#or else he resigned and everyone is just combining it with everyone else
its-hell · 6 days ago
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Do I even want to know
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ezrasbirdie · a year ago
going slow
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summary: When you're dating Javier Peña, and sex hurts. "It’s all too much—you and all your baggage trying to date. Your little skirts and slinky dresses were false advertising. Hot tears of embarrassment pool at the corner of your eyes, spilling over the sides of your cheeks. God, what was he going to tell his friends? How soon would the total population of Laredo, Texas, know you were damaged goods, too?" rating: E [SMUT; ETA: implied SA, painful penetration which can obviously be triggering, anxiety, POV shift, 🚨extremely soft Javi alert🚨] pairing: Javier Peña x fem reader word count: 7.2k [this is so long i'm so sorry] note: Thank you @starlightmornings for assuring me this wasn't complete garbage and that maybe some people would identify with it. So this isn't my standard smut, but it IS extremely personal to me. This was my experience with sex for a long time before I knew I had something called vaginismus and found a partner who wanted to help me work through it, and i don't feel like it's talked about very often. Also, Javier Peña is the man to help you through something like this. AND I did something a little different with the POV, which I think I like.
masterlist | read on ao3
You’ve heard so many stories about the former DEA agent-turned-ranch-hand on his father’s farm, he's starting to sound like some kind of local legend. He’s been through half the women in the town; he can’t commit; he left Lorraine at the altar for no reason; he has PTSD from his time in the DEA. You don’t know what’s true and what isn’t, and so you believe none of it. You don’t know Lorraine, Javier Peña is twelve years older than you, and you left this town the minute you could. Your paths never had a chance to cross.
You moved back just a month or so ago to care for your ailing mother. It’s been a tough month, and you just started your new job as a bank teller. In a town this size, it’s dull work, but it was nice getting to know the residents. And it’s nice to get out of the house. You love your mom, but caring for someone is hard. The nurses come during the day, but most evenings, it’s on you.
Recently, though, your mom had been telling you to get out and see some of the town; meet some new people. You know she means “find a man,” even if she doesn’t say it out loud.
“I’d like to see you married before I die, darling. It’s important,” she said earlier this morning. You just sighed and left the house. It had been a while since you’d been with anyone, and even longer since you’d been in a relationship. But Laredo isn’t a huge place, and everyone you know is either married or had moved away.
And you don’t want to fuck just anyone. You need someone understanding and patient, and there aren’t a lot of men out there like that. So you resigned yourself to a life of celibacy until you could move somewhere else, and that was that.
Of course, after you reassure yourself of this decision, Javier Peña walks into your bank to open a savings account. He is, in fact, just as gorgeous as everyone says. Strong nose, sharp jaw, thick mustache, broad shoulders, and big brown eyes hidden behind yellow aviators. You sigh at the gorgeous combination of features, lost in a daydream until he swaggers up to your counter, knocking you out of the fantasy and forcing you to put on your customer service face.
“Can I help you, sir?” You ask, your voice a few octaves higher than your natural pitch.
“I’d like to open a savings account,” he says. He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t ask how you’re doing, doesn’t try to start a conversation while you pull out the forms he needs. It’s a wonderful change from the small talk generally forced on you.
“Do you have anything you’d like to deposit today, sir?” You ask after he completes the paperwork and you photocopy his identification. He even looks good in his driver’s license picture.
“Yes,” he says. “This.”
He hands you a stack of bills, looking around warily as you count them out.
“Something the matter?” You ask.
“I, uh...old habit,” he says.
“I don’t think there are any drug traffickers in here today,” you say dryly, then cringe. The residents of your hometown do not often appreciate your sense of humor. You’re about to apologize when he chuckles under his breath.
“No,” he says. “Doesn’t look like there are.”
You finish depositing his money and tell him to have a good day, and he walks out of the glass doors while you ogle after him.
“Pick your jaw up off the floor, missy,” your co-worker, Ellen, says. “Shouldn’t get mixed up with him. He’s a heartbreaker.”
“Does anyone actually know anyone other than Lorraine that he wronged?” You ask. You aren’t sure why you’re defensive, but he’d been so polite. Ellen shakes her head and goes back to her work.
He comes back the next week to deposit more. And then he wants to open a checking account the next week. The week after, he brings in some neatly rolled coins to exchange. Javier seeks you out, always. More than once, you notice him letting other people go ahead just so he can get you.
“Can I take you to dinner?” He asks, quite abruptly, just as you finish counting out his withdrawal. You lay the last bill on the stack. He’s really interrupting your celibacy plan, but the puppy-dog eyes draw you in.
“I’d like that,” you say.
“Friday?” He asks, looking hopeful.
“Yeah, that should give me some time to find a sitter.”
“Oh,” he says, “You have kids?”
He doesn’t seem upset, just curious.
“No, God, not at all. It’s my mom. She can’t really be left alone for too long.”
He frowns, and you realize you might have divulged too much information. Who wants to date a woman with baggage? You’re just about to tell him it’s fine if he wanted to cancel, but he speaks before you can.
“That’s pretty expensive, huh?” He asks. You shrug and nod, because it’s the truth. “Hm.”
“It’s really okay; I don’t mind,” you say, mostly to fill the silence.
“Can I do another transaction?” He asks.
“Oh, um, of course,” you say, taken aback at his sudden shift, and a little embarrassed that he moved on so quickly.
“I wanna take out a hundred dollars from my savings.”
You hand him a one hundred-dollar bill, and he hands it back to you.
You look at him, confused, and a grin spreads across his handsome face. “For the sitter.”
“I can’t—”
“It’s part of the date. I’m paying, sweetheart.”
“Thank you,” you murmur. You give him all the details—your phone number, your address. He’ll pick you up at seven.
He walks out of the bank with a little spring in his step, and you smile to yourself, clutching the bill.
Javi’s nervous. When’s the last time he went on a date? A proper date, with dinner and drinks and flowers? This is Steve’s fault. When Javi came back stateside, Steve told him to settle down during one of the monthly phone calls that had become routine.
“Connie and Olivia are the only things keeping me going. I don’t know what I’d do without them. Find something to hold on to and cherish so you can get your bearings. It’s tough out there alone,” Steve said in that West Virginia drawl.
Javier rolled his eyes at first, but after a few months, he’d started to feel it. His dad was good company, but they’d gotten on each other’s nerves enough that Javi had gotten his own place not far from Chucho’s.
The little ranch house felt huge, and that girl from the bank—she’s cute. Gorgeous, even. The joke she made the first time they met? The same undeserved hero-worship marred his interactions with everyone else in this town since he came back, and she took him down a peg. He liked that in a woman. Why not take her out?
Javi rings the doorbell to her place—a modest craftsman bungalow tucked off into a neighborhood just off the main highway. She opens the door in a little black dress that reminds him of Julia Roberts wears in Pretty Woman. He doesn’t watch a lot of movies, but he loves that one. Not that he’s ever admitted it to anyone. She wears black pumps and a sparkling necklace, and he drinks in the sight of her, feeling very under dressed in his blazer and jeans.
“You look great,” he says, kissing her on the cheek. She smiles and tells him he does, too.
He does all the things he’s supposed to do, all the stuff he remembers doing when he dated a million years ago. He opens doors, pays for her meal, orders nice wine (he thinks it’s nice, at least—he’s always preferred whiskey). And at the end of the night, he takes her home and kisses her good night.
As she shuts the door, wobbling a little from the wine and her heels, he takes what feels like his first breath all evening. He wonders if calling her tomorrow is too soon.
Javier invites you to his place for the fourth date, offering to cook. You’re a little suspicious because from everything he’s told you about himself (which, to be fair, is not a lot), he doesn’t seem like much of a cook. But it doesn’t matter. At this point, you’re more interested in getting a full sentence out of him. It’s not that he’s rude or shy, even. He just doesn’t seem to have much to say.
Instead, he listens to with an intent you’re not used to from a man. He asks you questions about yourself, and doesn’t use them as a springboard to talk about himself. Sometimes it’s more of an interrogation than a conversation with those big brown eyes trained on you.
You’d like to pull him out of his shell just a little.
When you arrive at his place, he opens the door wearing a white apron. Oh, God, he’s adorable. You wonder if he cooks a lot, or if it’s a recent purchase. He invites you in, looking quite handsome in a plaid button-up and jeans. His hair is a little messier than you’ve seen it, and when you enter the kitchen, you see why.
It’s a mess. Propped on the counter is a cookbook turned to a recipe for chicken parmesan with angel hair pasta. For you, it’s a simple dish, and one you’ve ordered out with him. He must have noticed. For him, though, it seems to have upended his life. The scent of burnt meat fills your nose. He turns to you with an apologetic smile.
“You burnt the chicken, huh?” You ask.
“I couldn’t tell if it was cooked,” he says gruffly, a little defensive. “Didn’t want to give you salmonella.”
You quirk your mouth at him, surprised at his thoughtfulness. You lay a hand on his shoulder and his eyes flick to it. Wondering if you’ve overstepped—there hasn’t been much physical contact between the two of you yet—you make to withdraw your hand, but he brings his own up to his shoulder and laces his large fingers in the spaces between your own.
“...You have stuff to make huevos rancheros?” You ask. The tension in his forehead melts and he breaks into a wide smile.
“You’re not mad?” He asks.
“Why on Earth would I be mad?”
Javier parts his lips in surprise. He’s not sure why she’d be upset with him, exactly, but he’d been sure he’d screw this up somehow.
“Yeah,” he says, “I have that.”
She slides her heels off and moves past him, gathering up the soiled dishes and making her way to the sink. He tries to stop her, to tell her she doesn’t need to do that, but she slinks out of his reach and shakes her head.
“I didn’t want to have you cleaning,” he says, and she laughs.
“It’s no big deal,” she shrugs. “Get all the stuff we need out while I do this.”
She moves quickly, making short work of the mess he’s made. The second attempt at dinner is a success—simple, but delicious. She asks him questions this time, drilling into him the way he’s drilled into her. She dances around his time in the DEA, asking about what he liked to do in Colombia, if he had any places he missed. Javier, for once, doesn’t dread answering questions about his past.
She teases him about his reputation, and he can only sigh. You leave one woman at the altar, and you’re a womanizer for life.
“And what do you think about it, sweetheart?” He asks. He means it to be flirtacious, but it comes out like a plead.
“I think...I think your past is none of my business,” she says, choosing her words with care. He finds, though, that he might want it to be.
“I didn’t date, exactly,” he admits. “Just had a couple of girls I knew well.”
She sits back and nods, waiting for him to go on. Normally he might hesitate, but she has kind eyes. In some ways, she reminds him of Connie—strong, open, opinionated, and caring. He never coveted her, exactly, but he told himself if he ever found a woman even a little like that, he’d hold on to her. It was like he’d told Steve when Connie went home—there are women worth fighting for, and she was one of them. He thinks the woman in front him might be one, too.
And here she is, carving shallow fissures into his past to see if he’ll meet her halfway. He can do that.
“They were informants. Prostitutes, mostly,” he said, waiting for the inevitable, but she breezes past it.
“Anyone special?” She prods. He thinks of Helena, of Gabi, even Elisa. They were special, but not how she means. He shakes his head.
“Must have been lonely, all those years,” she says, reaching her hand across the dining room table to stroke his knuckles with her thumb. He clears his throat and shakes his head, because this fissure is too deep for now.
“Should we watch a movie?” He asks.
You notice the abrupt change of subject, but say nothing.
“Sure,” you agree. “What movie?”
A hint of embarrassment washes over him as he picks up the Blockbuster case. “Uh, it’s...it’s called Fools Rush In? The lady said it was a romantic comedy.”
Your eyes light up. “With Salma Hayek?”
His embarrassment gives way to subdued delight, and he nods.
“I’d been wanting to see that!” You say, sitting delicately on the couch, curling your legs to your side. The dress you chose is a little much for a night in, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to look as close to gorgeous as you could for this man. He’d kissed you a few times, and you’d held hands, but he’d so far been physically reserved. And it wasn’t that you were dying to have sex—because that’s where the complications come in—but you did want to know that you were desirable. That he wants you. Because despite the complications, you really, really want him.
He turns off the lights and sits next to you, his denim-clad thigh pressing against your bare leg, and rests his arm behind your shoulders. You scoot a little closer and lean into his torso, head resting on his chest. He pulls you in even more, placing his hand on your shoulder and tracing light circles on your arm with thick, calloused fingers.
The movie’s funny, and plenty romantic, he supposes, but he can’t stop looking at her in the dark. She’s never been this close for this long, and he wants to tilt her chin up to press his lips against hers. He wants to push the straps of her dress down and kiss her bare shoulders. It’s been a while since he’s been with a woman, and she’s always so stressed. Caring for her mom or working. He wants to lift some of that off of her in the best way he knows how.
So he leans down and kisses her neck. Softly at first, to see how she reacts. She doesn’t stiffen, but melts into him, and he takes it as a good sign. His lips travel further around her neck, nipping her chin with gentle teeth and eliciting a soft moan from her.
She leans back to give him better access to explore her with his mouth. He slips her dress straps down and nibbles her bare shoulders, kissing his way down to the top of her breasts. He’d like to taste those, too, but he leans up instead, capturing her soft lips in a wet kiss. She moans straight into his mouth and his half-hard cock strains against his jeans.
Javier leans back and pulls her on top until she’s straddling his thigh. He rubs her soft hips, fingers digging in lightly as she rocks back and forth on him, grinding herself into his thigh. She whimpers slightly as he rucks her stretchy dress down to reveal a lacy black bra, which he unclasps with ease. Her breasts bounce as he unveils them and he lets out a groan.
“Baby,” he murmurs, lifting a hand to cup her and swipe a thumb over her nipple. “Look at you.”
He is laser-focused, listening to your body’s needs, watching the way you react to each touch and lick and nibble. His mustache tickles you as he takes your nipple in his mouth, suckling softly. The hand that cups you is huge—thick, long fingers and a wide, meaty palm. You whimper at the size of it.
Your instinct is to be quiet, but he pulls moans out of you like it’s his life’s purpose. Every noise you make, he answers with his own. A groan, a pant, a soft word of praise. He puts his hands on your hips and rocks you back and forth, the friction of his clothed thigh rubbing against your cunt. You’re so lost in how good it feels, how safe you feel with those big hands running up and down your arms, you forget to worry about what comes next.
“Do you want to go to the bedroom, baby?” He asks. And here’s where you make the decision. To have the conversation, or hope for the best. To decline, even if you don’t want to decline, or say yes and see if things go differently this time. The heat between your legs and the heartbreakingly beautiful man underneath you wins out, but just as you’re about to nod, he asks if everything’s okay, like he picked up your hesitation.
And, you remind yourself, he probably had.
“All fine,” you assure him, but you’re not sure how you’re going to do this. He kisses you again, deep and hard and messy, his tongue sliding lazily into your mouth. He nudges you backward, tapping your thigh to signal he wants you to get up.
On the short walk to the bedroom, he kisses the back of your neck and you shiver at his warm breath dusting over your skin. You let the sensation ground you as you walk into a pleasantly neat room, bed made and all. Most men could barely manage to pick up all the empty beer cans, much less make the bed.
He stops here for just a moment to unbutton his shirt and pull it off, revealing a smooth, bronze chest, muscled arms, and an age-softened belly you wanted to kiss. You wonder, maybe, if you can just give him a blowjob, and then postpone anything for you until next time. If there was a next time.
Javier closes the gap between the two of you and strokes your cheek. You decide to go for it, peppering kisses on his neck and down his chest, dropping to your knees to unbuckle his belt and kiss his stomach, palming the bulge in his jeans. If it’s as big as it feels, this is going to be even more difficult for you. You focus on your task, but he cups his hand under your chin and tilts your face up to look at him.
Javier doesn’t like receiving first. He likes exploring a new partner, finding what they like, learning their body. He isn’t a hard man to please. His talents lie in making the person he shares his bed with scream his name, and he wants it just as much, if not more, than their pretty lips around his cock.
“Not yet,” he whispers. He pulls her up and undresses her slowly, taking note of the places that make her whimper as his hand traverses her skin. Once she’s fully bare, laying naked in front of him, he takes in her form under the low light and groans. Her breathing comes out in soft pants as he takes her nipple into his mouth again.
“Like this?” He asks when she moans at his touch, loving the frantic nod she gives him. Javier’s hand moves over her body, down her stomach, squeezing her ass and nudging his knuckle through her damp folds. He groans at her arousal and brings his fingers up to his mouth for a taste. “You taste so fucking good.”
Javi knows he’s good at this part. He’s a quiet man, preferring to speak only when he has something to say, but his voice is his favorite toy to pull out during sex. And she’s especially responsive. He wonders if this is new, if no one’s spoken to her like this before.
“You look so fuckin’ pretty for me, baby,” he murmurs, circling her clit as she whines underneath. “You know how often I think about this? About making you come?”
She shivers underneath him, opening her mouth and closing it again, and he smiles against her chest. Yeah, this is new for her. He nibbles on her neck and soothes the teeth marks with his tongue as she grows wetter by the second, dripping between his fingers.
Javier leans up and kisses her softly as he slides a finger inside of her, freezing when he feels her entire body tense up. She gasps, but not in a good way. He pulls back from her lips to search her face and finds her looking away from him, biting her lip with her face screwed up in something too much like pain.
You knew he’d do it soon, and you knew those fingers would be too much, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. He feels so good against you, so soft and warm and firm. Strong. So you let him inside, praying this time it’s different, and, of course, it hurts. Your heart stutters, dropping with disappointment. It burns, like always, and you don’t know why. It’s always been like this. You’ve asked doctors, and they wave it off, telling you to try more lube or just tough it out. It always hurts a little at first. It’ll feel better, eventually.
But it never does. And you think, maybe, this is just what sex feels like. Maybe everyone else just has a higher pain tolerance. Or maybe your body is just broken. If this man can’t make you enjoy it, you’re positive it’s impossible.
He pulls back and looks at you, and you realize the sharp gasp has given you away. You’re close to ruining an almost perfect night, so you try to rearrange your face; to turn the gasp of pain into something that sounds vaguely pornographic. You want him to have a good time, at least.
“What is it?” He asks, his brown eyes soft with curiosity and concern.
“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” you murmur, but he’s just not that easy to fool. He pulls his finger out of you quickly and you yelp with pain. He looks panicked now, and you’re not sure you’re ready to explain any of it. “Sorry,” you say, looking away again.
“Hey, hey. Come on, baby, what’s going on? Did I hurt you?”
And how to explain that it wasn’t him or his gentle fingers that hurt you? How to explain it was your own body that decided penetration was not in the cards? That you could barely stand to put in tampons? That you’d never enjoyed a man’s cock inside of you because you were too busy breathing through it? That your past boyfriends had called you damaged goods when they couldn’t get you off?
It’s all too much—you and all your baggage trying to date. Your little skirts and slinky dresses were false advertising. And then, of course, hot tears of embarrassment pool at the corner of your eyes, spilling over the sides of your cheeks. Would he ask for the sitter money back? God, what was he going to tell his friends? How soon would the total population of Laredo, Texas, know you were damaged goods, too?
It happens so fast Javier doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know what he’s done. Moved too quickly, maybe? Misread a signal? Panic and dread grow inside of him—flashes of Helena laid on a mattress, bruised and broken for someone else’s amusement—as he tries to piece everything together. What has he done? She pushes him away as he struggles to react, reaching for her clothes.
“Wait, please, sweetheart,” he says softly, “Please tell me what’s going on.”
She turns to face him, still bare and beautiful as ever, covering herself awkwardly, and he pulls the blanket off the bed to wrap around her shivering figure. “It’s really not a big deal,” she says.
“It seems like it is,” he points out, leading her back to the bed. “I’d like to know.”
“It...hurts. It hurts when...ugh, it hurts when I fuck, okay? Or put anything in there. It’s always hurt. Nothing has ever felt good. I usually just...get through it,” she admits, wiping her eyes. “No one’s ever noticed enough to stop.”
Javier’s quiet for a moment, processing the information. The way she clenched and gasped and tensed up, the look of pain on her face. “No one’s ever stopped?” He asks. She shakes her head. He moves forward to put his arm around her and thinks better of it. “Can I touch you?”
“..Yes,” she says. He pulls her close and kisses her deeply. His instinct to retroactively protect her from every piece of shit who’s violated her without caring pulses within him, but he pushes it down.
It’s not about him.
“Let’s slow it down, huh?” He asks. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
“I wanted to, though,” she says. “I wanted it to be you.”
His eyes drop to her lips, and he looks back into her eyes. “Maybe you just need to relax,” he says in a husky voice. She laughs.
“Well, yeah. But I’m too...I just don’t think sex is good for me.”
Javier feels his own sense of pride claw at his chest. “What about if I kiss you down there? What if we just start with that?”
She rolls her eyes, then looks horrified at herself. “I’m sorry, it’s just...I’ve never come from that.”
“Sweetheart,” he says, “Has a man ever made you come at all?”
She looks at him shyly. “No.”
His lips curl into a smirk. “If you want me to show you something, lay back.”
You’re skeptical. You’ve gotten this speech before. They last five minutes and get tired, looking up from between her legs and asking if you’ve come. So you lie and say sure, and get it all over with.
And that’s what sex has been, always. Getting it over with. So you lay back and take a deep breath. Javier crawls between your legs and leans up to your mouth, kissing you so, so softly it makes you want to cry. There’s something tender there that you can’t explain, and you think fleetingly, that maybe he loves you.
He makes his way down your body, kissing every single inch of you he can reach, talking to you the whole time.
“Preciosa,” as he reaches your collarbone. “Hermosa,” to the crevice between your breasts. He moves to your pussy, still slick from his earlier ministrations. Javier nudges your lips open with his nose and you gasp as he grazes your clit.
“She likes that?” He asks.
You nod and whimper. And then he inhales. A deep, shuddering inhale followed by a long groan—like he’s never smelled anything so sweet. You’ve just gotten over the noise he made when he licks a long, lazy stripe along your seam until he reaches your clit. You gasp as he runs his tongue over it, flicking it softly at first.
Javier’s fingers dig into your thighs, gripping you hard. He’s concentrating, you realize. This wasn’t just a way for him to get you ready—he likes it. Wants to make it feel good. Feel great. And, oh God, does it ever. He presses the flat of his tongue to you, the firm pressure driving you wild as he breathes you in. You can hear him moaning between your legs, whispering praise into your cunt, and your eyes roll into the back of your head at his sweet words.
Javier senses her getting closer. He can always tell, but it’s trickier with her. Usually he can feel slick walls contracting and pulsing, ready to coat his fingers or cock in her juices. But this isn’t a usual situation. So he works twice as hard, uses his other senses—feels her thighs start to tremble under his large hands as he kneads her soft flesh, hears her breath coming in short gasps and whimpers, sees her eyes squeeze shut and her hands scramble for purchase on the bed as she bucks into him.
And there she goes. She cries out, gushing beautifully onto his greedy tongue.
“Javi,” she whines, “Javi, Javi, Javi—”
He smirks to himself as she babbles his name. Javi wants to talk her through it but he can’t; his lips are sealed over her pussy and he won’t leave it until he’s pulled a second one out of her, so he moans into her instead. This is a woman who wants to know he’s present, he’s there with her.
The second one comes faster, almost immediately after. He licks and licks and licks until she pushes his face away from oversensitivity. He leans back on his knees, still wearing his jeans. His cock strains against the rough denim as he watches her recover. She looks so beautiful and wild like this, stretched on his bed, far away from that self-conscious uncertainty from before.
As she recovers, her eyes grow wide with it again and she bites her lip—a habit he’s starting to love. But before she can get too far into her own head, she looks down and sees his cock bulging in his denim pants as he palms himself for relief. For the second time that night, she dives towards it.
“Please let me suck your cock, Javi,” she pleads. This time he can tell that she means it. Before it was a flimsy offer, one he realizes she made to satiate him for the night. His chest burns with guilt, but her eyes sparkle as she cups him and he’s so fucking hard. He resists.
“Next time, sweetheart. I promise.”
“Let’s take a shower,” he offers. She wilts a little, her eyes less shiny with the perceived rejection. He cups her face in his hands and brushes her lips with his. “This is about you, sweetheart.”
She nods, seeming to understand what he means.
In the shower, he touches her again with his fingers, whispers filthy things in her ear, making her come so hard on shaking thighs he has to lower her to the shower floor while she sobs his name.
You blush at the way Javier talks to you, filthy and sweet at the same time. But it’s not only the physical side of the relationship that blossoms over the next few weeks. He meets your mom, and she loves him. You’re not sure if it’s because she really loves him or if she’s just ready for you to be married, but it’s nice that she approves. Her health, for once, is improving. You’ve been able to leave her alone at night with no issues, and she keeps pushing you out the door.
“He looks like Burt Reynolds,” she observes when he leaves one night after dinner. Your mother leans conspiratorially toward you. “Does he have chest hair like him?”
You only laugh and shake your head. You think she’d be disappointed if she knew the truth.
He hasn’t brought up the subject of penetration with you since you’d told him it hurt, but the longer the two of you go without talking about it, the more nervous you became. Sure, it’s fine now, but what happens six months down the road when he decides he wants someone he can fuck easily. And Javi’s been so good to you, it feels bad to even think about it. You need to know.
This is the spiral you’re stuck in when he picks you up from work one day. He’s clearly just left the ranch with his grass-stained jeans and damp pink t-shirt. His sweaty throat glistens and he grins at you over the top of his yellow aviators as you slide into the passenger side of his truck.
“Evenin’,” he says, leaning over to kiss your forehead. “My place or yours?”
And then you burst into very noisy tears. His eyebrows shoot into his hairline. “Baby?” He asks, putting his hand on your shoulder as you sob in the bank parking lot.
“What are we doing?” You ask. He frowns.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, this? How long are you gonna keep dating me until you get bored with not being able to fuck me?” You ask, lip trembling, your stomach clenching in fear now that you’d brought it up. Maybe he hadn’t thought of it, and now he will. Javier’s quiet for so long you think he’s mad at you.
“My place, then,” he says, one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other lacing his fingers with your own. “We can talk about this there.”
He strokes your hand with his thick thumb and brings it up to kiss it softly every now and then. The drive is less tense than you imagined, but quiet. He pulls you into the house, and there’s very little talking as he leads you to the shower to rinse off the day, washing you from head to toe. You sink into him, finally relaxing.
Javier spreads her out on the bed, still wet from the shower. He wonders how deep this goes for, how much of a scar this has left. He has his fair share of pain and secrets, but he thinks she carries some shame with this, too. Javier is bad at talking, bad at expressing himself verbally, bad at making himself understood without using his body—but for her, he’s going to try.
“What do you need from me?” He asks. She bites her bottom lip again.
“I guess I just...don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
She sighs. “You could have anyone. Anyone in this town, or in a million towns, and you’re wasting your time with me. And I’m broken.”
It frustrates him when she says that, when she talks so poorly of herself.
“You’re not broken, sweetheart. I wish you’d stop saying that.”
She looks away from him and swallows thickly.
“The truth is, I can do just fine without ever going inside of you. The last month has been...something I never thought I’d get,” he says. “But we can try something. And we can go slow—as slow as you need.”
She looks at him curiously. “What do you mean?”
His fingers are thick and long. A pinky first, after you’ve come by his hand or his tongue. He shifts it around, opening you up, millimeter by millimeter. He soothes you with whispered praise and soft kisses. Props you up with pillows and spreads your legs as wide as they’ll go. He works with precision and focus, and eventually, his middle finger can slide in without much resistance.
“Let’s try a second,” he murmurs one night. “I think you’re ready.”
It pinches, just a bit, but you manage to relax into it. “There she is. There you go, bebita. Doing so well for me. Does that feel good?”
His voice caresses you as softly as his tongue, and you whimper confirmation.
“Gonna go a little faster, pretty girl.”
He adds his thumb to your clit and you clench involuntarily. He stops and holds his fingers in you. “Relax, bebita.”
You didn’t know it could be like this. Didn’t know you could feel stretched and full without being in pain. Didn’t know there was a special spot in you that he could find and stroke and bring you to a different plane. Could make your legs shake and your eyes leak and your pussy quiver around his fingers.
He’s so patient, taking his time and pulling you apart, happy to have your lips around his cock or fuck his own hand as you fall apart on his mouth or fingers.
And then one night, it happens. You just know you want his cock and you know you can take it. Or at least, you want to try. Javi’s cock is huge and thick and intimidating, but you don’t think you can go another moment without him inside you. He’s worried at first, thinking about how tightly you squeeze his fingers, but once he’s assured, he makes his excitement clear.
The amount of lube you’ve gone through the past two months is insane, but he bought an extra bottle. He warms you up, dousing you in his saliva and lube and your own juices.
“Get on top, bebita. You can control it better,” he says. And so you lower yourself slowly, slowly, slowly until you feel that stretch.
“Breathe,” he whispers, noticing you holding your breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. You slide further, concentrating on his arms and hands and eyes. It burns, but not for long. You bottom out, crashing onto him with a strangled sound.
“You’re doing so well,” he assures you. “You’re doing so fucking well, bebita. Taking my cock so, so well. Christ, you’re so fucking tight, baby. Breathe.”
You can tell he’s struggling to stay still, struggling to keep himself from bucking into you. You relax around him and he groans.
“There she goes. Good girl,” he says. You shudder at the praise, whimpering as you start to move. You don’t know how much of him you can take, but you want to try to make him come. You want to make him feel good, make him moan your name. You want to thank him for everything, for his patience and soft eyes and gentle hands.
You suspect he isn’t used to hearing praise like that, and it hurts you.
He stays still underneath you, his hands kneading into you, eyes heavy-lidded; full of warmth and reverence. You bounce faster, never quite pulling off of him, and his fingers grip harder. You’re sure there will be bruises that he’ll soothe with his tongue and lips later, but it’s okay for now. The sensation grounds you. The control he’s given you is wonderful, but you want to try something. You want to feel how much he’s wanted you.
“Can you—mm—can you get on top?” You pant. His eyes grow dark and round, surprised at the request, but unable to hide his desire.
“Are you sure?” He asks through gritted teeth.
“Please,” you beg. “I wanna know what it feels like when it’s good.”
Javier understands, even if he’s hesitant. She wants him to claim her. And God help him, he wants to. Her pussy is so tight it’s choking his cock even with her legs spread wide open over him, and he takes deep breaths to control his hips.
“Yeah, baby. We can do that. You tell me if it’s too much, yeah?”
She nods fervently and shimmies off of him without so much as a wince, and his heart swells at the sight. Javier gathers the pillows and makes a neat stack and leans back to look at her as she crawls onto them, legs spread open and waiting for him.
She glistens for him and he can’t help it; he ducks his head down and laps at her softly.
“Fuck, you taste so good—”
“Javi, fuck me. Please, please fuck me.”
He looks at her, and she means it. He wonders if she’s ever begged anyone like that before, and common sense tells him no. He tries to contain his pride, but he can’t. He’s fucking good at this.
“You want me to fuck you, baby? That’s what you want?” He growls as he crawls up to her. “You sure?”
She nods feverishly, threading your fingers through his hair. “Please.”
He notches the head of his cock at her entrance. Before he enters, he leans close to her and kisses you softly, lovingly, and says, “Please tell me if it hurts, amor.”
Her breath catches in her throat, and he pushes in. “Breathe,” he says.
She’s still tight, but she relaxes, wrapping her legs around his waist and spreading herself as wide as she can. He’s gentle at first, careful in the way he moves in and out. But she teases him. She bites his earlobe and murmurs his name, whispering how badly she’s wanted this. How badly she’s wanted this to feel good.
“You can go harder, Javi,” she says. He’s hesitant, of course.
“Maybe we should—fuuuuck,” he groans as she slips her fingers between her legs to feel his cock gliding in and out of her.
“Show me how you fuck, Javier. Please—I wanna know how much you want me,” she whines. And, shit, that breaks him. Her begging, her pleading, that whine, her moans. He slams into her and she gasps in pleasure.
“You—you don’t fucking know how much I want you—how much I always want you,” he murmurs into her neck, words punctuated with thrusts and her moans. She’s loosened up some; relaxed around him. He picks up speed as she circles her clit, bearing down to match his rhythm. “Oh, fuck, there she is. You want my cock that bad?”
He watches her face, alert for any signs of pain or hesitation, and when he sees none he keeps fucking her harder than he thought she’d be able to take.
“Fuck, Javi, fuck—I’m—”
But he feels it already. He feels her clench around him, strangling his cock so hard he can’t move. He kisses her through it, his tongue sliding over hers as she moans and sobs his name.
“So good, amor. So good, doing so fucking well, such a good fucking girl,” he murmurs into her mouth. She’s even more relaxed, and he takes advantage, snapping his hips and moaning as her juices gush onto his cock. She looks up at him then, and bites her lip and oh, fuck. “Where?”
“In me,” she begs. “Inside, please.”
His orgasm comes in shuddering waves, his seed surging into her and leaking back out around him. She murmurs praises into his neck (“You’re so good to me. You’re such a good man.”), and he collapses onto her.
They stay like that for a while, soaking into each other’s skin, until their breathing evens out and he pulls back to look her in the eyes. He pulls out of her and she whimpers, sending a flicker of panic into his gut.
“No,” she says, cupping his face, “It’s okay. I’m okay. Just liked you in there.”
“How...how was it?” He asks. He’s afraid for a moment, afraid she’ll say he hurt her, that he’d missed something. But she doesn’t.
Instead, she kisses him and says, “I never knew it could be so...incredible.”
“I wonder what was different,” he muses.
A wicked grin crosses her face. “Guess we’ll have to practice more and find out.”
He laughs and rolls off of you, disappearing into the bathroom and returning with a wet washcloth to clean you up. You toddle in the bathroom to pee, already starting to feel the ache, but it’s fine.
Amor. He called you “amor.”
Javier Peña wants you.
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lis-likes-fics · 7 months ago
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Symbiote!Reader Warnings: Threats, lesbian symbiote (dangerous combination), but that’s really it. A/N: I really wanted to do a symbiote one, mostly because I liked the idea of someone sitting like a maniac and having an unhinged conversation with themselves. Enjoy.
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The team was gathered in the living room of the compound, liquor passed around, popcorn being thrown places, and plenty of chocolate at the table between everyone. You sat next to Natasha, your hand on her thigh as your other held your glass of Tony's expensive scotch.
Natasha's hand covered yours, a smile on her face as the team collectively talked over each other in conversation. Havoc, your wonderfully named symbiote was content as you sat next to her. Her mindless chatter in your head were just comments on the different things everyone was saying.
She was behaving, and that was all that mattered. Most days, she would get along with everyone. But there were some days where civility was not at the top of her mind, and it usually centered around the same person.
As you glanced over, you saw Bruce mumble something to Natasha, a dopey grin on his face. For a split second, you caught his eyes dart down to her lips. A ping of annoyance sparked inside of you, and you almost scowled at him.
The symbiote growled, "Did you see that?" Her voice almost startled you with how loud it was, compared to the normal volume her grumbly voice typically held.
"I didn't see anything," you muttered to her, speaking quietly so no one else would pick up on your conversation. She grumbled to herself, continuing to watch him closely through your peripheral vision. Again, his eyes found Natasha's lips. Havoc scoffed angrily, "There! Again! You saw that, did you not?"
"Keep it down. You're so loud," you told her, your eyes glancing around you before you leaned forward and moved your hand from her thigh to pluck a piece of chocolate from the large bowl left out with you in mind.
"You know he is trying something, Y/N," she tried.
You just shook your head, "Not as far as I'm aware."
"Then you are blind, which cannot be true because I have perfect vision," she bragged slightly. She turned your head a little aggressively to look at Bruce, and he caught your eye. You quickly looked away and whisper-yelled at her, "Don't do that! Stop it!"
"Why are you denying me?" she questioned.
"Y/N, you alright? You look a little upset," Steve said, his eyes watching you carefully. You just forced a smile and nodded curtly, "I'm great. Shut the hell up." You whispered the last part to Havoc, who merely sighed and began to resign.
"Maybe you are right," she said.
"He's just another friend," you agreed, your eyes finding Bruce again, still eyeing Natasha openly in front of you.
"But he did it again!" she yelled in your head. You gritted your teeth at her, your eyes glancing back and forth between Bruce and not realizing some of the other team members had begun to notice your whispered conversation with Havoc.
"Stop freaking out," you whisper-yelled, much less subtle than before. Natasha was distracted looking at Bruce, but you could not see her face. You took a large gulp of the scotch in your hand, downing it in one go.
"We should eat him," she blatantly admitted, causing you to almost choke on her words. That attracted a little more attention as you whispered to her under your breath, "No, we should not eat him. Shut up and calm down. You're causing a scene."
Then you saw Bruce's hand come to rest on Natasha's knee. A dark feeling came over you as your face fell. You clenched your jaw, "Alright, that's it."
Havoc smiled, "Now?"
Obviously, you were not the only one to notice as Steve suddenly spoke up to the team, "Run."
Everyone was out of their seats in no time as you allowed Havoc to take over, the tar-like feeling of her murky violet skin slithering over you, wrapping around your body as you grew in height and terror. That large, maniacal smile of your symbiote companion stretch along your face and her slimy tongue curled.
"Havoc!" Natasha said as she stood to her feet, an exasperated expression covering her face.
Bruce stood as he moved back. A kind of cackle left Havoc as she took full transformation. She tilted her head. "Go crazy," you told her.
She almost giggled as she looked at Bruce, "Dinner time."
"Oh, shit," Bruce mumbled before he stood to his feet and started rushing away. Natasha tried to stop Havoc from chasing after him, but she hardly paid her any mind. "Come on, little thing. We won't hurt you."
"V!" Natasha yelled.
Havoc charged after Bruce, who headed toward a window and jumped out mid-transformation, smashing through the window with a loud crash. He landed hard on the ground, you following after as you seethed underneath Havoc's surface.
Hulk let out a roar that shook the Earth, and Havoc only responded in one more disturbing. It was not long before the two began to brawl, many of Hulk's limbs almost lost in the process of the fight.
A lot of Tony's precious lawn was destroyed, but it was an easy fix when you were a billionaire. Natasha was the only reason any of it came to a halt as she suddenly dropped in between the two of you.
"Stop it! Jesus, you're all children," she rolled her eyes. Havoc and Hulk came to a halt, growling at each other before looking down at the small human in front of them. The Hulk huffed in Havoc's direction. She scowled and raised a hand in a fist before Natasha scolded her, "Havoc, back off!"
"Tell her to get off the field," you told her.
"I just want a bite," she said to Natasha, sending a creepy wink to Hulk, who grunted again.
"She eat me!" he shouted.
"No!" Natasha huffed. "Do not eat Bruce. Remember, team members are friends, not food."
Havoc moved to pop her knuckles as she shrugged her shoulders, "Who says that we cannot do both?"
"Y/N, tell her to calm down," Natasha tried, a hand raised up on both sides to keep both the giants at bay.
"I'm not doing shit," you mumbled to yourself.
"She said-"
"Don't tell her I said that!" you stopped her before she could translate your exact word for once. She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest, "Pussy."
"You gotta tell me what's going on. I can't read your mind, Y/N," Natasha said, turning to you now and mirroring Havoc's stance.
You nudged Havoc, "Tell her."
Havoc gladly started explaining the issue, possessiveness evident in her tone. "He is trying to steal you," she accused, pointing a finger at the Hulk, who angrily huffed again as he bit on the ground like a gorilla. "He is trying to take you from us!"
"She's my girlfriend," you reminded her, your tone sharp. Havoc stepped to the side slightly as she hummed, "Sharing is caring, Y/N."
"No, mine," you told her. "Focus on Bruce. Hulk's got big head, which means big brains."
She smiled wickedly, "Delicious."
"Havoc!" Natasha brought the attention back to her. "Bruce is not trying to steal me."
Hulk plopped to the ground as he moved to sit, "Banner said he is... I only tell truth!" He seemed to be having his own mental conversation.
"Shut up, Hulk!" Natasha told him, clearly annoyed with the creatures she was currently surrounded by.
Havoc pointed another accusatory finger at him, "You heard him! Let us fix it. Just one bite." She held up a single digit and pointed to it eagerly, growling with quite of bit of displeasure when Natasha still refused.
"Havoc, heel!"
"Tell her Bruce is flirting on purpose and that we all know it," you said.
Havoc summarized without a second thought. "Banner is being a major dick," she grumbled.
"Why do you keep yelling my name like that?" She threw her arms in the air, "It is very annoying."
"Behave, you little-"
Natasha unknowingly cut you off, holding up two fingers to the symbiote. "Just give me two seconds, alright? Just two seconds." Havoc sighed and crossed her arms over her chest again, turning as if to give them privacy.
Natasha walked over to Natasha, holding out a hand with her palm up this time to give him the cue to shift back. He was more than reluctantly this time, constantly pointing back and forth between Havoc like a child before giving up and changing back.
Bruce stood to his feet with a slight stumble before steadying himself, now dressed in nothing but the specially designed pants Tony had made him for situations exactly like this. Natasha looked down at him with an expression that told him just how upset she was.
"You know how Havoc reacts, why do you do this?" she said angrily. She glanced over her shoulder at her, sitting down on the grass and holding a weed flower between two fingers curiously, mumbling something to you as she did so.
"I... You know how I feel about you, Nat. I just..." he trailed off, not knowing what else to say.
She shook her head and gritted her teeth, "And you know how I feel about her. I'm with Y/N, and I'll be with Y/N for a long time. As in always. If you want to keep being close with me, you'll back off." She said the last part through gritted teeth, gesturing in the direction of the building for him to go back inside.
He began to figure out something to say before ultimately giving up as he resigned, glancing at the alien behind Natasha and walking away to go inside. When he was far enough away, she turned to Havoc again, "Hey, come here." The alien stood and walked over, standing at least twice the height of Natasha but leaving the agent completely unphased.
"Let me talk to her," she simply said as she looked up at the giant who rolled her eyes before retreating again to reveal you. You shook out your limbs, shaking your head as you let out a breath to adjust. Natasha, now with a easier view, gave you mix between a worried look and an annoyed one. "What's going on?"
You sighed, crossing your arms as you leaned to the side, "You saw what he was doing! He knows we're together, and he's still making moves on you."
"And if he does it again, I'll let Havoc eat him," she said nonchalantly, tilting her head to the side.
"No!" she laughed, shoving your shoulder lightly before she took your hips in her hands and pulled you in again, "But if he does it again, I'll deal with it." You pouted, your bottom lip jutting out as you huffed again. "Tell her that I am making a deal," Havoc tried. "Uh," you started, trying to decide whether or not to accept it. You then shrugged your shoulders, "She said she wants a deal." Havoc happily continued, "If he even looks in her general direction again, I will snap his dick off and put it in the freezer. Then when we take it out next, we can use it to play baseball. I will accidentally throw it, however, into the ocean where he will never see it again and–" She then began to go into very descriptive and very graphic detail about what would go on from there. As she provided you with mental images, Natasha watched your face contort in disgust and discomfort.
"I'm not saying that," you stopped her before she could continue. "Just do it." You made a sound of utter annoyance before simplifying it, "She says she wants a more permanent solution." "Close enough." Natasha gave a dramatic sigh and shook her head, tilting it to the side in an adorable way with her adorable little smile and nose scrunch, "Never satisfied." "I want to eat his face off." "She-" you paused before you could say it and raised a finger. "Look you need to chill." "Just say it," she argued. You shook your head and rolled your eyes, finally allowing your own hands to find her hips, "I'll keep her in check." "Thank you," she said before pecking your nose. "And V?" "Yes?" she answered unnecessarily. Natasha could not hear her. She smiled cutely anyway, "Thank you for defending my honor." "Of course," she said, too much pride in her tone. "This little shit would not do it." The cursing made you roll your eyes again, cursing yourself for giving her the material to use them so often against you. "Hey, be nice," you grumbled.
"What'd she say?" "She called me a coward," you answered. You looked off to the side as if you were facing her as you added, "For your information, I'm the one who even let you come out." Natasha's laugh pulled you from your shared thoughts and managed to make a smile slip through. "Come on. Let's get back inside. It's dark out and there's plenty of chocolate to please you before you can have some more supplements." She grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers as she pulled you to walk with her. As you all made your way back to the door to get inside, Havoc's voice spoke again, "Tell her this." "I'm not telling her any thing you say," you shake your head, Natasha's eyes finding you again. "Come on, trust me." "You are not good at conveying messages, V." "What is it?" Natasha inquired. "Just tell her that we love her." "What?" Her sentiment caught you off guard, stopping suddenly as you questioned her. It was not like you had not told her many times before, you just had no expected Havoc to want you to say it now.
"You heard me," her voice was unusually soft. "Tell her." You turned to Natasha, a soft smile finding your face. "I love you." She smiled in return, her hands coming up to hold your face, "Aww. I love you, too." Havoc got angry at you leaving her out of the equation, as if she was not the third wheel. "We!" she corrected, "We love her!" You rolled your eyes again, "She's my girlfriend, V. Do you even know what that means?" "Tell her!" she shouted. You huffed dramatically, "She said she likes you, too." "Love! Love her!" She moved you forcefully so your faces were barely inches apart. "Let us kiss her." "No," you told her, watching the expressions pass Natasha's face curiously as she watched you speak to yourself. "Why not?" "Because you always try to choke her with your weird tongue, and it makes her a little too excited." Natasha's brows furrowed, her head tilting again, "What are you talking about?" "She's being weird again." Havoc took control of your lips, moving you like some sort of puppet to get even closer to Natasha. She put your hands on her waist and pulled her in tighter. Natasha hummed in response, completely used to Havoc's antics by now, "Yeah, well, when is she not?" "Hey!" she complained. You sighed and rolled your eyes, shaking your head before admitting, "She said she loves you, too." Natasha smiled and chuckled, "Love you, Havoc." "Thank you." You took a hold of Natasha's chin and brought her in for a kiss that Havoc thankfully did not try to interfere with. Natasha chuckled lightly, pulling you in closer.
Sometimes... sometimes you and your complicated symbiote were on the same page.
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True Believer taglist: @xxromanoffxx @thelastpyle Red Ledger taglist: @ripleysupremacy180286 @nat-romanoffdanvers @nowthisisliving27 Red-Head taglist: @natasha-danvers​ Tag yourself here.
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peach-jelly-lemon · 2 months ago
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Turtle headcanons but almost all are about Donnie (movie spoilers)
- Spiny softshell turtles (I think thats what he is) have stripes from their eyes down to their neck and are covered in spots. I made those purple like the canon shoulder stripes. The extra stripes and spots became more noticeable after the movie when he was around 17/18.
- Spiny softshell turtles are not adapted well to handle changes in oxygen levels so Donnie has asthma
- Donnie is the younger twin
- He had glasses when he was younger but not during the show time because he outgrew them and has put off finding a suitable replacement because he hates the way the temples of them squish against his head when he also has his headphones/goggles on.
- Actually very squeamish around blood/major injuries but was unfortunately delegated to the stand-in medic after the events of the movie since Leo was out of commission.
- More of an ‘all the turtles’ thing but they go through three major growth spurts, (look at the babies compared to the tots compared to the show compared to future leo like woah there) one from 1-3, one at around 11, one at 18-20. The one at 18-20 gives them some more unique features like the spots, makes them even taller, and finishes their brain development (like humans at 25).
- Mikey caps out at 5′5 cause apparently all that growth went to his mystic powers. Donnie gets to 6′9 and Leo gets to 6′7. Raph gets to 7′2. Their new base after the movie is bigger.
- Will Wood listener
- Wants to go to comic-con type things but the idea of all those people makes him nauseated. If he did he would get fake tusks and very easily pass as a troll from world of warcraft cosplayer.
- He’s so used to taking notes/designing things/etc on a computer that combined with the turtle hands he has the worst handwriting of the four of them.
- Bi + demiromantic
- Best swimmer of all of them and can breathe underwater. Forgets that the others can’t breathe underwater very often.
- The worst case of resting murder face you’ve ever seen, to the point where he regularly practices ‘proper’ facial expressions/reactions in the mirror in order to not freak out strangers.
- That wrong tooth Leo took out when they were kids did not grow back properly and its on a little tilt towards the front of his mouth. He has considered removing it and replacing it with a gold one Just For The Look but has resigned himself not to. 
- Him and Raph were the bite-y kids. Raph grew out of it because of his fear of hurting his brothers by accident. Donnie did not. Definitely bites peoples arms to show affection and absolutely was given a dog chew toy by Leo for one of his birthdays. Actually uses it sometimes but nobody knows because it would be really embarrassing.
- In the Bad Future, taught Casey how to swim, do math, history, etc. Went out when Casey was 12, defending and evacuating the rebel base after they were found. To get everyone else out he had to remotely operate a lot of things and couldn’t escape with them. 
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invertedfate · 3 months ago
Is Flowey's literal inability to love and care about others tied to his SOULless state, his past trauma, his huge emotional and psychological baggage, or a combination of all 3?
I think it's a combination of factors. I think being soulless has impacted him, but I honestly think it's entirely possible he has some form of PTSD or depression as well. The thing with Flowey is that he's not a psychologist, and to our knowledge, he never went and got help from a psychologist. I also believe that Toriel and Asgore are really not great at meeting the needs of traumatized or neurodivergent kids. That's not a diss on either, but I think it's pretty telling in how they didn't seem to pick up on Chara's pain and bitterness in UT, and how both parents handle Kris in Deltarune. Toriel seems very passive about Kris' eccentricities and problems. She worries and cares, but the fact that their bathroom behavior is just something they do sometimes and she seems to have resigned herself to it is worrying, and Asgore is so estranged from Kris that he isn't even sure if they like big hugs or not. Asriel in Deltarune lived this very happy, successful life with tons of friends and accolades while Kris is a loner until Chapter 1 happens, and it strikes me that Toriel just... doesn't seem to know what to do. Plus even in Undertale, Toriel's gut response is that being loving and doting will make Frisk want to stay. I think both Toriel and Asgore struggle with the idea of a child whose needs can't simply be met through love. And so, with Asriel reviving as a flower, I think they'd struggle with the idea that he's changed and that their love isn't going to "fix" him, and I think HE'D struggle with that because he can't fathom the impact things like trauma would have on him, so he just resigns himself to this idea that he's unable to love when it might be more complicated. You can easily interpret Flowey's situation as a child not understanding mental illness and just assuming he is broken due to his lack of soul. Plus having the ability to rewind time over and over again probably didn't help, considering it gave him a get out of jail free card and made it so easy to see everyone and everything as just a cyclical game of sorts.
But post-game, he does seem to be able to care again to some degree. Whether that's because he worked through his trauma, retained some residual compassion from his time as Asriel again, or something else... well, there's a lot of room for interpretations!
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a-libra-writes · a year ago
GoT Imagines - When You're Engaged to Someone Else
Woooo this is a doozy and I'm including new characters, mostly book ones! because i both love my followers and have lost my marbles.
In this preference, you'll be pining with: Ned Stark, Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Benjen Stark, Jory Cassel, Mance Rayder, Eddison Tollett, Pre-Reek!Theon, Yara Greyjoy, Victarion Greyjoy, Daenerys Targaryen, Jorah Mormont, Missandei, Grey Worm, Tywin Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Cersei Lannister, Sandor Clegane, Bronn, Jaquen H’Ghar, Petyr Baelish, Robert Baratheon, Stannis Baratheon, Davos Seaworth, Margaery Tyrell, Brynden Tully, Edmure Tully, Brienne of Tarth, Ramsay Bolton, Roose Bolton, Oberyn Martell, Doran Martell, Arianne Martell, Tyene Sand
Ned Stark
He’s already an expert in suffering in silence, so this should be no different. Although he’s very surprised at the sudden arrangement, and while he isn’t a man to throw his rank around… He wonders if he can’t convince your family to reconsider. If it’s simply impossible, Ned would resign himself to having to stop the relationship. He’s too honorable to ever consider an affair and he’s not a man to start a duel or cause trouble, especially since it would negatively affect your reputation. The heavy combination of missing you, pining after you all over again and feeling like he didn’t do enough is hard. Some days he entertains the idea of still having a friendship, but it doesn’t seem like a good idea. He doesn’t trust himself.
Robb Stark
The young wolf tries to accept it, even if his feelings become more and more angry each day. Robb never threw his name around, but… he was going to be Lord Stark. Wasn't that good enough for your family? For you? He tries to be the bigger man, but if you're miserable with your spouse and they don't treat you well, he can't keep his temper in check. Expect him to have a sudden outburst at a feast and cause a scene. The only thinking keeping him from an outright duel are his parents and his worry about your reputation. But if he was pushed to it….
Sansa Stark
She should've known this would happen. It's the fate of all ladies, yet there's a bitterness that tugs at her when she hears the news. Sansa tries to bury her feelings around others, but she's never done that with you. She expresses her disappointment and sorrow, and swears she'll help if your spouse turns out to be awful. She doesn't want them to be, but she doesn't want you beginning to prefer their company, either. She wonders if her affection for you would wane if she just pined from afar and tried to keep her feelings to herself.
Jon Snow
Ah yes, once again his bastardry is hitting him straight in the gut. Jon knew it was going to happen eventually, he already felt like the relationship was on a timer, and now it’s finally ended. He’s convinced there’s no getting out of it, because even if you did - you’d never be able to be with him in the open. It makes Jon glad he’s going to the Wall; hopefully the distance and cold will dull his feelings. In spite of that, sometimes he’ll tell Sam about you, and he speaks so mournfully it makes Sam think that distance hasn’t done all that much to help Jon’s pining.
Benjen Stark
He should be the bigger person and accept that this is for the best. He’s sworn to the Wall, and you two shouldn’t have been sneaking around. He should be relieved neither of you were caught. None of these thoughts are comforting. Ben tries to cope by making not-so-joking jokes about you running off to the Wall too, or perhaps he should take Yoren’s job and find his way to your court once in a blue moon. Then there’s no joking, and it’s just bitterness. He removes himself from your life after that, not wanting to hurt you with his own negative thoughts. He’d rather you keep the happy memories.
Jory Cassel
He accepts it, not that it brings him any pleasure. Jory's always been proud of his service to the Starks, but he's long understood that his landed seat is not a valuable one. Whenever he married, if he did, it wouldn't be someone as lovely as you. The announcement still hits him in the gut and he dejectedly tries to break it off (though it's easier on him if you do it). If he was in charge of guarding you, he'd switch shifts immediately and begin avoiding you, thinking it'll make things easier.
Eddison Tollett
This relationship already seemed too good to be true, so it’s abrupt end is not surprising. He’s sworn to the Wall and you both were sneaking around to begin with, so this should have been expected, but… it just makes him feel even more tired and dumb. Sam and Jon notice how little he sleeps and that he’s begun to skip meals, and he doesn’t have to explain why. They can do the math. Edd at least doesn’t try to bury any sad feelings or memories. It’s too exhausting to actively try, and it’s something to keep him company while he works. Maybe the feelings will fade… eventually.
Mance Rayder
It's one more reason for him to leave the "South" and go past the Wall. He knew a proper relationship with you wasn't possible because of his vows, but watching you go through this sham of an arranged marriage is just depressing. He'll comfort you best he can until he has to go back to the Wall, though he won't make promises he can't keep. Having to separate from you weighs heavy on him for a long time, and is one of many reasons he abandons the Watch.
Theon Greyjoy
What the hell is this? Hearing the news ruins his whole day, worse if he wasn’t able to hear it directly from you. He’s the heir to the Iron Islands, and his interest in you was clear as day! No, he hadn’t proposed yet… but he was getting to it! Now some mainlander beat him to it? Theon is absolutely seething. He’d prefer to duel your spouse to teach them a lesson in front of everyone, but he’s open to more boring methods like reasoning with your family. If he wasn’t able to change the engagement, he’d be bitter, and more than willing to carry on an affair behind your spouse’s back. He ought to just go the Ironborn route and kidnap you for himself.
Asha (Yara) Greyjoy
When you give her the news and you’re clearly distraught about it, Yara considers carrying you off to her ship right there. If you’re non-Ironborn, you’ll be her saltwife -- and if you’re Ironborn, she wants to have a discussion with whoever the hell planned this when everyone KNOWS you belong with her. You hadn’t expected this possessive behavior, but now you know Yara’s willing to fight for you as soon as someone takes you. No surprise, she’s more than willing to sneak around with you behind your husband’s back - maybe she can goad him into a duel. That would certainly solve a problem, wouldn’t it?
Victarion Greyjoy
He doesn’t understand at first. Victarion had made it clear that you were his, hadn’t everyone known that? No, he never made any sort of formal marriage, but not because he didn’t care. He felt like there was no need, hadn’t everyone known? If your family and spouse are Ironborn, he’ll immediately sail to their keep and raise all seven hells, and marry you right there in front of them. If you were sent away to the green lands, it would take the combined power of Balon, Yara and Aeron to keep him from sailing off immediately and just kidnapping you - preferably after killing your spouse. Victarion is pissed. Someone is going to pay for this.
Daenerys Targaryen
She’s just as mad at you as she is with whoever arranged this ridiculous match. Daenerys doesn’t often entertain arrogant thoughts, but… How could anyone think to match you with someone else, knowing your relationship with her? She feels she ought to be offended, though Daenerys knows this is hard on you as well, and you didn’t ask for it. She’ll think of some clever way to get you out of the arrangement, no way is this person getting away from stealing from her. And yes, that might as well be what it is! While she’s working out what to do, if she so much as hears murmurs of the possibility of your spouse hurting you… all bets are off. She’s taking you back with her, alliance be damned.
Jorah Mormont
The announcement of your engagement is a punch to his gut and a shock to his system. Jorah knew he wasn’t the best husband material, but he was planning to ask for your hand himself - then this happened. What’s worse, he knows as far as practical marriage goes, he has little to offer. He goes into a bit of a panic as he tries to think of what to do. There’s sensible choices, like trying to talk to your family with you. Then there’s not so sensible ones… Maybe running off, maybe just continuing the relationship behind your new spouse’s back, maybe dueling them… While Jorah is in emotional turmoil, he’d do anything for you. Even if you wanted to break off the relationship… or had a plan for him to follow. He’s nothing if not hopelessly devoted.
… Oh. Maybe she shouldn’t have expected you to stick around for so long. As close as she is to Daenerys, she really has no fancy titles or things to offer. She understood why your family chose the match, it was a good one, politically speaking… but that does little to soothe her. Quite the opposite, a strong, desolate feeling overcomes her, one she hasn’t felt in a long time. She isn’t sure what to do, if it’s her place to stop the process. Perhaps if you asked her, she could try to make plans. Daenerys would help as well, considering how fond she is of you two, and how much she despises women being forced into arrangements.
Grey Worm
The sudden news takes him off guard, and sends him into a bit of an existential crisis. He was starting to see himself as a person, with his own name and a path he chose to follow… then this arrangement happens, and he’s forced to face what the rest of the world sees him as. It’s not that Grey Worm has a sense of ownership over you, but for once he was allowing himself all these happy feelings and memories with you, and now it’s gone. Of course he wants you back, but he feels paralyzed. What if he makes it worse? Does this have to happen? He starts to become even more withdrawn and distant, worrying Missandei until she decides to help. Grey Worm finally returns to his old self when he has you in his arms again.
Tywin Lannister
His steady composure is hit with such a rage at the news, the servant delivering it goes into a panic. His interest in you was obvious, so anyone doing this was trying to spite him. He doesn’t take the insult well. Perhaps before you’re even able to tell him the news yourself, threats will be delivered to both the spouse’s family and your own - Tywin is especially furious towards them, and won’t forget this - and incidents will be arranged. He refuses to be a man who pines after someone or covets another one’s wife, nor will he allow some lesser lord to take what he perceives as ‘his’.
Tyrion Lannister
The angst hits him like a ton of bricks, and it’s even worse if this came out of left field. It hurts less if he hears it from you, but only just. He should have known your family wouldn’t have accept any proposal he made - and gods know he was ready to do it - it’s just one more log to fuel his self-loathing and bitterness toward this world. But if you knock some sense into him, he’ll snap out of that spiral and begin to plan with you. There’s plenty of choices before the two of you - scandal? Running off? - but rest assured, Tyrion is going to investigate the hell out of this person. He’d never forgive himself if you got stuck with a brute.
Jaime Lannister
The fact he knew this was inevitable doesn't help Jaime's irritation. He can't believe your family arranged for that person to marry you. Seriously? You'd better keep Jaime at a distance from your spouse, because he can't help himself from making snide remarks and sarcastic comments. If he riles up the guy into a duel, all the better. He'll do all sorts of reckless things to begin with, and it's only worse when he's upset. He's also very willing to have an affair behind your spouse's back - you were with him first. You’ll probably have to scold Jaime about you two almost getting caught, but he’s above reproach. His stubbornness and jealousy gets worse the closer you two are.
Cersei Lannister
She’s absolutely infuriated with your family. You were her handmaiden, someone whose been with her for years - and they have the nerve to go behind her back like this?! It smells like a scheme of Tyrion’s, or perhaps Varys, but she’ll deal with them in time. For now, she’ll work out what to do about your spouse. She’ll try to keep you around as much as possible, and her possessiveness comes out in full. You can’t possibly be interested in such a worthless man.
Sandor Clegane
When you tell Sandor, he’s quiet for a discerningly long time before the anger and arguments come out. And then the quiet bitterness. The thing is, he knew this was coming for a while. He knew your time together was limited, he shouldn’t have things like hopes and happiness because it’ll just get taken away. And it is. Even if you explain you’ll try to break off the arrangement, that there’s still a way to get out, he has trouble believing it. He’s seen enough ladies get chained to useless fucking lords, he’d rather not see it happen to someone he cares about, thanks. Sandor will push you away as much as he can, but you could still attempt to convince him to have an affair… or perhaps leave King’s Landing entirely.
Ser Bronn of the Blackwater
He’s only mildly annoyed at the inconvenience. It’ll be a lot harder for you both to sneak around now, and forget about it if you’re having to move somewhere far away. Guess that’s the end of that ‘relationship’ - he should’ve expected it. Bronn is way more willing to stay close if you remain in King’s Landing, and he expects you both to keep fooling around. Now, if he’s actually started to develop feelings about you… he’ll start to act differently. You don’t actually like your spouse, do you? Wasn’t that just some arranged bullshit? He’ll throw smirks and subtle insults your spouse’s way, as if trying to goad them into a fight. More then once you two will almost get caught because he decides waltzing up to your window is totally acceptable, or trying to have a quickie in the middle of the day. A surprisingly jealous side will come out and he’s in total denial about any feelings he might have.
Jacquen H’ghar
This isn’t alarming to Jacquen at first. He knew he could never have such a union with you, and since this Westerosi society is so insistent on marriage, it would happen eventually. Still, your pain hurts him as well. Jacquen would have a variety of plans … anywhere from easily disguising as a guard or servant so he’s always beside you, or perhaps whisking you away somewhere. This isn’t the end of your relationship for him - it’s just a challenge to overcome. He assumes you won’t send him away or break it off.
Petyr Baelish
You being someone else’s wife makes no difference to Petyr, though he’s surprised in himself. Usually he stays out of such affairs, it only causes trouble… But he’s been intrigued by you, and quite frankly, he’s offended that this Lord Whoever from Wherever didn’t take his interest into account. No matter. Petyr has plenty of plans to deal with this pest, though he’s annoyed at his own jealousy whenever he sees you together with your spouse, even if you’re miserable. While he doesn’t want you unhappy, it certainly makes starting an affair and/or disposing of your spouse much easier.
Robert Baratheon
He’s furious and everyone is going to know about it. Robert will complain endlessly to Ned and Lord Arryn about how he found you first, how that useless shit of a husband won’t know what to do with you. Since he does little to hide his disgust, rumors will spread all over court. Hell, he’ll probably say even stupider things when he’s drunk, or he’ll do something stupider, like actually try to aggravate the guy into a fight or a duel. If you’re actually able to get him under control, he has no qualms about having an affair with you… but he may not be subtle about it. So that’s another thing to keep in mind.
Stannis Baratheon
It’s depressingly impressive how willing Stannis is to bury and deny his feelings once he hears you’re promised to someone else. He’ll try to extinguish all the happiness he had with you, bottle up all the memories and feelings that went along with it. This will be fine. He’ll be fine. This iron resolve is easy to maintain if Stannis rarely sees you. If you both are forced to interact even semi-often, it chips away at him, and he can’t help himself from making biting remarks about your spouse when you both visit. He hates feeling this way, he’s never felt it before, and he carries a deep grudge against your spouse and family for making it happen. It’s easier if you write to him, but then Stannis starts keeping those letters and punishing himself by reading them over and over. Eventually he stops entirely, deeming it inappropriate, even if that feels like cutting off one of his limbs.
Davos Seaworth
The old knight is understandably saddened by news of your betrothal and marriage, but it makes sense. Politics-wise, Davos believes he isn’t much of a prize, even when he’s risen to Lord. He should’ve expected this would happen. He’d wish you genuine happiness… But if you were miserable, Davos would feel awful and powerless. If you truly wanted to continue the relationship behind your spouse’s back, his biggest worry would be the secret getting out and your reputation being ruined. He wouldn’t be able to resist forever, but he’d still try to talk you out of it and try to convince you to forget about him.
Margaery Tyrell
She seeks you out the moment she finds out - and that was quickly, because she often keeps tabs on you. Her grandmother warned her about getting so close to her favorite, but it still comes as a terrible shock. Margaery holds you close and promises she’ll make it better, somehow. Maybe she and her grandmother can reason with her family, perhaps you can marry into the Tyrell family, so you both can be together. She’ll fix it, she swears. The thought of someone else being with you is terrible enough, she’ll be even more worried if the person is abusive. Margaery won’t stand for it, and might take a few rare risks for your sake.
Brynden Tully
This stirs up a lot of complicated feelings in the old knight. He knew his relationship with you wouldn’t last forever, that you’d have to marry eventually, and he never wanted to marry…. But he feels like this is his fault, especially if you’re miserable. He could’ve prevented this. Brynden knows he ought to break off the relationship, and he won’t blame you if you do… but he’ll also consider the idea of continuing the relationship. And if you have to go somewhere far away, he’ll still appreciate you sending letters and having a correspondence. The relationship may not be the same long-distance, but he cares a lot about you, and it hurts having you cut from his life.
Edmure Tully
Woe and misery. How much wine is in Riverrun’s stores? He may end up drinking a dent in it by the time the month is out. He almost didn’t believe the news until he heard it from several people, or just you directly. How could this happen? Wasn’t he courting you properly, taking all the steps just the right way? Wasn’t his interest obvious to anyone with eyes? Edmure approaches your family with a bit of a hot head, almost demanding an answer for why they chose whoever over … whoever your spouse is. Edmure doesn’t even care who it is, he hates their guts immediately. More likely than not, he’ll do something foolish, like start a duel. If all else fails, he’ll make sad eyes at you at all the feasts and galas and go into a bit of a depression.
Brienne of Tarth
Brienne is immediately distraught, but also believes she deserves it somehow. This happy relationship just had to come to an end, didn’t it? Well, you two had to be discreet about it to begin with, which didn’t please her … but this alternative feels worse. Brienne switches between trying to stay frosty to make it easier for you two to part, and being unable to hold back her affection and sadness. The best solution she can think of is to stay as your sworn sword, independent of your new husband’s house guards. And gods know, she will come at him with a vengeance if he even dares upset you or lay an unwanted hand on you. That means the relationship could continue, but she dislikes the secrecy even more when you’re married. While she doesn’t like the idea of running away from problems, maybe in certain circumstances, she’d be open to the idea…
Ramsay Bolton
Ramsay is irate, to say the least. Even if you don’t actually know him, you’ve just caught his eye, he’ll become possessive. If you both were romantic before the engagement news, his anger and possessiveness would be even more dangerous. Woe to your spouse if he lives close to the Dreadfort - leave it to Ramsay to think up some “accident” for them to be involved in. And if he finds out they’re involved in some sort of treason or crime, that’s all the better, no matter how flimsy the “crime” is. If he’s feeling especially reckless, he’ll just arrange their murder and take you back right away. Ramsay is a terrible loser, doubly so if it involves one of the few things he actually cares about.
Roose Bolton
On the outside he doesn’t react to the news beyond a silent glare. On the inside, Roose is furious. He had plans for you, plans that may have taken quite a while to get to this point, and now it’s been ruined by someone whose actively working against him… or too stupid to realize what a massive mistake they just made. Roose thinks up various ways to circumvent this and have you to himself. In the meantime, he’ll gladly continue an affair behind your spouse’s back, but that won’t necessarily save them from death. You’ll notice him become increasingly possessive and jealous, even if you have zero interest in your spouse, and you can sense he’ll be holding a deep grudge against whoever arranged this in the first place.
Oberyn Martell
As soon as he hears about the news, Doran has to talk him down from dueling the man…Half his daughters support it, the other half suggest something more subtle. Overyn feels insulted, for one - your affection for each other was obvious, yet your family still made this arrangement. And if he doesn’t get his duel, he will spread all sorts of unsavory, salacious rumors about your spouse, in hopes of creating a scandal that makes your family break the union. Or better, lead to the man dueling Oberyn directly! Oberyn doesn’t even consider continuing your relationship with him an “affair”. You both were together first, and a farce of a marriage you didn’t agree to won’t change that. You just have to make sure he can be discreet.
Doran Martell
While the news of your engagement is depressing, it isn't surprising. He's quite aware of the politics of Westeros, even if his own family doesn't believe it, and he had wind of this engagement. He just thought he could stop it in time. He hides his disappointment, but his family can tell he's withdrawing. Oberyn argues with his brother to go get you and fight, but Doran is a man of silent plans. He'll still love to correspond with you, and you can tell by his letters that he seems hopeful. Maybe he's thought of a way to break it off …
Arianne Martell
Well, isn’t this irksome? Arianne loved having you in her palace and keeping you all to herself, but then this foolish arranged marriage happened… She doesn’t hide her disdain, and she’s annoyed at herself for not doing more to stop it. The princess will spend no small amount of time being angry at the unfairness of it. Once she’s calmed, she doesn’t see why you both can’t continue the relationship behind closed doors. You’re both used to sneaking around, anyway. And Arianne can’t resist ferreting around for some salacious rumors about your spouse… Wouldn’t it be a shame if she found out something that led you to your family cutting the betrothal off?
Tyene Sand
She’s beyond annoyed at this outcome. You were her favorite, in more ways than one, and while she didn’t delude herself into thinking you’d be together forever… well, couldn’t you both have spent your days in court in service to the Martells, or perhaps left forever on a boat to Essos? Why did this have to happen so soon? She’s despondent, much as she tries to hide it, even with her sisters trying to comfort her. She begins to think of plans, just little things … a rumor here, a scheme there. She’ll feel much better if you remain in the Sunspear court, so she can stay close and your relationship can continue.
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behold-the-griffin · 11 months ago
A Monologue About Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach My Beloved*spoilers ahead*
So despite not having ever given a single shit about Frederick Fazbear or whatever the fuck his name is, Security Breach is a comedic masterwork and here are all the reasons why I love it. 
1) The villain is a furry. 
This woman, this grown-ass adult, decided to start murdering children. Already a red flag. But then, but then, she thought to herself, “Gee, how should I go about doing this?” And she decides that the best option, the best way to go about this horrific deed, is the fucking homemade rabbit suit. Given the previous context of the games, you might say, “Griffin! This is normal!” I’ll give that to you, the fucked up reality that children are often murdered by furries in this universe is true. 
But our dear Vanessa, our beloved idiot Vanny, has to make her suit. She has to rock up to Joanne’s Fabrics and select out materials, lying through her fucking teeth to the cheery assistant about what her project is. Her victims are what? Eleven, twelve, going off of Gregory’s age? I will bet my fucking life that one of those kid’s last words was “Hah, are you a furry?” And she can’t fucking deny that. She can’t. She may have slashed his throat half a second later, but he’s the one who eviscerated her with five words. 
2) Our protagonist fears no god
We play as Gregory, a surprisingly bitter child with an astounding disregard for basically everything. He’s eleven. He’s a half-feral goblin child. As a former half-feral goblin child, I can respect his snark. 
What I cannot respect, however, is how fucking savage he is. Eleven year old me, while down to commit atrocities, would’ve hidden under a table and resigned myself to death. Eleven year old me would not have the moxie to juke around seven foot tall robots and hurl themselves through vents with a little demon spider thing in them. 
My boy Gregory? Nah. He’s wrecking Chica’s shit and yeeting go karts at Roxy. Disassembling humans and fighting Grandpa Afton with the equivalent of a nerf gun combined with a laser pointer or just a fucking camera. Eat shit, you overgrown Furbies, God gave Gregory the ability to press buttons and he’s about to make it everyone else’s problem. 
GREGORY STEALS CARS. In one of the endings, Freddy and Gregory steal a van and drive their way out of the pizzaplex. Guess who’s driving. I’ll give you a hint. It’s not the one who can actually reach the pedals. THAT’S RIGHT, BABES, IT’S GREGORY. First the go kart, and now this. It’s canon. 
Gregory’s personality grated on me a little bit in the beginning, I won’t lie. I thought he was kinda mean. But as I watched the game unfold, I realized that Gregory had every right to be prickly. He’s scared, he’s a kid, and he’s fighting for his life. And what’s more, he’s homeless. You don’t really get to be scared. You gotta look out for yourself, and that’s what he’s doing. 
3) Freddy Fazbear
Where can I fucking begin. Buckle the fuck up. 
The dichotomy of his design. The neon blue tattoos, the little earring, the fucking top hat. His ears wiggle and his teeth are sharper than they should be. He’s huge and scary and gentle and kind and I love him for that. I know that the design is probably just to make them more marketable, but damn, they did good. 
The voice. They got a really solid voice actor, and whatever effects they layered on to make him sound like a robot didn’t diminish the emotion put in. He sounds like a friend, someone I’d like to talk to. In general, the voice acting for this game is incredible overall, but I am just a little disappointed that we never got to hear Freddy sing. 
His dynamic with Gregory. What can I say, I’m a slut for healthy platonic relationships. Though they start off rocky, and their bond is forged by shared danger, their interactions are genuinely sweet. Sometimes a family is a boy and his robot bear dad, and that’s that. 
4) Map Bot. 
I find it hysterical that with all the legitimately dangerous things hunting you down, the scariest thing is a repurposed security bot with glasses who shoves maps at you. They made it a running gag, and for me, it doesn’t get old. Free map. Take a map. I love them. 
5) The other animatronics
I love how they each have their own quirks and personalities. Monty has anger issues, Roxy has self-loathing tendencies, and Chica has an eating disorder. They’re so very human, and I honestly find it both hilarious and sad that the reason isn’t the usual “dead kid possession,” but that they were coded that way. I really wish we got to see more of them than just them hunting us down, but the game was already huge, and stuffing more into it would be difficult. 
Freddie calls them his friends, and I don’t doubt for a second that if something hadn’t been screwing with their code, they’d be just as caring as Freddy. Who, by the way, was completely on board with the fact that Gregory potentially had no clue what a fountain was and was totally ready to explain that. No questions, just simple acceptance, and the probable in-universe explanation of them just interacting with kids who have an incredibly patchwork knowledge of things in general and them being programmed to have no judgement about that is really nice. 
I honestly felt bad, picking them off one by one. Especially Roxy. I know what it’s like to hate yourself, and hearing her sob as she tries to reassure herself that she’s not a failure actually made me feel like a piece of shit. It goes back to the incredible voice actors they found. 
And Sun and Moon as well. I don’t really understand how people are so thirsty for them, but I never understood attraction anyway. But what’s really funny about that is how people are incredibly aware that if one tried to put the moves on them, Sun would ban them from the daycare in an instant and Moon would probably just snap their necks. 
I personally don’t find their dynamic with Gregory as compelling as Freddy, but Sun and Moon freak me out for reasons I can’t quite explain. They’re not my favorite, but the angst potential with them is astronomical and I think that’s very sexy of Steel Wool Studios to give those of of you who are so inclined some fodder for your fics. 
6) The game itself. 
Far from the simple mechanics and one room of the first game, the setting is fucking huge. It’s really impressive that they managed to pull of the free-roam dynamic so well. What I wouldn’t give to explore the entirety of the pizzaplex without being hunted down, or with those fucking security bots always smashing themselves into my face and then immediately letting go. 
The lighting’s really cool, and the part with the endoskeletons is terrifying. I also like how you didn’t have to schlep back and forth across the nature map on fetch quests, but I would’ve like to visit a place other than the service tunnels more than once. 
Even with the various bugs and glitches it opened with, it was definitely entertaining to play and more importantly, playable. Here’s to you, Cyberpunk 2077, for setting the bar so fucking low. 
Despite it only being one night, Security Breach is full of secrets and lore and is just really fun. I like the new direction Steel Wool is going in with the survival horror, and I look forward to future games. 
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himbotwice · 2 months ago
hero touya who finally realizes, as an adult, that he never really wanted to be a hero. he just wanted enji to care about him. but even now, enji doesn't really care about him, just what he can do for him. and even then he's still really only interested in shouto, touya's barely an afterthought, mostly a nuisance with enji still putting the weight of all his dreams onto shouto's shoulders.
then a couple of things go wrong when he's in pursuit of wanted man jin bubaigawara, who's just fattened up his wallet at a bank. someone gets overzealous, jin panics a bit, and in the end, jin and touya end up underground beneath a formerly-condemned-now-rubble building. while they wait for rescue, which will take a day or two to ensure they don't, y'know, die, they get to talking. and talking. and talking. jin gives touya the weirdest mix of a harsh lecture and pep talk he's ever received in his entire life.
jin is kind. roughed up, crude, but kind. one of the most wanted men in japan, and he's probably the kindest person touya's ever met. and it sort of makes him snap. the fact that enji, who couldn't care less about being a decent father to the children he practically demanded be dragged into existence, who hit his mother until she broke and poured boiling hot water over shouto's face, who's probably spoken a total of fifty words to natsuo and fuyumi combined, who could barely spare him a glance, who forced shouto to train until he couldn't stand... this piece of shit is at the top of the food chain, offered media deals and lavished in admiration of kids who don't know any better, who has practically everything except the title of number one. and when he doesn't have that, he forces everyone else to suffer for his stupid success.
then there's jin, who's talking his ear off, resigned to the fact that he's probably going to prison now, wistfully telling touya he's always wanted a pet of some sort but never got the chance. and there's a little restaurant on the street he used to work that he's always wanted to try but never found the time. how he's always dreamed of going to see the ocean, but he's never been outside the city, and now his future is mostly surrounded by slabs of concrete and wire fences and iron bars. touya almost feels stupid about complaining about his own life, but jin doesn't sneer or huffs. joins him, actually, when he has nothing good to say about his old man.
by the time they're ready to extract touya and the robber, enji's there to ask if jin is still in custody. of course, touya says, who does he take him for? and it's too late for the heroes. by the time they realize that the touya that dragged a cuffed jin over to the ambulance were just clones, and that the real touya and jin were making a run for it, there's not much they can do. jin's an expert at stealing vehicles, knows exactly what to do, with a practiced speed that touya doesn't notice because he's laughing at enji's flabbergasted gawk as they peel off.
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jl-micasea · a year ago
Move | lfl
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❝𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞. 𝐍𝐨𝐰.❞
↳ Combine dance class with a touch of jealousy from your boyfriend. The result, is this.
↳ Female reader x Felix
↳ 2.3k
! Strong language, pw/op, established relationship, angst and tension, dancer Felix, dancer reader, explicit sexual content, dominant Felix, spanking, degradation, orgasm denial, adult themes throughout !
「suitable for 18+ readers only」  「© May 2020 by jl-micasea-fics」
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“Okay, you know what- everyone! Just stop!”
You froze in place as the dance teacher once again made everyone cease what they were doing. She moved to the sound table, flicking off the music as everyone caught their breaths momentarily.
You’d been practicing for what felt like hours, and no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t keep up. You definitely had two left feet today, which was so unlike you. You usually nailed dance practices, always being one of the first in your group to pick up the routine and learn the new choreo.
But for whatever reason, your stars seriously weren’t aligning today.
You tensed as the teacher screeched your name for the third time in as many minutes.
“Can you please explain to me what the hell is wrong with your legs? I know you weren’t born crooked, so why are you moving like that?!”
You nodded weakly, knowing that she was right.
“Sorry, teach.” You sighed, swiping your arm across your forehead to collect the sweat that had formed there.
You shifted on your feet, feeling horrendously uncomfortable under the judgmental stares of your peers. And under the stare of one man, in particular.
“What’s going on?” Felix mouthed to you from across the room.
His usually sleek blonde hair was fluffed and messy, sweat rivulets trickling down his neck from the exertion of the dancing. He was by far and away the most attractive guy here, and much to your smug satisfaction, he was also your boyfriend. But that was all a secret of course… you’d be hauled over the coals if the company ever found out you were dating.
Even so, that wasn’t about to stop you admiring him from afar, in all his tense and sweaty glory.
You shrugged at him in defeat, feeling frustration bubble in your stomach.
“One more time. From the top!"
The teacher huffed something under her breath as she flicked the music back on. Everyone moved into position, readying themselves for the routine.
You counted in the steps, centering all your focus into getting this right.
1… 2… 3… 4…
You carried out the moves, popping and rolling your body to the music just how you’d been shown. Good. This was better.
5… 6…
Keep going…
7… 8-
Exactly as you’d done before, your foot caught on your back leg as you performed the spin, and you tumbled helplessly to the ground. You winced as your elbow connected with the hard wood laminate, causing a sharp shooting pain to creep up your arm.
The teacher threw her arms in the air, marching back to the table and flicking off the music once again.
"Jesus, you okay?”
You felt strong arms lifting you up, and you turned to see Hyunjin bending over you. His silky black tresses fell over his eyes, sticking to his concern ridden face in some areas where he’d started to sweat.
“I- I’m fine…” You stammered, gladly taking his support as he pulled you off the floor.
“Y/N, you’re going to put me in an early fucking grave!” The teacher shouted.
You sighed under your breath as you rubbed your elbow, resigning yourself to the cussing out you knew was coming.
“Hyunjin! Can you help this girl please, honey?” She called, gesturing towards the tall boy. “You’ve got this routine nailed. Just show her how it’s done, will you?”
You looked at Hyunjin, who didn’t seem to be averse to the idea.
“Everyone else, pair up. Go over the dance break. You two-” She pointed at you and Hyunjin. “Start from the top.”
Hyunjin smiled at you, gesturing with his head for you to follow him. He led you to the back of the room, to a quieter spot where you’d be able to focus better.
“Everything okay?” He asked softly. “You don’t normally struggle with this.”
You shrugged your shoulders, not sure what to say.
“I know… Guess I’m just having an off day.”
Hyunjin nodded, moving into position in front of the mirror.
“Okay, well. Let’s start from the beginning. Just do as I do.” He explained calmly, going over the dance moves as slowly as he could.
You followed his movements, stood next to him as you watched him in the mirror. Your eyes were totally locked to his body, in awe of how easy he seemed to be finding it.
“Wait- no…” He laughed, stopping you mid movement. He positioned himself behind you, resting his hand on the small of your back.
“Keep your back straight. It’ll make the arm motions easier. Try again.”
You cleared your throat, but complied with his request. His hand on your body kept you in place, and he was right… it did make the arm motions easier. Using the new found strength in your muscles, you held your arms open wide and brought them back down around you, just like the routine demanded.
“That’s good!” Hyunjin praised, smiling at you through the mirror.
“Th- thanks…” You smiled awkwardly.
“Okay, so the spin. Don’t focus so much on trying not to fall and just let your body do what it needs to. Here-”
He moved closer to your back, resting both his hands on your hips. The warmth of his touch made you tense, and you were painfully aware of how gentle he was being with you.
“Try it now.”
You nodded and started the movements, watching him and yourself in the mirror.
But you could feel eyes burning into the back of your head.
You risked a look at Felix, who was watching you with such intensity that you instantly shivered in response. The look in his eyes was fierce, his jaw tense as his gaze flicked from your face to Hyunjin’s hands on you.
Oh, no.
“Y- you know what- I think I’ve got it…” You laughed, trying to move away from Hyunjin’s grasp before Felix burst a vein. But he pulled you back in place, and you gasped in surprise at his strength, stumbling backwards and colliding with his front.
“The teacher asked me to help. So I’m helping. Do the spin.”
Your bodies now flush against each other, you nodded meekly. You were so going to pay for this later…
Trying desperately to ignore Felixs’ blatant displeasure with this whole situation, you began the moves again and psyched yourself up for the spin. You turned your body, Hyunjin’s hands moving over your curves as he twirled you around, keeping you steady.
With barely any effort, you pulled it off. And you did it beautifully.
Your mouth went agape with shock, and you quickly felt a surge of delight take over. You bounced up and down in excitement, clapping your hands together.
“Good job! You nailed it.” Hyunjin beamed as he clapped for you.
“Thank you!” You squealed, throwing your arms around his middle as you embraced him in a tight hug.
“Oh- uh, that’s okay… I was just doing what I was asked…” He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You’re a lifesaver, seriously. I’ll remember this in future, I-”
You were cut off mid-sentence as the teacher flicked off the music and waved her hands to get everyone’s attention.
“Okay, take a break troops! Back in half an hour, okay?” She called. “And Y/N? Take a walk, go eat, go sleep, do whatever you need to do - but I want you back here in top form, yes?”
You smiled brightly at her and gave her a firm salute, turning to leave the room as everyone else broke off into their groups. Your confidence had returned to you in waves, and you were sure you could do it without Hyunjin’s help now.
Although your happiness was short lived.
A firm grip on your wrist made you whine in complaint, and you turned to see a stone-faced Felix right behind you.
“With me. Now.”
You didn’t get a chance to protest before he was dragging you out of the room and down the corridor.
“Lix… you’re hurting me-”
He scanned the halls, not even turning to look at you as he burst open a door to a small vocal training room. He threw you inside, slamming the door behind him and clicking the lock.
You rubbed your wrist with your fingers, trying to ease the soreness he’d inflicted.
“What the hell-”
You silenced yourself the minute you saw his face. He was positively shaking with rage, his eyes black and hooded. You instinctively took a step backwards, your throat going dry at his intimidating aura.
“Lix… Please just let me-”
“Shut your fucking mouth.”
Your eyes flew open in surprise as Felix lunged for you, his fingers entwining into your hair and grabbing the scruff of your ponytail as he yanked your head backwards. His lips crashed into yours, consuming you with a possessiveness you’d never felt from him before. He desperately pushed you up against the wall, his body so flush against you that you struggled to breathe.
“You like the way he touches you?” Felix growled as he pulled away, his eyes glossing over with something you couldn’t identify.
“W- what?” You stammered, breathless from the ferocity of his kiss.
“I saw the way you looked at him. Like you were gagging for it.”
“Felix, no, I-”
You were promptly spun around and your front was forced up against the wall. Felix’s hands slid down the sides of your body, finding their way to your behind. He rolled his hips into your butt, forcing a small whine out of you as you felt his solid member press against you.
“Looks like I need to remind you who you belong to, whore.”
His large hands cupped your cheeks, and he firmly smacked the supple skin with one sharp slap. You whined again, arching your back, helpless to do anything but take it. You felt every single one of his smacks, the tight nylon workout leggings you were wearing doing nothing to ease the sting.
“Lix- please…”
“Did I say you could speak?” He purred, dipping his fingers into the waistband of your leggings. “Fuck, these make me crazy on you-”
He pulled at the elastic and let it bounce back onto your skin, creating a gentle rippling effect down your firm, pert butt cheeks. Felix bit on his lip, repeating the action as he watched your body respond to him.
“Who did you wear these for, whore?”
Your breath hitched in your throat as he began to pull them down over your butt.
“Answer me.” He hissed, kicking your legs apart with his feet.
“F- for you…” You whispered, a whimper escaping your lips as he reached down and slid his fingers through your folds.
Felix hummed as your juices covered his fingertips, and he brought them up to your lips.
You opened your mouth, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and holding it in place as you greedily took his wet digits into your mouth. The taste of yourself made you feel nothing short of filthy, but it was also an utter turn on.
“Bend over.”
You gasped as Felix roughly positioned you over the small table in the room, pulling your leggings down to your knees. You waited for the inevitable, your breathing erratic and your core simply tingling with anticipation.
Felix gripped at your hips, pulling you backwards towards him.
A delicious moan emitted from you as you felt his solid length push into you, but he didn’t give you even a second to adjust.
Snapping his hips, he fucked you at an intense pace, the smacking sounds of skin on skin filling the small, cramped room. You desperately tried to muffle your cries of pleasure, biting on your arm to stifle yourself. But it was useless. He was hitting you so hard, in every way, claiming you like you’d forgotten how good it was to be at his mercy.
“Who do you belong to?” Felix growled, his hold on your hips tightening.
A sharp smack to your behind made you mewl, the stinging sensation creeping over you as he spanked the still tender skin.
“Who do you fucking belong to?”
“Y- you! I belong to you, Lix. Ugh, fuck, please…” You whimpered as your core began to tighten, the familiar build up of an intense orgasm stirring inside you. Your body began to tremble, your knees giving way beneath you as Felix pounded you with a carnal ferocity.
“Oh… no, whore. You don’t get to enjoy this. This is a punishment-”
Another sharp slap made you wince, and the build up of your orgasm quickly faded as the stinging took over.
“L- Lix…” You whined, looking back over your shoulder in an attempt to appeal to him.
Your head was quickly forced forwards as Felix grabbed you by the ponytail, wrapping your tresses around his hand and yanking your head back. Your body lunged forwards as he fucked you, the table you were bent over now bouncing mercilessly against the wall.
“You’re gonna hug other guys? Smile for them? Wear these leggings and flash this tight little ass to them? That won’t wash, baby…” He purred, his motions becoming gradually sloppier as he felt his own high approach.
“Ugh- fuck…” He groaned deeply, his voice raspy. His muscles tensed, his length stiffening inside you, making you mewl in desperation for your own need to cum.
Another delicious snap of his hips pushed him over the edge, and he trembled violently as he released inside you. His cheeks burnt a bright shade of red, his hair clinging to his already sweaty face. You hummed in delight at the feeling, but were still nowhere near being satisfied.
Pulling himself out of you, Felix quickly pulled his sweats back up and spun you around. You watched as he lifted your leggings back over your hips, twanging the elastic against your skin.
“Maybe if you’re a good girl, we’ll pick this up later, hm?” He smirked, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.
You pouted at him, shifting uncomfortably as your still throbbing core demanded attention. You couldn’t believe he was really doing this to you, especially when you still had hours of practice ahead.
“Just remember, kitten.” He purred as he headed for the door. “I’m the only dance partner you’ll ever need.”
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𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: One of the first requests I wrote and adapted for the blog, I believe. It’s a cheeky one, reading back over it now I can hardly believe I came up with such a thing. But there we are. Hope you enjoyed, please consider leaving a word or two of feedback if you did. 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐚.
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iliveiloveiwrite · a year ago
A Truth Universally Acknowledged // Anthony Bridgerton
Request: Hi angel! I love all of your stories, especially your Bridgerton and work! Is there any way you could write something soft and fluffy for Anthony and a female reader! PLEASE AND THANK YOU - Anon.
A/N: I haven’t written for Anthony in what seems like forever! As much as I love Benedict, I do love writing Anthony fics. This isn't overly long, I just wanted to write something soft and fluffy that’s entirely domestic as well. I hope you all like! Title is a quote from the first line of Pride and Prejudice (further quotes from the book are in italics).
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader.
Warnings: none - fluff, books, marriage, happy relationships, cute.
Word Count: 1.6k
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The house is silent as Anthony strides through the waiting, open door. He nods his greeting to the Butler, Wilkins, before letting the weariness that had haunted him all day settle over his bones.
“Wilkins?” Anthony asks; no need to voice the question. Wilkins knows.
“Lady Bridgerton is in the Green-and-Gold, sir.”
Anthony smiles at the Butler. “You really do know everything.”
Wilkins smiles; nods his head. “It is my job, sir. Lady Bridgerton has already told me that you will take your final meal of the day in there, too.”
Anthony takes the stairs two at a time; refusing to accept his laboured breathing by the time he reaches the top. He was not an old man yet; he was still a very active man.
Turning left, he wanders blindly to the Green-and-Gold room named for the colour scheme of the walls and the furniture. His late grandmother had decorated the room; so fondly remembered by her ancestors that each refused to change a thing in the room save for any upholstering that needed to be done occasionally.
He finds you sitting on the left hand side of the room; the comfier side as argued by everyone who visits the room. Your legs are curled underneath you as your eyes pour over the page of an open book in your lap. From here, Anthony cannot possibly hazard a guess as to what you might be reading, but he feels a twinge of jealousy at the attention being paid to the book and not to him.
Well, love makes fools of us all, Anthony thinks to himself. “Darling,” Anthony greets in one single breath, as if the sight of you makes it all the easier for him to breathe.
“Darling,” You smile, standing from your seat, coming to greet the man you love with every fibre of your being. “How was your day?”
Anthony groans as he removes his jacket before tugging at the knot of his cravat. “Long,” He complains, struggling with the neckpiece. You smile at your husband, batting his hands away from his neck so you can take over. You feel the heat of his gaze as your hands work to do undo the knot he had tightened with a single tug; as the fabric unravels under your nimble fingers your husband reaches out to squeeze your waist.
“Thank you,” He whispers, voice full with an emotion you can’t quite decipher. Love? Weariness? A combination of both? Anthony looked ragged as you run your eyes over his face.
“I’m sorry that your day has been taxing, my love.”
“It’s all the better now that I’m here with you.”
“Flatterer,” You tease with no real heat behind your words. Anthony beams at you; eyes crinkling in the corners from the force of it as his hands tighten on your waist and his head dips to capture your lips in the kiss he has been thinking about for the better part of his day.
Breaking away, Anthony plants one, two, three kisses to your lips in quick, chaste succession leaving you breathless and highly amused. “How was your day?” He asks, curious as ever to find out what his wife does when he isn’t at home to distract you.
“Dull,” You answer plainly, enjoying the feel of Anthony’s strong arms around you.
You purse your lips, thinking over your plans for the day so far. “I suppose dull doesn’t work. It hasn’t been dull at all.”
“I’m only saying it because I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” He murmurs, kissing you once more. “What are you reading?” Anthony asks when he pulls away, spying the book laid delicately on the couch.
“Eloise let me borrow it. She gave me it when I called to see her this morning,” You answer, leaving the comfort of Anthony’s arms to take your seat on the couch.
“Darling, you know we have an entire library full of books, don’t you?”
Fixing him with an unimpressed look, you counter, “Your sister read this and thought of me. The least I could do is read it.”
“Alright,” Anthony sighs, knowing a losing battle when he sees one. “Budge up.”
Anthony gestures to the couch. “Make some room for me.”
A puzzled look settles across your face, but you follow the request, nonetheless, shifting on the couch so Anthony has room to sit down.
Anthony settles with his head on your lap; offering you a self-satisfied smile when you raise an eyebrow at him. “Comfy?” You ask, voice laced with humour.
“Very,” He responds. “Will you start from the beginning? I don’t want to miss anything.”
Chuntering about high maintenance husbands, you mark the page you got to before returning to the beginning. “Anything else before I begin?”
“Nothing… Oh, one thing.”
“That is?”
“I love you.”
Any previous ire you felt towards your husband disappears at those three magical words. The frustrated slant to your brow evens out as you reach out to stroke a hand through his hair and down the side of his face.
“I love you too,” You answer earnestly, feeling the power of the emotion running through you.
A peaceful look crosses Anthony’s face as your words sink into his skin like a balm on an open wound. He had felt neglectful lately; not spending as much time at home as he would have liked. He felt bad for leaving you so alone. Without children, you were your own companion throughout the day, and whilst you had both discussed having children, Anthony was to be left mildly vexed at the thought of you spending your days alone until a child was born.
The opening of parliament combined with Anthony’s seat in the House meant that he was spending more and more time in Westminster and less time with you.
A ratio Anthony was not fond of.
“I’m ready when you are,” He whispers; eyes focused on your face so he can watch every reaction and see every syllable leave your mouth.
Flashing an annoyed look at your husband, you take a deep breath and begin:
“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”
“What?” Anthony asks, eyebrows furrowed.
“Hush,” You admonish half-heartedly before continuing.
“However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.”
“This author is a genius,” Anthony exclaims, his voice awed as he tries to catch a glimpse of the cover to see the author’s name. “Who wrote this?”
“Are you going to comment the whole way through? I’ve barely read two paragraphs.”
“Sorry, darling, but I have to know. Who wrote this?”
“Her name is Jane Austen.”
“Well Jane Austen is a genius. In two paragraphs she’s captured what it is like to be a single man with a fortune in and amongst the sharks with unattached daughters.”
“Sharks?” You ask, highly amused at your husband’s words.
“Mothers,” Anthony shudders, remembering what it was like to go through so many seasons still unmarried. A Viscount with two seats of power combined with a hefty ancestral fortune – many mothers didn’t care whether Anthony would love their daughters; they simply wanted a fortuitus marriage that would leave them set for life.
Anthony thanks any and all gods and deities out there that he found his love match in you. You had taken him by surprise; Anthony had already resigned himself to a season with countless mothers forcing their daughters onto his arm. Until one evening early into the season, he had been listening to Gregory whine about the workload at Eton when his eyes met yours from across the room. In a total state of cliché, Anthony met your gaze, and he knew. He knew that he was going to spend the rest of his life loving you, worshipping you. He knew that whatever his future held, you would be right there weathering it alongside him. In a single glance from across the room, he knew.
You were married before the season finished; a special licence dispensed after a favour from the Archbishop called in. Anthony couldn’t wait; didn’t want to wait – he wanted to start the rest of his life with you as soon as possible.
Your light laughter breaks Anthony out of his reverie. “They aren’t all that bad,” You argue. “I suspect you’ll be worse than me when it comes to our children.”
Anthony snorts; doubting your words but loving the way you speak so openly about your hopeful future family. Clearing your throat, you continue to read on.
Anthony settles further into your lap; letting the calmness of your voice wash over him. After a moment of watching the concentration on your face, Anthony lets his eyes slip closed. He has no intention of falling asleep; he simply wants to enjoy this moment to its fullest.
“Mr Bingley was good looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr Hurst, merely looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features…”
A snore interrupts your rendition of Pride and Prejudice. Pausing mid-sentence, you look down to your lap where Anthony has fallen asleep so peacefully. Smiling softly at the man, you close the book, placing it to one side before running a hand through Anthony’s ever-unruly hair. He hums contentedly, pushing his head further into your hand as you begin to scratch at his scalp.
As you watch Anthony doze dreamily, you feel your eyes lose the fight against the growing tiredness. Your hand stills in Anthony’s hair as you fall asleep alongside your husband, utterly content at the path your life has taken considering it led you to him.
Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @janelongxox​ @aspiringsloth20​ @wallwriterstuff​ @magicalxdaydream​ @darkestbeforethedawn16​ @gryffindors-weasley​ @spideysz​
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girasoleclipse · 4 months ago
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I have been thinking alot of CatDog - and the movie no less - and well, when it comes to Cat specifically. So this is me just getting all my brain thoughts and ramblings down because lordy.
It comes to no surprise of two things:
a. Dog in the end, remembers the little things their parents did when they were little and believes their parents to be looking for them.
b. Cat doesn't remember and firmly believed their parents weren't looking for them.
Let's head back to the first piece of the second statement.
Cat doesn't remember.
Now, it comes par for the course that their attitudes are heavily believable, our optimistic Dog and cynical Cat. Dog wholeheartedly believes in his theories; while Cat has brief moments where he might believe, "Who am I trying to kid?" It's been so long, of course he'd resign himself to the fact their parents haven't bothered with them.
Given their life in Nearburg, that also comes with the territory as well. So, even if Cat DID remember, if the entire world wants to kick ol' CatDog down what is there to believe?
My theory - based on the flashbacks the movie gives us alone - is that Cat was heavily affected more visibly by the events.
Anyone watching and invested into CatDog can notice one big thing - Cat is a lot more sensitive to perceptions of him. Winslow's comments of being stuck to Dog results like in him wanting some alone time, only to miss Dog dearly. When people laugh at the flea belt he and Dog wear, the fleas eventually render null because he didn't want to be seen associated with it - to name a few.
Even when you look at the brief scene with the parents' pictures, Cat had the tendency to cry alot. For what we don't know, but enough at least for me to make a hypothesis.
a. Cat's original end of the double binky was the part of his mother grabbed on to rescue them, which resulted in him going INTO the inside of the tornado that would seperate him. They were both in the winds but we see him go inside. Combine losing his parents - a source of comfort for any baby - is it no wonder that the first thing we see him do is cry.
b. And then we have Winslow basically torture the poor with taking the pacifier away like a game. It is obvious in the moment it makes him smile, it soothes him. It's an object of comfort - and it's constantly taken away from him. Does je remember that? We don't know, but it is pretty telling.
[The implications of Winslow raising him and this being the first thing of them with baby CatDog is. Everyone else is quick to reject that canon for good reason - and for me, it kind of makes Vexed of Kin hurt in a different way that I will save for another post because we know who Winslow would favor.]
Deep down, I think he wants to - why else does he hold onto the momento of the pacifier if he didn't - but as he says to Dog when the latter gives up, "I wish I had your dogged determination to chase after something you believe in...I'm talking about our parents. You never gave up hope that they are out there looking for us and that they do care about us." He loves his brother so much that he wasn't going to let Dog give up when he didn't.
And maybe it is just me and maybe pure coincidence, but it is his quick thinking when the eruption happens again that saves all of them. He is reunited with parents who love him, he has his brother. He basically stands up and take action, saves them from the Greasers and their other enemies and they get their happy ending. What a guy wouldn't do for his family?
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hologramcowboy · a month ago
Hi! You know what I've been thinking recently? I've been thinking about whether J & D will ever divorce and the conclusion I came up with is....no. I truly don't think they'll ever get divorced. ✋🏼 now, hear me out.... there was a story J told at a con... about D getting covid and having to quarantine in the master bedroom and how J had to bunk with JJ....now, I don't like D as much as the next person, but, if I was sick with covid and I was isolated for a week and emerged from my bedroom and saw that the house was a mess (that's basically what J said), I'd be pissed too (like D was) that I would have to be the one to clean it all up. Now, take that story and combine them with all the times J had said that D runs "a tight ship" and how she's the "boss" and how he just does as he's told. I think J is incredibly lazy (not work wise but just as a spouse/partner). To me, he seems to have been raised as if he were in the '50's....where the women took care of the house (D doesn't do that she obviously has nannies....but I'm sure she's the one in charge of them....hell, she's the one who brought them in during the lockdown) while he makes a living and pays for everything. To him, their marriage works and he's comfortable bc he doesnt have to do any work....thats all D. As much as I want him to leave that bozo looking troll, I truly, and as sad as it is, think he may never leave her. He cheats on her, she cheats on him and I feel like they have some kind of understanding bc EVERYONE knows their relationship isn't normal or loving as she tries to make it seem. Also, let's say J leaves her, who in their right mind would want to deal with D (bc of the kids) for the rest of their lives. J is damaged goods at this point and I feel terrible for him. He may want to leave but I think he's resigned himself to an unhappy life.
Sorry for the long ask. Just wanted to get your opinion on my dumbass conclusion lol.
I hope u have a wonderful day and fuck "The Winchesters" 😏
First off, what's with the negative self talk? It is not allowed on this blog, ever. There's no such thing as your conclusion being dumb as it's bases on deep thinking. It's clear from the many comments he's made over time that Jensen is extremely comfortable and delegates everything to everyone else. Elta is a control freak so I think she serves him the sense that he can go about doing his thing without being bothered while she handles everything. They both benefit from their business arangement marriage and that's undeniable. What's also undeniable, however, is the heavy contempt Elta brings to their relationshit which is bound to errode affection as well as the wellbeing of the person on the receiving end of her constant devaluing, Jensen has shown plenty of signs he is done with her bullshit. So, even though both greatly benefit from the dynamic they are in currently, their relationship is bound to crack. If it hasn't already, which is what I highly suspect. They may not divorce to save face but that doesn't mean they aren't separated.
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vermilionvector · 11 months ago
Aggretsuko SS4
That was a fucking rollercoaster.
(This post contains spoiler from Aggretsuko SS4 and bad words.)
This season, unlike the ones before, did a fantastic job combining plot points, reference and callbacks all together in the best, biggest single arc in the show. It could be turned into a movie and I wouldn't even notice. There are multiple factions and forces at work here, but they all shone in different arcs. While one is unfolding in the foreground, the others are slowly building up in the background.
Act 1 was about how awkward Retsuko and Haida's relationship was and how they overcame them, while Ton's resignation subplot sets up for Act 2. Act 2 was about Retsuko's redemption over Ton, while Haida got dragged into a fraud scheme because he wanted to become important. And finally Act 3 was about Retsuko and Haida's confrontation about the fraud and Haida's redemption.
Each act was executed so smoothly that I didn't feel like it was spliced from a separate arc and combined to be a season at all (e.g. SS2 Anai and Tadano subplot having no direct relationship whatsoever). Not to mention the romcom in each episode was superb. I also work in the accounting & auditing field, so every moment in this show is so relatable.
When Himuro restructured the Company and gave its staff a resignation program? Yes. I've seen a lot of this in many clients. It's a hard time after all.
When Haida introduced his tech to improve the workflow? Yes. This thing saved us from a lot of unnecessary work.
When Restuko noticed something was wrong about the ledger? Yes. I do this on a daily basis. To check if anything is wrong. (I even translated the account name out of curiosity because Netflix didn't translate it. Haida was manipulating sales and accounts receivable accounts.)
When Haida was committing the fraud?
Technical stuff here: Haida being so flustered about the surprise audit and falling for it was dumfounding at first. Financial audit always requires an appointment. You can't just walk in and says "Hey, give me your books." and be done with it. This shit needs preparation and a fuck ton of supporting data, files and document. Then everything came together when Haida learned that surprise financial audit was never a thing and rushed back to his room. He probably never had to deal with auditors directly. Sometimes the accounting manager does all the delegation. I imagine the auditors who have to work with Ton must be having a fucking nightmare because of his personality and how low-tech he is. So when Haida was promoted he had no idea how the politics outside of his core work were at all.
And while in certain occasions we need to dress formally like in the show (less the shades), normally we just wear our normal working clothes.
But who am I to talk about these boring stuff? This is just a plot device! The juicy part is their relationship!
Real talk. I never expected Haida to become an antagonist, not even in my wildest fantasy. His motivation was to become someone important, but in doing so losing his individuality along the way, becoming someone else he thought he ought to be, or rather, what he thought he ought to be. Blinded by that temptation he ignored all the goodwill and pursued the dark path. Thankfully with the combined effort of Restsuko and her friends he was able to redeem himself. But Haida being a misguided soul paved a way for some hilarious and exciting scenarios. We wouldn't have seen that dream-team Mission Impossible style heist in the last few episodes. Ton and Restuko working together is something I didn't know I wanted but very well deserved. In fact a lot of characters in this season was well fleshed out.
The snake lady Tsubone? We only knew her as an annoyance until we learned about her history with Ton.
The wolf guy Ookami? We only knew he was a handsome airhead until he gave some good advices to Retsuko.
The new buffalo boss Yagyu? We barely knew him until he took charge of the department and fucked everyone over (poor Kabae).
And not to mention returning characters from previous seasons. Tadano became Retsuko's channel's producer. Manaka continued to be Retsuko's karaoke buddy and Hyodo became a partner-in-crime. The last confrontation between Haida and Tadano was so intense. I thought Haida was going to win easily but nope Tadano owned him completely. The small scene in the end credit of the last episode showed that he went beyond his limit because he knew losing was not an option. Haida was losing his way and he would not allow anyone like that to continue a close relationship with Retchan. And the most noteworthy: the slap.
Seriously this season destroyed my expectations and transcended beyond the edge of the fucking universe (which I hoped Tadano will help us reach there soon.) The only nitpick was that there were too few songs for a character focused on death metal. With Haida out of the Company, possibilities are endless. No more are they bound to the premise of a corporate salarymen, the world is now the stage and the future is never promised. What will Haida do now that he's unemployed? What will Retsuko feel or how will she act to support him? WHERE IS THIS SUBPLOT ABOUT HAIDA BEING AN HEIR OF A RICH FAMILY COMING FROM? FENNEKO WHAT DO YOU KNOW? HOW WILL SEASON 5 BE UNFOLD?
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forever-rogue · a year ago
Hello Sunshine
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A/N: Hello! I’m here with a 7am shower idea that I couldn’t get out of my head. It’s just a little sweet and soft Frankie. Enjoy! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕
*Bold - Frankie ; Italics - Reader
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: none
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“Hey! What time did you want to meet up tomorrow for brunch?” you stared at the number you’d typed in and compared it to the one that the man you’d met the evening before had given you. You had been absolutely reluctant to go to the local bar’s speed dating evening before, but your best friend had convinced you to go. She was going to go as well, so you figured if you ended up suffering, she would likely too - solidarity in its finest form. Much to your pleasant surprise however, you ended up having a fun time...the multiple rounds of drinks probably didn’t hurt either. 
Marcus had been your last round for the evening, and he had been kind and charming; easy on the eyes and easy to make conversation with. He asked you questions and you were able to ask him ones back. Definitely a sharp turn from what you were expecting; and by the end of the night he’d offered you his number and asked you to for brunch on Sunday. You’d been...elated; it had been some time since anyone had actually managed to capture your eye.
Before talking yourself out of sending the message, you hit send and put your phone onto your nightstand. You weren’t too nervous in general, but there was something about sending that first message that always caused butterflies to erupt into your stomach. It wasn’t but a few minutes before your phone vibrated to signal a new message. Trying not to get too eager and excited, you reached for it and quickly opened the new text.
Who is this?
Your brow furrowed in confusion at the seemingly hasty denial of acknowledgment. It was no matter, you groaned at yourself, you probably should have included your name in the first place. No big deal, you quickly typed out your name and added, “we met at the bar last night? For the speed dating event?”
Your stomach flipped nervously as you wondered what he would say; hoping it was just a misunderstanding and he would realize exactly who you were. 
I didn’t go to any bars last night. I don’t know who you are.
Oh. Your throat constricted as you reached for the napkin with the phone and compared it again to the number you had texted. There was no way you’d mistaken any of the numbers. Sighing heavily, you slipped out of bed and edged towards your bathroom and tossed the offending object into the can. Things had seemed like they’d gone so well...you’d genuinely liked Marcus and thought the attraction and chemistry was there on both sides. Apparently you’d been made a fool once again. Heat flooded your face in embarrassment as you contemplated whether or not to text again. To hell with it, you decided, you might as well apologize if nothing else.
So sorry. The guy I met must have given me the wrong number. I hope I didn’t ruin your night. Sorry for wasting your time.
After that bit of failure, you decided you might as well get back into bed and watch a show until you fell asleep. You felt beyond embarrassed and just wanted to forget about the whole thing. Needless to say, it surprised you when your phone went off again.
No worries. Sorry if I was rude too. It’s happened to me before with a couple of girls. It  sucks. 
At this point, you found yourself smiling at the sentiment, and decided that one more little text wouldn’t hurt anything. 
Seriously! Why can’t someone just tell you if they’re not interested? It's so much easier. Either way - thanks for understanding and have a good evening. 
You too. Hope things look up soon for you.
His response had been instant almost as if he had been watching you type it all. Whoever this stranger was - and you weren’t even sure if it was a man or woman - they had turned out to be kinder than Marcus. But it didn’t do well to dwell on it; Marcus would get what he deserved and this stranger would get some good things. 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Frankie put his phone on the charging pad he kept next to his bed, turning it on silent before crawling under the covers. Catching a glance of himself in the mirror, he was surprised to see that he had a smile on his face. Not that was perpetually frowning or mad, but usually he wasn’t just smiling for no reason. 
Although he had a feeling he knew the exact reason as to why he was actually happy for once because of...you. The random stranger that texted him and sent a happy shiver up his spine. He wasn’t happy because of your little predicament, knowing the exact feeling of having been duped and given the wrong number several times. But the short conversation had been pleasant enough and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d hear from you again. 
Doubtful, he reminded himself, it was just a one off type deal and that was that. And yet...that didn’t stop him from quickly grabbing his phone again and saving your name and number as a contact. You know...just in case. 
Francisco Morales had sweet dreams throughout that night. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Frankie practically bounced into work the next morning, a smile on his face and spring in his step. So he seemed so out of normal form that his best friend and coworker, pointed it out to him and everyone. Frankie played it off like it was no big deal; in reality it wasn’t. You were just another stranger out in the world that flung into his orbit for a moment before leaving again. 
But that whole week felt different and somehow the world was a little brighter - filled with sunshine. Even if it wasn’t everlasting, he didn’t mind the feeling it gave him for the moment; the positive energy was nice for a change. 
Little did he know that across the city, you were existing in your own little world, going about your day to day in a similar manner. What a small world it was indeed. You had been incredibly tempted to look up his phone and see if you could find anything out about your mysterious stranger, a name, some sort of profile - anything  - but refrained. What if it was someone you ended up attracted? A beautiful woman or a good looking man that caused you to start all sorts of fantasies? No - you didn’t need all of that. You’d let it go or let whatever happened happen. 
Which likely was nothing. Right? Right. 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Imagine your surprise when you found yourself at home with leftover pizza and a bottle of wine, resigning yourself to a quiet Saturday night when your phone vibrated. Figuring it was probably just one of your friends, or some sort of useless notification, you picked up your phone and found your jaw dropping. This wasn’t seriously happening, was it? 
Hey stranger. Hope this Saturday is better than the last one. 
Maybe they had the wrong number...or something. But no - they acknowledged the fact that last weekend had been shit and called you stranger. This had to be intentional. Setting your phone down for a moment, you grabbed your glass of wine and sipped on it, trying not to let the excitement of a single text get you too excited. They had done what you’d dreamed about all week...why not indulge in it? If nothing else, it might be nice to have someone to text with on occasion. 
Hi stranger. This Saturday involves me, the couch, pizza, and wine. I guess I really can’t complain. Hope yours is a good one too!
As soon as you hit send, you wanted to ban your head against the wall; was it too much? Not enough? Did it even warrant a response? Now you were just overthrowing everything. Shit, fuck, damn. 
But you weren't able to wallow in misery for too long before your phone went off again. Huh.
Sounds pretty good. Can't complain either, just at home with a beer and a movie. Missing the pizza though. Maybe I'll order some.
Definitely recommended! I don't know if this is odd, but you know my name and I don't know yours...do you have a name, stranger?
Not weird at all! Maybe I should have started with that. Francisco - Frankie.
Well Francisco-Frankie, it's nice to meet you. What movie are you watching?
Nice to meet you, no- longer-complete-stranger. Die Hard. A classic.
Oof. I'm afraid it ends here. Hot take - Die Hard is...notthatgood.
It's been a good but short time…how can you not like Die Hard!? What could you be watching that's so much better?
The Office. A modern classic and clearly superior to anything you're picking if you think Die Hard is good.
Fun fact - I've never seen a single episode of the Office. And never plan on it. Tell me, mystery girl, what should I get on my pizza?
I now make it my plan to convince you to watch The Office. Pepperoni, jalapeños, and tomatoes. Regular crust, none of that thin crust bs.
Challenge accepted. An odd combination but I'll give it a try. Results tbd.
Already listening - I'm a fan of it. I'll let you get back to your movie and order your pizza. Have a good night Francisco-Frankie.
You too, mystery girl.
There was an undeniably giant grin on your face as you set your phone back down. Had this actually happened? Surely this was some sort of dream; a random stranger actually striking up a conversation? And seemingly enjoying it? Out of this world.
As you downed your glass and got ready to refill it your phone vibrated once again. This time you didn't even bother to let a moment pass before picking it back up and opening the notification.
Can I text you again sometime?
Yeah...I'd like that.
You just about melted into the couch, happier than you had been in a long time. And all from texts from a man you still hadn't met. Who knew if you would ever meet him? Either way, this Francisco aka Frankie had proven to be a welcome disturbance in your life.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
The next couple of weeks passed in the same blissful fashion. You'd go about your day with work and other responsibilities and obligations but you had your pocket companion with you. That's what you nicknamed Frankie anyways. 
What has started as some texting here and there soon turned into conversations throughout the days, slowly becoming more personal and introspective with each passing day. And despite still knowing what he looked like or anything...you thrived in it. You'd wondered if he'd looked you up - he hadn't for the same reasons as you - and that's why you got along so well. 
The two of you had a lot in common but still managed to have your differences. One thing that never failed to make you smile was what had turned into his version of a good morning text.
Hello Sunshine. 
Hi Fly Boy. 
Stay dry today, its supposed to be a pretty bad downpour. Talk later?
Of course. Be safe too.
The small sentiment was enough to send you reeling; it was funny how easily conversation flowed between the two of you. Like in some ways you'd always known each other, but still were finding out things constantly. You weren't sure where it would lead to...if anything but for now you appreciated your new found friend.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
I have a work party this weekend and it's formal. Do I go for an lbd or something colorful?
Depends - do you want people to approach or admire from the distance?
From the distance, so I can leave fairly quickly but people still know I was there.
Definitely LBD then.
My hero! Perfect idea!
»»————- ♡ ————-««
How do I get out of a camping trip this weekend?
Why would you try and get out of it? You said you loved camping.
I do but...just not feeling it this weekend.
Tell them you're feeling or that your new girlfriend wants to spend the weekend together.
New girlfriend? I wasn't aware I had one…
Its called a white lie Frankie. Use me as an excuse if you have to.
You're the best! A real lifesaver, sunshine.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Okay, here's a tough one. Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?
All three. But if only one - coffee.
How do you take it?
Black with a little bit of sugar.
That's kind of the vibe I got! But you're wrong - the best answer is coffee in the am, afternoon tea, and then sometimes a hot chocolate for dessert.
Let me guess - salted caramel hot chocolate? 
How did you know?! Alright, Fly Boy, you know me too well already.
Just a hunch, sunshine. Okay - favorite color?
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Do you think if I pretend to be dead I can leave work early?
Dramatic! I love it. How about a migraine? Last minute emergency?
Probably better. Migraine it is.
Just a thought. Beers with the guys tonight?
Yup. Girls night?
Yes! Talk tomorrow?
Of course.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Soooo I might have gotten myself into a predicament…
What happened?
Umm, I might have lied and told my friends that I started seeing someone…
Oh no.
Yeah...all because I couldn't admit that that guy had given me the wrong number. How do I explain?!
Maybe just don't say anything and then later say it died down or something? No need to drag it further.
You're right and I am an idiot. 
Nah, it happens to the best of us.
Hmm sure. Anyways, onto important things. Dogs or cats?
»»————- ♡ ————-««
If you could only have one type of food for the rest of your life, what would it be and why?
Hmm, that’s a hard one. I’m torn between Mexican (the good stuff of course) and Italian and sushi. You? 
That’s not a type of food, Francisco!
It totally is. There’s different varieties, it can count!
That’s a cheap way to answer the question, but I’ll accept it because you’re cute. 
You think I’m cute? And just how do you know? Do I have a stalker?
Nah, too much effort. Besides, I’m usually busy talking to you. It would be kind of obvious if I was, wouldn’t it? I just have a feeling. 
Very funny, sunshine. I’m positive it’s the other way around. 
You’re the stalker? What am I wearing right now?
You know what I meant!
Of course I did. I’m the smart one in this duo, don’t forget. 
You’re too much. Want to watch a movie tonight? We start at the same time? 
Yes! Anything but Die Hard or other shitty movies along those lines.
You’re killing me here. One day I will convince you to watch it with me.
I look forward to that - but not tonight. Name your top 3 ideas.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Over the weeks, Frankie became an everyday part of your life. The two of you texted back and forth throughout the day as time allowed. It was nice - comforting to have him there despite the fact that he could have been anyone in the world. Well, you knew he was local to you from his area code but otherwise...a mystery.
You wondered if you’d ever encountered him out in the real world before. It was a definite possibility, but you would never know. Not unless you somehow actually ended up meeting him in person. The idea of proposing such a notion hadn’t seemed far off, especially since your days were filled with each other and there were undeniably flirty texts and insinuations. The few times you’d actually gotten the nerve up to just ask him, something always seemed to come and keep you from doing it. Namely - nerves. 
What if you were reading all wrong into this? What if he really wanted nothing more than a friendship? What if texting was the extent of it all? 
Naturally, you’d know your answer if you’d just fucking ask him. But that seemed like a momentous and herculean task and you weren’t sure if you’d ever be up for it. Perhaps things would just...happen one day. Despite getting to know him, he was still just this enigmatic aura. For all you knew you might as well have been fighting a robot. 
When then...one random night, a Wednesday evening when you’d just walked in the door with fresh produce from the downtown farmer’s market, your phone name. Shifting the large bags in your arms, you managed to fish your phone out of your pocket and answer it without looking at who it was. 
“Hello?” you kicked the door shut behind you and shuffled into the kitchen, unceremoniously dumping the bags onto the counters. At first you didn’t hear anything on the other end of the line besides some shuffling, but then eventually you heard a distant voice say something indiscernible. In confusion, you pulled the phone out from between your ear and shoulder and glanced at the contact. The name was enough to have your breath catch in your throat as you realized that your mysterious Frankie on the other end. He’d never called before...perhaps it had been a mistake? Even if it was, you were going to take full advantage of it, “Frankie? Hello? Come on Fly Boy, it’s me. If you can hear me, let me know.”
It was a few more seconds of shuffling and almost static like noise before you were positive you heard a quiet fuck. But then, in a moment that made your heart almost stop, you heard him, loud and clear, “h-hi….sunshine?”
“Hi Frankie,” you repeated as you felt your heart melt and legs turn to jelly, “I’m going to guess this wasn’t an intended call?”
“Umm, shit no,” he admitted with what you could only describe as a nervous laugh, “accidental pocket dial.”
“It’s 2021 and you’re pocket dialing people?” you snorted with laughter as you grabbed your earbuds to sync up the bluetooth so you could talk to him while putting away all of the fresh fruits and veggies you had acquired, “that’s such an old person thing, Frankie! What are you 50?”
“It’s not that weird,” he insisted with an indignant scoff as you giggled, “it can happen easily if you don’t lock your phone when you put it away and yeah...here we are. And for the record I am nowhere near 50! I am only 36.”
“Oof,” you opened the fridge and popped the veggies into the drawer, “I’m afraid that things end here, Grandpa.” 
“Very funny! How old are you then, huh? Oh my God - please don’t tell me I’ve been talking to and flirting with a teenager,” for a moment he sounded genuinely nervous as you almost doubled over in laughter at his panic. The fact that he had admitted to flirting was lost on you in your amusement he was so worried that he didn’t even notice the gaff, “sunshine!”
“I’m almost 30,” you reassured him and he instantly sighed in relief on the other end, “don’t worry. Besides, I told you I met the man I thought I was texting at a bar - at least I would have been 21.” 
“That still would have been weird,” he admitted as you made a small sound of agreement, “this is better.”
“Ha! Thanks for the sentiment,” you  rinsed and crunched on a carrot before hopping onto the counter to get comfortable. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should say your next words or not...but you decided to just do it, “this is...nice. I like hearing your voice. Makes you more real.”
“I like it too,” he agreed softly, a tinge of pink rising up in his cheeks, despite the fact that you couldn’t see it, “you sound like I thought.”
“Oh? Like an annoying twelve-year-old boy?” 
“Okay, okay, dramatic much?” he snorted, “just accept the compliment!”
“Fine,” you huffed, being very overdramatic indeed, “what are you up to tonight, Frankie? Want to cook together?”
“I’m yours - free, I mean free,” he corrected himself as you relished in his little mess up, “I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook. I’m a better baker.”
“Ooh, excellent,” you slid off the counter in excitement, “how about this - we’ll make something simple for dinner - I’ll walk you through it step by step, and then you’re in charge of dessert. Deal?”
“Deal,” Frankie felt a rush of excitement surge through him as he stepped into his kitchen and reached for his apron - the same one that Santi always made fun of him for, “what’s on the menu?”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
And just like that texts turned into texts and phone calls. There was something so thrilling, like a huge surge of electricity shot down your spine and throughout your body every time you saw his name up pop or heard the sound of his voice. Frankie was...slowly turning into your constant companion and if you were being honest with yourself he was everything you had had ever wanted. 
And oh - how scary it was to be falling for a man you still hadn't met in person. Slowly, surely it would happen. Gods, you wanted it to happen so desperately. But you were painfully shy when it came to the idea of asking him out and little did you know, he was feeling exactly the same way. Frankie wanted nothing more than to finally ask you on a proper date, to spend all those times laughing with you in person. But he just...continually talked himself out of it.
He was just so shy, so nervous and he thought it would be impossible that someone like you would actually go for a guy like him. He was just...fly boy and you were his Sunshine. Frankie had given you the name early on, deciding that it was appropriate because you brought a little bit of sunshine into his life every day. It had almost brought you to tears - not that you'd admit that to anyone - not yet anyway. His nickname was simple - he was a former military pilot and now a part time ‘whenever he got the chance pilot’ - Fly Boy. It was perfect and he adored it as much as you.
And yet neither of you, pining silly fools had been able to make that final move. One day, you both reminded yourself constantly, one day.
And one day turned out to be sooner than either of you expected...
"Mmhmm," you murmured into the phone as you scoured the bookshelves of your local little bookstore. You had a rare afternoon off and to treat yourself to a nice coffee and searching for a new read. You'd fallen out of reading regularly and had made it a point to get back into it, aiming for a book month. Naturally, your friend had called you at that exact time, "of course pizza is always a good choice."
Frankie hummed under his breath as he walked through the aisles looking for the book you had recommended to him. He hadn’t thought much about the woman he saw a few rows over with a coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. He did note, however, that the tone of her voice was sweet - not that he was trying to listen in on her conversation. 
“Yes it is!” you laughed into the phone, trying to keep it down when you noticed the man in your peripheral vision and aimed to keep from disturbing him, “pizza is good for whenever you don't know what to make. And you know the best - pepperoni, jalapenos, and tomatoes. No contest.”
Despite not trying to listen in to your conversation, as soon as he heard you describe pizza, his perked up and immediately his heart started pounding. A nervous rush of energy flowed through him as he tried to get a better look at you without making it obvious. Holy shit - was this actually it? Was he about to meet his Sunshine?
“I even told Frankie,” you insisted with a small smile as you took a sip of your coffee, “he liked it too. Yes...of course I’m still talking to him...I-I really like him. I hope that one day I can meet him. I keep wanting to ask and then I get so nervous and talk myself out of it. He’s just...lovely.”
This definitely couldn’t be a coincidence, right? The particular type of pizza, Frankie, wanting to meet - this had to be you. And the more he listened, despite his initial efforts, he couldn’t help but zone in on you. And now, hearing your voice unfiltered and unaltered through the phone, he knew it was you. He just stopped in his tracks as he watched you, a silly little smile on his face as he realized that somehow the universe had decided to throw him a bone. 
“Mhmm,” you murmured into the phone, “of course. I’ll talk to you later!”
Ending the call, you shoved your phone into your pocket and reached for one of the books that had piqued your interest. Sliding it out and reading over the back, you quickly got lost in your thoughts until you heard a throat clear behind you. Assuming you were in someone’s way, you shuffled to the side without glancing at who it was. But then you heard it - quiet and shy but clear, “Sunshine?”
At the sound of the nickname you’d been given by only one person throughout your entire life, your heart fluttered wildly in your chest as your body froze. Surely..surely this couldn’t be happening…
Turning around, slowly, painfully slowly, you found yourself staring at a face both brand new and immediately familiar. You’d never seen him before, but instantly it was like you knew him, all of him. In some ways you supposed, you did. 
“F-Frankie?” almost getting choked up, your voice was barely above a whisper as the handsome man in front of you slowly nodded. A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as his whole features lit up with excitement. His brown eyes were soft and crinkled in the corners as his grew grin and a one singular dimple appeared. You weren’t really sure what you had pictured when you’d thought about your mysterious friend, but somehow this was right on the mark. You blinked a few times, trying to hold back your tears of sheer excitement, “you’re real after all!”
And then he laughed. A beautiful, glorious sound that caused a surge of warmth to rush through your entire body. He really was just as lovely as you’d dreamed. 
“Did you really think you were talking to a robot this whole time?” he asked as you flushed with warmth but stuck your tongue at him, “I can’t believe it’s really you. After all these months...finally. I’ve been wanting to ask you for so long but I didn’t think…”
“Me too,” you agreed, “me too. Small world, huh?”
“I was just looking for the book you recommended last night,” he admitted as you practically glowed with excitement. Holding up a finger, you turned around and quickly found the book in question and displayed it for him, “I didn’t think I’d find the book and the woman I’ve been talking to for months.”
“How did you know it was me?” you asked as you walked over to him and he offered up a sheepish grin.
“The pizza.”
“The pizza!” you snorted with laughter, “I should have known. Too obvious.”
“I like to think that everything happens for a reason,” he tried to take the book from your hands but you just shook your head, “what?”
“This is going to be from me to you,” you insisted as a tinge of pink welled up in his cheeks, “a souvenir from the day we met!”
“I’ll treasure it forever,” he promised and you could tell he meant it, “what are you doing tonight? Now?”
“I dunno,” you feigned innocence, “I was planning on going home to cook and talk to this guy I’ve been falling for for months, but that seems a little weird now.” 
“Will you let me take you to dinner -  a date? A real date?” he asked as you beamed at him and nodded. How could you ever say no. 
“Only if you take me to that Italian place you told me about!”
“Whatever you want, Sunshine,” he promised as he reached for your hand and gently laced your fingers together. It felt so easy, so effortless, and you didn’t even have to think about - natural. 
“You,” you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing his cheek, “just you, Frankie.”
“Sweet Sunshine.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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omg-just-peachy · a year ago
Mmm. I wish you would write a fic where all the Avengers realize Tony is hyper competent and get a mild boner for him.
everyone has a tiny competency kink for tony stark, it's tRU.
anyway. a 2012 era team as family ficlet with a tiny stevetony moment! who is she!
"Oh my god," Clint all but moans as he sips the mug of coffee Tony handed him as soon as he entered the kitchen. "What is in this?" He takes another sip and his eyes fall shut, appreciating the caffeine and the combination of flavors and the sheer fact that he didn't have to make it himself.
"Good, right?" Tony asks, sounding pleased with himself.
"Mmmhm," Clint agrees. "Starbucks should hire you. No," he corrects himself. "You should buy Starbucks, and make this for everyone. Call it: Starkbucks!" Clint exclaims excitedly.
Tony grins. "That might be a bit much, Katniss, but I'm glad you like it," he says. "Besides, it's a secret recipe, so no sharing with the public, let alone rabid Starbucks customers."
Clint looks like he's about to argue, but instead, he just takes another sip of the coffee, apparently resigned not to ask again at this particular moment, and Tony walks away, whistling happily as Clint gives another groan of appreciation.
"Did you still need me?" Bruce asks, walking into the lab with his customary cup of tea in hand. He surveys Tony's work space, though, and Tony can tell he already knows the answer.
"I think I got it," Tony tells him. "Sorry," he adds quickly. He doesn't want Bruce to think he doesn't want the company or the expertise, but the mods he'd wanted to make to Natasha's suit ended up being easier than he thought, and once he got started, well, he was on a roll.
Bruce laughs, the sound light and fond in the quiet of the workshop. "You don't have to apologize," he tells him, and Tony can tell he means it. "I'm impressed, that's all. You're really great at this stuff, you know?"
Tony shakes his head. "Yeah? Some would say I don't play well with others," he explains. "And they wouldn't necessarily be wrong."
Bruce tuts. "Well, they don't know you very well then, do they? Wouldn't be the team we are without you."
Tony frowns down at his workbench, awash in sudden emotion until Bruce comes over and nudges him with his elbow. "Come on, I'm sure there's something else you can show me down here, hm?"
Tony nods, leading him over to another table, another project, one he really could use another set of eyes on.
Tony's winded, but he can see the end in sight, and as he dodges Nat's final swing, rolling just to her left as she dives to the right, he knows he's won. He swipes an elbow over his forehead, exhausted and in desperate need of a shower, but just a little proud of himself, too. He's gotten used to getting his ass kicked by their resident assassin, and it feels good to have beaten her for once.
"Wow," Nat says, clearly impressed. She can barely repress the smirk that threatens to grow into a full-fledged smile. "I didn't think you had it in you, Stark," she says, extending a hand and helping Tony to his feet.
"That's me," Tony says, still out of breath, "full of surprises."
"What is it you said to Steve that time?" Nat pretends to think. "You're pretty spry, for an older fellow." This time, there's no stopping her smile, and Tony laughs.
"Okay, I walked right into that," he admits.
"Well, can't let you win everything," Nat teases. "Don't let anyone know you beat me, alright? I have a certain image."
"Can't make that promise," Tony tells her, because honestly, he already knows he's going to tell everyone about this.
"I guess you deserve that," she agrees, which is as close to a good job as he was ever going to get. Tony decides to take it. He grins the whole elevator ride up to the kitchen.
It's movie night again, and no one can remember whose turn it is to pick what they watch. Nat and Clint are arguing between themselves, both insisting it's their turn, Steve looks like he's about to give up and go sketch in another room altogether, and Thor is explaining loudly why it should be Tony's turn again.
"Friend Stark picks the best films," Thor declares. "He introduced us to the lovely space epic that time. And the one about the boy witch..."
"Harry Potter," Tony chuckles. "He's a wizard."
"The boy wizard, then," Thor corrects. "I am sure whatever he picks will be well worth our time."
"Can't argue with a god," Tony points out.
"Watch me," Natasha says, a glint in her eye.
"Okay, well you shouldn't, how about that?" Tony says.
"You're just saying that because he thinks you should pick," Clint jumps in.
"Obviously." Tony rolls his eyes. "But Thor has great taste."
"It's you who has excellent taste," Thor booms. "I think we should trust him again tonight."
"I agree," Bruce pipes up, if only just to end the argument. "Let Tony pick."
Natasha and Clint sigh in unison, accepting defeat as Tony explains the many merits of The Lord of the Rings.
"You made this?" Steve asks, emotion clear in his voice. Tony watches as he looks down at the bowl in front of him. It's a stew he'd mentioned his mom making, and Tony had done everything he could to recreate it.
"Well, I tried," Tony tells him. He feels like his heart's going to beat right out of his chest. If this doesn't say I love you he isn't sure what would. Maybe it was too forward, too much all at once, but Steve had seemed so... lonely recently, it was the least Tony could do, surely.
Steve gives him a smile, a real one — the first in days. Tony doesn't know exactly when he'd learned the difference versions of Steve Rogers' smiles, only that he does, and he hates the small, forced ones everyone else gets. He wants Steve to be happy, in general, but also, selfishly, with him. He wants to show Steve that he's not alone, would never have to be alone as long as Tony was there and Steve would have him.
So, he'd spent far more time in the kitchen than he ever had, perfecting a recipe he couldn't even be sure would match the one Steve had told him about.
Steve takes a tentative sip, careful of the temperature, and Tony can see his eyes go from bright and appreciative to glassy, filling with tears Tony knows he won't let fall.
"Good?" Tony asks quietly.
"Tony," Steve says, just as softly. "It's perfect. You didn't have to do this, you know." He reaches across the table and lays his hand over Tony's, big and warm and perfect, and Tony feels his breath catch.
"I know," tony tells him. "I wanted to, though. You've seemed so... lost, lately. I hope you know you have people here who care about you. I wanted to... show you that, I guess."
I care about you, Tony's brain supplies. Too much, probably.
Steve blinks a few times in quick succession, but a tear manages to escape him, regardless of his efforts. He swats it away with the back of his hand, smiling bashfully over at Tony.
"Thank you, Tony. It's perfect, and I hope you know I ... care about you, too," Steve says. He squeezes Tony's hand, letting the gesture speak for itself as they sit in the quiet kitchen, the smell of home all around them.
tell me the fic you wish i would write!
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readerstories · a year ago
Tie Reveal - Aaron Hotchner x male!reader
What is it with me and turning short and sweet ideas into long one shots? Yeah so anyway, enjoy (AO3)
Warnings/tags: relationship rreveal, fluff and humor, light angst
Wordcount: 2837
Summary: You come into work wearing the wrong tie
You hate rushing in the morning, preferring to start your day in a calm and relaxed manner. That’s not on the table for today however, as you and Aaron both rush to get dressed.
“You’re going to be late.” You say as you button your shirt, glad you had had the forethought to grab on from your to go bag, as not wake any suspicion or teasing from the team. Aaron glances at the clock as he puts his shoes on.
“It’s still before the time you usually get in.”
“Yeah, but not for you.” You pick up your ties from the floor, giving Aaron’s to him. You’re quick to put yours on, Aaron mirroring you.
“I’ll just say that I got a flat tire.” You nod, stealing a quick kiss from him as you grab your jacket on the way out.
“Okay, see you at work!” You’re out the door before he can respond, making your way quickly down, not even bothering with the elevator in your haste to get to your car.
You make it to work on time, only a few minutes later than usual, but that can be blamed on the fresh coffee in your hand from the coffee shop down the street.
As the elevator plings to announce your arrival on the right floor, you’re met by Garcia, Reid, and Morgan standing right outside, groaning as they spot you.
“Well, good morning to you guys too.” You say with a confused look at them all as you step out.
“It’s not you, we’re just just waiting for Hotch.” Garcia explains and you raise a brow, faking confusion.
“Hotch? Isn’t he here already?”
“No, so I got worried, so I checked his phone and it was pinging on the road just outside his apartment building, which is weird cause he’s normally the first one here-”
“Are you even supposed or allowed to do that outside of a case or emergency?” Garcia hesitates, and you huff and shake your head at them.
“Well, I’m going to go and start work, like you all should.” You leave the team as they go back to watching the elevator doors, quickly shooting off a text to Hotch to let him know that the flat tire excuse won’t work.
A few minutes later you hear a happy Garcia shout Hotch’s name and seconds later he comes in through the glass doors, followed by Garcia, Reid, and Morgan.
“Guys, I’m fine, I just slept trough my alarm this morning.”
“But you never do that.” Garcia responds, hot on his heels.
“So what’s her name?” Morgan quips, Hotch stops in his tracks to give him a withering glare before resuming his path to his office.
“Ohhh, lover boy!” Morgan teases at Hotch’s back.
“Remember we got a briefing in ten minutes sir!” Garcia yells after him before the door to his office is closed behind him. You hide your smile behind your coffee, trying not to bring much attention to yourself. Garcia leaves to prepare a few last things for the briefing, but Reid and Morgan linger next to your desk, still standing.
“Do you really think that’s what made him late?” Reid asks.
“Come on, that man never misses anything and sleeps light, and Jack is away for a week, so what else could it be?” Morgan glances at you. “What do you think?” You take a sip of your coffee, pretending to think.
“Maybe, or maybe he is telling the truth. The man is only human, and with the amount of hours he spends in the office he might actually just have slept trough his alarm.” Morgan nods, but doesn’t seem convinced.
You all make your way into the meeting room. You sit down in the chair next to a standing Garcia as you often do, Reid, Morgan, JJ, and Rossi joining you around the table, Hotch striding in as usual a few minutes later.
“Garcia, please begin.” He stays on his feet, ready to go as soon as he can.
“Look to the screen my mighty crime fighters, because today you’re goi-”
“You’ve switched ties.” Reid cuts Garcia off mid-sentence, making everyone look at Reid, wondering what in the world he is talking about. He points at you.
“You and Hotch, you’ve switched.” Both of you look down, then at each other as the team looks between the two of you. Shit, he’s right.
“When you came in I saw your tie was the same as Hotch wore yesterday, a grey tie with a Gucci pattern. I just thought you had bought the same one, since you both have a similar taste in ties, but Hotch got the same as you wore yesterday, a grey tie with stripes, which still has the small coffee stain from when you spilled some yesterday.” Hotch frowns as lifts up the tie to inspect it, and yes, there’s indeed a small, barely noticeable speck of coffee about halfway up the tie he is wearing. No one says anything for a few seconds, you yourself have turned into a statue, neutral expression on your face. Hotch is much the same, everyone else looking between you two. Garcia is the first one to break the silence, squealing with glee.
“Omg, omg, guys!” She yells as she hugs you from behind, the angle a little awkward with how she leaning over your sitting form. You’re not stone anymore, but you don’t return the hug before she lets you go. Morgan and JJ are both grinning, Rossi is looking at Hotch with smile, Reid is trying not to do the same at you while you glare daggers at him. Hotch sighs.
“Garcia...” His tone is chastising, reminding everyone that there is something else to focus on, which seems to snap her back to work mode. Sort of.
“Right, right, case, lets just brush past that revelation about two of my best friends, so, uhhh, where were we? Or right! Today you’re going to-” She begins to explain the case, both you and Hotch get a few more glances before everyone turns their focus on the case.
On the jet you think you’re in the clear, until Rossie settles in the seat next to you. Which is odd, because you’re the only two on the jet so far, and he usually doesn’t sit next to you.
“So you and Hotch huh?” You pretend to read over the case files in front of you, and Rossi chuckles.
“You know, none of us expected a thing. Well done on hiding it from a group of profilers I must say.”
“Rossi, there’s nothing-”
“There’s nothing?” He’s grinning, clearly teasing as he looks down to your tie and taps it with a finger. “Something tells me otherwise.” You sigh, but are saved from answering by the rest of the team joining you on the jet. Everybody buckles down for take off, and not long after you’re in the air, and then all the attention is on the case.
For a little while at least.
You can tell they want to talk about it, but the case keeps everyone occupied, so there’s nothing else before JJ comes back from the hotel with the room cards. Everyone is spread around doing different tasks, so she finds you alone in the conference room the team had been given. You’re reading trough the victims files for some more specifics on victimology when she places a keycard on the table in front of you. You look up, startled as you hadn’t even noticed her entering the room.
“You’ve seen Hotch?” She asks and you furrow a brow.
“I think he’s talking to the police chief in his office, why?”
“His key card, but you can just give it to him when you see him, since you’re sharing a room.”
“I thought we were past the budget cuts-”
“Oh we are, but Garcia made some changes to the booking after this mornings briefing sooo....” JJ grins and you sigh, rubbing your forehead. There’s silence and no movement for a few seconds, then there’s a hand on your shoulder.
“Hey, you know we will always support you guys right?” You sigh heavily, resting your own hand on top of JJ’s, looking up at her.
“I know, it’s just... It wasn’t revealed in the best way.” She grimaces.
“Yeah.” She looks uncertain how to respond, but seems to go for light, which you are grateful for. “But I’m surprised none of us caught on until then, it has been going on for at least a couple of months right?” You try to hide your grin as you pretend to go back to reading the files.
“Well, I’m not a ‘kiss and tell’ kinda guy, but it’s a bit more than a couple months.” JJ laughs and pats your shoulder before leaving the room.
You find Hotch not long after, and when you tell him the whole situation around the shared room, he sighs too, but mostly in a ‘oh what can you do’ kind of way, seemingly mostly resigned to everyone knowing now.
Even with sharing the same room and not needing to hide anything from the team, you go back to the hotel without him. The man is a workaholic, and you want a shower and some sleep, but he promises to join you soon. Instead you end up sharing a car with Reid and Morgan, neither of which say anything in the car, but while you’re waiting for the elevator, all bets seems to be off.
“So, you and the bossman huh?” Morgan teases with a grin as you do your best to ignore him, watching the numbers on the display tick down. The elevator door opens and you quickly step inside, hoping to leave them both behind. But alas, no such luck, as they step inside and Reid presses the button to the floor above yours.
“You know, work place relationships aren’t actually that uncommon. Did you know-” Here you tune him out, once again watching the numbers off the elevator. Normally you like when Reid goes on a tangent, but now, not so much.
“Reid, I will strangle you with my tie to shut you up if I have to.”
“Don’t you mean Hotch’s tie?” The grin on his face is shit-eating, which is rare from Spencer, and Morgan laughs loudly. The combination of it makes you curse under your breath as the doors finally open to your floor. You don’t bother saying goodbye, just going straight down the hall towards the door with your room number on it. Sliding the keycard in, it opens with a click. You drop your bag on the floor as soon as the door shuts behind you, and you switch on the lights.
You can’t help it.
You laugh as you take in the big room in front of you.
Or rather, the suite.
The honeymoon suite by the looks of it. Red and white decor, candles, big bed, nicely decorated with towels shaped like a heart, and some champagne in an ice-bucket on the desk in the room. There’s a small white card right next to the champagne, which you quickly read. ‘Have fun ;) -G’. You snort at it, that woman is a menace. (But also very nice, but you do shoot her text to warn her that she should sleep with one eye open. The only response you get is a winking emoji).
A surprisingly short time later you hear the door to the suite unlock, alerting you to Aaron’s arrival where you just stepped out of the shower. He calls your name in a questioning tone, you’re quick to respond as you wrap a towel around your mostly dry form.
“In here, one sec.” You step out of the bathroom, Aaron’s attention going straight to you before pointedly looking around the room. You lean on the door frame of the bathroom.
“Garcia.” You offer as an explanation.
“Ah.” He accepts, looking around once more. “This is going to be a fun expense report.” You snort at that, pushing yourself of the door frame and walking over to him. Putting your arms around his neck, you pull him close for a kiss.
“Certainly, but let us enjoy it for now, I’m sure Garcia has an explanation locked and ready for the report when we need it.” Aaron tries not to smile at that, but is halfway to failing when you catch his lips in a kiss.
The next time your relationship is brought up is on the jet back when the case ends well a few days later. Everyone have found their way to pass the time as usual. Reid and Rossi are playing chess in the one of two seaters, Morgan is half asleep, JJ is typing away on her phone next to him, across from them in the aisle seat is Hotch who has started on more paper work already, and you’re laying down on the couch across from them reading a book.
Everybody is in their own little bubble, that’s until Rossi is standing in the aisle and clearing his throat. Everyone looks at him, even Derek who JJ jostles awake with an elbow. Rossi got a bottle of expensive looking whiskey in one hand, several glasses in the other.
“I believe a little celebration is in order.” He starts handing out glasses, you sit up and close your book as you accept yours, just as Garcia pops up on the screen over the couch.
“What for?” You ask, genuinely curious, giving Garcia a look trough the screen, a very grinning and happy looking Garcia.
“Well, the case went well, we saved several people, and ah yes, your not so secret relationship anymore.”
“Rossi-” You and Hotch try to say something at the same time, but Rossi doesn’t let either of you speak another word.
“Oh no no no, neither of you get to Rossi me. Just shut up and listen okay?” He pours a hefty helping of whiskey in everyone’s glass as he speaks, even Garcia got a glass back home somehow, no doubt filled with something similar.
“We just want you both to know that we are very happy for you, both of you. And though the way us knowing came about wasn’t ideal, we will always support and be there for you.” You and Hotch look around at your team, noting the happy faces watching you before making brief eye contact.
“I want you all to know that nothing in this team changes with this, we’re still going to work together and remain professional while on the clock. There will be no preferential treatment here.”
“What he said.” You incline your head towards Hotch as you look around the jet once more.
“Aaron, we know that. Like I said, we just want you both to be happy.” Rossi says, soft smile on his face. You raise your glass, trying to pretend that the slight sting you can feel in your eyes is just tiredness.
“Cheers to that.” Everyone joins in, clinking their glasses together in loud celebration and happy voices, Garcia cheering with her glass against the camera lens back home. Everyone takes a sip of the whiskey, several mentioning the smooth burn of it.
“So, how long have you two love birds been together?” Morgan eyes flicker between you and Aaron.
“See, that right there Morgan is the million dollar question.” Rossi points between you both. “Come on, out with it.” You grin, trying and failing to hide your grin behind taking another sip of the whiskey, Aaron doing the same.
“Do you want to tell them or should I?” You ask, getting up to lean on the chair Aaron is sitting in. He looks up at you, taking your hand and placing it on his shoulder.
“I think you should.”
“Okay.” You say with a shrug, looking at all of the team before settling your gaze on Spencer. “Remember the strangulation serial killer we caught in LA earlier this year?”
“We caught him and finished that case 6 months, 11 days, and 9 hours ago.” Spencer helpfully supplies.
Then it dawns on them all what that means.
Yells of surprise from everyone, and this time neither you or Aaron try to hide your matching grins. Rossi is laughing loudly while slapping his knee, Reid seems to have lost his composure, mumbling that he should have seen something sooner, Garcia is speechless for perhaps the first time since you have known her, Morgan looks frozen in shock, and JJ is trying to hide her laughter behind her hand.
“6 months? How even?!” Morgan exclaims. You shrug, your grin shit-eating by now.
“What can I say, we’re good profilers and now how to hide our tells.” You glance at Aaron and squeezes his shoulder, who in return brings your hand to his lips for a brief kiss on your knuckles. Garcia squeals from her screen, gushing over how cute the two of you are as you smile and laugh in response.
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