#yes it’s technically a continuation of Nine but it can be read alone!
Note
I have a feeling Poe loves having his ear lobes sucked and nibbled on.
Ten, Eleven, Twelve [Poe Dameron x Fem!Reader]
Word Count: 4.2k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Explicit.
Summary: You hooked up with Poe last night and now you're late to your 10am call time... but you've got time for a few more rounds, right?
You don't wake up with a harsh alarm like most mornings, jolted into consciousness with aggressive buzzing and beeping... no this morning, on this glorious morning, you are roused gradually awake by something like a combination of sunlight through your bunk window and Poe's body heat, working together to warm your internal temperature just slightly too high for your body to comfortably sleep through.
But you don't move. Because Poe is exactly as you saw him last, laying naked, on you and in you- his face tucked lovingly in the crook of your neck. You strain your eyes to get a hint of his sleeping frown. It's not a dissatisfied look he wears, it’s just... relaxed. He looks ten years younger like this, his usual furrowed smoldering brow is smooth and you hope a good dream is playing somewhere in his pretty head. You would turn your head to see more of his pouting slack face but you don't want to wake him.
He's breathing so deeply, so slowly. At the top of each inhale, air catches somewhere in his lovely nose, making the faintest most endearing tiny snore. He's got his arms wrapped up under yours, hands cradling the back of your head under your pillow. You smile to yourself, this is how he usually sleeps by himself in the bottom bunk. On his stomach, arms under his pillow. His stomach expands with each slow breath, pushing into your abdomen, and despite how heavy he is and how warm the morning is getting... despite the ache in your inner thighs at being spread open for an ungodly measure of time, you've never felt more comfortable.
You almost will yourself to fall back asleep.... But the light from your window is blaring on your eyes too vibrantly through your closed lids, and then it hits you- your knifing 10am call time. Judging by the light, that ship has sailed and you're a little miffed as to why no one bothered to come get the two of you. You grumble and shift slightly, now feeling the ache in your arms, in your neck... all over. Maker you haven't been this sore since you were a recruit going through primary training.
You should get up. You really really should. But... ugh, Maker look at him. He's so tired and he took such astounding care of you last night. And all his sleepy self is doing is using your body like a pillow. If no one has come for you, couldn't you just lie here? Would that really be so bad?
Everyone was celebrating last night, maybe the entire base decided to have a lazy hangover day... unlikely. But hey, weirder things have happened on this base.
Fuck the bright light and the kriffing call time, you’re going back to sleep and meeting Poe on the other side of your respective dreams. You’re scrunching your eyes against the light when he "mmmmm"s into your neck and points his toes in a stretch, the action arches his hips into yours where Maker... he's hard in you. How did you not feel that as soon as you woke up? (the ten orgasms might have something to do with that- your latent nerves taking a fucking vacation after all that attention.)
Poe’s embrace tightens on you and he plants a warm sleepy kiss on your neck. His stubble tickles and you squirm a bit, dragging your nails up and down his wide warm back. Maker, did you actually DIE yesterday in battle and go to heaven?
"Morning, Ten." He bites your neck affectionately.
"Oh is that right? Morning, Hoe. I mean, Poe."
"Mmmm, Don't make me tickle you again." His voice is deep and rough and he demonstrates just how serious he is by moving his prickly chin back and forth on the softest part of your neck.
You whine and attempt to push his head and tickling chin away from you, but, Maker, you have zero strength this morning, the muscles in your forearms are protesting your escape attempt. Are your arms sore from gripping the bedsheets all night? Maker, you're going to be useless today.
He presses his hips more presently into yours and your hips rise to chase the sensation at the same time your head is trying to turn away from his hot tickling breath and whatever-the-fuck-o-clock shadow he's got growing on his stupidly handsome face.
"Did I really sleep in you all night, pretty girl?" He's not trying to tickle you anymore, his hips are moving as lazy as the day and his teasing has given way to hot breaths and licking bites on your neck. Much more pleasant.
You're still so sore, but he feels divine, and in a way the slow rubbing of his cock inside you feels like a massage to your overused pussy.
"Maker Dameron," you mmmm and squeeze his plump butt flexing under your fingers as he slowly fucks into you.
"You always this horny in the mornings?"
"mmmhmmm," His teeth scrape along your clavicle, "why do you think I make you go and get caf for me first thing?"
"What?!"
Poe chuckles into your neck before rolling his hips in a particularly deep fashion. Fuck.
"You heard me."
"Are you saying you-"
"Yes, Nine."
"Not every morning?"
He kisses your cheek before putting his forehead on yours, he gently removes his hands from under the pillow and plants them on either side of your head and just nods against your forehead. Maker, those eyes. Beautiful in the sparkling darkness, warm and loving in the midday light.
“Every morning since you moved in.” He punctuates his words with the rolling of his hips, his smile growing wider as the sentence grows longer.
You moan at the uptick in pace.
"Fuck! That's mmmm, that's why you're so happy when I come back with the caf."
"Mmmhmmm" He kisses your parted panting mouth. Maker his lips are so warm. "That, and getting to see your pretty face." He nuzzles his nose against yours and grinds up into you with a deep moan. "Fuck, baby. You'e so wet. Didn't let a bit drip out of you, did I?"
You whine under him as he crushes his lips on yours again. He's not wrong. You can hear how sloppy you are, his demanding hardness gliding easily through the hot molten center of you.
"You gunna come for me again, sweetheart? Hmm?" He's not mocking or goading, his face is earnest and raw and still retains the unbothered brow of his resting expression. Fuck, you love him.
"One condition."
"Anything, baby." he whispers against your lips, hips scooting deeply into you at the most perfect pace as your cunt clenches as best it can with the wrung out feeling you still have in every part of your body.
"mmmm, Poe uhhhhh, y-You're doing the caf runs from now on."
"Deal, baby, deal."
Maker you could've probably bargained anything in that moment and he would have said yes. True to your side of the agreement you bear down on him, your torso shooting up the small distance between you, clinging to every bare piece of him you can reach when you clench and cum on him. Fucking eleven.
Poe’s forehead is on yours again. Eyes clamped shut as he shakes and moans, flexing and spilling inside your already overfilled cunt.
“Oh shit, baby. Ohhh, fuck.”
Theres a sheen of sweat on his prickly upper lip that you taste when he presses his panting lips to yours.
He sinks back onto you, pinning you once again under his comforting weight. Breaths slowing as you kiss his musky, curly scalp.
“Fuck. We gotta open a window or something.” He laughs and blows a cool stream of air onto your sweaty chest.
“That’s nice. Why don’t you do that— open the window? And get us some caf while you’re up.”
“Mmmm, five more minutes.” He’s back to slumping on you and kissing your neck lazily.
As much as you love this, this new thrilling intimacy, you need water and a shower and caf. Desperately need caf. Poe knows how much you need it, you’re sure, but he’s playing with your hair and kissing your shoulder…. maker, is he eversatiated?
“Poe, you gotta get up. Please. And find out what happened to our call time.”
Poe's head shoots up out of its lazy position and he looks to the window and back to you with confusion.
“Its gotta be past midday.”
“Exactly!” You pat his shoulders, “Go. Go see what’s up.”
“Mmmm, but you’re so soft and you feel so good, baby. 5 more minutes. “ He sinks back into you again, resuming his hot lazy attentions to your neck.
“Poe!” You lift your neck slightly, he’s kissing your clavicle and soothing the tops of your arms with his fingertips. He’s making a very compelling argument for staying just where you are, 5-minutes after 5-minutes, and then some. But you really do have to get going. This isn’t your kriffing honeymoon, it’s a war. And being that it is a war, and that Dameron likes to play… you close your teeth gently around the cute little lobe of his frankly adorable ear and give it a soft tug, letting the soft skin slide through your teeth— like a playful puppy. Nothing mean.
Poe mmmmm’s into your neck. “Keep doing that, baby.”
Oh yeah?
You hesitate for a second, and you feel him grow harder once more. Then you lick his ear with a breath of hot air and take the lowest softest portion of it between your teeth and tug again.
“Ohhh, shit, honey.”
He’s not kissing your neck any longer, just breathing heavily as you nibble on his ear. Damn him. Is every morning going to be like this? Missing call times? Never extracting yourselves from each other. Maker, he’s still inside of you which means you’ve been fully one entity for half a fucking day-cycle… you’re not mad at it. Not at all. Not after all the time you’ve spent only nearly together— separated by bunks and clothes and your silly little fears.
His ear is a surprisingly pleasant sensation in your mouth too, and you can’t help but moan and lick at it. He does have cute fucking ears. Maker, everything about him is cute, if you had your way you’d lick and bite every inch of him, no matter the call time.
“Yeah, keep doing that, baby. Fuck. I’m getting hard again.”
“Poe…” you breathe his name into his ear and he, yep, he’s hard again, and rutting into you… again. He lifts the backs of your knees up with his forearms and guides your shins to lock behind him. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, the position this opens you up to, Maker… he’s in deep. He uses his hands behind his back to lock your ankles together because, shit, you’re for sure not able to navigate your own kriffing body right now. And thank the stars that he does, because you have no god damn strength to hug his hips with your thighs or even prop your legs up right now. This way you can still be limp while he rocks into you, in his signature deep style— no hammering, hardly thrusting, just fucking rocking into you, rubbing and pushing perfectly into everything. You can fucking feel how swollen you are down there, how insanely hot and slippery everything has become, the combined spend of your amassed activity is leaking down your crack and pooling underneath your hips. Thin blanket bunched behind you and impossibly wet. Fuck, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was all leaking out the bottom of your mattress and dripping on Poe’s bed at this point. Everything, absolutely everything from your hair to the sheets, to your palm on the damned metal rail you’re gripping on, is damp to downright soaked.
The combined sunlight and your hot bodies and breaths is creating the warmest fucking slick between your abdomens and Poe is just perfectly sliding up and into you in sensational deep strokes. He licks into your shaking mouth, and that same feeling you had last night about not knowing where you ended and he begain— well it’s back. His hand on your hip rubbing loving circles with his thumb, might as well be your own. His tongue writhes hot and strong with yours and, fuck , everything is so fucking slippery. You’re completely in camp Fuck The Calltime when he shifts his thighs closer and sinks even fucking further into the throbbing core of you.
Maker, your internal temperature can’t possibly be sustainable, but your body doesn’t even call out for a cool drink of water like it calls out for more of his heat. You need him, you need him, you need him just like this.
“Fuuuck,” your moan is weak and low, a lament and a joy. Your pussy is sucking him in. Shit, you’re so swollen and sensitive right now you swear you can feel every vein of him, can clock the nearly imperceptible way his cock gets slightly harder inside of you as he approaches his end. Maker can you even call it an “end” when it never fucking ends? He’s just going to keep doing this, rocking into your open wetness, you’re certain. He’s just going to keep going forever, keep you attached together and fuck you till all the fucking fluid leaves your body. Bastard. The thought only makes you hold him tighter. Fuck, he’s sliding on you and in you— so so so good. Maker, you bite his ear again when you cum. He groans low and pushes as deep as he can, pulsing in you, shaking and sweating. Fuck, his abdomen is nearly vibrating with the shakes of it as your pulsing cunt squeezes the cum out of him. Your breath is even hotter than it was a few minutes ago and you’re not sure how that’s possible, but you know it is because you’re breathing into Poe’s ear, his lobe let-free from your bite and the breath stays in front of your face, making you hotter and hotter. You might pass out from heat, and still your body, slut that she is, tilts your hips up by a nearly negligible degree, unwilling to have a single bit of space between you and Poe.
“Oh fuck… what are you doing to me, Dameron.”
Poe kisses your nose, “You mean besides making a total mess of your hair?” He grins at you and rubs his nose against yours, breathing heavy, slick abdomen huffing against yours. He rubs your noses together some more before notching it next to yours and gently kissing you with his sweet lips….and you can fucking tell he’s about to go boneless again on you and ask for another “5 more minutes” before “getting up”. Psssh. If by getting up he means “achieving an erection”, then yeah. A solid 5 minutes is apparently all he needs before he’ll be hard again, and fucking you into the mattress (waterbed) again. Maker, maybe that conversation you heard in the bathroom was meant as a cautionary tale. A fucking ghost story. “Don’t sleep with Commander Hot Ass, he’ll fuck you until you die of dehydration. On some nights around base, some say you can still hear the moaning wails of the women he’s boned to death.”
“Poe. Please. Please get up and get me some water. I feel like I’m about to die.”
Poe pushes up from you and groans when he slips out of you. Maker, what a weird fucking feeling to be empty after all that. He hops down from the bunk with surprising spryness for a man who just nearly fucking killed you with his dick.
“And open the window. Please. Our funk is probably leaking into the kriffing hallway.” You slide your palms down your torso and stars it feels like you just stepped out of the river with how soaked you are.
Poe laughs and hands you your water bottle.
“You think that’s why no one got us for call time? Because they knew we were busy?”
He kisses your forearm before going over to open the window and— oh kriffing hell.
Poe pantsless. Ass on display. Maker bless the galaxy on this glorious day. You’re about to take a sip from your bottle when the sight of his perfect rear-end stops you in your tracks. He slides the window open and the relief is immediate. Fuck. Fresh air. Poe extends his palm to the top of the sill and leans, staring out at the bright day. The view is one of the nicer one’s on base. Some foliage and even a little edge of the river in the background if you look from the right angle. There’s a little walking path nearby but it’s not rec time, so Poe just stands at the window, dick out to the fucking world, ass to you. Maker bless him. You sip on your water and take in the view. Heaven, absolutely. Poe fucked you till you died and now you’re in heaven.
You hardly even registered what he’d just said, your mind lagging understandably at the sight of Poe in all his naked glory.
“Oh, I really kriffing hope not.”
“Ashamed, Eleven? Or should I say, Twelve?” Poe turns his head and winks and you, the cocky bastard. You look around your cot for Bigsby, the attack reptile (plushie), to throw at him, but he’s all the way down on the bottom bunk and so you settle for rolling your eyes at Poe instead. You scoot up further on the bed, goo spilling out of your pussy in a tepid trickle.
“I’m not ashamed. Not at all.” You smile genuinely at him and your heart feels like it’s glowing in your chest when he turns to face you. He’s naked and you’re naked and you’ve never been this naked for this long with anyone before. And somehow you aren’t self conscious. Not even a little. You make no move to cover yourself with the damp sheet as Poe’s eyes softly rake up your body. You turn then, and let your feet dangle off the side of the bunk, letting him see all of you, swinging your toes contentedly, and taking another pull of water. You smack your lips and sigh and hand the bottle to Poe. Who must be fucking thirsty…. although he did drink quite a bit from you last night, so maybe not.
Poe takes the bottle from you and kisses your hand. Then your knees and dangling legs. Maker is he already ready for more?
“Poe… you know what I want?” You say with a teasing seduction, wiggling your toes as he bends to kiss the tops of your feet. He still hasn’t taken a sip of water when he replies.
“Oh yeah baby, I know what you want.” He trails his fingers up and down the backs of your calves.
“Mmmm? What do I want, flyboy?”
He drags his lips up your leg, tossing the water bottle onto his bed. And he kisses you, again… as if you could get enough. And you’re sure he’s going to tease you and tell you “You want lucky thirteen” but he surprises you when he breaks the kiss and nudges his nose against yours.
“You want caf. A tall cup of it. With a splash of sarlacc cream and one scoop of yyeger.” His eyes are crinkled with a smile and stars, he looks so handsome just wearing a smile, it’s fucking absurd.
“And..?” You hint.
“Jogan fruitcake if they have it.” Not exactly what you had in mind, but you do love Jogan fruitcake.
“And?” You continue, placing a kiss on his stubbly jaw.
“And…. Vakiir eggs? Scrambled?” He’s thinking about food. He must be hungry. You laugh against his neck.
“No.”
“What do you want?” He smooths your hair out of your face with his warm palms.
“To find out….” You lead.
“Call time! Yes. On my way.”
Poe snaps his fingers and gives you a quick peck on the lips before he steps off his bunk and starts getting dressed in his clothes from last night. It’s just as well, neither of you should put on clean clothing. You’re filthy.
Before he’s out the door, fully dressed, he steps back onto his bunk and gives you a real kiss. You almost, you nearly fucking almost invite him back up for one more round. But he breaks the kiss with an “I love you.” And yeah you know you’re silly stupid in love, but how can you kriffing not be? You grab him by the cheeks and plant a good one on him before telling him you love him too and, “I’ll love you even more with a caf in my hand, Dameron.”
He finally manages to leave and— maker, should you even be drinking caf at this time of day? You’ll be up all night if you do, it’s that kriffing late in the day. Up all night. Stars. The thought brings a smile to your face this time. It doesn’t mortify you with implication like it did only yesterday.
You take the linens from your bed and put them in the hamper. You’ll have to do laundry today. Not a problem since it seems like you’re completely off for the day. Or maybe you won't do laundry today. You wont need to if you sleep in the bottom bunk with Poe. Wrapped up in his arms and in the smell of his sheets. You'll probably have to rethink the bunkbed situation soon. As cozy as you love to be with Poe, it'd be a lot more practical to have a real adult couple bed. Maker, does he want to do that? Is that too fast? And then you laugh to yourself thinking 'it was too fast' when it took a fucking year to happen.
You’re showered and mostly dressed when Poe gets back with your tall cup of caf and your slice of Jogan cake. You take a sip and it’s perfect. Exactly how you make it yourself. Maybe even a little better, a tad sweeter. You give him a kiss and a thanks… you could get used to this. The thought makes your mouth too stretched out in a smile to properly kiss, and Poe eagerly tells you he discovered the mystery behind the call time.
Apparently Jess came to your bunk to check on you after she got back from the Cantina and heard… well. Something. You’re not sure what she heard. You doubt she told Poe, but the two of you made a lot of sounds last night, so the list of what it could have been is a long one.
You chew on your cake and sip your caf while Poe tells you all about how happy Jess is for you two and how she “knew it all along”. Sure. You shake your head fondly.
“Oh, that brings me to the call time— It was Jess! She got us out of it, figured we would want some 'time together'. ‘New couple stuff’ were her exact words.”
Couple. You and Poe. You nearly choke on a piece of jogan fruit.
“You don’t want to be a couple?” Poe's eyes are heartbreaking behind a casual façade. He picks at his thumb and walks over to the window, assuming the same stance as this morning. Or afternoon. You’re still not sure of the time. “That’s fine by the way, if you just wanted it to be a hookup, I— I get that.” He’s staring intently at the sliver of river and a nice breeze ruffles his sexed-up hair. He still needs a shower, forgoing it to get you caf and answers at your request. He tries to look relaxed, as if he’s just enjoying the breeze. He’s unaware of the way his shoulders flex defensively, in a dead-giveaway.
How? How can he possibly be self conscious? How can he possibly think that you don’t want to be with him? And last night, how could he ever think you’d be put off by him, or whatever the hell weird conclusions he came to… Maker. The most perfect friend, the most perfect teammate, and the most perfect (as it turns out) lover. And he’s self-conscious because he thinks that you don’t want to be a couple?
“Of course I want to be a couple.” You step right next to him, taking his hand in yours. “I wanna be the most obnoxiously couple-y couple that ever coupled.”
Poe's eyes flick to your entwined fingers and then your your face. “Yeah? Wear coordinating outfits and everything?” His toothy smile is absolutely contagious and you laugh a bit at the image. I mean you already both have orange jumpsuits, it wouldn’t be that hard.
“Yes. And be 8 hours late to absolutely everything because of you. Yes. I want it all Poe. Every cringey corny bit.”
He pulls you into a hug and his hands run down your back, stopping at your bum. “Can I call you aggressively sweet nicknames in public? Like, cuddle butt?” He squeezes for good measure and chuckles lowly at your squeal. You bring your hands up to twist in his passion-mussed hair.
“Only if I get to call you… honey booger. Or something— I’ll think of a good one.”
Poe snorts and that and shakes his head. “Deal.”
You kiss him, and his lips are so warm. Another breeze blows through the window and it smells like fresh water and heated greenery.
Poe rubs small circles on your on your lower back with his thumbs. “Mmmm can I kiss you in public?”
“I’d be offended if you didn’t, commander.”
“And talk baby-talk to each other?”
Oh maker, he's in a silly mood. He's not serious. This is his way of asking 'do you really want me?' without asking. And you do. You fucking do. Even if you have to tell him you'd do kriffing baby talk in front of the crew to reassure him.
You gasp. “We weren’t doing that already? Well then, we’d better to do extra baby-talk to make up for lost time.”
Poe laughs loudly, all trace of insecurity gone. He bends his knees slightly and grips you by the waist in the circle of his strong arms, picks you up and twirls you around in a hug. “Maker, we are going to be insufferable.”
You kiss his neck, leaving your lips there on the rough stubble when you say, “So… exactly how we’ve always been?”
“Yeah. I guess things won't change too much.”
#poe dameron x fem!reader#Poe dameron x you#Ozzie tag#Poe Dameron x reader#yes it’s technically a continuation of Nine but it can be read alone!#I just can’t leave these idiots alone
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WIP Update - 21 Jun 2023
A slow writing week, as I was out of town at a convention from Wed night thru Mon night with minimal down time. I touched 4 fics (2 WIPs & 2new works) for a total of 1081 words.
On Ao3, I posted:
Blind Luck - Stony College/Med School AU meet cute/meet-ugly ficlet
New Beginnings - domestic Bucky/ pregnant fem!Howard
On Tumblr I posted:
Two Lists - self-reflective Bucky POV
Make Way for a Fabulous Tomorrow - WinterIron fluff with Tony’s coming out story.
I have 15 active WIPs with my current deadlines being the Bucky Barnes Connect Four Alt-Juniverse, the WinterIron Pride Prompt Party and Choose Your Own Stony Story events, all of which wrap up at the end of June.
See below cut for what I’m working on/planning to work on - arranged more or less by bingos/challenges/etc. As always, feel free to send me prompts or plot bunnies as well as asks regarding any of these projects or any other WIPs I’ve got out there. Interaction really helps feed the Muse and keep me motivated!
Seek & Destroy Collab
After reading @psychiccatpanda‘s amazing Morguna and the Green Queen, I got the itch to explore the Soldier’s POV and talked Faustie into collab’ing with me! We’re working on a new part of the series, and I’ve contributed about 900 words towards the 2500-ish we have so far. Going to see if I can squeeze any of my BBB squares into this fic.
Choose Your Own Stony Story (CYO_SS] - Ends 29 Jun]
Another fun event hosted by @stonyauniverse - this one uses flow charts where you choose a starting point, a genre and a prompt and are then assigned an AU and a trope to create a fanwork that incorporates all four into a single work. I was challenged to combine the following: AU: Med School, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, and Bathing. I managed to squish Conflicting Obligations/Oaths from my brand new TSB card into this as well! I posted Blind Luck on Friday and it came in at 844 words -- mind the tags/warnings.
Bucky Barnes Connect Four Alt-Juniverse Event (BBE_C4)[ends 30 Jun 2023]
Signed up for this event over at @buckybarnesevents - you get a four-square card featuring ideas for AUs. The prompts can be used as stand-alones or combined with each other or other events. Thanks to crossovers, I finished out one card and have a WIP that combines 2 squares and an idea to combine the other two.
* C1 - Interior Designer - combining this with my Gender Swap square for a continuation of Shifting Alliances - domestic Bucky/Maria (bonus Peggy/Steve) fic. New Beginnings came in at 629 words and posted this morning.
* C2 - Gender Swap - see above
* C3 - Professor/Student – Possible continuation of Technicalities from Bucky’s POV - could combine nicely with my FWB square below.
* C4 - Friends with Benefits – Combining this with Professor/Student above and possibly BBB Never the Fall that Kills You square.
WinterIron Pride Prompt Party [WI_PPP] (Ends 30 Jun)
This is a daily prompt event hosted by the WinterIron Discord server that will be running all month. I’m shooting to write something for at least half of these and have completed nine prompts with Tumblr ficlets so far: Day 1: First Meetings = Potential for Retribution; Day 2: Yearning = Dressing for the Occasion ; Day 3: Gender Euphoria = Where Will He Be Tomorrow? Day 4: Dragons are Gay = A Shift in Their Relationship; Day 5: Fluidity = Tony Stark’s Pride 101; Day 6: Internalized Homophobia = Two Lists Day 7: Questioning = Solving for X and Day 9: Older Gays = All the King’s Horses. Day 13 - Audacity = Make Way for a Fabulous Tomorrow
Hot Bucky Summer [BBE_HBS] (Ends Aug 30)
Another @buckybarnesevents event, this time with weekly smexy prompts. I’d like to complete at least two fics per month for this challenge.
Week One: “What should I wear?” + Collar - Posted Dressing for the Occasion to Tumblr on June 2nd as a crossover with the WI_PPP Yearning prompt as well as the Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF203 Yes Sir!!] . It came in at 325 words and will get posted to Ao3 before the event ends.
Week Two: “What Should I Call You?” + Alpha - combining this with the ACB June Monthly Mission AU: Sugar Daddy as well as the Kznot In My Name Anti-AI A/B/O event prompts: Sugar Daddy AU. Chapter One of A Sugar-Coated Pill posted to Ao3 last week and came in at 1200 words even.
Week Five: “When I First Met You..” + Fireworks - filling this with Chapter 2 of A Sugar-Coated Pill - combining with WIB Dancing and BBB Pet Names prompts. After attending a few events together, Bucky and Tony start to get more comfortable around each other. The first draft is coming in at 1087 words and may get tweaked a little before posting on 6/30.
Week Eight - “How did you meet?” + High Stakes Op - Chapter 3 of A Sugar-Coated Pill will fill these prompts - I may use my WIB AU: A/B/O square for this as well. Bucky is hosting a donor party at his own home with quite a bit of help from Tony, who in turn asks a favor. This chapter is currently sitting at 259 words and will probably run around 1500 words or so - to post sometime between Jul 20-26.
Week Three: “Where do you want me?” + in my lap -- Since this event lets us fill previous weeks, Chapter Four will be where A Sugar-Coated Pill finally gets steamy... possible crossover with WIB Eye Contact During Sex prompt and possibly Old Ghosts from my TSB card if I want to go a bit angsty (that or something spicy from adoptables at next weekend’s TSB Discord party!)
All Caps Bingo [ACB_R1] (Ends 30 Sep)
I’ve got thirteen completed fics, two WIPs and will be pursuing the One Fill, One Bingo Challenge for Row 5.
* I1 - Mutual Pining - may combine with something on my BBB card - see if the Centerfold fic idea fits in here.
* G1 - Isaiah Bradley - Planning to add more to The Fist, Defeated. (possibly present day)
* G3 - Established Relationship - planning to fill this with Chapter 2 of Half of the Flesh and Blood That Makes Me Whole - Stucky post CA:WS canon divergence + wingfic.
* O3 - Pararescue Sam Wilson - may try to squish this into an expansion of A Rising Star - a previous Flash Fiction Friday fill.
* June Monthly Mission: Sugar Daddy - See Week Two of BBE_HBS above.
Sam Wilson Bingo [SWB_R3] (Ends 15 Oct 2023)
I have three fills and one WIP - I need to work on cross fills between this and the All Caps and Bucky Barnes bingo!
* G3 - Joaquin Torres - see ACB Pararescue Sam Wilson above.
WinterIron Bingo - [WIB_R1] (Ends 16 Dec 2023)
I have nine fills completed and two WIPs for this brand-new bingo event that I’m helping mod! Along with crossfilling against my other bingos, I’m going to try to combine my B column squares for the Iron Soldier badge (complete a bingo with a single work). – Alpha Tony Stark, “That was not my intention.”, James Rhodes,Alpine loves Tony and Blind date.
* N1 - Bucharest – I think I can fold this into a future chapter of My Love is Vengeance - where a young!Tony and a recovering!Bucky have been kidnapped by Hydra, who still thinks Bucky is the Soldier.
* G2 - Eye contact during sex - see Week Three of BBE_HBS above
* G4 - AU: College Students – looking to expand Beaten to the Punch with some backstory on Bucky and Tony as science camp counselors to fit with this square - will also cross over with my WFB Volunteering Together square.
* O5 - Gentle – use this poem as inspiration?
* JUNE ADOPTABLE - Dancing - see Week Five of BBE_HBS above.
Bucky Barnes Bingo - [BBB_R5] (Ends 10 Jan 2024)
I’ve got five fills, six WIPs (!!) and a couple more Vague ideas.
* B4 - Shapeshifters - wrote . A Shift in Their Relationship as a crossover with the WI_PPP prompt Dragons are Gay. This came in at 404 words and will be posted to Ao3 before this event is over.
* U2 - Clint Barton/Hawkeye - Dredged up my year-old Winter Soldier/ young Clint WIP You Can’t Stop It With a Gun. Chapter 3 was already in progress and is now up to 548 words.
* C1 - Pet Names - see Week Five of BBE_HBS above
* C2 - Yelena Belova – The plan is to use this prompt in the next chapter of Peresmešnik, (aka Three Avengers and a Baby) , which is currently sitting at 1100 words (400-ish of which are mine).
* C5 - Marriage of Convenience/Pretend Couple - next chapter of Lady Natasha’s Consort and Lord Steve’s Companion. Not quite sure where to take this next at the moment. 😕
* K3 - Magic - Aro!Bucky sickfic idea?
* K5 - “Don’t Touch Him” - Using this prompt for Chapter Five of My Love is Vengeance It’s coming in at 1372 words and I have some decent notes that should allow me to finish this up in six or seven chapters total.
* Y2 - [image: IW Bucky with the good hair] A Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF198 What Comes Next] was a perfect match for an idea I’d already been playing around with to fill this square. I banged out Getting Prepared -(updated title = Preparations) an A:IW missing scene set between the time that T’Challa and Okoye come for Bucky and the moment he sees Steve again. I will post it to Ao3 sometime in the next month or so.
* Y3 - Alpine - see WIB Iron Soldier combo.
* Y4 - Forgotten Things - I may use this for Chapter 2 Half of the Flesh and Blood That Makes Me Whole, a Bucky POV remix of at least the first part of Take What Was Wrong (And Make it Right), which is current sitting at 52 words. I’m expecting at least one more chapter, possibly two, depending on how far I want to take the remix.
Stucky’Verse Bingo Round 1 - [SVB_R1] (Ends 22 Dec)
I actually forgot I signed up for this 😁. I got my card sorted out for swaps (tho will probably take advantage of the adoptables to replace one of my new swaps) so now I need to review my card for potential crossfills and idea sparks.
Tony Stark Bingo Round 7 - [TSB_R7] (ends 15 Feb)
Been looking forward to this card! I actually got a sneak peek and was able to tweak a fic to crossfill - need to review my card for potential crossfills and idea sparks.
* K1 - Conflicting Obligations/Oaths - see CYO_SS above.
* K3 - Pairing: Tony/Pepper - Expanding a bit on Starting Something New , so I can crossfill with my Tony Stark Bingo square Pairing: Tony/Pepper The ficlet is now sitting at 396 words and will post the first week of June.
Warm and Fluffy Bingo - [WFB] (no end date)
I got my card from @warmandfluffybingocards back in February but really hadn’t done much with it - however, I’m picking it back up for some crossover possibilities!
* N4 - Affectionate Teasing – see TSB Pairing: Tony/Pepper above
* O5 - Volunteering Together – see WIB AU: College Students
————
On other creative fronts: I have a Plague Doctor Stuffed With Character figure in progress - one of several commissions from last week’s con. I will be making an announcement about commissions sometime in July so if you’re looking for one of a kind gifts for birthdays or other celebrations, check out Stuffed With Character over on Facebook for a full list of my designs (now over 100!). These soft stuffed figures are mostly Marvel and monsters, but I have some Star Wars, Star Trek, DC and Disney figures as well. Plus I love to take custom design requests for any fandom!
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Facebook: Is It Possibly Broken?
https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/facebook-is-it-possibly-broken/
Around the middle of 2022, I began to seriously wonder if Facebook may be broken. Yes, literally broken.
I mean, think about it. Facebook has gotten so big -- around two billion users, from what I have read -- that maybe its worldwide network of servers, bots and algorithms can no longer handle the load. Is it possible that there are simply way too many users, even though Facebook relies upon a global network of CDNs?
Now, obviously, I don't know this for a fact, and it is just a theory on my part, but I suspect that maybe this user overload is in large part the reason why so many errors have been made in recent months. I am talking about all of the false positives with Facebook's security system. In other words, I am referring to the forced log offs, the forced lockouts, having to jump through Facebook's security hoops so many times, having to change our passwords so many times, seeing our posts frequently removed, etc.
I know for a fact -- because my FB friends have told me so, and because I have experienced it many times myself -- that people are getting locked out, and logged off, of their accounts for the stupidest reasons. Furthermore, their posts are being removed when they have done absolutely nothing wrong. They haven't posted anything inappropriate. And that includes myself as well. In other words, we have NOT violated Facebook's "Community Standards" in any way, as far as I can tell. It makes absolutely no sense that these things are happening so much, and so frequently, unless there is some kind of ongoing systemic failure going on with Facebook.
Folks, I just don't believe that Facebook's head honchos are so stupid, that they would continue to harass us that much. Think about it. They are already under tremendous pressure from the U.S. government, and from other entities, due to their multiple security gaffs, their apparent discrimination against Conservatives and Christians, etc. So why would they go out of their way, and do anything to further infuriate their user base? From what I have read, people are already leaving Facebook in droves, because they are fed up with it. So again, is it possible that there are some serious technical issues going on which have little or nothing to do with discrimination against us?
I don't know how many of my related posts you have seen, but as I have already made really clear a number of times already, after almost nine years of virtual peace on Facebook, with near zero harassment, it became a real nightmare for me as of early October, 2019.
The problems and harassment by Facebook techs got so bad, that I finally deleted my account in June of 2022, only to return 3.5 months later in September of 2022. Of course, now I just run a timeline, and no page or group, so things have been a lot more peaceful. However, sadly, it appears that I am STILL being shadow banned, and hardly anyone is seeing my daily posts. I actually make hundreds of posts each month. I wonder how many of them you actually see in your news feed.
As I mentioned a minute ago, up until I opened my new Facebook account in September of 2022, I was being forced logged off and forced locked out of my account dozens of times. I was also forced to jump through Facebook's security hoops and change my password dozens of times over the course of three months. In May of 2022 alone, I was forced to upload my personal ID six times, which is why I finally got fed up and left in June of that same year. As if that is not enough, prior to shutting down my old account, literally hundreds of my posts were being removed.
So, yes, as I have stated before, it seems like it may have been intentional harassment due to my Christian faith. But I am beginning to believe that it is that, and even more. Technically, it just seems to me that something is seriously screwed up, and the Facebook staff just don't have a handle on it yet, whatever it is.
I could be wrong, but that is my suspicion. What do YOU think? Let us know.
By the way, you might want to read this article:
"Why I Am Fed Up With Facebook":
https://www.billkochman.com/Articles/fed-up-facebook.html
Thanks!
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first time - loki laufeyson x plus-size reader
WARNING: this is going to be around 90% dirty smut. you have been warned.
mentions of: cunnilingus, deepthroat, facefucking, unprotected sex, breeding, first time
synopsis: reader feels extremely insecure about her figure, loki finds her being absolutely destroyed, he decides to show her how beautiful she is.
a/n: also, i like used a scene from my mad fat diary for one of the dialogues (another one of my favourite shows), so all creds to them! i also used a monologue called "corsets and courtship" for some of loki's quotes by @tomhiddlestonsoundalike on tumblr so all credz to him and whoever wrote the text!
enjoy, my plussize queens (or whoever's reading this lol)
+++
you stood in front of your mirror, in your undergarments, looking at your own reflexion, your fingers grazing your own skin, cringing at every bump or texture you felt. your skin wasn't as soft as you'd want it to be. it wore many marks, wether from your skin stretching or plain old cellulite. you had some pimples, some scarring... you hated it. all of it. you just wished you were perfect. you weren't skinny, that was for sure. you weren't even mid-size. you were a big girl. and as much as you'd want to pretend you weren't, there were times where that was impossible. you didn't fit in any "regular sizes" and not every store had a plus-size section. you were afraid to eat in front of people. you couldn't even be intimate with your boyfriend.
ah. your boyfriend. your boyfriend's name was loki. and he was probably the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes upon. well, not a man. technically he was an alien. or a god? he came from asgard. a different planet and it honestly baffled you that a literal god would go for someone like you, when he could get anyone he ever wanted. you couldn't believe what you were hearing when he revealed his feelings for you. of course you were hopelessly in love with him but you just couldn't believe he felt the same way. fat girls never get the hot guys. at least not in any story you ever heard, especially not in your life. you never had a boyfriend. no one had really shown any interest in you and you didn't either. mostly because you didn't think anyone would feel the same. you didn't feel as though you deserved to be with anyone, you were too big, too unattractive, too insecure. so you never really tried. until loki came around.
he became part of your life almost a year ago to this day. he was your first kiss, first date, first everything. the only first that was missing was... your first time. yes. you were a virgin. a fat virgin at that. you didn't even let loki see you without a shirt on. the mere thought made you burst into tears, imagining different improbable scenarios where he'd be so disgusted by your figure he'd leave you. but you wanted to. you wanted him to see you and you wanted him to touch you. you wanted him in every sense of the term, but you couldn't bring yourself to reveal your body to him when the time came. he was always understanding, listening to your wishes and never made you feel like you had to do anything you didn't want to do. but you could feel how much it made him ache to not be able to be with you the ways he wanted to. it made you ache as well.
you grabbed at your fat, your jiggly rolls, covered in purple stripes and you couldn't help the tears that threatened to fall, roll down your cheek. your small cries suddenly became sobs, and they became louder and louder, as your brain was flooded with images of loki's face, disgusted in your figure. you let yourself fall onto the bed, feeling your stomach touch your thighs, making your sobs grow even louder.
you held your stomach in one of your hands and and the other directed itself on your face, massaging your temple, feeling your heart beat inside your head.
you thought you were alone. you really did.
you heard the door of your bedroom creak. your head immediately jolted up as your glistening eyes met with familiar blue-ish green orbs.
you grabbed the nearest blanket and covered your almost naked body, your sobs completely stopping but your tears still melted away on your round cheeks.
your raven-haired lover walked in the room, carefully.
"oh my sweet girl, what has happened?" the god said softly, carefully kneeling in front of you.
he slowly held out his hand to meet yours with confusion, worry and a hint of sadness in his eyes, but you quickly dodged it and got up, covering your entire front side with the blanket and quickly turning around so he couldn't see the back of you.
"nothing" you struggled to say, in between cries, still backing away from him.
you continued walking backwards until your lower back hit the dresser. you looked down, for a few quick seconds and when you looked back up, your lover was only a mere 2 inches away from your face. he cupped your visage with his hands and softly wiped your dried tears with the back of his thumb.
" you know how much i trust you my darling..." he started. " ... but this doesn't look like nothing."
he started slowly stroking your hair and brushing it with his fingers. you tried avoiding his stare but it was useless, as he was grabbing your face and lifted your chin up to make you look at him straight in the eyes.
as his stare felt as though it was piercing through your soul, you couldn't contain your cries anymore.
" be honest with me... i beg of you... it pains me to see you like this" he pleaded.
you started to contain your sobs a bit better, but you still felt so much pain.
" why... why are you with me loki...?" you were able to blurt out.
confusion. confusion was all that was written over his face. he also looked a bit hurt.
his stare started going around the room, trying to find an answer to your question. his hands, that previously were cupping your face, slid down to your throat and rested on your collarbone, his thumb drawing circles over your thyroid.
"what kind of question is that?" he said, annoyance in his voice. you were afraid you made him angry.
"loki... you can have anyone you want, alright? you're a god..." you said, tears still brimming the sides of your eyes.
loki looked at you with so much hurt, it was hard to keep eye contact.
" you're an 11, and i'm a two at best..." you proceeded. "most people, when they see us, out in public, or on social media, they must be thinking; "oh he must be absolutely mad going out with that..." you stopped yourself when you saw loki's facial expression go from hurt to raging.
"that what?" he asked firmly.
you didn't answer.
"THAT WHAT?" he screamed, making you jump.
he put a hand over his mouth, trying to calm himself down.
"how many times do i have to tell you, y/n?" he started. "you are my person. my woman. my everything. you are the most magnificent being my eyes ever laid upon. the most beautiful creature in all of the nine realms. can't you see? can't you? because i can. i see it everyday. i don't have to see you bare to know. never say that to me again, you understand? do you? do you understand?" he said, starting softly and becoming more firm.
his hands were still hanging by your collarbone, but you felt them grip at your skin, desperate for your understanding, for your touch, for you.
"... i" you started. "i d-do..." you stuttered through sniffles.
he looked at you directly in the eyes. you knew he loved you.
'but not enough.' you thought to yourself.
your love carefully placed his lips upon yours. his lips that you were familiar with. lips you kissed thousands of times. lips you loved. lips you longed for. you needed. the kiss he planted was one of the most delicate kisses he'd ever given you, but at the same time, one of the most passionate. it felt like all of the love he felt for you he poured out into you and in that moment, you felt like nothing could come between you two.
"p-please don't leave me, loki..." you cried out after the kiss.
"my love, my love, my love... never. i love you." he reassured you, stroking your hair.
he planted kisses all over your face, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, and then back to your lips, this time with more hunger. it was like all of the times he had to restrain himself, when you felt like you weren't ready, completely melted into that kiss. all of his passion, his love, his hunger, his despair, and more importantly his lust, he finally let it all out and you let it all in.
"loki..." you panted in between kisses.
"mmh... yes my love?" he said, intensifying and deepening his kisses more and more.
you hesitated. but you knew. you knew you were ready.
"i-...mmh... i want you." you said, desperation tinting your voice, sounding almost like a plea.
loki slowed down. he took a minute to look at you in the eyes. he wasn't sure what to say. he wasn't even sure what you were saying.
"what?" was all he could muster up to say.
you looked at him with a little more confidence and nodded slowly.
the look on his face was priceless. he would finally be able to be with you.
"a-are you sure about this, love?" he said, sounding like he had just won the lottery.
you nodded again.
he grabbed the sides of your head firmly and leaned in to kiss you once more. his hands trailed down the sides of your body and started playing with the blanket that you were still holding firmly in your hands. you were scared to let go. to be completely bare to him.
"i'm afraid you're gonna have to let this go, my darling." he whispered in you ear, taking the chance to leave a wet kiss on your lobe, slightly biting down on it.
he grabbed your shaking hands in his, drawing circles with his thumb softly against yours.
"give yourself to me, little one... let me see you, touch you, feel you, taste you. i beg... i beg of you." he whispered again, pressing his forehead against yours.
you breathed heavily. you wanted him to see you. to touch you, feel you...
the wall you had built had always seemed so hard to knock down... but in this moment though, that wall seemed to be made of silk. all you had to do was let it go.
"okay..." you said, in the softest voice you ever spoke.
you backed away from loki and walked backwards a few feet. you were now standing the back of your knees faced towards the end of the bed. loki was staring at you proufoundly, awaiting your reveal impatiently.
your hands were trembling. you had nightmares about this moment. you had panic attacks for this moment. this moment was everything. but something about loki... was it the way he stood? the way he spoke? was it his stare? something about him made you feel safe. safer than you had ever felt before tonight.
so you let go.
you felt the blanket reach your toes. you cringed. so you closed your eyes, not wanting to witness loki's disappointment. you awaited any second now a hurl, a disgusted sound or a hurtful comment. but none of that.
you carefully opened your eyes, only to find loki with a gaping mouth, having the most amazing look on his face. a look of pure love, of endless attraction and mesmerising lust.
he approached you slowly, making each of his step count. when he finally reached you, he immediately pressed his forehead against yours. though your eyes were staring down at your feet, you could feel his stare devouring you.
he carefully placed his hand upon yours and let it trail up your arm. then back down again, giving you chills.
he didn't say anything. not a word. what was he thinking?
"i... i look disgusting i know, i'm so sorry. i know i disappoint..." you said, starting to regret the blanket had reached the floor.
you heard loki sigh so heavily.
"you... have got to be joking, love..." were the first words he spoke after seeing your figure. you heard the smile through his voice.
"in all of my..." he started. you heard him swallow before continuing. "in all of my 1056 years of living... never... and i mean never... have i ever witnessed such beauty before this night. my sweet, sweet girl, i simply do not understand why you felt the need to hide."
his hand reached your face and kissed you so passionately, you felt a sort of... heat at the bottom of your stomach. it was an unfamiliar feeling.
that same hand made its way to your neck, then to your shoulder and started playing with one of your bra straps. eventually, he completely took it off and did the same with the other strap.
"you have no idea what you are doing to me right now..." the god said, in a lower, hungrier voice.
"what am i doing to you?" you asked, innocently.
in between kisses, you could feel loki smirk against your lips.
his hand went from your shoulder, trailed down your arm and grabbed your hand in his. he took it and before you knew it he pressed it upon himself. his black, silky, suit pants were showing a bulge in between his legs and that's exactly where he put your hand.
he was hard.
when you first touched it, you heard a whimper come from your lover. god, he needed you.
"this... this is what you are doing to me, darling."
you couldn't believe the words he was saying to you. you felt as though you were in a sort of dream. loki wanted you. he was... quite literally hard for you.
loki grabbed your hair and pulled your head back so you were looking at him. his eyes went extremely dark.
"lay down. on the bed. now." he demanded firmly.
you obeyed his commands in the blink of an eye. you were ready.
you laid down on the bed, on your backside, carefully. when you got comfortable you looked up at loki and saw him looking at you, with hungrier eyes. eyes that were darker and more lustful than ever. he was devouring you with his eyes and he made sure to capture every square inch of skin of your body.
with only a smirk and the flick of a hand on your partner's part, your bra disappeared in a light green magic, leaving your breasts uncovered and nipples starting to harden.
loki obviously couldn't contain himself any longer and almost jumped on top of you, kissing you savagely, making his way down your neck, leaving all sorts of love marks, some darker than others. some of them were painful but the pain only reminded you that this was real. when he got to your breasts, you could almost see his mouth water.
he carefully grabbed one with his hand, keeping eye contact with you the whole time.
"so soft, so plump... for me. oh god, sweetheart you're giving me such a delight"
and with no warning he started giving you small licks, around your nipple, carefully approaching your most sensitive part, which he enthusiastically started to flick with his tongue. the sudden pleasure rose your voice as you let out a small whimper, begging for more.
"yes... yes my sweet girl... let it out... show me how much you want this" he said in a raspier voice.
you found your fingers playing with his raven-black locks, as his mouth played with your brown-ish pink buttons.
he did so for some while, until he felt your hand grasp at his vest. you wanted him to reveal himself to you as well. he got the message pretty quickly.
he looked up from his meal, giving you the same amount of eye contact, as he took off his black blazer, black tie and black vest. all he had on were his bottoms but you were too worried about his beautiful torso to notice. you let your hands wonder on his pale chest, feeling the softness of his skin, some of his hair, up to his pecs, you couldn't believe it. how can this man become even more beautiful?
"like the view, my love?" he asked. you enthusiastically nodded.
he bent down to leave more love bites over your torso and your breasts. he started to slowly go down your body leaving kisses under your breast, going even nearer to the most insecure part of your body. you cringed and whimpered again, but this time in a less of a pleasurable manner, remembering all of your stretch marks and cellulite, knowing he'll be disappointed.
"i... couldn't... be... more... in... love..." he breathed out between his wet kisses. he was now definitely directly on your tummy.
he looked up, knowing you wouldn't like this part. he met your eyes and definitely noticed your hesitation.
he got back up, towering over you. he bent back down, catching your lips in his.
he carefully started stroking your hair, in the most loving manner you could ever imagine. he looked at you straight in the eyes, seeming like he was trying to deliver a message directly to your soul.
"what have i done to deserve you?" he asked, his voice choking in between his words.
those words completely melted your aching heart.
it was your turn to touch him. you said nothing as you slowly stroked his cheek with the back of your hand, giving him your approval by a shake of the head.
he smiled and his head disappeared to your stomach again.
you could feel his hands rome around your entire body and his mouth leaving wet kisses over your stomach. his long raven hair still trailed around higher up on your torso, nearer to your breasts.
he finally got to the place his own body longed for the most.
at this point you were completely damp and you awaited his reaction to your wetness impatiently.
he quickly gave you one of the hungrier and most impatient look you'd ever seen him give you.
he got up in front of the bed, looking you up and down like a predator looks at its prey and with the flick of hand, yet again, loki made your panties disappear in a light shimmering green magic, leaving you completely bare. all that was covering you up were your legs, still pressed firmly together.
loki carefully placed his hands over your bare knees. he could feel you trembling. was it from excitement? nervousness? or desire?
"open up for me, my love... let me in" he said in a demanding, pleading voice.
you slowly started to comply and let your legs go loose. your lover took it upon himself and slowly spread your thighs apart. he couldn't believe his eyes.
he was letting himself finally see your aching core. he could see it glistening, it was calling to him, begging for his touch. he was the one the one responsible and he'd never felt prouder. he admired every fold, every forgotten hair you missed while shaving, everything about it was inviting.
"oh my sweet sweet girl... look at the state of you. don't you understand how long i've been waiting? to see you in this position, completely at my mercy, legs spread, only for me..."
he gulped and whimpered at the sight of you, as you spread you legs even further. he could feel the tightness in his pants become almost unbearable. he'd never been this aroused before in his entire life. but first, he needed a taste of you.
he slowly started leaving wet kisses over your thighs, getting closer and closer to your velvet folds. his hands traveled your entire body. your body, that felt as though it had been set on fire.
he once again cupped one of your breasts and started flicking your nipples with his fingertips. you let yet another whimper escape your lips, needing him more than you've ever needed anyone.
you felt his hot breath against your wet love box and that was all it took to make you go insane.
"p-please..." you pleaded to the god.
he took your scent in, smelling the most mouth-watering aroma he ever got the chance to smell in all of his 1000 years.
"you don't have to ask me twice, my sweetness..." were his last words before delving in.
he placed his fingers upon your aching core, exploring all of your folds, he couldn't believe how wet you were.
"darling... you are dripping..."
he let his fingers trail for a few seconds, until they reached your entrance. he circled it with the tip of his finger as he finally placed his lips right on top of your sensitive button.
the sudden, unfamiliar sense of pleasure, completely took you by surprise as you yelped.
his tongue peaked through after a few kisses planted on your clitoris. it circled in the same motions his finger was making to your entrance. he was so soft, so cautious. but you could feel the heat in the bottom of your stomach growing darker, more demanding so you placed you hands on the top of your lover's head, brushing your fingers through his hair and slightly pushing his head down on your core.
loki got the message, as his circles became more passionate and as he started flicking his tongue aggressively at your core.
you felt your entire body tremble in desire as loki's finger plunged itself in between your folds, exploring your insides.
you were now moaning deliberately, wanting him to add digits. you thought you'd be more resistant, you thought it'd be a little painful, even but all you could feel was pleasure.
"more..." you pleaded.
as the words were still hanging from your lips, loki plunged yet another finger in, and this time, you did feel a little resistance but you didn't care. you wanted him. you wanted him so much.
his tongue was working wonders on your clit. you would think the man hadn't eaten in days at the sight of him. he was completely devouring you and you could feel the pleasure build up inside of you.
the mixture of his fingers pumping in and out of you, and his tongue flicking at your sensitive button, all of it was too much for you to handle. you felt something was coming.
"loki... l-loki... something... something's happening." you panted, in between moans.
he didn't stop. he knew what he was doing. he went harder, his tongue completely destroying you.
"i can feel it as well... your heat... your wetness... let yourself come undone, my sweet... for me" he whispered, panting, in between licks.
'come undone?' you thought. but before you knew it, you felt it. the highest peak of pleasure your body had ever felt in its life. you felt your thighs squeeze around the god's head, squashing him a little. you didn't want to hurt him but you couldn't contain yourself, as you screamed his name, not believing that amount of pleasure was even possible. it was electrifying. your whole body reacted, you were sweating. you put your hand over your mouth and bit down your finger to stop yourself from becoming a screaming mess, but it was already too late, as you rode your orgasm out to the last bit of pleasure you could conquer up.
"you taste even sweeter than i thought you would, sweet girl" he said, giving the nickname a whole different meaning.
you let out a huge sigh, slowly coming back to your senses. you looked up as loki got up from between your legs, his hand still caressing your folds slowly and placed a delicate kiss on your lips. you tasted what you thought was yourself. oddly enough, you didn't cringe, you hadn't found yourself to taste disgusting. it was... kind of erotic actually.
"loki i..." you started. you didn't know how to ask. "i want to..." you sighed out.
"say it, darling" he said, stroking your hair, still caressing in between your legs.
"i want to taste you... too" you finally let out.
you wanted to make him feel as good as he made you feel. you wanted to thank him in a way.
he was surprised. he didn't think you were ready.
"you made me feel so good today... i want to reciprocate the feeling... y'know..." you said, shyly.
loki's hand pulled at your hair to make you look at him.
"is that what you want?" he asked, firmly. he grabbed your hand and slowly pressed it yet again on his throbbing member, through his tightening pants.
he sighed heavily, still looking at you straight in the eyes.
you nodded, slowly. he smirked.
"then, get on your knees."
you obeyed.
you liked how he commanded you and guided you through all of your movements. you were nervous he wasn't going to enjoy, but the anticipated look on his face told you otherwise. also, the throbbing length in his pants.
you were now on your knees, on the floor, at the end of the bed and loki was sitting, his still clothed legs spread, inviting you in.
you started to slowly stroke his thigh, rubbing your hand up and down, each time getting closer to his private. you did the same thing with his other thigh, feeling the god getting impatient with your teasing.
you finally placed your hand over his member, giving it a small squeeze. you heard your lover grunt, at only your touch.
"you're eager" you stated, looking up at him. he gave you a smirk.
"less talking." he said, darkly.
you complied, massaging his bulge through his pants.
when you finally unzipped them, you heard your lover let out a sigh of relief. you wanted to bring them down to his ankles, but loki, being impatient, made them disappear in his green magic.
"hey. let me work." you said, in more of a joking way.
"i said... less talking" he repeated.
you noticed a small wet spot on his grey boxers. you bent down, without touching it, smelling it.
you felt the god squirm under you, eager to feel you around him.
you carefully, and slowly took his boxers down, letting his member spring free of its shackles, finally revealing itself to you.
he was huge. it was veiny, its tip was a dark pink, almost red, it was pale like the rest of his body. but most importantly, it was enormous.
"like the view, my love?" he asked for the second time that night.
you nodded your head enthusiastically. all you wanted was to get a taste.
you carefully approached your hand to the hot spot. the second your fingers reached his skin, loki whimpered. it was burning up, but it was so soft. you felt the veins under your fingertips, and suddenly it was like you knew exactly what to do. you carefully started stroking him and ran your thumb over the most sensitive part of his shaft, his frenulum, and heard him whimper once again.
"please" he pleaded, imitating your pleas from earlier.
"you don't have to tell me twice" you imitated as well.
you approched his tip to your lips and delicately gave him a soft kiss. his skin was so warm.
you continued giving him small pecks but you felt him get, yet again, impatient with your teasing.
"oh come on..." he pleaded.
you looked at him. sweat was dripping down his forehead.
you then flipped his cock over, back to his stomach to give yourself full access to the base of his member. you placed your tongue directly in between his balls and shaft and worked your way up to his tip, making sure you passed by his sensitive junction between his red bulb and the rest of his penis. directly after, you put his tip in your mouth and started bobbing your head back and forth, tasting the drops of pre-cum he deposited on your tongue.
you heard him moan, some cusses flew out of his mouth, he moaned mainly your name, or called you by all sorts of nicknames.
"oh my, oh my... you're doing so good... mmh... g-good girl..." he moaned out.
his words were able to bring back that heat at the bottom of your stomach. you slowly directed your hand in between your thighs and started stroking your own bundle of nerves. loki didn't seem to notice, too lost in the waves of pleasure you were giving him.
he was now moaning deliberately. he tried... he really tried, but he couldn't contain himself anymore, he grabbed your head, pulled you by your hair and pushed your head down to take more of his shaft. you awaited a gag or any sort of resistance on your part, really, but nothing came.
loki got up from where he was sitting, your head still enveloping his shaft and started moving back and forth, you being completely at his mercy. he was deliberately fucking your face, and you let him.
he moaned your name so many times you'd lost count. he became more and more agressive with each thrust until all of his shaft was buried down your throat. he held your head down for a few seconds, gripping at your hair, letting his cock sit in your mouth, until he finally pulled out, a strand of saliva escaping your lips. he was out of breath, but not as much as you.
"you feel so good, my love. you're doing amazing" he said, panting.
you gave him a few kitten licks, asking for more. he buried his cock again down your throat, pumping in and out. he was fucking your face as though it was a cunt, using your throat as a mere hole that was made to mold his shaft perfectly.
you weren't gagging which surprised you. you'd never tested your gag reflex, but obviously you didn't have any.
you felt him go faster and faster until he once again, suddenly stopped as your head was completely enveloping his shaft. but this time, he started grunting and moaning, louder, in more of an animalistic way, holding your head down, hard, as deep as he could go.
"i- i'm cumming, love" he grunted out.
suddenly, you could taste bitterness, saltiness explode in your mouth, and run down your throat. your first instinct was to spit it out, but your god kept your head in place, making you swallow. it felt never ending. he kept cumming and cumming. you thought the taste would repulse you, from what you had heard from friends and the internet, but you honestly didn't find it to be that disgusting.
he stayed in that same position, holding your head in place, for another ten to fifteen seconds after he came. you felt his cock twitch in your mouth and he finally removed himself.
you took a deep breath, considering you could finally breathe properly.
loki knelt down to your level. he looked at your face. fortunately, you weren't wearing makeup, so no makeup to ruin. your eyes were red, tears had run down your face, you had spit all over the sides of your face, and some of loki's cum had fallen out of the corners of your mouth. he wiped it with his thumb and took it up to your mouth.
you sucked his thumb dry, tasting him yet again.
he gave you a loving smile.
"mine." he simply said, in a soft manner.
he then kissed you in the most loving way he could, tasting himself on your lips.
he then backed away, looking you up and down, noticing your hand still wondering around in between your thighs. he smirked and locked eyes with you.
"i think we're gonna have to take care of that." he said, as he got up. he was now standing up while you were still on your knees. you noticed his cock was hard again, once it got to your eye level. how was that even possible? how could he be hard again this quick? you had to remind yourself he did have the stamina of a god. he handed you his hand for you to take, which you did.
he got you up and carefully placed his hands on the sides of your head and started stroking your hair.
"are you still sure you want to do this my love?" he asked.
you chuckled.
"after what we've done? i'm pretty sure there's no backing up now?"
he gave you a confused look.
"of course there is. i'm not gonna do anything you're not comfortable doing, sweetheart." he said.
you sighed at your poor choice of words.
"and i know that." you started. "but i'm ready. i want you... loki."
he smiled yet again. he didn't say a word. he just kissed you. it was a passionate kiss, like all of your others that night. his hands roamed around your body as if it was discovering it again for the first time.
taking you by surprise, he lifted you up, flipped you around and threw you on the bed. never had you been picked up before. you always thought you'd break the person's spine. but loki lifted you up so easily, you felt like a feather.
"you're mine" the god grunted, as he plunged on top of you. he spread your legs open, as far as he could and positioned himself right between them.
he reached down to your bundle of nerves and drew circles with his fingers like he did earlier. he wound up plunging his fingers inside you yet again, prepping you for what was about to replace them. you could feel his length harden even more against your thigh, as he did so.
you started whimpering, wanting more than just his digits to fill you.
your whimpers were like music to loki's ears. he loved hearing how much you longed for him. he loved seeing you squirm under him. he enjoyed feeling all powerful, having that much control over you.
"take me" you sighed out, looking at your lover straight in the eyes. you couldn't hold it in anymore. you needed him. you needed him inside you. now.
he smirked as he bent down, to leave a soft kiss on your forehead.
"tell me when you want to stop, my darling. use your words." he asked of you.
you nodded, agreeing to his words, whilst trying to spread your legs even further.
his fingers left your core, leaving you needy and wanting to feel him once more, but they were quickly replaced by what you knew was his tip. he started slowly moving back in forth in between your folds, teasing at your entrance.
he gave you a look, pleading for approval.
you slowly nodded, ready to take him in.
you felt his his bulb starting to peak inside of you. you winced, feeling a slight resistance.
he stopped. but you nodded again, asking for him to continue.
as he buried his shaft deeper in you, it started to really hurt. for real this time.
"ow, ow. stop." you asked. "but stay inside. just stay... stay like this. let me- let me adjust."
he listened to you.
"are you okay, my love?" he asked, still halfway inside of you.
you nodded again, breathing heavily. you knew you could do it. you wanted to.
"p-... proceed." you said.
he listened to you again, burying himself entirely in you. he let out a loud grunt. your walls had adjusted to the size of his member and it felt less painful.
your lover moaned again.
"you.. are so tight, oh my. you feel so good." he panted.
you smiled. you loved seeing him in this much pleasure. you loved the passionate, lustful look on his face, all of it was for you.
he started moving back and forth, slowly, being really careful of each and every one of your movements, analyzing if you wanted to continue or not.
the first few thrusts were painful but eventually the pain left and absolute ecstasy took its place.
loki noticed the change in you and decided to give his thrusts more power, barely able to contain himself. he pumped in and out of your aching core at a medium rate. he wanted to go faster, harder but he stayed careful.
but you... you wanted more. you started clawing at loki's back, bringing him closer to you and leaving red scratches all over his back. you kissed his neck, his torso, leaving him the same bruises he left you earlier, though yours weren't as agressive as his. yours were small, red, but his eventually became huge purple bruises. and you had them all over your body. he started leaving you some more, on your neck, your collarbone, imitating your movements.
"more..." you pleaded.
he smirked against your skin, left you yet another passionate kiss on your lips and with that, his thrusts became harder, more agressive, much faster. you felt as if he was trying to crawl inside of you.
you both started moaning and screaming each other's names at the top of your lungs. your lover got up, detaching his torso from yours, trying to find an angle where he could go deeper inside of you. you wanted him back, missing the heat of his body. you reached out to him with your arm, but he firmly grabbed it, stopping you in your tracks. you were surprised. he looked down at you, staring at you straight in the eyes. his eyes went dark. his hand that had stopped your movement, trailed up from your hand, to you elbow and up your arm, until it reached the crook between your shoulder and your neck. his thumb drew circles over your cheek, then your chin and finally on your throat. you didn't even have the time to realise but his hand had completely wrapped itself around your throat, choking you slightly. you could still breathe completely fine, but his hand held your head in space, as his thrusts became even harder, if that was even possible.
he started panting, completely losing himself in the moment.
he bent down again, still holding your throat in his hand. he grabbed you and forced your face to be centimetres from his.
"mine." he said in a deep, grunting voice.
that word was the one that completely sent you over the edge. you could feel your walls clench around his member, your were close. you needed your release.
"loki... i'm close." you tried sighing out.
he understood you perfectly. the hand he wasn't using to choke you found its way down between your legs and started playing agressively at your clit.
"let go, baby... let go" he panted.
you couldn't hold it in anymore. you let your orgasm take control of your entire body. your legs were shaking, your hips started grinding against loki's, your hands scratched at his back even deeper, your eyes were rolling back inside your head, and your mouth gaped wide open, letting all sorts of cusses fly out of your mouth.
as you rode out your orgasm, you knew loki was close as well. seeing you in this intense state, all because of him, sent him over the edge and he knew he couldn't hold on much longer.
you started grinding your hips even more agressively, trying to meet his.
"come on, baby..." you whispered in his ear, leaving all sorts of wet kisses and hickey's all over his body.
you ran your finger through his curls, pulling at his hair.
and that's when you knew. you felt his hand grasped at your throat even tighter, making you gasp for air. he stopped moving, buried deep inside of you.
"oh my fu..." he started, moaning loudly.
you had made some research about how it would be like to have someone cum inside of you. you found out most people couldn't feel it. but you did. you felt all of it. you felt a warmth completely invade your insides, it kept coming and coming, just like earlier but this time inside of you.
loki's hand was still wrapped around your throat, holding it firmly, but as his orgasm ended, he eventually loosened his grasp.
when he finally stopped coming, as he was still buried inside you, he finally looked up at you and left a wet kiss your lips.
"i love you" he said, out of breath.
"i love you too."
loki looked down and smirked, taking his hand off your throat.
"no... don't say it like that... don't say "too"... it sounds like you're just agreeing with me. say it for real..."
you scoffed a little, thinking his request to be a little ridiculous. but you understood. you ran your fingers through his raven locks, held his head between both your hands, making him look at you.
"i love you, loki... i love you." you said softly, staring into his ocean blue eyes.
he gave you a wide smile and kissed you once more. he gave you a kiss full of love and passion.
after your kiss, he slowly pulled out of you. you felt so full, a second ago, the absence of his shaft between your legs contrasted so much with the empiness you now felt.
loki bent down again between your thighs to watch his seed run out of you. it felt yet again, never ending, but loki watched attentively.
"what a beautiful sight... may i snap a picture?" he said, jokingly.
"shut up..." you said in the same tone.
he gave you one last lick to your core and licked his lips, not minding his cum, plastered over your folds.
"i'll get a towel..." he said, leaving one last peck on your lips.
"thank you, honey..." you thanked him softly.
as you layed, completely naked on your bed, you thought.
you no longer felt restrained in your own skin, not around him at least. he made you feel seen, loved, desirable. you hated your body a little bit less, now. you might even try eating in front of people! maybe...
you and loki didn't just have sex that night. you made love. he didn't just take your virginity, he made you into a better, improved version of yourself.
you were never more in love with him than in that moment.
loki came back with a light pink towel. he rose your hips up in the air and deposited it under you. he used the other end of the towel to wipe his seed off you.
once you were clean, loki got back off the bed and put the towel back in the bathroom.
he joined you in bed and wrapped his arms around you.
you felt so good. better than you had in years. with him. you felt so loved.
you didn't want to move, but you remembered you had to pee after a sexual intercourse... you read it in a blog.
you nudged loki, trying to get off the bed, but loki held you back, making it impossible for you to move.
"don't... even think about it." he said firmly under his breath.
you chuckled.
"i'm gonna get a urinary tract infection... and it's gonna be on you." you said in an accusing manner.
"darling, i'm a god... i have super powers, you're not gonna get a... whatever sort of infection you're talking about."
you scoffed, nuzzling your nose in the crook of his neck, sighing heavily.
loki left a loving kiss on the top of your head and held you tighter.
"you're mine... all mine."
+++
word count: 7395.... comment if you liked it loveys!! what was your favourite part?
#loki smut#loki laufeyson#plus size#plus size reader#marvel#tom hiddleston#loki x reader#loki x plus-size reader#smut
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Christmas Parties and New Traditions
12 Days of Christmas - Day Nine: Christmas Party
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader
((Can be read as a continuation of this fic))
Plot: While attending a BAU Christmas Party, Aaron and Y/n dance, while talking about their new Christmas plans.
Warnings: None!
Word Count: 863
General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire
CM Taglist: @resplendentlady, @aaannabbanana, @hybrid-omegaverse, @sweetbearcolorgarden
Requested Taglist: @sunnysidesidra
-
You laughed at another of Derek’s jokes as you sat around the large table. You were sitting next to Aaron, his hand in yours under the table. Derek, Savannah, JJ, Will, Garcia, Rossi and Spencer were sitting at the table with you.
The room was filled with tables of people, with other groups standing around in corners talking to each other The sound of conversation filled the air, along with soft Christmas music in the background, as twinkling lights and bright Christmas trees were sparkling throughout the room.
The annual BAU Christmas Party had been going on for nearly three hours. You had all arrived, talked, laughed, ate, and now talked and laughed some more. You guessed the night was nearly over, as it was nearly 10pm. But as the Director announced it was time to dance, you readied yourself to be up for longer than you originally thought.
Couples began to file towards the dance floor, as Aaron leaned in, whispering to you. “Wanna dance?”
You glanced over at him and he smiled, encouragingly. You smiled in return and whispered back. “I don’t think one or two will kill me.”
He smirked as he rose, taking your hand in his as you followed the others. As you fell naturally into the dance, Aaron’s hand rested softly on your waist as you swayed back and forth to the music. The room you had entered was decorated with various shimmering lights and garland draping the walls, with one large Christmas tree in the corner.
“I’m glad you came.” Aaron said suddenly.
You smiled at him, “Me too.”
This was the first Christmas party you had attended at the BAU. This year you had more incentive to go, since you were now in a relationship with Aaron. The previous year, you had not felt very festive, and decided not to go. But now, you were more than happy too.
“I’m also glad we have this time alone, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
You quirked your brow, “Bad or good?”
“Good.” He answered quickly, “At least I hope so.”
“Consider me intrigued, and all ears. What is it?”
He seemed to think over his words for a moment before he smiled softly, “Jack wanted to know if you would be spending Christmas morning with us.” You felt your heart begin to beat a little faster. “I wanted to say yes, but then I realized that I should ask you first. He wants you to be there, and I really want you too also. And I know we have not been together that long, but this will technically be our first Christmas together, I thought, maybe we should do it right. But, if you think it’s a bit too fast, I’m okay with waiting until next year.”
You shook your head and smiled. “No, I’d love to. The thought had crossed my mind but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.”
Aaron smiled in relief. “Great. I know Jack will be excited.”
You smiled brightly. “I’m sure he’ll be even more excited when he sees the presents I’ve been hoarding at my house, that I can now put under your tree.” You chuckled slightly at Aarons expression.
“Uh oh.” He jokingly laughed, “I hope some of them are for me.”
“Only some.” You said with a smile and his only widened.
Leaning down, he pressed a quick kiss to your lips before pulling you closer to him. Chest to chest, you wrapped your arms around his neck as you continued to dance.
“I hadn’t really processed that it would be our first Christmas together. Last year I know I saw the two of you just before Christmas at Rossi’s house party, but you’re right, this is the first Christmas that feels more like…Ours.”
“It’s a special one for sure.” He said gently, “We could start our own traditions.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Jack mentioned something about a fort made out of Christmas boxes and wrapping paper.”
“Ohh, fun.” You chuckled. “We can make our own stockings, or go ice skating.”
“We could go pick out a real Christmas tree.”
Your eyes lit up a little bit at this. “I’ve never had a real Christmas tree.”
“Neither have I.”
You smiled excitedly, “Just like the pumpkins at Halloween. Sounds like a new tradition to me.”
“Only if we get one, I will not be strapping more than one Christmas tree to the car.”
You pouted, “But what about a small one for Jack’s room?”
Aaron shook his head with a small laugh, “Okay. No more than two Christmas trees.”
“Ha. You’re too easy Aaron.” You teased.
“Only when it comes to you and Jack.”
You smiled happily at him, before leaning forward and lying your head onto his shoulder. Aaron smiled and pressed a kiss to your head before he pulled you a little tighter against him. You continued to dance slowly to the music, as the party began to slowly disperse. You embraced each other’s company for a few more songs before leaving the party. Your thoughts and hearts full of each other, and the new traditions you would be starting together.
xx End xx
I know it's pretty short, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.
Please consider reblogging or liking as well!
And if you'd like to be added to my General, Criminal Minds, or Aaron taglist, let me know!
#Aaron Hotchner#Criminal Minds#Aaron Hotchner x Reader#Aaron Hotchner/Reader#Criminal Minds reader insert#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x you#hotch x reader#hotch/reader#criminal minds oneshot#oneshot#one shot#criminal minds one shot#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner oneshot#christmas 2021#12 days of chritmas#day nine#fluff#cute#christmas party#criminal minds christmas#drabble#criminal minds drabble
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The Intern (Loki Oneshot)
Summary: Loki takes an interest in the latest of a long line of Stark’s interns.
Pairing: Loki x Reader (Can be read as platonic, if preferred)
Word Count: 2,809
Disclaimers/Warnings: None. Just a bit of fluff.
A/N: This wound up turning into something entirely different from the original concept. Just kinda went with what felt right. Also trying desperately to remember working with an Arduino board to make this at least semi-accurate.
Masterlist
Loki traipsed aimlessly through the Tower, his overly-friendly insomnia having kept him up past four in the morning again. Nothing seemed to help him sleep and he constantly grew bored laying around in his room waiting for exhaustion to overtake him. Wandering about seemed as good as anything. Sometimes he would come across something interesting. It seems now would be that time.
He rounded the corner and found himself gazing through the wall-length windows of Tony Stark’s lab. The armor-less Iron Man was passed out in a chair, head haphazardly lolling on a table. Usually, he was still working and would be until at least seven a.m. before Pepper would literally drag him to bed.
Movement at the other end of the room caught his eye. There you were, pulling a blanket out of the cupboard. You crossed the lab and placed the well-used cloth over Stark’s shoulders before returning to your work. Sliding your safety glasses on, you put all your focus into soldering some wires to a board.
What in the nine realms were you doing here at this hour? The sun hadn’t even reached the horizon yet. None of his previous interns ever started their days before nine. Albeit, they had barely lasted a week while you broke a record at just over a month, but the point still stood. Why were you here?
“Are you just going to stand there like a creeper, Loki, or are you going to come in and hang out?” you called out, not even bothering to tear your eyes away from the wiring.
Well, this excursion could prove to be interesting. Loki slithered through the doorway to stand opposite of you at your table.
“So what are you doing up this early?” you murmured. If it weren’t for you glancing up at him, someone may have thought it was more of a question for yourself.
Loki huffed a laugh. “I could ask you the same question.”
That elicited a quirky smile from you. “Woke up way before my alarm and couldn’t fall back asleep. Figured I’d start my day early.” You gestured toward Stark with the soldering iron. “This one over here is pretty lenient on the hours.”
“I would hope so,” Loki chuckled, “considering his own schedule.”
“A schedule that consists of planned energy drink breaks. Definitely one of the more interesting employers out there.”
“I suppose you could say that,” he mumbled, leaning heavily on his forearms propped on the table.
You set down the soldering iron in its stand and shut if off. “So I answered your question. How about you?”
“I simply could not sleep,” he nonchalantly replied.
“Hmm...” you hummed. “Lemme guess. A member of Insomniacs Anonymous?”
His chuckle reverberated through the room. This was probably one of the reasons Stark kept you around. You certainly had a particular snarky confident air about you.
Yet the corners of your mouth suddenly hung low and your brow scrunched together. “It’s more than that, isn’t it?”
“Pardon?” He was confused at your change in demeanor.
“It’s not as simple as you couldn’t sleep. There’s more to it.”
Loki’s lips parted in astonishment. Here you were in your first true encounter with him and you read him like an open book. What had you been told?
“I won’t make you say anything.” You held your hands up in a placating manner. “You probably don’t want to, and that’s okay. However.” You grabbed the notepad next to you and scribbled something on it, ripping off the paper and sliding it towards him. “If you’re ever bored and I’m not here, you can text me. I’ll probably answer.”
He reluctantly took the note that had your number written on it. “I cannot say I am very adept with these cellular devices.”
“Pretty sure you’re clever enough to figure it out,” you grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “But seriously, no pressure. The offer is always out there.”
“Wha?!” Stark snorted himself awake, his eyes shooting around wildly. “Rudolf? What’re you doing here?” He eyed Loki suspiciously. “You’re not going to scare away my intern, are you? That’s my job.”
You laughed, keeping Loki from spitting a venomous retort. “Good luck with that. You’ll have to try a lot harder if that’s what you’re going for, Stark.”
“Obviously. You haven’t run off yet. I’m surprised.” He took the blanket that was wrapped around him and began folding it. “Pleasantly surprised.”
“Sure, sure!” You waved him off.
Stark looked at his watch and swiped a hand through his purposely messy bed head. “It’s that time already. I better get breakfast before Pepper finds me... Alright!” He clapped. “Both of you, let’s go! Time for grub!”
Loki’s eyebrows shot up across his forehead. Was Stark actually having him join the two of you for breakfast?
“Yes, you too, Reindeer Games! One, I don’t want you in the lab alone.” That earned him Loki’s scowl. “Two, you seem to be behaving, so why not have you eat with us.”
You nudged Stark’s arm while shooting Loki an inconspicuous wink. “Awww, look at you! Already getting into Dad Mode and little Morgan hasn’t even entered the world yet.”
He nudged you back. “Yeah, yeah, yeah! Now come on. I’m starving!”
You continued to tease him as you followed him out of the lab with Loki close behind.
Loki lay in bed a few nights later, lost in thought. He could not get you out of his head. You had spoken with him like you would anyone else, deflected and stood up for him despite hardly knowing him. In the few years since he had been thrown to Midgard as punishment, Thor was the only one to show him a sliver of kindness, but even he held some hesitation. You did not. Your earlier interaction was genuine. He wasn’t sure what to make of it all.
In his perpetual deliberation, he had avoided the lab since that morning. Not that he didn’t like you. It was the uncertainty that kept him away, but that wouldn’t last much longer.
His phone settled lax in his hand, your name illuminating the screen. You had been right about him being able to learn how to text. Now it was a matter of completing the action. Tossing the phone to his other hand, he glared at the bright screen. His message had already been written. All he had to do was select “Send”. The clock at the top of the screen read two a.m. Surely, you would be asleep... But what if you weren’t?
With a huff, he pinched his eyes shut and hit the button, the swooshing sound seemingly echoing off the walls. The following silence was deafening. Luckily for him, the reply swoosh fell inline shortly after.
You: Hey, Loki. Can’t sleep?
Loki: How did you know who this was without me saying?
You: I can’t think of anyone else who would text me at this hour. ;)
Loki: I apologize if I woke you.
You: Nah. Already up. Trouble staying asleep. So what’re you up to?
Loki: Texting you.
You: Other than that, Mischief
Loki: Thinking.
You: Yeah? About what?
Loki: Possibly meandering through the Tower, again.
You: Liar ;)
Loki: Pardon?
You: You were obviously thinking about me.
Loki: What makes you say that?
You: You had to be. At least in the context that it would be better to text me than exploring.
Loki: Fair enough. Now, how do you know I am not planning to choose both?
You: You got me there.
—
Loki met you at the lab later that morning. The familiar sight of Stark was passed out, snuggling his face to a countertop, greeted you both.
Shaking your head, you huffed a laugh as you passed through the doorway. “Can’t really reprimand him when my sleep schedule is just as bad.”
Loki’s lips curled into a light smirk but didn���t speak a word lest Stark awaken and force him to leave. Despite your two hour texting session, he had been looking forward to joining you here.
“Thanks for meeting me here, by the way,” you called out to him as still stood just at the edge of the lab. “A little company while working is kind of nice. Gets too quiet when Stark finally shuts down.”
Taking a seat across from you, Loki quirks an eyebrow. “Would that not be considered a blessing?”
You stifled a chuckle as you flipped on the soldering iron and pulled out what roughly looked like a vambrace. The board you had been working on previously was molded to the shape. “If that happened by the end of my workday, yes. This early in the morning? Not so much. It’s boring if not a little eerie.”
“I see... So I am only here for your entertainment,” he feigned offense.
You gasped dramatically, “Me? Never!”
Laughing with you, Loki made himself a bit more comfortable as he watched you work. At the moment, you were adding tiny capacitors and securing them into place.
“If I may, what are you trying to accomplish?”
“Well,” you started, glancing up at him. “It’s a new piece of armor. Other than that, I technically shouldn’t say much else.”
“Right... Classified information?”
There was a twinkle of mischief in your eyes as you looked at him again. “It is a secret, but nothing quite as official as that.”
Loki leaned across the tabletop, supporting his chin in his hand. “So there is no harm in you revealing your project,” he tested.
“Harm? No. However, there will be disappointment on my end if you figure it out.”
“I accept this challenge,” he grinned playfully.
You smirked back,“As you wish, Mischief. I won’t make this easy for you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Darling.”
The next several weeks chaotically blurred together. At first, you allowed Loki to observe your project as you worked on it. Once the vambrace began to take on a more unique form, you were hiding it in the mornings, opting to take on a different assignment when he was in the room. The design was strikingly Asgardian, leading him to believe the new armor was for Thor. He just needed to figure out what it did. He spoke with his brother on multiple occasions but was unable to glean anything from him. Either he had no clue or suddenly learned to lie well enough to fool Loki, the latter highly doubtful.
Apart from politely harassing you via text, Loki took to locating your hiding spots, something that proved difficult when the lab was almost always occupied by you, Stark or Banner at varying times. Stark was helping you keep this little secret, a sparkle in his eyes whenever he shooed Loki from the room when he was caught investigating. Even Banner was in on it, albeit reluctantly.
Then there was that Doctor Strange who was showing up every few days, joining you all in the lab much to Loki’s chagrin. By that point, Stark had banned him from the entire floor. The project must have been coming to a close if you all were trying to cover it up so desperately. But why Strange? Was he imbuing the vambrace with magic to protect Thor better? (Not that he really needed it.) His curiosity was certainly getting the better of him, going so far as to shape-shift as one of you three when Strange wasn’t around to get into the room. Somehow, Friday always knew and alerted the lab’s occupants who would send him back to the elevator.
It was early one morning as he was perusing the contents of the shared kitchen that you initiated contact with him. He was surprised since he had been the one to text you first lately to see if you would spill your secret.
You: Hey. Can you stop by the lab?
Loki: Oh? I thought I was banned.
You: Lifted as of a few minutes ago. So?
Loki: I suppose I might be able to grace you with my presence.
You: So kind of you, my King ;)
His heart skipped a beat at you calling him “your King”. You only used it in a teasing fashion when he was acting high and mighty. Even then, it still flustered him.
Loki made his way to the elevator, deeming it a bit devious to take the long way to the lab. You had made him wait all this time. It was your turn.
The doors reopened on the lab floor, revealing that his ploy to annoy had worked. You were leaned against the wall next to the elevator, waiting for his arrival.
“Finally! Come on!”
You audaciously grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the room with an impatient grin. Stopping him near your normal workstation, you demanded he close his eyes.
“Excuse me?” he responded incredulously, ripping his arm from your grasp.
“Please, Loki...” Your pleading eyes grew larger as you pouted at him.
Stark groaned, “Just do it, Reindeer Games, or I’ll cover them for you.”
Loki’s lips reared into a snarl as he glared at the billionaire before relenting and clenching his eyelids shut. Norns, how he hated those nicknames.
“Okay!” Excitement laced your voice. “Would you hold up your dominant hand?”
“Making more demands, Darling?”
“I did ask nicely this time.”
“That you did,” he chuckled a complied, holding out a hand.
“Perfect!”
He felt a metallic weight placed on his forearm before it was clasped together with a comfortable tightness.
“Okay. You can look now!”
The sight of the vambrace on his arm left Loki’s mouth agape. The main black of the piece was lined with gold Asgardian knot designs with runes placed in a handful of the empty spaces. Near his wrist, an artificial emerald was embedded in the armor. If he had to be completely honest, the aesthetics could rival much of the armor back home.
“Well, Kid. It looks like you rendered him speechless.” Stark nudged your arm.
Loki’s gaze shot up to the two of you. Stark was leaning against the workstation while you had hoisted yourself to sit atop it, nothing but grins on either of your faces.
“What is this-”
You cut him off, “It’s for you. We noticed after some of your missions where you had to use your seiðr more than usual, you’d end up exhausted before getting back to the Quinjet. The new armor should help with that. It’s supposed to amplify your magic without draining you.”
Stark shoved you lightheartedly, again. “The kid noticed. Told ‘em if they could come up with something that could work, I’d give whatever resources needed for the project.”
“So what do you think? I mean we still need to undergo more testing and calibrations before you can use it in the field, but-”
“You made this?” Loki locked barely tearing eyes with you. “For me?”
“Yup! Kid designed the whole thing!” Stark kept you from answering. “Minus the bits we had to bring Strange in for the wizard-y things, this was a solo run. Did a pretty good job. Not sure I could have done much better.”
“Stark...” you grumbled, clearly not used to the praise.
“This is...” Loki tore his gaze away back to the vambrace. “I don’t... I don’t know what to say.” His voice was just loud enough for you to hear.
“A ‘thank you’ would be a good start. Now maybe this little intern will get more sleep,” Stark blundered before checking his watch. “Well, it’s about time for my morning scolding. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me!”
With that he whisked himself out of the room and to the elevator, leaving you and Loki in a terribly awkward silence.
“Hey...” you started. “If you don’t like it, we can scrap the design. It’s not a big deal-”
“Thank you.” His pupils were filled with a sincere gratefulness that few had ever seen before. “This is... This is simply splendid.”
“Really? You’re not just saying that?”
Loki spun on his heel to fully face you, his hands coming to rest on the countertop on either side of you. “I mean it, Darling. This... No one has ever done something like this for me before. I would be honored to be your test subject,” he ended with a smirk.
“Well, if that’s the case,” you grinned right back at him, “I’d say let’s get some breakfast first. There will be plenty of time to optimize the vambrace later.”
Pulling back enough to release you from his cage of arms, he gestured for you to lead the way. “After you,” he breathed.
Hopping down from the table, you held out a hand for him. Hesitantly, Loki took it while running a thumb over your knuckles as you pulled him to the elevator with you.
#loki x reader#loki x you#loki fanfic#loki imagine#loki marvel#loki friggason#loki odinson#loki laufeyson#loki fanfiction#marvel avengers#loki of asgard#loki fluff#avengers#the avengers#tony stark#iron man#pepper potts#bruce banner#doctor strange#thor odinson#thor marvel#fanfiction#fanfic#marvel fanfiction
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I would for sure read a continuation of the birth photographer fic if you feel comfortable writing it/have time! Xx
a/n sorry I kinda combined these two together, I hope this is okay!! sorry ive taken so long too!! my requests are still open, just going a bit slowly :)
summary: literally just birth + harry
dad!tom x reader
warnings: childbirth, mentions of fainting, squint for suggestiveness too
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
“Your doing so good darling, just keep breathin’ like that for me, in-out-in-out”
That had pretty much been the soundtrack to your last 3 hours. And yes it was MORE annoying than it sounds. Of course, that’s also ignoring the insane amount of pain your uterus was putting you through - as it spasmed while the little bug in there was wriggling away. Giving birth was not easy but giving birth with a husband-turned-midwife wittering away in your ear? Un-fucking-bearable.
“Tom…. I love you but..” Everything had really been starting to ramp up in the last half an hour, you were a panting sweaty mess now. “Please… SHUT THE FUCK UP” Tom would’ve recoiled completely away from the bed because of your tone, if it wasn’t for the absolute death grip you had his right hand in. Instead, Tom settled for straightening straight up and staring helplessly and dejectedly across the room at his brother - who of course was trying to hold back laughter, knowing it would be very easy for you to switch your target to him.
Clearly it wasn’t a social call to the hospital, Harry was here under the premise of taking photos when the baby arrives for Tom; but really to stop his brother from having his own breakdown - as commissioned by you. Lets just say, however scared and mortified Harry was of this ‘event’ he was taking a lot of enjoyment from how his brother was acting currently.
“It’s okay sir, if you were pushing a watermelon out of hole that normally was the size of a whiteboard marker, I’m sure you’d be a bit tetchy too.” That lady was your favourite midwife and in a lull between the sets of contractions, you actually managed a laugh. Wide-eyed, Tom just nodded jerkily, murmuring some sort of agreement. It was at this point a flash of light reverberated around the whole room, causing you to breathlessly laugh, Harry’s face informing you the picture he just got of Tom was priceless.
The laughter didn’t last long though, the next contraction had you bearing down on the bed, face contorted in pain as you sucked desperately on the gas and air tube.
“Okay Y/n I think we might be getting there, let me call the senior midwifes in okay?” The midwife had your legs hiked apart, a blanket attempting to cover your modesty - but at this point she was basically sticking her face in your noon. Modesty was out the window.
“Already?” Tom was shocked to say the least, from all his reading and research he’d learnt that the average labour time was more like 5 hours. Lets just say, Tom never exceled in school, never much enjoyed reading - which made the hours of highlighting baby books and pregnancy leaflets all the more extraordinary.
“Babies don’t stick to the script sir.” You could tell she was proud of the pun there, because you know, Tom’s a moviestar. “Professional improvisers, the lot of them.”
The cream walls of the hospital room very quickly filled with more and more people - Harry staying like a fly on the wall, now nervously biting his nails as he watched an obscene amount of medical people all take their turn oggling his sister-in-law’s bits. This was a weird ass situation.
Almost immediately it was at the point the midwifes were telling you to push, which after 9 months of holding a baby in (as well as your ill functioning bladder) sounded like an absolute dream. But it was also absolutely terrifying and exciting and horrifying all wrapped in one. Naturally then, after nodding hesitantly at the midwife between your legs, you’d craned your neck across to tom .You might’ve just told him off, for trying to encourage you, but now? You needed his encouragement.
What met you though, was his face completely drained of colour, mouth hanging slightly open as he hadn’t moved - still staring intently at the midwife. She followed your gaze, only taking half a second to survey the situation before knowingly smiling.
“Can we get a bit of help for dad please?” Immediately one of the more junior looking midwives was directing (pushing) Tom into the chair next to the floor. Suddenly actually concerned, you looked with wide eyes to the lady between your legs, who you felt bad for not remembering her name. With a comforting squeeze of your ankle she reassured you he’d be right as rain after a few moments of having his head between his knees. Also sensing you needed your support, she arched up, beckoning over to Harry who had an equally bemused look on his face.
“No - I-um I’m not.” His squeaking protests were interrupted by a large scream on your part, as another contraction tore through your body. Helplessly Harry glanced between Tom, who was still hunched over on a chair with a nurse squatted infront of him; and you, writhing around on the mechanical bed. He didn’t hesitate then, in jumping right to your side, allowing you to start crushing all the bones in his hand too.
And then it was all happening, a blur of activity and screams. It didnt take long for Tom to pull himself together and then you were flanked on both sides by Holland boys - both giving cheesy encouraging words (which you would’ve again told them to shut the fuck up for, if you’d been able to), Tom also stroking the top of your head. He found it pretty impossible, watching the woman that he loved go through such immense pain - especially when he was technically half the cause. Well… actually more that that, it had been him who had been… well shall we say *needy* those nine months ago.
“Okay Y/n the heads crowning, I know you’re tired but we need a few more big pushes, can you do that for me?”
Merely 5 minutes later and the most beautiful sound in the world echoed through the 4 creams walls. You were absolutely spent, eyes closed as you panted, knowing tears were flooding down your face too. Immediately though, familiar hands cupped both sides of your face, a forehead resting on yours.
“You did it Y/n/n.” His eyes were glassy, watering and red and the way he scoffed a smile in disbelief had you mirroring him exactly.
“We did it.” Your voice was hoarse and scratchy from all the yells of pain but it didnt matter. The midwife calling you by the name ‘mum and dad’ got both of your attention, a title you’d no doubt start getting used to.
“Meet your beautiful baby girl.” Another choked sob escaped your throat, as this little roughly wrapped up pink alien looking thing was placed onto your chest. Both you and Tom just gazed at her, completely transfixed at the way she wriggled her head slightly, nuzzling into your chest. Tom gently hovered his palm against her little head, while you pressed down the blanket gently, just so you could see all her features.
Then a flash echoed around the otherwise silent room, making you all look up to Harry who was gritting his teeth in apology. “Do mum and dad want to smile for the camera?” The question was posed so hesitantly and quietly, really it wasn’t funny either. That didn’t stop you and Tom both pulling out the biggest grins and chuckling away, allowing Harry to capture the perfect moment. Being referred to as mum and dad - it was bloody comical.
“You gonna tell me her name now?” You looked from Harry to Tom, nodding in approval for him to spill the beans.
“Amber. She’s Amber.”
You’d squabbled for months before ending on Amber. It had been a long relentless process, Tom claiming that your baby might just have ended up as ‘as yet untitled’ which you and your hormonal state had stormed out at. It hadn’t taken much to forgive it though, Tom had long since worked out that Ben and Jerrys was the way to your heart.
The nurses took Amber back to do some tests, properly cleaning both you and her up and after that everything was weirdly calm. Harry had left to give the twothree of you a moment alone and Tom was about to do his turn of skin to skin.
“This really is it isn’t it?” He murmured, whilst carefully scooping Amber from your arms.
“Mhmmm… your stuck with two girls who’ll go psycho on you without a moments notice.” He seemed to accept it though, just nodding in response.
“And I still can’t bloody wait.” His eyes penetrating deep into you, had you blushing like a nervous teenage girl. “ ‘m still so proud of you, you grew this little human.”
“Your not allowed to call her little because you didnt have the ‘little’ thing rip your insides apart.”
“Hey! I’m upset about it too! Was like I had to watch my favourite pub being burnt down.” Of course, trust Tom to make a dirty joke at a time like this.
“Don’t kid yourself, you weren’t watching, too busy fainting.”
“I didn’t actually faint!” This time he protested a bit too loudly, causing Amber to mewl a little and bury her head into the crook of her Dads arm. “I think Ambers just told you to shut it too.”
“You annoy the hell out of…” Your grumbling was interrupted by an impressive, ear-splitting yawn. “ You annoy the hell out of me.”
“But you love me?” He sing-songed, now back to a hushed tone.
“I hope so, otherwise we’re in a bit of trouble.” He scoffed, but nodded his head, taking the hand that wasn’t cradling Amber to tuck some sweaty, knotted strands of hair behind your ear.
“I do owe Harry though, he was at least able to stay on his feet.”
“He was a better birthing partner than you too, much much less condescending and annoying.” You sniggered, making Tom pout once again, only wiping the look off his face when you yawned again, rubbing an your eye like a toddler would.
“If your done insulting me… get some rest love, I got you.” All you did was nod, with a small groan (because below your waist still hurt like a bitch) rolled over so you could fall asleep to sight of the two of them.
“Got you both, my two beautiful girls.”
hope you enjoyed, would love to hear any thoughts <3
taglist: @hollandfanficlove @hallecarey1
#tom holland x reader#tom holland#tom holland fluff#Tom Holland blurb#dad!tom#tom holland imagine#harry holland
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roots.
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
a joyful future fic
a/n: another one from 2026! aaron retires from federal service this year, at 57.
words: 2.4k
warnings: kids!, missing haley hotchner hours, language
summary: “Every day the increasing weight of years admonishes me more and more, that the shade of retirement is as necessary to me as it will be welcome.” ― George Washington, Farewell Address. au!october 2026
masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!
SSA Mallory Kagan asks you to outline your career with the FBI - purposefully using your first name instead of using your title. It keeps the students guessing and paying attention.
Plus, the payoff when they figure out who you are is the best part of the whole lecture.
“My career at the FBI is more like a big tree than a path or a journey.”
You look out over the classroom - blue shirts abound - and take a deep breath to center yourself.
You’re used to giving this lecture with Aaron, but this is your first fall without him, which also means that this is the first academy class who won’t know him in person.
They’ll only hear tell of the legend SSA Aaron Hotchner was stabbed nine times, lost his wife to a serial killer, and kept going. You know they’ll hear stories about his severity, his general lack of sunniness, hear rumors about the way he laughs with his children, his wife, and nobody else.
You know the older agents tell stories about you, too. They say you ‘tamed’ Hotch, made him a little nicer. They might even say they’ve seen him smile at you, or they’ve seen you give him hell in public.
Aaron Hotchner is practically a myth, now, only supported by your reputation, tall tales from academy classes of yesteryear, and his own legacy.
That retired bastard currently sits in your house with your kids, right on his fine behind, very likely falling into boredom-addled insanity.
“Everything that I am - a parent, a wife, a friend, and an agent - is because of my work with the Behavioral Analysis Unit over the past nineteen years. My unit is my family, and I can’t get rid of them. Just like our own families, we love to hate each other.”
The room laughs, and you know you have them hooked.
“Jokes aside, I would encourage you to get to know your colleagues. Each relationship I built within my unit put a root into the ground, made the proverbial tree stronger - to extend the metaphor. I work with very few of the same people I started with, but I feel as steady and supported as I did back when they called us ‘The Elite Eight.’”
You chuckle a little, clicking through your introductory slide to showcase a photo of the BAU in 2012. You point to each of them as you speak.
“SSA Emily Prentiss, current unit chief of the Behavior Analysis unit and former head of the Interpol London office, responsible for taking down one of the most prolific international arms dealers in modern history.”
The room is quiet, a little awestruck, so you add, “She’s a bit of a big deal.”
They laugh.
“SSA Derek Morgan - you’ll probably hear stories about how he survived the Boston bombing with SSA Gideon in 2005, but don’t worry. He wasn’t there. He was with his momma in Chicago, celebrating her birthday.”
Another laugh.
You’ve honed this routine over the last five years, knowing what to add, when to pause, what to cut if the students lose interest.
“That said, SSA Morgan is one of the best profilers I’ve had the pleasure of working with. Today, he’s a consultant for DC Metro SWAT and is otherwise retired.”
Continuing down the line, “SSA Jennifer Jareau - JJ. Former communications liaison for the BAU, State Department, and DoD. She currently serves with the BAU as a profiler. If any of you are interested in PR or media relations, find an opportunity to speak with her about her experience. Her husband, Will, is a detective with the DC Metro Police and has plenty of stories of his own.”
A student raises a hand, and you give her the go-ahead.
“Sorry for interrupting -“
You stop her. “You didn’t interrupt. You raised your hand. Don’t apologize for taking up space.”
She smiles a little. “Okay. Um, I’m curious. How many people in your unit are married and/or have children? My understanding is that the work-life balance can be difficult in heavy-travel positions like the BAU.”
“It can absolutely be a challenge.” You look back at the photo. “In the course of my career, six of my colleagues have been or were already married and all of them went on to have children.”
“And you?”
You laugh a little, forgetting you’re alone up here. “Right.”
The class laughs, and you point yourself out on the slide.
“I still had my maiden name when this photo was taken, but now I share five children and a last name with SSA Aaron Hotchner.” You throw your thumb at Aaron’s likeness on the screen again for good measure.
You check in with SSA Kagan to make sure you can share everything you usually do with Aaron present - your marriage was often the punchline of your lectures, letting you toe the line of humor a little farther than you normally would.
She nods, a little smile on her face.
“While I wouldn’t necessarily recommend dating your unit chief or marrying your section chief -“ you pause, holding your hands up in surrender to the echo of laughter “- even if they are the same person - you can certainly find the best people without looking too hard.”
Hands shoot up into the air, but that always happens. It’s around this time people start asking the good questions. The people from their course materials and the people in front of them start to link together.
They also figure out that you’re Agent Hotchner. That Agent Hotchner - the one married to the Agent Hotchner.
You look out over the crowd again. “I know you have lots of questions, and I’m happy to confirm or deny any rumors about myself or my family, but,” you pause for dramatic effect. “Hold them for now - you’ll want to know the players before you ask the questions.”
Hands drop, but pens start moving. You continue down the line, skipping over Aaron.
“SSA David Rossi, a founding member of the BAU in the late 1980’s. He worked closely with SSA Jason Gideon, developing a database that we use to this day - one that outlines signatures, modus operandi, and victimology of modern serial killers. SSA Rossi is also well-known for his books - ten of them, in fact, that cover what we do in a kind of…”
You search for a word.
“Conversational format. He retired a couple of years ago, and is a full-time grandpa to all 16 of the BAU offspring.”
A few scattered chuckles pass through the room.
“And then we have Dr. Spencer Reid - I could enumerate his degrees, but we don’t have that kind of time. He’s the smartest person I’ve ever met, and remains an asset to the BAU in the field today.”
You click to another slide - a photo of all of you taken a few weeks ago.
“SSA Matthew Simmons - retired from the United States Army and former member of the FBI International Response Team, or IRT. He’s been with the BAU for ten years now. Like Dr. Reid and SSA Prentiss, he knows multiple languages - which comes in handy.” You look out and raise your eyebrows. “I hope all of you did well in your Spanish classes in high school - you might need it.”
Another laugh.
“SSA Luke Alvez and Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia are another pair that come from, shall we say, nontraditional backgrounds. While Garcia is no longer with the BAU, SSA Alvez is also celebrating his tenth year with us this fall.”
A student raises his hand, and you call on him.
“Isn’t Penelope Garcia the hacker known as The Black Queen? I learned about her work when I was at MIT.”
You snort. “Nice way to slip in you went to MIT, there, bud.” You pause, waiting for the ruckus to die down as the student in question turns bright red. “But yes. Her experience was invaluable to our team. Just to keep up, we stole an analyst from the NSA to replace her - nobody else could cut the mustard.”
You look back, stepping forward and pacing as you speak.”And finally, Dr. Tara Lewis. Formerly working in the FBI Counsel’s office as a forensic psychologist, she joined our team on cases where specific pathologies were in play before becoming a full-fledged member of our team.
“So, as you can see, there are so many varied qualities we look for in profilers, and your own path will be informed by the skills you develop, your temperament, and your dedication to the work itself. There’s no right way to be an agent, and when you leave the academy in five weeks, the whole world of the bureau will be open to you.”
Clicking back to your introductory slide, you turn to the front of the classroom. “I know all my colleagues well enough to take any questions you may have about their careers and paths through the bureau. For any questions I can’t answer, I am happy to direct you to them with the understanding they may not get back to you due to our caseload. I’ll take your questions now.”
Hands shoot up into the air, and you specifically call on the student in the back - the one you know has a question about Aaron.
“So, when you say SSA Aaron Hotchner, you mean the same one that worked the Boston Reaper case for ten years?”
SSA Kagan checks in with you, ready to shut him down, but you call her off.
“That’s right. SSAs Jareau, Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi, Dr. Reid, Miss Garcia, and I worked that case in its final year as well.”
“I have a follow-up if that’s okay.”
You tacitly give him leave to continue.
“How do you handle cases that get that… close? I know there were considerable...” He searches for the right word. “...challenges. How did you guys deal with that?”
Good question.
Returning to the podium, you lean heavily against it, lacing your fingers in front of you. “You’ve all read the Reaper case file, yes? It’s still included in the MCRT training courses?”
There are nods around the room, but you check in with Kagan anyway.
“The declassified version is covered,” She says. “They’re familiar with the full scope of the case.”
“Okay. So, as you all know…”
You remind them what happened, from 1998 to 2009, finally landing where the students want you. “And on November 23rd, 2009, Haley Reneé Hotchner was George Foyet’s 40th and final victim. She was thirty-nine years old. And she was my friend.”
The room is dead silent, all eyes on you, somber and attentive.
“The case was personal. It became personal because Foyet forced our hands. He attacked Agent Hotchner in his home and then targeted his family. So, the question is, how do we deal with that? Right?”
Even Kagan’s watching you closely. It’s the first time you’ve covered this case without the rest of your team. In your joint lectures with Aaron, the case is off-limits for questions. She’s never heard you tell the story in your own words.
You take a breath. “And the answer is… you don’t.”
There are some confused faces, so you elaborate. “There isn’t anything you can do to push the case away from you - that’s how people get hurt. In the meantime, you make adjustments. Agent Hotchner placed Agent Morgan in an interim unit chief position until the case was over, for the sake of his health and sanity. We chased down every lead, understanding that the faster we caught Foyet, the faster Haley and Jack, Agent Hotchner’s son, could come home.”
A young woman in front tentatively raises a hand, and you open a hand to her. “Yes?”
“What happened, you know, after?”
“We moved on as best we could. Going back to my original point -”
You leave the podium and take your place in the center of the floor again.
“- the trust you have in the people you work with can carry you through a great many things. And not all of you will see horror every day - but some of you will.”
You pause for a moment, hoping this is the part that really sinks in for them.
“Always have something to come home to. Always have something or someone that brings you peace, that can take you away from the work.”
+++
You set your things down and walk through the door, immediately accosted by two almost-eight-year-olds and their over-eager little brother.
“Momma!”
You haul Elliot onto your hip and kiss Sophia’s head as Caroline burrows into your side. “Hi, darlings! Did you already have dinner?”
Sophia moves to answer, but Aaron’s voice shoots around the corner. “Yes!”
With a smile, you seek him out, dragging the girls along with you. Lo and behold, Aaron’s at the sink, washing dishes. Isaac’s supervising - sitting on the counter, swinging his feet.
Aaron gets a kiss on the cheek from you as you pass and he turns over his shoulder, chasing you until you peck him on the lips, Elliot squished between you. Your son squirms, and you set him on the ground to chase after his sisters. Isaac hops off the counter likely off to investigate the happenings before retreating to his room for the rest of the evening.
For once, you’re left alone.
“How was your lecture?”
Your arms free, you wrap around him and rest your full weight against his chest as he backs himself into the counter. “Went well. Missed you, though.”
The corner of his mouth tips up. “Did they ask about Foyet?”
“Mhmm. It was a good segue into trusting your team and building each other up, knowing when to step back, etcetera.”
He nods. “Good way to bring it back around. How’s Kagan?”
“She’s good, loving it, as always.”
“Think she’s ever gonna retire?” He asks, tucking into your neck.
You laugh as he presses kisses to the underside of your jaw. “Probably not.”
Aaron leans back to look at you, bringing his hand to your face to brush over your cheekbone. “Are you ever gonna retire?”
“Probably not.”
“What if,” he says, his hands slipping into your back pockets, “you retired in…” He does the math in his head. “Thirteen-ish years and I make it worth your while.”
“Oh yeah? Worth my while? And you’ll be, what, a hundred years old?”
His eyes roll so hard you’re sure he could see his own brain. You pull him down for a kiss, but it doesn’t stop him from mumbling, “Give me a fuckin’ break,” against your mouth.
“Never.”
+++
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#aaron hotchner x reader#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#tali talks cm#tali writes fanfiction#a joyful future#a joyful future fanfic
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Nine Little Letters
Genre: College AU, Fake Dating AU, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before AU
Inspired By: This graphic made by @rcse-tvler
Pairing: EXO x Reader
Summary: Just when you thought life was done shoving you down, it got much, much worse. After finding out that your latest crush was already in a relationship, you did what you always did when emotions ran high: you wrote a letter. Signed and sealed, you put it away with the eight other letters you’d written to past one-sided loves, never to be seen again. That is, until a mix up accidentally sends those letters out to their respective recipients and you find yourself in the middle of one confusing web of love. With fake relationships, insecurities, and revelations swirling around, things are bound to get a little messy.
Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11
This was the worst kind of humiliation. Standing there on the sidewalk staring open-mouthed at the one person you were excited to see today, you were crumbling into a million pieces. And no one even noticed. That was what made this humiliation so bad; there was no one to witness it. You were breaking and no one cared.
You should have known better, really. This morning was going too well. You had woken up on time, had a delicious, filling breakfast, and had managed to put an outfit together worthy of any Pinterest board. Your confidence was through the roof and you were going to do the one thing in your life you swore you would never do.
You were going to confess to your crush.
Signing up for math tutoring was the last thing you wanted to do. Who in the world wanted to spend their valuable free time learning more about equations and algorithms? But you needed to pass this class. It was the second time you’d taken college algebra and the thought of taking it a third time made you want to crawl under your bed. So, you buckled down and took the walk of shame into the math lab. (Yes, that was an exaggeration. Everyone knows there is no shame in getting help. Didn’t mean you had to like it.) When you got the call from your assigned tutor, you ignored it. You didn’t like talking on the phone to anyone let alone a number you didn’t recognize. No voicemail was left. Then a text came through.
Hi, (y/n)! This Kim Junmyeon! I’ve been assigned as your math tutor. When you get a chance, let me know when you’re free so we can create a schedule that works for you. Have a great day!
You waited an appropriate amount of time before replying. So, an hour and half later, you texted him your schedule and made a plan to meet up in the library the following Thursday. You marked that day on your calendar with exactly zero enthusiasm. In your head, this Kim Junmyeon was the cliché nerd from movies: dorky glasses, snort-like laugh, and clothes that looked better on a grandfather. Oh, boy were you so happy to be wrong.
Sitting down at one of the tables by the large, ceiling high windows, Junmyeon was nothing like you’d imagined. He had a sophisticated aura about him. He dressed nicely, a thin long-sleeved shirt over a patterned button down, the collar laid nicely over the top of the shirt, and was blessed with sharp, handsome features. You knew you were in trouble. But you didn’t care. You sat down at that table eagerly, ready to… learn.
For the past month and a half, you’d met Junmyeon twice a week to go over the lessons and work on the assignments. By some miracle, your grade was actually going up in the class. Somehow you were able to better comprehend the material and secretly fawn over your tutor simultaneously. At this point, you were sort of feigning how much you weren’t understanding to keep the tutoring sessions going. The nice thing about algebra, once you understood the basics, everything else built on top of it.
But today – today you had decided that you were going to step over the line from tutor and student into the realm of perhaps something more.
You liked Junmyeon. You liked his math puns and the way he scrunched his face when he thought hard about something. His lips would pucker whenever he lifted the sheet of paper to check over your work. Each time you met up with him your heart acted like it was in the middle of a NASCAR race and it was determined to win. You had it bad. This wasn’t the first time you’d had a crush like this, but you had set your mind on making this one different. This time, you wouldn’t hold it inside. You were going to be the brave one, the bold one. The fact that birds were tweeting as you rode your bike onto campus should have been a sign that things would only be downhill from there. Unfortunately, like the optimistic idiot, you took it as a positive instead.
After locking your bike up, you headed straight for the courtyard near the pond. Junmyeon had told you that he often spent his mornings there to finish up homework or to read a book (the fact that he read so much was another factor in your liking of him). In your head, he was all alone, flipping through a novel as he leaned against the trunk of a tree, looking like a prince taking a rest in the shade on a warm summer’s day. The water would be glistening in the background as a lovely, lighthearted melody played softly through the air. He would see you approach and smile that wide, brilliant smile. Your heart would skip as you sat down in the grass next to him and poured out your feelings. The daydream turned into a nightmare the second he came into view.
Junmyeon was not alone nor was he sitting under a tree with a book. He was on one of the benches, splayed out on the wooden beams with his head resting in the lap of a very pretty, more his league type of girl. She laughed as Junmyeon told a story. A delicate hand ran through his soft brown hair. Your heart fell to the ground, forming a crater at your feet.
Shoulders slumped and day ruined, you turned and headed for the student union. If today was going to suck like this, then you were going to sprinkle it with an overly sugary coffee drink. Preferably with extra chocolate drizzle. It helped - a little bit.
Your morning classes went by in a blur. You were certain you took notes, but none of the information sank in. Later you would have to transcribe your quick scribbles to a word document to help you study. You would learn the information then. By lunch, you were starting to peel yourself off the sidewalk of humiliation. Especially when the one person you could always rely on joined you for lunch.
“How did it go?”
You remained silent, continuously munching on the sandwich in your hands as your best friend sat down across from you at the small, two-person table near the middle of the cafeteria.
Baekhyun laughed his signature, SpongeBob-like laugh. “That bad, huh? I told you not to do it.”
“Technically, I didn’t do it,” you corrected. “He already has a girlfriend.”
“Ouch.”
You nodded. How could you not see this before? Did he mention having a girlfriend and you just blocked it out? Junmyeon and you talked casually between math problems, about your friends and fun things you liked to do on the weekends. He’d failed to mention one very important detail.
“Well,” Baekhyun reached over and plucked a potato chip off your plate and plopped it in his mouth, “at least you found out before you said something. I told you he wasn’t worth it.”
“Just because he has a girlfriend doesn’t mean he isn’t worth crushing on.”
“Okay. Whatever you say.”
You rolled your eyes at him. “You’re so much help.”
Ignoring your quip, Baekhyun snatched another chip. You smacked his hand, but all that managed to do was break off a few pieces, the crumbs falling to the table. Smiling proudly, Baekhyun popped the half-chip into his mouth. “So, are you just going to go home and write a letter?”
“Are you just going to go home and write a letter?” you mocked with a scrunched face.
Byun Baekhyun had been your best friend since the two of you had met in the first grade. He’d stolen your popsicle that your mother had packed as a special treat for your first full day of school. When he saw you start to cry, he broke off the piece he’d been sucking on and handed the rest back to you. There was a bit of a disagreement on the level of nice-ness that act achieved since it was your popsicle to begin with, but somehow it caused the two of you to be inseparable ever since. Being your best friend meant that he was privy to the more private parts of your life.
Like the letters.
Starting as young as ten years old, you’d developed a bit of a tradition when it came to your crushes. Emotions were hard to process, but you found them easier to work through if you thought about them and translated them into words. Those words would fly across the paper, transferring the feelings that made you both laugh and cry into the graphite that formed them. Not to mention, the act made you feel like the heroine in a rom-com. Certainly it was something that Meg Ryan or Rachel McAdams would do once they realized how they felt about the male lead.
The first letter you ever wrote was during your final year of ballet class. Dancing had been a part of your life since you were three, but a new passion had been discovered so you’d decided to quit after this last cluster of classes. A terrible decision, really. Because right after your mind was already made up, a new boy had joined the class.
Kim Jongin.
He had just moved into town after his father was promoted to a new position and had to transfer to headquarters. You’d never seen him at the park or the grocery store before. He was completely new. And beautiful.
He was blessed golden skin that glistened, shining brighter the longer he danced. And, oh, the way he danced. It was well beyond what anyone else could do. His movements were fluid, water-like, as if the very beat of the music were pulling and manipulating his limbs to convey what the notes had to say. Each move was a word and when he formed them together, they could make you smile or cry. And when he smiled… oh, his smile was like starlight. The kind of brightness that stayed in the sky even as the city lights flickered on. To this day, you’d never found one that could rival it. He was a dream that every composer coveted. So, what was your young heart to do?
Well, the movies told you to confess. But there was no way you could find the courage to do so, especially since you only saw him in class and you couldn’t confess in front of everyone. The only other option was to write it out; to write it out like Jane Austen pouring her heart out for Tom Lefroy.
Dear Jongin,
I’m not sure how to start this. Do I compliment you on your dancing? It’s nothing like I’ve seen before. Prima Donnas in the Russian Ballet would be jealous of you! But you probably hear that all the time. And about how handsome you are, even under all that hair. I can’t help but watch when you pull it back for class so you can see yourself in the mirror. Why can’t I look like that? I somehow ended up looking like a frizzy wet cat that just climbed out of the tub.
I guess what I’m trying to avoid saying is that… I like you. A lot. I like your laugh and your wide smile. I like how much you love music and how you interpret the melody with your moves. No one can freestyle like you! My heart does a dance of its own whenever I see you. I hope you don’t have anyone that you like, just so I can stand a chance. Would you ever think of me like that? If not, it’s okay. I just needed to tell you. Someday, you’ll be on stage dancing to an audience of thousands and I’ll be right there in the front row, cheering you on! Until then, I hope you always find happiness in what you love.
Love,
(y/n).
That sentence about watching him on stage made you cringe in hindsight. Cute for a ten-year-old, but a bit stalkerish. Luckily, though, you never gave it to him. You chickened out every time up until the last class. The idea of him opening it and reading right there in front of you was mortifying. So, then, you decided to mail it. The teacher gave you his address after you told her you wanted to invite him to your birthday party (it should be a little worrisome that a teacher was willing to pass on private information like that… perhaps it was because you were a kid). Three times you went to the mailbox to send the letter out and three times you ran back inside to hide it under your mattress.
That was the beginning of your weird little tradition. Though you never sent the letter to Jongin, you felt better having somewhat confessed your feelings and worked through them without the humiliation of actually… doing it. So, the next time you had a crush so overwhelming that you needed to get the feelings out, you wrote a letter. You even went all the way each time to address the envelope, giving the confession a sense of finality. There was no fear in them ever going out. Baekhyun was the only other one in the world who knew of their existence. At the current moment, eight were hidden in a drawer in your vanity. The way your fingers were itching, a ninth one was on the way.
“I might,” you finally replied.
Baekhyun leaned forward eagerly. “Can I read it when you’re done?”
“No!”
He snapped his fingers as he sat back in his chair. “Darn.”
“Why am I even friends with you?”
“Because I’m charming.”
There was no question in his voice. He one-hundred percent believed it. And… to be honest, he did have his moments. But that was all in the past. “Like a plank of wood.”
Shaking his head, Baekhyun rapped his hands on the table before standing up. “Alright, I’m going to class. Have fun with your pencil and imagination.” For emphasis on his stupid remark, he stole one last chip before walking off.
You finished off your sandwich in a bit of a rage. By the time you were finished, your mouth muscles were aching as if you’d spent several hours at the gym and it was jaw day.
You only had one class left for the afternoon. But it was algebra. How were you supposed to concentrate on functions when your sad attempt at getting into a relationship with your tutor failed so epically? Somehow you managed, though, and you packed up at the end of class with a new sort of determination. As you hopped on your bike and rode home, you thought over what you were going to write. You were so lost in your head that you hadn’t notice the car pulling out of your neighbor’s driveway, nearly hitting you before the driver hit their brakes.
“Shoot!”
You back peddled to break. Your heart thumped in your chest. No life memories flashed before your eyes, but you were sure you almost died. Slowly, you moved forward to get out of the way of the car.
“I’m sorry!” you yelled over your shoulder.
The driver leaned out the window.
Oh, great.
It was your neighbor. Or, at least, your neighbor’s son. Do Kyungsoo. He stared at you with an expression that could be blank but could also be a glare. It was hard to tell with him. Shaking his head, he pulled back inside the car and drove away.
Fighting off embarrassment for the second time this day - albeit this situation was much lower on the scale and it happened a bit more often than you’d like to admit - you put your bike up in the backyard and headed up to your room. Your mother, a literary history professor, and your father, a doctor at the local hospital, were both at work and wouldn’t be home until well after dinner. You were used to it. Besides, you were an adult and you liked being able to decide to have pizza for dinner and not worry about what other people wanted for toppings. Once you put your order in, you sat down at your vanity and got to work.
Dear Junmyeon,
Has anyone told you how your hair looks in the sunlight? The dark brown hues seem so warm and inviting, like an ebony chair that was warmed by the unfiltered rays. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to run my finger through it. Would the strands be as soft as they look? Would you wear the same smile on your face that you do during our sessions? But I guess I might not be meant to feel them. Today, I intended to tell you how I felt. I woke up with a determination, a goal to say how much I like you to your face. I was so nervous riding my bike to the university, but it was the good kind of nervous; the kind that makes you keep going. It seemed, however, that I was too late. Or maybe I simply never had a chance at all. I’d missed any signs that said you were already someone else’s.
I hope she knows how lucky she is. I hope she makes you laugh and listens to you when you’re having a bad day. Your laugh is like a symphony. Does she tell you how light and lovely it is? Or how infectious it is? When you laugh, I can’t help but laugh along. It’ll be sad not to hear it anymore. Or have our talks filled with random subject changes. But I think I’ll miss your smile most of all. The way it crinkles your eyes yet still lets them shine. The way it spreads across your face and the way your cheeks grow. It is truly a sight to behold. I hope wherever you go, you are always smiling. You always let your light shine even on the cloudiest of days. That’s what’s so special about you and what made me fall for you. Even when I was frustrated or couldn’t understand, you were patient, taking my mind off of the negative and turning me so I could face the positive. That’s a rare kind of person. You are a rare kind of person. Please always be happy, Kim Junmyeon.
Love,
(y/n)
With a sigh you sat back in your chair. The letter had done its job. Though you were still sad about the way things turned out, you no longer felt defeated. The words you needed to say were now out there without being “out there”. Okay, so he had a girlfriend. Big deal. It wasn’t the end of the world. There were more potential love interests out there that you could find. He was only one and obviously wasn’t the one.
Beginning to smile again, you folded the letter and put it in an envelope. You didn’t have Junmyeon’s address, so you wrote out the address for the math lab. Opening the top drawer of the vanity, you placed the latest addition to your collection under the first envelope. The doorbell rang right as you closed it up again. Oh, thank goodness. Food.
Practically skipping down the steps, you hurried to the front door.
“Hi-” You stopped as soon as you’d opened it. The person waiting on the other side was not the pizza delivery guy - it was Baekhyun. The boxes holding the pizza and cheese sticks you’d order for no one but yourself were in his hands. Over his shoulder, you barely caught sight of the delivery man driving away. “Really?”
“What? I was bored. And hungry.” He flipped open the lid to show you the hot, melted cheese of the appetizer. “Cheese stick?”
Rolling your eyes, you stepped aside so he could come inside.
Baekhyun had been to your home plenty of times in the past so it was easy for him to make himself at home. He didn’t wait for you before pulling plates out of the cabinet and pouring a drink. He even went as far as getting you glass as well. “Thirsty?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
The two of you ate at the kitchen table as your mother had a “no meals in the living room” policy. Small snacks like nuts and popcorn were okay, as long as you didn’t spill any on the couches.
“So… how did the writing go?” Baekhyun asked cheekily between bites.
You shrugged. “Fine. I’m deciding that I’m getting over it.”
Now it was Baekhyun’s turn to roll his eyes. “You always get over them fast.”
“What’s the point of dwelling on the things you can’t change?”
That was always your answer. Yes, the hurt was immediate and painful, but Baekhyun was right, you tended to push it aside rather quickly. That was the whole point of your letters, anyway. Get the feelings out of the way so you could move on. What was the point of clinging on to something like that? You would only end up worse if you stayed in that spot. So, you pushed yourself to move on. And eight times out of nine, it had worked. There was only that one nagging letter that failed to do its job. That particular set of feelings refused to go away even as you looked to other crushes, as you found other boys to like. It was the one you would always wonder about, the one that was completely off limits. The dull ache still crept up every once in a while. If moving on was what you had to do, you would do it. Because you would prefer if you never had to go through something like that ever again.
#exo#exo college au#exo college!au#exo x reader#exo fake dating au#exo fake dating!au#to all the boys i've loved before au#exo series#kim minseok#xiumin#kim junmyeon#suho#zhang yixing#lay#byun baekhyun#park chanyeol#kim jongdae#chen#d.o.#do kyungsoo#kim jongin#kai#oh sehun#Nine Little Letters
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Cloud Nine (Giorno Giovanna x F!Reader)
A Post!VA Giorno Giovanna x Reader one shot where you meet him after being separated in childhood, and bond with his gang.
AU: Everybody Lives
Word Count: 5.4k
The rustling of papers, followed by a scribbling of pen, engulfed the room of a busy man. Daylight and wind coming from the balcony and windows helped him read through the documents with no problem. It was a nice sunny day, but it's nothing special for someone flooded with loads of work and responsibilities.
Since the day they defeated Diavolo, the previous evil boss of Passione, a mafia organization that stands at the top in Italy, and had his high-ranking position taken, the new boss made sure to achieve his justified dream and clean up the dirty mess in the organization. It was easier said than done: starting from removing and adding new rules, stopping operations that involved children and drugs, proving that he's worthy of being Passione's boss — as someone who has taken down a powerful boss with a heart of gold, he won't be one to use violent means to gain respect unless thoroughly provoked —, protecting himself against loyal followers of Diavolo, and many things that can either be said or is trivial in the mafia world.
That's just a gist of the work of Gang-STAR, Giorno Giovanna, and he's glad that he doesn't need to look out for his back because of his resilient comrades that he shared influencial goodness with.
“Giorno, Mista called me to meet you. I say, this must be something serious,” A man with straight bowl cut and gold pins wearing a black and gold suit entered after receiving permission to enter Giorno's office, “Are you going to send me somewhere?”
Giorno placed the documents and his pen aside, looking up to the man as he leaned his arms on his table, “Yes, although, it's a simple task.” He pushed a folder, which he got from a drawer, across the table for the other man to see.
The man took the folder and read the papers inside as he noted of the important details, “This is.. a profile of a girl and her father who's a well-known government official. For what exact reason did you show me this?”
“You should've known, Bucciarati. Of course we'd be babysitting that girl,” A man with long purple hair and lips who had a goth style entered, “Sorry not sorry for barging in, Giorno,” He lazily said as he walked to the two men on the table, the mentioned latter only nodding at him, “You could stop hiding now, Narancia. Giorno said it's okay for us to go in.”
“Eh? Are you sure, Abbacchio?” Another man, who seemed to be more fitting of the word best boy, peeked from the outside of the door, his orange headband being the most noticeable, “I didn't hear Giorno say something since we came here earlier!”
“Clean your ears, didn't you hear him talk to Bucciarati?” Abbacchio replied.
Giorno looked at Bucciarati as a demand of explanation, “We had hesitations on knocking, Giorno. It makes sense that you're busy and we wouldn't want to disturb you, especially since you haven't left this room for days.” He received, making him nod in understanding.
Narancia had now entered the room, reading the folder and sitting on the couch with Abbacchio as Bucciarati sat on one of the chairs in front of Giorno's table, “So, you're saying that I'll be bringing her to you from the airport, and that's it?” Bucciarati asked with ceased brows, receiving a quiet nod from the blonde.
“It doesn't make one hell of a sense. So what if she's the daughter of a politician? That doesn't make her special to have the mafia as her bodyguards,” Abbacchio raised a brow at Giorno, snatching the folder from Narancia's hold and slid it on the coffee table, “THAT doesn't make her special to have YOU as her bodyguard, Giorno.” He pointed out, resting his back on the couch with crossed arms like an angry dad.
Narancia scratched his head with a scrunched nose, “Isn't it exactly what makes her special? Being a child of a famous politician is no joke, so it'd be safer for them to have the mafia on their side, right?” He asked in confusion, making Abbacchio glance at him with an ‘I know that, idiot’ look.
Bucciarati cleared his throat, “What Abbacchio and Narancia's trying to say is, we understand that her life is on the line because she'll be alone for a whole month here in Italy, but why does it have to be you, Giorno, that has to take care of her? You have better things to do as Passione's new boss, we could easily do it for you.” He told Giorno who was expectant of their questions.
“That is not what I—”
“Yeah, totally! It's like how we did with Trish, you know? Oh, we could just take her to Trish too, Giorno! Girls have this thing for each other—”
Narancia stopped himself after receiving a warning glance from the capo, and also realizing that he was face-to-face with his boss. This is work they're talking about. Chats, even if it's with his closest friends, aren't welcome right now.
“I understand your concerns, Abbacchio, Bucciarati. And thank you for the suggestion, Narancia, but I've already decided that she'll be staying with me. I trust that she won't be much of a nuisance than we think she would be, so my significant work for Passione won't get disturbed. There is absolutely no reason to worry,” Giorno glanced at Bucciarati, “I would only need Bucciarati to bring her to me, and that will be all. You don't need to get involved, Abbacchio.”
“You made it sound like you know her well, Giorno. But since you gave me permission not to care, that's what I'll be doing. You have my thanks.” Abbacchio stood up and raised his hands, making a roll motion on one before he bowed and had the three men watch him leave the room.
Narancia did not follow the long-haired man, and instead firmly sat on the couch with a pout on his face, “Is there something you want to tell me, Narancia?” Giorno asked, figuring that the boy had an unspoken thought in his mind.
Bucciarati excused himself, bowing before he says that he'll be preparing the car. Narancia waited for him to leave before jumping from the couch to the seat in front of Giorno's table, who had been waiting for him to speak up.
“This is my only chance now that the oldies are out of the way— Giorno, can I go with Bucciarati?” He asked after preventing the chair from falling. Giorno nodded, “Then— can we hang with her? Like if she's with you and stuff? I'm.. kind of missing Trish so..”
Right, of course Narancia would be excited that a girl would be bonding with them again even if it's not Trish, who moved somewhere in Italy to continue and enjoy the life she deserved. Giorno saw no harm in letting his group connect with you, so he nodded once again.
Narancia grinned, jumping from the chair to the ground with a fist above. He faced Giorno to bow, almost reaching the floor, and ran to the door as he regained his energy. Giorno felt himself smile, silently glad that he got through an adventure with the same people that he's with now.
“Ah, thanks Giorno! You're the best boss! We'll be sure to bring [Y/N] safe!”
[Y/N].. [Y/N] [L/N]. The name of someone who he thought he'd never see again. Someone he met as Giorno, but kept calling him Haruno because she thought he'd remember him better if she does. Now that he recalls it, more flashbacks of you came into mind, driving him to have a break from work and chill on the balcony. He leaned on the fence and observed the garden below him.
You were a childhood friend of Giorno's that he met here in Italy. You belonged to a wealthy family who had connections to the people on the upper hierarchy, consisting of an overwhelming line of successful politicians. When he knew of this, he was already your bestfriend who you invited to hang out at your family mansion, and there he felt at home more than he did at his own. Your mother was a simple and humble woman while your father was the tough and thoughtful kind. Giorno saw for himself how you managed to be sweet yet cunning at the same time — you often scared off his bullies —, making him develop a puppy crush on you at the age of eight.
Everything was going well with you and your family on his side, your father privately scaring his father if he intended to hurt him more, your mother trying to make his mother understand that he needs proper loving and care. But then, it had to end. For a reason unknown to him and yourself, your family had to move to another country, and that's with no proper goodbyes.
It's not really the time to be melancholic, you're coming back at Italy after all. How did he even know of you and your family's whereabouts if you were gone in his life for a decade now? Simple, because if the boss of Passione aims to achieve something, he'll use his available resources to get it. Relating that to you, he'd say that connecting with your family and meeting you again was his goals, and he's proud that he overcame it. After speaking to your father and proving to him that he's to be trusted with your well-being and safety, he was informed that your father will be sending you to Italy for vacation. Your father even thanked him for appearing in the right time, saying that he wouldn't want you to be completely alone with strangers when he and her wife's away for work, and that you would be happier with him.
Technically, you'd be alone with strangers if you're with him too — his diverse gang crossing his mind —, but did your father mean it when he said you'd be happier with him? He didn't tell your father what he does in his life now, and that just proves how much he's trusted by the [L/N]s.
But will you trust him if you learn that he's the boss of a mafia organization? Yes, it's nonsense to doubt you. What matters is that you get to spend time together once more.
You're still his biggest crush and his first love now, after all.
—
You crouched outside the airport, your backpack resting in front of your chest as you faced your sunglasses on the back of your head. You know you looked ridiculous, but the boredom of waiting for Haruno had striked you. You arrived thirty minutes earlier, expecting that he'd be early too, but the cute familiar black-haired Japanese wasn't in sight. You were starting to think that your papa tricked you so that he could have your mama alone, but that didn't sound right for middle-aged people like them. Plus, why did they have to send you back here at your hometown just so you could be safe? Well, they obviously didn't know that you could take care of yourself with the help of your.. psh. None of it made sense, but since it's free vacation you're talking about, you just brushed off the complains.
“Excuse me, Signora, but are you [Y/N] [L/N]?”
A deep voice spoke from beside you, making you flinch in surprise. You could've sworn that the voice you heard was sexy, but what you saw when you looked up at the person beside you was much more sexier. You don't remember Italian men being this beautiful, “Yes! And you are?” You jumped to your feet, gulping as you stood in front of the man, “You aren't Haruno, are you?”
“Haruno..?” The man repeated and shook his head, “Sorry to disappoint, but no. My name is Bruno Bucciarati, a friend of Giorno Giovanna. I take it he's.. Haruno?”
You sounded an ‘oh..’ before nodding. You wanted to ask why he's here instead of your childhood friend, but you just waited for him to explain, not wanting to come off as rude.
“Alright, then you must be confused as to why I'm here instead of him?” He asked like he read your mind, making you nod, “I'll be brief for now, is that okay?” He asked again and you gave a pursed smile in return, noticing how he acknowledges your comfort, “Hm, to start off, Giorno has a busy work. It mostly takes away all his time, including now, so we volunteered to fetch you here and bring you to him.”
You were about to ask where he is now and what work does he do but you did not, thinking it must be private, “Is that so, Bucciarati? Thank you for your time, but you didn't have to do this! I could just wait until he's.. uh, free and not busy!” You smiled, “Besides, I'd be pretty jetlagged anytime now.. you could go with your friend and if it's no biggie, tell Haruno he shouldn't worry about me! I'll be here for a whole month anyways,” You convinced.
Bucciarati noted how you told him to go with his friend, connecting it with how he said ‘they’ volunteered. You're a perceptive one, huh? Abbacchio must be right, Giorno knows you very well, and that fact is enough for him to let you be the closest to him. You had to be someone Giorno's familiar with for him to guard you himself, someone who has to be special to him.
He smiled back at you, “I'm sure Giorno would love your company, Signora. Won't you be staying with him?”
And with that, Bucciarati had you speechless. He had reminded you that you'll be living with Haruno as a safety measure. It sounded cute when it came from your papa because he still saw both of you as kids, but now that you know that he works for a living, the realization that he's matured mentally and.. physically had hit you. The excitement of meeting him again didn't let the realization cross your mind when you agreed to living with him here.
But again, it's your best childhood friend you're talking about, so no complains.
You now sat on a couch of what seemed to be an office after the ride with Bucciarati and his other friends Narancia and Mista. You almost decided to have a happy crush on Bucciarati, especially on how soft he was around you, but you backed it off after meeting the other two who just had the most chaotic energies you aspired to have. You learned from Mista that Narancia struggled with mathematics so you told him that you could help him, while you noticed on the former that he had a pistol with him so you asked him if he could teach you sometimes, both offers being ecstatically agreed to. The plans for your vacation were going well, but you still haven't met Haruno. Sucks that you've been told to stay and wait at the room you're in without the candidates of who's going to be your vacation crush.
As you searched inside your bag, a person entered the room, “I'm sorry for making you wait, I went outside to buy food for us.” Thinking that the person was one of the first three you met, you didn't looked up and continued searching, only saying ‘It's fine!’.
The person, who happened to be Giorno, had three boxes of pizza and two tubs of ice cream in his arms. It was whack food for his reuniting with you, but he knows that you won't be having the energy to eat at a fancy restaurant right now. He'd be sure to take you in one, though.
He placed the foods on the coffee table and sat on the couch opposite of where you were, trying to have a proper look of your face. You had your natural [H/C] covering it though, your bowed head making it even impossible for him. He sat properly and faked a cough, at that you had already found what you were looking for.
You lifted your head, but unfortunately, the photo you were holding hid your face. Is he being teased right now?
On the other hand, you were smiling and admiring the photo. It had an image of you and Haruno, both your arms hanging on each other's necks as you cheekily grinned and he had a smile, your head resting on his. It was just one of the mementos you had, a lot of stuffs stored back at your room. Looking back makes you feel warm everytime, but it could be better if you met Haruno right now.
Giorno faked a cough once again, and you peeked, quickly putting back the photo inside after you saw a new.. face. He wore a black and green suit that bared his chest as he had his usual hairstyle, his long blonde hair tied into a fish braid while his hair's brim were rolled into three. Giorno was looking “mhm!” and you had to deny it, aiming not to embarrass yourself.
You placed your backpack beside you and fixed your sitting position, “Ah.. sorry, I thought you were someone I already met. I'm [Y/N] [L/N], do you own this place? Bucciarati and the others told me to wait here for Haruno, I could wait somewhere else if you want!”
It was a given that he'd be unrecognizable because of his hair and brows turning blonde, but Giorno had widened his eyes, shocked for one fact: you called him Haruno.
“Uhm.. hey? I'm sorry again. I'll just go wait outside now, thank you!” You were fast on clinging your bag to your shoulders and hurrying to the door, but not fast enough for the Giorno Giovanna with you. Before you could open the door, Giorno went beside you and held your wrist with a firm grip.
Giorno gulped the slump in his throat, “It's me, [Y/N],” He started, confusing you, “Haruno.. Haruno Shiobana.”
You dropped your backpack upon hearing this, a surprised face on you, “W-what? But.. he isn't.. are you.. no, there's no reason for you to do that. Is it.. really you? Like.. my Haruno Shiobana? My Giorno? My GioGio?” You held his shoulders and shook his taller form, your voice becoming more and more loud as you asked his names.
Giorno let out a tranced chuckle as he looked at your eyes, seeing your eyes express your excitement. Oh, how much he missed those, “Yes, [Y/N]. It's me, your Haruno.”
That was the confirmation you needed to finally burst out, your hands tightening on his shoulders as you jumped, “Can I.. can I hug you?” You politely asked, knowing how sensitive he can be to physical affection, and he slowly nodded.
You stomped your feet as a wide smile formed on your face, your eyes starting to well up tears. Wrapping your arms around his neck after you admired his beauty, locking him in a lodged hug, “I-I can't believe how much you've outgrown me! And blonde hair?! Are you kidding me?! It looks perfect on you! You were the cutest back then but now— I don't even know how to begin! Puberty hit you like an airplane crash when I'm here looking like a potato sack! You're really unfair, Haruno!”
Giorno had one of his rarest smiles on his face because of your adorable outburst, his arms wrapping around your waist to hug you back. You described yourself so wrong when your form and your charming personality wouldn't even have that as an option of definition. He lovingly rubbed your back, trying to soothe you as he felt warm tears on his shoulder, “Shh.. I wouldn't even dare challenge your own alluring beauty, cara.”
Unbeknownst to Giorno who was indulged in your hug though, a part of him was up and willing to challenge you.
His Stand, Gold Experience Requiem or GER, manifested behind him and on the side where you placed your head. Feeling a presence of someone, you looked up with quivering lips, gasping as your eyes laid on a gold humanoid floating behind Giorno. You stepped back and pulled the man with you, pointing to the humanoid, “H-Haruno! Look out!”
Giorno changed your position and pushed you behind him out of fighting instinct, giving him a decent look on his sentient Stand, “GER? [Y/N].. you can see it?” He turned to look at you and you nodded, “You're a Stand User too.. I didn't know about that.”
Giorno led you to the couch with GER behind him and sat beside you, explaining to you what a Stand is. You were glad to know that you weren't the only one with an ability who had a form that no one else around your home sees, so when he asked you to show your Stand, you confidently called for its name. It manifested behind you, its head resting on your shoulder. Giorno, as the sweetheart that he is to you, complimented it before asking its ability. As you were explaining your Stand's ability, both of your and Giorno's Stands now faced and admired each other's forms behind the couch.
“Stand Users attract each other, huh? That's neat.”
Abbacchio, who had his red and green headphones and his eyes closed, stood by the now opened door with crossed arms. Your Stands weren't bothered by the disturbance and just kept staring at each other while you and Giorno had your attention on the man.
“I-I'm sorry, would you like to join us? You must be Haruno's friend too, it would be great if we all got along, wouldn't it? He actually bought too much pizza so..” You informed after hesitating. You walked up to the door, Giorno following you while he had his eyes glued on Abbacchio, ready to warn him not to be rude to you, “I'm [Y/N] [L/N], and you must be?”
Abbacchio opened an eye and saw his boss' firm look. He clicked his tongue and pushed himself from leaning to face you, “Leone Abbacchio.”
Giorno softened when you turned to face him with a cheerful smile, “Haruno, can we call the others? Pizza and ice cream is better when shared, yeah?”
Abbacchio observed Giorno carefully, and he never thought he'd see him go all soft and protective just for a woman. The way he looked at you was different, like he adored everything about you and every word you say. Yet, this was the same Giorno who stepped out of his league to achieve his impossibly deadly dream. Giorno Giovanna never fails to surprise him, it seems.
“Yes, of course, as long as you're comfortable. I'll call them, you should go sit while you wait,” Giorno stepped aside, leting you walk back to the couch and join the staring contest between the Stands. He faced Abbacchio, “You should go sit with her, Abbacchio. How about you try to see if she's as special as I think she is?”
Abbacchio smirked on Giorno's challenge. He won't be able to use his old trick without a tea set available, but that isn't to say he doesn't have any more up his dress sleeves, “It's my pleasure, Don Giorno.”
Oblivious to Giorno's hands behind him, you caught his signal that both of you invented when you were children. It was made just for fun, usually used when you two hung out at your home and had nothing to do except to troll your parents and the helpers. It was fun seeing them get utterly confused with your and Giorno's antics, maybe it won't be so bad to have a little trip to nostalgia.
And needless to say, it was a fun trip, not just for you and Giorno, but for the whole gang, after seeing Abbacchio get his peach handed back to him from you. You had doubts if you should do that one prank you devised long ago against a man who looked like he knew of your deepest secrets, but it was successful nonetheless. The others got back to the office while you were doing it, and like they were used to the tense atmosphere caused by harmless waggery, they waited for the big reveal of who'll be the embarrassed and the victor. In this case, Abbacchio lost, hissing as he almost flipped the table in dismay, and you won, leaning on the arm of the couch as you made two peace signs and crossed your arms, a smug grin and black sunglasses on your face — which your Stand mimicked — while Narancia and Mista screamed behind you, the Sex Pistols jumping up and down your body as Aerosmith flew around. Bucciarati sat beside Abbacchio, calming him down, and Giorno was standing at the other end of your couch, smiling in amusement at them and in awe with you.
It has only been hours since you've met the gang, but the bonding was one of those spent with close friends. You felt at home with them, especially when Giorno's around, and they also did with you. Because of their experience with Trish, they had been inclined to thinking that guarding you isn't something of professional duty, although Giorno had thought of that from the start.
You were now laying and dozing off on the couch, the jetlag and drained energy getting to you. Giorno sat on the floor beside you, watching you as you slept peacefully.
Mista crouched beside Giorno as the others cleaned up, “Yo, boss. Shouldn't we put her to bed? She might wake up feeling uncomfortable.”
“She told me she..” Giorno had his face warm up, which didn't go unnoticed by Mista, “She wants to be close to me,” He said with the most unflustered voice he can do.
Mista surpressed a laugh, “Then go for it! Put her to bed and sleep with her! Aren't you childhood friends? The closest? Doesn't that mean you've slept with her before like when you're playing or something?”
Giorno sighed, still looking at you, “Well yeah, but this is different. We're not kids anymore.”
“Don't misunderstand, Giorno. You're just being by her side like she requested you to, she trusts you enough not to do anything that would ruin that trust. Besides, we all saw how you looked at her! It was obvious that you missed— Okay boss, I know you got it.” Mista, who had been carried away with giving advice, received a warning glance from Giorno, so he stopped himself and patted his boss' back before leaving.
Giorno patiently waited for everyone to leave — each of them giving him a thumbs up —, all the while sitted by your side as he thought of what Abbacchio said to him when he came back after the others had left.
“Hey, Giorno. She isn't a nuisance, at least. It's not everyday you get to spend a break with someone like her. Use your smart ass and don't ruin it.”
He was right, but what does he mean to not ruin it? You're resting, what else does he have to do? He could continue reading through his paperworks while he waited for you to wake up, that way he won't have to worry about those later and get to have more time for you.
It was settled. Giorno stood up and was going to walk to his table, only to be stopped by a hand. He looked back, and saw your hand unyieldingly holding his. Surprised, he checked your face, but you were still fast asleep and were not faking it. He hitched a breath, he's getting flustered over holding hands with you even if you closely held each other earlier. Did he intertwined his hand with you, or was it you who did it? To answer it, he tried to break free from your hold, but you tightened your grip.
“Gio..” You called for him, half-awake. You fluttered your half-lidded eyes as you tried to sit up, Giorno quickly helping you and sitting a little far from you after you've settled with folding your knees, his hand still in yours that rested on your lap. You covered your mouth with the other and yawned, “Ah, wooh! Remember when you.. asked me that one thing, Haruno?” You casually told him after stretching.
“I-it depends, [Y/N]. What thing is it?” Giorno gulped, are you not aware of your hands?
“It was your birthday.. it was the time we confessed our crushes to each other, to be precise,” You looked up and giggled on the memory, “I gave you a gift then you gave me a carnation flower. After that, you told me—”
“Is it alright if I ask you to be my someone like your mama is to your papa?” Giorno cut you off and squeezed your hand, recalling the exact words he told you that day. He began to like holding your hand, it would be a shame to let this miss.
You turned your eyes to him, “Yeah, that. I was wondering if you have someone right now who.. you know, who you asked that?” You gazed at him with pure curiosity, wanting to know more of the people he's most fond with. Meeting his squad had been a blast, and it would be great if you met his special one.
“Did asking you counted?”
“Wha?”
“Is it..?”
Awkward. Silence. You didn't expect him to answer like that, to answer with so much swiftness and poise like he already knew your question and had prepared what to say. Giorno surely grew out of his shell, and that thought made you smile unknowingly, which flushed him even more.
“Can I sit closer to you, [Y/N]?” Giorno tugged your hand after he asked, and you responded with facing to your side so he could move closer to you. You looked down on your clasped hands that broke hold with his, not knowing what to say when he literally confessed for the second time.
“Don't you feel cold with your open chest?”
“Can we hug again?”
Another. Awkward. Silence. You were trying to start up a new topic because it had been too quiet, but you were out of place. How do you even tell him that you still like him? Of course it isn't like the time when you were kids, shrugging off uneasy moments with outgoing replies and with the littlest of distractions. It had been years since you first saw each other, and the bond with the gang earlier helped you both catch up a bit, but it isn't going too well without them. Is it really alright to talk about such feelings now?
You glanced at the nervous Giorno and nodded, a small smile finding its way to his lips. He put an arm around your shoulder and gently pulled you in. You shifted your body and wrapped your arms around his torso, your head once again resting on his shoulder. With that, he proceeded to lock you in both of his arms as he placed his head on yours and closed his eyes, GER manifesting on your other side as it mimicked its user's hold on you.
Feeling your affectionate form nestle close to him is what he'd describe as his cloud nine, all the built-in stress being released as the snippets of emptiness that unfortunate circumstances brought were filled. How come you managed to be the same angel that he knew a decade ago? As someone incredibly whipped for you, he already knows the reason, but maybe he'd ask you of that sooner or later just to see you in a blushing state.
In the present, he'll gratify himself of this moment, the voice of Abbacchio saying that he should ‘use his smart ass and not ruin this’ echoing through his mind.
He kissed your crown as you snuggled closer to him, giving him the composure he needed to speak of his feelings for you, “Don't worry. You have the whole month to think of your answer to my question. For now, listen to my voice as I tell you how much you mean to me, even if I get separated from you for a devastating number of years.”
“Sei la luce della mia vita, amore mio.”
[End!]
#giorno giovanna#giorno x reader#vento aureo#jjba part 5#golden wind#jojo's bizarre adventure#bucci gang x reader#haruno shiobana#i know i shouldve included our boi fugo im sorry TwT#leone abbacchio#narancia ghirga#guido mista#bruno bucciarati#bruno buccellati#jojo reader insert#let's assume pol got to reunite w/ joot and oldseph....#mirawrites
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times new roman | episode nine
t. jefferson x reader
summary: Y/n needs a date. Thomas would be more than happy to oblige.
word count: 2.4k
A/N: this chapter contains smut! if you’re not comfortable with that feel free to skip this chapter, it not technically necessary to the next part.
also this is my first smut,, so read at your own discretion. wrote this all in one sitting idk what to think. but at least it was a fast update or something??
masterlist | previous | next
Y/n ended up picking out a sparkly, blue minidress. Peggy had insisted she buy it months ago, and now she finally had an occasion to wear it. Now that it was on, Y/n wondered why she had never worn it before. It fit her snuggly, accentuating all her best features. And when paired with heels? She felt like some kind of runway model.
If the smile on her face when she looked in the mirror wasn’t enough to boost her ego, the look on Thomas’s face would have sent her over the edge. When she opened the door, he was wearing a confident smirk, but it dropped from his face when he saw what she was wearing.
“Wow. I just... wow.” He stared at her with his mouth open.
Y/n stepped out into the hallway and turned to close the door so he didn’t see the proud smile she has on. “Hm? Have I finally brought Thomas Jefferson to a loss for words?”
Thomas blinked a few times, shook his head, and attempted to recover. “I’m always at a loss for words when it comes to you, angel.”
“Annnndddd he’s back,” she laughed. “Let’s get to that speakeasy now, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
This time there was no awkward silence this time like there had been before their first official date. Thomas had asked Y/n out a few times since then, sometimes it was just for lunch or coffee, sometimes it was front row orchestra tickets. Despite all the dates, Y/n nor Thomas tried to define the relationship, both seemingly happy to have a casual thing between the two of them.
That didn’t change the fact that every time Y/n’s phone buzzed, her serotonin levels raised, and if the text did happen to be from Thomas, she wouldn’t even try to hide her smile. She had attempted to hide her smile before, but discovered it was too tiring an ordeal.
It was true that they had grown quite close over the span of a few weeks, but they still insisted on keeping whatever their relationship was a secret from their friends, co-workers, and family.
“Are we really making a detour to a bookstore?” Y/n asked as Thomas tugged her into a rundown shop.
Thomas raised an eyebrow and glanced back at her. “Angel, what do you think a speakeasy is?”
She narrowed her eyes, wondering if he was trying to insult her or set up a trap. “It’s a secret bar.”
“Yes,” he nodded, “and it wouldn’t be much of a secret if the entrance was in an obvious place.”
Her mouth formed a small ‘o’ when the realization struck her. In the back of the store, Thomas approached a bookstore employee and tapped them on the shoulder. Thomas exchanged a few lines of a Shakespeare sonnet with the employee (a pretentious fact that Y/n made a note to make fun of him for later), and the employee was sliding open a bookcase a few seconds later.
Thomas turned back to smile at Y/n, easily slipping his hand through her’s, and tugging her inside. The bookcase slid shut behind them. Y/n was shocked that a moment ago she had been standing in a quiet bookshop, and now she was standing in a lavish speakeasy.
In one corner of the room, there was an arrangement of opulent lounge chairs. There was a bar in the back of the room where a bartender was mixing up elaborate cocktails, and a small crowd was gathered around him. Jazzy music filled the air, and occupants found any room in the small space to dance wildly with each other.
Y/n wrapped her hand around Thomas’s arm, pulling him closer in case she lost him in the sea of dancing bodies.
“I don’t know if I was expecting it to be so lively,” she spoke loudly in Thomas’s ear.
He shrugged. “It’s the grand opening, I doubt it’s always like this. Want to grab a drink?”
Y/n wanted to say something about the last time she had gotten drunk around him, but the truth is, she did want a drink, so she just nodded. Thomas gripped her hand and they journeyed through the sea of drunken dancers to the bar. After a few minutes, they were able to place their orders for drinks that sounded good in theory, but were more intimidating when the bartender lit the drink on fire.
“So what do you think?” Thomas leaned against the bar, his eyes watching her carefully.
Y/n grinned widely. “I love it here. Glad I didn’t decline your answer to go out tonight.”
“Did you really consider declining?” He laughed, feigning an offended expression.
“The point is, I didn’t,” Y/n said, leaning forward and gripping his arm. “C’mon, let’s go dance.”
Thomas was in no position to deny her, and he happily allowed Y/n to pull him away from the bar and into the lively crowd. Y/n wasn’t an expert dancer, but Thomas made her look good, spinning and swaying in time with the music. She had her arms thrown around his shoulder, her fingertips lightly tapping a rhythm into the fabric of his back as she hummed along to the song playing.
This close to him, Y/n could distinctly smell the scents of cedar and amber on him with a faint trace of cherry blossoms. It was like he had just walked out of the Library of Congress, and she would have believed him if he said he had. Thomas’s hands dug firmly into her skin, pulling her hips so they were flush against his.
They continued dancing like this for a few songs, but by the time the third song came to an end, both of them were nearly out of breath.
“I think I need some water,” Y/n laughed, as their bodies parted slightly.
“I think you’re right,” he grinned. Something caught Thomas’s eye beyond Y/n’s shoulder, and he tapped her hip lightly. “I think I see my client over there, angel. I should go say hi. Would you mind getting me a glass of water as well?”
She stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “don’t take too long.”
Y/n released him and sauntered over to the bar, making sure to swing her hips with every step, knowing exactly the effect she had on Thomas. He cursed quietly under his breath and shook his head.
Thomas wasn’t planning on spending too much time thanking his client for inviting him to the speakeasy, but now he had even more reason to make the conversation short. He couldn’t have been parted from Y/n for more than five minutes when he found her once more at the bar.
The sight that greeted him wasn’t a pleasant one. A young blonde guy had found his way to her side, and he was leaning in a little too close. Y/n didn’t pay much mind to him, occasionally rolling her eyes at some cheesy pick-up line he was attempting. She felt Thomas’s gaze on her before she turned to see him staring at her a few feet away.
One glance was all she needed to see how worked up he was just having another man talk to her. Y/n sent Thomas a coy smirk and turned to the blonde beside her with a newfound interest.
“What was that you were saying, handsome?” She asked the blonde in a soft tone, her hand reaching up to lightly trace over his tie. Y/n glanced at Thomas, her grin widening a little when she saw his eyes narrowing and his fists clenched at his sides.
“I was wondering if you wanted to come home with me tonight,” the blonde said, stunned at her change in attitude toward him.
“Hm, that’s an interesting off--”
Y/n felt a hand tightly grip the wrist of the hand she had absentmindedly playing with the blonde’s tie. She looked up to see a seething Thomas glaring at her.
“Sorry, she’s already got plans for this evening.” Thomas didn’t waste anymore breath on the blonde, placing his hand on her lower back and leading her away from the bar.
“I can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?” He growled softly when they were out of earshot.
Thomas brought her back into the crowd of dancers, but the mood had changed immensely since the last time they had been dancing. His hands were holding her body tightly as if he was afraid she might slip away. Y/n could feel the heat of his breath while he slid his hands up and down her body.
“I’m an adult, you don’t have to babysit me,” she shut her eyes momentarily, enjoying the feeling of his body against her’s.
“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t act like a child.”
Her eyes snapped open and she glared at him. “Bite me.”
Thomas didn’t miss a beat. “Where?”
Y/n gasped softly, her eyes going wide. Thomas didn’t wait long for a reply, pulling her body closer, if that was even possible, and placing his lips on the exposed skin on her neck. He lightly nipped at her skin, and Y/n refrained from letting out a deep moan, swallowing roughly instead. Her hand found the back of his neck and she pulled him closer to her.
“Don’t talk to other guys like that,” Thomas’s voice was raspy as his lips pressed kisses against her skin.
Framing his face with her hands, Y/n brought him up to look her in the eye, an eyebrow raised. Realizing his mistake, Thomas quickly rephrased. “Wait, no. I’m aware I can’t tell you what to do. I just... please don’t talk to anyone else like that. Not in front of me.”
“I don’t want to talk to anyone but you. You’re an idiot,” she smiled, “now kiss me.”
Thomas didn’t need to be asked twice. He held Y/n’s face in one hand, the other hand resting on her lower back. Thomas pressed his lips against her’s like her kiss was the oxygen he needed to breathe. His knee slid between her thighs, and she grinded against his leg on instinct. He groaned into the kiss, and the next thing Y/n knew, he had pulled away from her completely.
“We need to get out of here,” Thomas panted.
Y/n nodded. “Your place?”
“My place,” he agreed.
They exited the speakeasy in record time, and the cool air outside seemed to momentarily sober them up. Thomas was sure the Uber driver didn’t appreciate how handsy they were being in the backseat, so he made sure he tipped generously.
When Thomas had closed his apartment door behind him, Y/n nearly jumped on him, your lips latching onto his. His hands slid up her legs, the electric blue dress she had been wearing began to bunch up around her waist. Thomas’s fingers slipped expertly into her panties, sliding them down her legs and to her ankles.
Thomas got down on his knees in front of her, tearing down a wall Y/n had tried so hard to keep up with every kiss he placed on the inside of her thighs. Y/n could feel her heart racing a hundred beats per minute in her chest as her head hit the the wall behind her. She reached a hand down to thread through Thomas’s hair, gently guiding him to where she needed him the most.
He took the hint, his tongue sliding against Y/n’s pussy lips, once, then twice. Thomas successfully elicited an unrestrained moan from your mouth. Enjoying the sound, his tongue darted into her folds once more, his fingers digging bruises into her hips.
Thomas brought her close to the edge, then in some kind of telepathic way, he pulled away just as she was about to reach her climax. He continued this pattern a few more times until she couldn’t take it anymore and tugged at his hair.
“Thomas, please,” his name sounded like a prayer on her lips. “I need you to stop teasing me. I want you. All of you.”
He nodded in understanding, standing up and pulling her into his bedroom. Thomas’s hands found the hem of Y/n’s dress in the dark and pulled it over her head. Y/n began undoing Thomas’s belt buckle while he unclasped her bra and flung the garment into some forgotten corner of the room. His hands traced her body, memorizing every curve and indent and Y/n tugged down his pants.
Thomas picked her up and threw her onto the bed. He tugged off his shirt before climbing onto the bed after her. Thomas pressed his lips to hers firmly, and Y/n willing returned the kiss. She ran her hand down his back, and Thomas’s hips bucked forward at the feeling. Y/n’s eyes widened slightly at the feeling of his large erection through his boxers.
“You have protection?” She asked with a hoarse voice.
“Yeah,” he murmured, climbing off of her to retrieve a condom from his nightstand.
Y/n heard the crinkling of foil, then a few moments later she felt the bed dip under his weight and he was once more above her. He lined himself up at her entrance then paused, thumbing tracing the outline of her lips and eyes staring into her’s in a moment of raw intimacy.
“You’re sure about this?” He said softly. “I’ll stop right now if you say the word.”
Y/n admired the way he searched her features for any trace of hesitance or doubt. She shook her head. “Don’t stop. Please, I need you--”
She was cut off with her own moan when he pushed his length inside her. Y/n gasped as she struggled to accommodate his large size. Her nails dug into his blood, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if she drew blood.
“Oh, angel, you feel so good around me,” Thomas panted as he pumped in and out of her.
Y/n didn’t even try to restrain her scream of his name when he began to pick up his pace, gaining speed and working through her body skillfully. His neighbors would not be happy with Y/n tomorrow, but she couldn’t care what they thought. She was in bliss.
“Thomas... oh god, Thomas...” Y/n struggled getting any coherent words out as she neared her climax, and Thomas wasn’t having any more luck.
Thomas kept up at his rapid pace, and a few minutes later he was riding her through her orgasm. Y/n screamed out his name once more, and that seemed to push Thomas over the edge as he reached his climax as well.
Y/n and Thomas stood still for a moment, panting. Finally, Thomas pulled out and got up long enough to throw the used condom in the trash before collapsing down at Y/n’s side where he belonged.
“You’re perfect, angel. You’re perfect.”
tag list:
@dovesgrangers @lovelymrvl @wiffle-snuffles @thisistrashperson @comingupwithacoolnameishard @wordvomit-foryourmind @newtonslawoffuck @isharemydeathdaywithfeanor @i-know-i-can @imperial-martian @fangirling-central @dannighost @ateliefloresdaprimavera @justahappylilblog @fanfic-addict-98 @a-hopeless-fan @and-claudia @nicolemelton @youtxbemusic @reidcult @eirenism @fantasy-of-fiction @iamsuperconfusedallthetime-dead @a-midwinter-night-dream-86 @rycbar-221b @bethanymccauley @fanworrior @gggamingz @nemesis729 @ibeaesthethicc @yodas-padawan @sabbrriiinnaa @micaiahmoonheart @beautifulfound @moondustmemories @ct-salad @teenwaywardasgardian @bj-is-a-graduateof-julliard @ruebx @katierpblogg @speedypartyducksuitcase @fangirling-central @idkkbaleighh @ballerinafairyprincess @spn-pogues @gryffin-claw @elegantbutedgy @1elysium @sierraisnotreal @ssanjuniperoo @collectivefandom @lilbabyhoneypot @lunariasilver @justcallmemama @atleastidontdotiktoks @mistrose23 @checkurwindow @fluffydmonkey @pettyjayy @rosesinmars @cubedtriangle @itsjube @zeelmol @ems-alexandra @yavin4andor @daveeds-whore @someinsanefangirl @theatrenerd86 @poetnstuff @ohsoverykeri-blog @im-sidney @omgyouburtmyeggos @astralaffairs @nyxie75 @mydearestlaurens @janessawonderwall @the-middle-oldest-child @emtinuviel @elizard-hamilton
let me know if you want to be tagged :)
#omg i just wrote my first smut at 1 am#ah what am i doing with my life#how do i even tag this#what even#i just-#hamilton#hamilton imagine#hamilton x reader#hamilton smut#thomas jefferson imagine#thomas jefferson x reader#thomas jefferson#thomas jefferson smut#lafayette smut#daveed diggs#daveed diggs x reader#daveed diggs smut#hamilton musical
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If you ever finish answering all of yours awaiting asks...
45 questions for you 👀
https://myaekingheart.tumblr.com/post/650107314353897472/fic-writer-ask-game
Lolllll BADLUCKBREBIS, you are so funny.
Inspiration and Reading Asks:
1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?
It looks like I started writing in 2017. I've been reflecting recently on how there are so many regularly active writers now compared to in 2017-2018. It was the tail-end of some of my fave writer's activity within fandom. Utsus was posting less and less. The Tumblr NaruHina fandom seemed to disappear, a whole community of writers left for other things (matchaball, nekomamoru, magmawrites, cherryjutsu, spyder-m, tenney-shoes, eliphya, among others). 2018 was a very quiet year, but! I avidly read katarinahime and bunnyhoodlum's works! In 2019, quirrrky restarted things with NaruHina Week!
2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?
Recently I’m primarily a reader!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Because there's so many writers now!!!!!!!!
3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?
Yeah, let’s list them. “A Special Friend” by agitosgirl inspired “Nightdreams. “Medicine” by @grimmjowkurosakidrake inspired “White Lilies. “Torch Song” by @mmmbuttery inspired “About You.” The language in “Unless the World Were to End” by @bunny-hoodlum inspired the language in “That was the plan.” “In Between Drinks” by @peppercornpress inspired “In Between Drinks NH.”
4. Link your three favorite fics right now.
“Operation: Bring Home Naruto” by Dragonwannabe - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata's been assigned the mission of getting Naruto back home safely after his last dangerous assignment. But can she handle the undercover identity as his girlfriend that she’d been given without revealing her true feelings for him?
“The Mission” by Lunawraythe - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. It wasn't that Hinata never expected to work with Naruto, just never on a mission quite like this.
“The Loving Type” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A few years have passed since the Fourth Shinobi War, in which...Rookie Nine steadily advances in rank. Naruto gets engaged. Hinata leaves Konoha. And Kakashi schemes for days.
5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?
ahhh. I do have quite a few pet peeves. If the fic is Canon-Compliant or Canon-Divergent, I expect Naruto and Hinata to behave like Japanese people. Say what you want, but the Naruto Universe is definitely Japanese in my book. So that means no shoes in the house. Nothing rattles me more than reading Hinata taking her sandals off before climbing into bed. Like, what? she was wearing her outdoor shoes indoors this whole time??
mmm... another pet peeve is when the writer describes Hinata in a kimono, but it sounds like an American Halloween costume, like the slutty version, instead of an actual kimono.
mmm... and the other big pet peeve I have is when it’s Hinata’s first time eating ramen because Naruto is showing her the wonders of ramen. lol. why. how. in what world would a Japanese person make it to their teenage years without ever eating ramen.
I have a bunch of other little pet peeves regarding Japanese culture in fanfics. But in general, it doesn’t stop me from reading the fic if I'm already in the middle of it. I’ll continue reading it and will probably recommend it to other people anyway. If I can tell based on the summary, then it's not for me, and I don't read it. If this makes anyone feel nervous about writing fanfiction, that's not my intention! I would also be happy to be a sensitivity reader if necessary.
6. How do you find new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction?
I primarily read fanfics on AO3 and ffnet. I find new ones by constantly checking the Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto tag on AO3 or looking into a writer’s favorites list on ffnet.
7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics?
Short fics.
8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like?
I reblog pretty often. I don't comment as often as I used to😕 I used to comment on every fic I liked.
9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.
Uhh?? Idk. I think recently the writing group here is pretty tight, everyone seems to know everyone.
10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?
Naruto fandom and NaruHina.
Fanfiction Writing Asks:
11. How do you come up with your fic titles?
I usually take it from words used in the story or from the prompt.
12. Tell the author your favorite fic title of theirs (not the fic, strictly title). Author: what’s your favorite title you’ve come up with and why?
I think...maybe "Tell Me of Forevers" or "Nightdreams." I like those because they aren't taken word-for-word directly from the story, but touch on a theme in the story.
13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic?
Yes, I outline. They wouldn't get a headache, I think. It's usually just a summary.
14. Do you have a personal word minimum that you hold yourself too? Why or why not?
Nope. I didn't know people do that.
15. Tell the author your favorite fic of theirs. What’s your (the author’s) favorite fic you’ve written?
My favorite fic continues to be "It's No Secret."
16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching?
Yes, I do. I've done historical and folktale research for "Little Samurai." I did area/location research for "Last Chance." I did historical research for "About You." I did fairy tale research for "Catskin." I did a ton of astronomy research for "The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl." And I did lighting research for "Inspo." I go pretty deep.
17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?
I don't. I usually have something else I need to do or I go to bed.
18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie?
I actually think I can finish all of mine if I just try.
19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?
I always edit before posting to AO3. Anything I post directly on Tumblr might not be edited.
20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?
Posting!
21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?
Starting a new chapter.
22. Do you take fic requests? If so, for what characters and why?
On occasion. If someone sends me a request, I'll think about writing it. Sometimes I do write and post it, sometimes I leave them in my drafts for a better day.
23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?
From what I already have posted, probably friends-to-lovers, secret relationship/forbidden love, or high school au. I don't think I have an intentional favorite.
24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?
Public humiliation / public degradation.
25. Do you listen to music as you write? If possible, link your writing playlist.
No, not usually.
26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing?
Tumblr feed, all the pictures to scroll through mindlessly.
27. Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random?
lol, whatever is fine.
28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?
Well, pressure to update is not a big deal to me. I do this for fun, so I don't think I unnecessarily pressure myself too much. With negative comments, I don't get too many of those, and I think I do my best to avoid situations where I might get negative feedback.
29. Have you ever written for an exchange or event of some kind? Which one(s)? Did you enjoy it?
Yeah, I like the events. My favorite was NH2020, the year-long one last year. I also enjoyed the Secret Santa last year since @badluckbrebis was my giftee.
30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.
haha😈
Ecstasy slides through his veins, blooming over his mind, cocooning him in pleasant sensations, cum shooting out in eager twitches against hot, milking flesh.
31. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?
Naruto Uzumaki, always.
32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from?
Top 3 faves in order:
That was the plan: "She shifts in his arms, and cloth and cleavage come pillowing up to his face, and he’s certain that she’s scooped from the same puffy stuff his adolescent daydreams were made of."
Tell Me of Forevers: "What he wouldn’t do to inspire every blush, every smile of hers for an eternity when such moments already only speak “forever” to him."
White Lilies: "Whether at his feet, in his eyes, ears, mind, if not reaching his heart, she never landed anywhere. (It’s okay.)"
I consider "White Lilies" to have my technically best writing, so it was kind of hard to choose just one line from that fic! But I decided that one's my favorite line from the whole story.
33. What do you like writing better: one shots or multi-chapter stuff?
One-shots.
34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?
A lot of my life experiences are in my writing. Hmm, I think readers probably think I'm...hmm...either empathetic or really perverted?
35. How much has writing fic changed your life?
I spend a lot less time on real-life social media than before.
36. Are there any fics or fandoms you’re embarrassed to have written or been part of?
I'm kind of embarrassed of "Honeymoon at the Hot Springs" lol. It's fine.
37. Give an update on your current WIP - if you don’t have one, give a sneak peek to a title or idea that you have and would like to write.
My current WIP is that A/B/O fic I started for February Smut Month Prompts: Sweet as Candy or Love Bites. I'm going to title it "Sweet As," and it'll be about how Naruto and Hinata become Alpha/Omega mates. It's really kinky, really smutty, and totally what I would want to read.
38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?
uhh???? a 1?? I've never once thought of my writing process as chaotic. Ahh, then I think of bunnyhoodlum's multiple drafts for the same chapter, and I realize that there exist types of writing processes that I would not be able to handle...
39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?
My smut.
40. How did you come up with the idea for [x fic]?
41. What’s your most popular fic (with the most notes on tumblr, most hits/kudos on ao3)?
Idk about Tumblr,,, maybe White Lilies got the most attention here. My most popular fic is Nightdreams on AO3.
42. Asker: pick three of the author’s works. Author: rank them 1 (the best) - 3 (the worst) based on whatever criteria you want - this could be something totally random that isn’t quality related (like simply ranking fics based on how many trains appear in them) - have fun!
43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember.
I will always remember how people congratulated me for finishing White Lilies😭 Also, when peppercornpresses made that FIRST art of my story, I just, I just stared at it all day.
44. Rant about something writing related.
hmmm, I don't feel like ranting about anything. I just recently ranted about my pet peeves above.
45. Fic specific questions - if you have any weird questions about specific works, here’s your shot to ask them!
I did them all! Nice questions.
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losing their V cards to each other? school/college AU?
Alright, so, I've never written smut before. Below the cut isn't, like, super explicit stuff, but it's definitely the smuttiest I've ever written, and I apologize in advance for it.
This is in the same 'verse as Winter Formal and The Guillotine!
no escaping your love #25: free fall (a high school au) (Read 1-24 here.)
Kate would never admit it, but she had a countdown set for when Anthony left for Brown. She looked at it every day, watching the numbers dwindle, no more than binary coded sands in a digital hourglass.
They couldn’t spend quite as much time together over the summer as they’d dreamed during the school year, when just carving out an hour felt impossible and the hope of warmer weather and no school guided them to the end of the line.
But Anthony was interning with the family business, and Kate worked long hours at the Mayfair Academy Summer Camp program with lots of screaming lower schoolers. When he wasn’t at work, he was once again looking after his siblings. When she wasn’t at work, Edwina was demanding rides to the mall, the pool, the movie theater, the park—her sister had truly never been so popular, or busy.
Sunday afternoon became their date night, the precious few hours they could claim together before work and family obligations consumed them. Even just walking hand in hand with him through the grocery store while she did the family shopping felt romantic, a glimpse into a future that might await them further down the line.
Emphasis on the further, of course. There was still her college to consider, and maybe law school, and all the different roads they could find themselves down in the coming years. Together or apart.
In July, the Bridgertons adjourned to their house on the Cape for two weeks, and Mary let Kate join for a weekend. She’d always loved the coast, and it was easy to see just how much happier Anthony was in the salty air, slowly tanning under the bright sun. For once, he looked eighteen years old as he played beach volleyball with her and Daphne and Colin, constructed drip castles with Hyacinth and Gregory, splashed in the waves with Francesca and Eloise, and made out with her in the study after dark. It was hard to leave when Mary picked her up on Sunday afternoon.
When there were nine days left on her countdown—the weekend before he was due to go away—they drove back there, just the two of them. Mary had sat her down before she got in the car for a sex talk and to give her condoms and Kate had squirmed. Just because they were going to be alone in the house didn’t mean they were going to have sex.
Not that Kate hadn’t been thinking about it, though. Providence was less than two hours from Boston, but he would still be leaving. She couldn’t compete with college girls: older, smarter, prettier than her. Hell, Edwina, technically still in her ugly duckling puberty days, was prettier than Kate. Would it hurt more or less if she gave him this piece of her forever?
(Look, virginity is a construct and women should not be shamed for their sexuality. But that doesn’t mean that having sex for the first time wouldn’t be a big deal, wouldn’t make him a lifelong memory that she’ll either get to cherish forever or need to toss.)
They went to a nice dinner and played card games in the sitting room as the sun slowly set. Once the moon was out and the families were gone, they changed into their swimsuits and ran out to the ocean. Diving under waves, trying to body surf. Kate even taught him how to do an underwater handstand. Talking and laughing and being young and alive and in love.
She floated on her back, letting the waves bob under her as she stared at the constellations, Orion blinking down at her. And into the silence she finally asked, “Is this goodbye?”
Hands wrapped around her ankles and pulled, making her shriek. Suddenly her legs were wrapped around Anthony’s waist, his gaze intense in the moonlight as he stared at her.
“What on Earth gave you that idea?”
“You leave in nine days and we haven’t talked about it? We’re here alone and everyone thinks we’re going to have sex? Those feel like goodbye signals to me. For good goodbyes.” She swallowed and kept her gaze firmly on the rocks over his shoulder as she quickly added, “And it’s okay if it is, really. It’s been wonderful, truly, but—”
“Do you want this to be goodbye?” he asked sharply, and she flicked her gaze back to him.
“Of course not!”
“Neither do I! I love you! I want to spend the rest of my life with you!” He froze, eyes wide, for just a second, but just as quickly his expression relaxed, and he warmed up to his theme, “Do you know how terrifying that feeling is?”
“You think I don’t feel it too?”
Instead of responding, he kissed her, pulling her close against him. And all of Kate’s anxieties flew out the window, carried away on the Cape breeze.
Anthony pushed them up so that he stood and she continued to hold onto him, arms looped around his neck and fingers tangling into his hair as her legs tightened around his waist. She hopped down, though, and they practically ran back to the house, stumbling up the stairs to his bedroom, drunk on each other.
“You have to tell me, okay?” he whispered in between kisses, looming over her on the bed. “What you like, what you don’t, if it hurts? Okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered, breathless, arching her back as he kissed a trail down her stomach, stopping just above the band of her bathing suit bottoms. He took advantage of the movement to reach around for the string tying her bikini together.
“Can I?” She nodded, but he didn’t move. Of course he wanted verbal consent. Truly, she hated how much she’d misjudged this man in September, how much time they’d wasted. But they had now.
“Yes!” she groaned, and he didn’t need to be told twice. He undid the bow at the back and the neck quickly, and then pulled it off her with similar speed. Only then did she notice just how much his hands were shaking. Good. He was nervous, too. It made her feel less guilty about just how loudly her heart was beating out of her chest.
“Wow,” he said as her whole body was laid bare before him, illuminated by the moon and the lamp on his bedside table. He swallowed, and she could see him straining against his swim trunks. This part she’d done before, and she reached down to cup him, feeling him and taking confidence from the way his breath hitched. Without another word, she pushed the trunks down.
“Goodness,” she said—she’d never fully seen it before—and he laughed.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
He looped his fingers on either side of her own bottoms and slipped those down, too. Suddenly there they both were, naked in front of each other for the first time, and Kate swallowed.
Despite the heady rush that brought them there, they went slow from then on. There was some awkward fumbling and breathless laughter when Anthony almost went in the wrong way, but afterwards, Kate goes to sleep feeling like the sexiest, most beautiful woman to ever walk the planet.
(Even though it means having to listen to Edwina’s innuendos for a whole two weeks.)
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Facebook: Is It Possibly Broken?
https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/facebook-is-it-possibly-broken/
Around the middle of 2022, I began to seriously wonder if Facebook may be broken. Yes, literally broken.
I mean, think about it. Facebook has gotten so big -- around two billion users, from what I have read -- that maybe its worldwide network of servers, bots and algorithms can no longer handle the load. Is it possible that there are simply way too many users, even though Facebook relies upon a global network of CDNs?
Now, obviously, I don't know this for a fact, and it is just a theory on my part, but I suspect that maybe this user overload is in large part the reason why so many errors have been made in recent months. I am talking about all of the false positives with Facebook's security system. In other words, I am referring to the forced log offs, the forced lockouts, having to jump through Facebook's security hoops so many times, having to change our passwords so many times, seeing our posts frequently removed, etc.
I know for a fact -- because my FB friends have told me so, and because I have experienced it many times myself -- that people are getting locked out, and logged off, of their accounts for the stupidest reasons. Furthermore, their posts are being removed when they have done absolutely nothing wrong. They haven't posted anything inappropriate. And that includes myself as well. In other words, we have NOT violated Facebook's "Community Standards" in any way, as far as I can tell. It makes absolutely no sense that these things are happening so much, and so frequently, unless there is some kind of ongoing systemic failure going on with Facebook.
Folks, I just don't believe that Facebook's head honchos are so stupid, that they would continue to harass us that much. Think about it. They are already under tremendous pressure from the U.S. government, and from other entities, due to their multiple security gaffs, their apparent discrimination against Conservatives and Christians, etc. So why would they go out of their way, and do anything to further infuriate their user base? From what I have read, people are already leaving Facebook in droves, because they are fed up with it. So again, is it possible that there are some serious technical issues going on which have little or nothing to do with discrimination against us?
I don't know how many of my related posts you have seen, but as I have already made really clear a number of times already, after almost nine years of virtual peace on Facebook, with near zero harassment, it became a real nightmare for me as of early October, 2019.
The problems and harassment by Facebook techs got so bad, that I finally deleted my account in June of 2022, only to return 3.5 months later in September of 2022. Of course, now I just run a timeline, and no page or group, so things have been a lot more peaceful. However, sadly, it appears that I am STILL being shadow banned, and hardly anyone is seeing my daily posts. I actually make hundreds of posts each month. I wonder how many of them you actually see in your news feed.
As I mentioned a minute ago, up until I opened my new Facebook account in September of 2022, I was being forced logged off and forced locked out of my account dozens of times. I was also forced to jump through Facebook's security hoops and change my password dozens of times over the course of three months. In May of 2022 alone, I was forced to upload my personal ID six times, which is why I finally got fed up and left in June of that same year. As if that is not enough, prior to shutting down my old account, literally hundreds of my posts were being removed.
So, yes, as I have stated before, it seems like it may have been intentional harassment due to my Christian faith. But I am beginning to believe that it is that, and even more. Technically, it just seems to me that something is seriously screwed up, and the Facebook staff just don't have a handle on it yet, whatever it is.
I could be wrong, but that is my suspicion. What do YOU think? Let us know.
By the way, you might want to read this article:
"Why I Am Fed Up With Facebook":
https://www.billkochman.com/Articles/fed-up-facebook.html
Thanks!
https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/index.php/facebook-is-it-possibly-broken/?feed_id=72429&_unique_id=646d2256e52df&Facebook%3A%20Is%20It%20Possibly%20Broken%3F
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percolating gently (noah x mc)
au in which jane marshall lives and mc and noah and jane run off to live happily ever after a family of three and also smut (if you don’t want to read that skip the section that goes “its christmas, technically”.
title from a tennessee williams quote
15k
It's the three of them in the end. Jane. Noah. And you. Just like it started. Just like it had been.
Always you caught up between the two Marshall twins; Jane’s hand in yours gripping tight and never backing down as she poured water into dirt to make mud. At nine, and never having shared Jane’s attention before, Noah had snubbed you on more than one occasion, shooting down watching Resident Evil just because you had suggested it.
It was funny how you'd befriended Noah first. Jane had a fever the week your parents moved to Westchester (to study some microbe that was super rare or some other incredibly niche nerdy thing). You'd been left to roam the neighborhood on your own as per usual, drawing trees and pets you wished for in chalk, and then Noah.
Noah.
Redfield- Jane’s let up at least a little. You're no longer stuck to that awful chair in terror but griping Noah's shoulders, your fingers clutching the fabric of his denim jacket because he can't, you won't let him take her place.
He's been through so much already.
They both had.
“Noah,” you stammer out, chilled to the bone from terror or the fact that you were in a damp and freezing underground chamber--probably both. “Noah, you can't!” You tighten your grip on him even as his frown deepens, anger clear on his features as he glares down at you.
You cut him off before he can snap at you. Looking over at Jane, no longer blazing, but hovering around, a shadow spilling into the corners of the room, eyes a cold blue without an ounce of friendliness or curiosity.
“I'm sorry,” you tell her, because this was all your fault. You should've never encouraged her. You should've saved her. You should've done more: anything but brush the memory of her away instead of dealing with the events of that summer. Denial had long been your method of choice but here Jane was. It had all been real.
You owe her this much.
And Noah-
“I promised I'd be there for you,” you think of the whistle, “I promised I'd protect you so that's what I'm going to do now,” you say even as your hands shake. “Let me take your place.”
You move to stand, but Noah doesn't budge, his head shaking as his agonized wide eyes meet yours. There's always been a sincere quality in the warmth of Noah's brown eyes that put you at ease and had you feeling like you two were the only people in the world and you could never say no to him; not now. He's a mess (just how you feel), beanie about to slide off his tangled hair, tear tracks down his cheeks. There's a pull in your chest, the painful need to throw your arms around him and hug him until the world stops being this shitty but you doubt you'd ever leave his side if you hug him now.
Noah shakes his head. “It should be me,” he utters into the eerie acoustics of the chamber, the horror of the situation audible in his voice. “It should have been me then. I can finally make things right.”
Your lip grumbles as you cry out, “don't say that,” your hand reaching up to cup his cheek, “don't you dare say that bullshit Noah-we were kids! None of this,” you look around, look at Jane, “this shouldn't have happened to anyone. And it wasn't anyone's fucking fault!”
If-when you got out of this, you were going to throw hands with Mrs. Marshall.
You used to wish she’d been your mother.
The shadow that is Jane inches closer.
Right.
It had to be you or him.
His skin was warm against your hand and you don't-you don’t think you can live in a world where Noah isn't there and he's had the shittiest time and you could've reached out but you didn't and he doesn't deserve this because he thinks he deserves this.
Noah thinks he should've died.
Fuck.
This was all so fucked up.
“It's okay,” Noah whispers softly, his hand covering yours before gently removing your hand from his cheek, removing your hold on him. “It's okay.”
“But-” you look at Jane.
You didn't know what was worse, a world without Noah in it or a world where Noah became some twisted monster the same way Jane had over the years of loneliness. No one started out a monster.
You shake your head, reaching for Noah's hand, “I promised I wasn't leaving you again.”
His eyes widen in shock, giving him that doe eyes look that sort of made you want to kiss him, as if he'd forgotten all about that moment, as if he thought he wasn't worth it but Noah deserved more than death. He should get to go to culinary school and deal with shitty customers at Baby Jane’s.
And it was too late to save the day.
If you were being honest, it was nine years too late. It was all about doing the best you could in impossible circumstances because Jane didn't deserve to spend an eternity alone and scared and a monster either.
Intertwining your fingers with his, you swallow thickly before replying in a steady voice, having made your choice the moment Noah had been willing to go find Dan alone, when he'd opened up to you at the shop and you realized all this time it hadn't just been you dealing with the repercussions of Redfield, “Together.”
You weren't going to fail Noah again.
Noah is speechless.
But Jane was always able to go with the flow. A shadowy limb ghost over both your hands, in the vein of those cheesy moments in anime when a best friend speech got everyone through a big battle.
“Allll play too g etherR.”
“Yeah,” Noah says sadly, accepting that there was no version of this ending that didn't end in tragedy. “together.”
At least this way, you could be monsters together.
“It's okay Jane,” he tells his sister, his hand squeezing yours, “we’ll take over from here.”
*
*
*
You wake up cold, thinking that you'd left your bedroom window open (not that you were doing much sleeping in that room after the Dan night terror) again, but you're greeted with the sight of Jane curled up asleep between you and Noah looking the same as she had at the many sleepovers you'd have at their house. You don't know if she's real or if this is a dream or if you're dead and this is just a figment of your new reality, but you don't care.
Finally, you understand the ending of Inception.
You don't want to wake them up, still exhausted yourself, but Jane keeps shivering and you can only imagine how worried your friends were. Your phone’s dead.
You couldn't stay here.
“Noah,” you whisper, the sound echoing throughout the chamber. “Noah…”
He grumbles in his sleep, but doesn't wake up.
“Noah,” you hiss.
“What,” Noah slurs, shifting as he lifts his head, jostling Jane at his side but your friend who was dead, was previously dead, continues to sleep looking like a particularly angelic little girl.
You can tell when the situation dawns on him: the twitch of his lips as his mouth settles into a frown, brows becoming drawn in thought.
It's day outside.
You're not sure which day.
Noah's phone is also dead.
Both of you stumble through the woods half asleep, Noah carrying Jane as if she was the most precious thing in the world which she was because she had been dead but now she wasn't and you were beginning to hope this was real and not a trick and that Jane was getting a shot at a normal childhood.
“We should go to my house,” you offer, keeping your voice low as to not disturb Jane who continued to sleep, no wonder Andy and Ava had been able to draw so many mustaches on her back in the day. “It's closer.”
And also you had no way of explaining how Jane had suddenly come back to life. That was something to process later. First a warm bed and sleep and then you had to let your friends know you weren't dead and figure out the whole Jane being alive with Noah. But first, sleep.
“Yeah, okay,” Noah answer’s, clearly still in shock. “Sounds good.” He says as if you two were discussing the weather and not sudden resurrection.
Then again, was this really that big of a leap considering everything that happened in the last few months?
You kick off your shoes and curl up with the Marshall twins to sleep.
*
*
*
“Why are you so much taller,” Jane asks once you’ve all woken up and yes, Jane’s still there, flesh and blood and the idea begins to solidify that she’s alive and well, well maybe not, you don’t know how much she remembers if at all and you still don’t know what to do with her but for now Noah’s rifling around your sparse kitchen, sending you a judgemental look at the half empty pancake box mix that expired a month ago but there’s no gross mold or anything so he uses it anyway, unwilling to leave Jane alone for a second.
Noah smiles easily, which has you smiling, “I’m not tall,” he replies to his sister, “you just shrunk.”
She frowns, nose wrinkling and you had forgotten she did that when she was upset, her nose wrinkling up as her lips turn downward. It was adorable. Then in classic Jane fashion she decides, “that’s a lie.” And sticks her nose up in the air, her fingers continuing to do whatever in your hair. It feels nice, her small fingers weaving clumsily through your thick hair, but Jane had never actually learned to braid so you’re pretty sure she’s just tangling your hair up but you wouldn’t refuse Jane anything right now.
It’s been days since the dance.
You have countless missed calls from your friends, texts getting increasingly and increasingly panicked, and nothing from either of your parents.
“Turn around,” Jane squeaks, tapping your shoulder urgently.
“Alright, alright,” you say, shifting in your seat. She’s tiny. All red hair and freckles and she hasn’t left your side since waking you up, knees in your side as she’d yelled that she was bored and wanted to play so loud it had woken Noah up.
Jane looks at you with a frown. “You’re big too.” Then her lower lip wobbles.
Shit.
Hastily, you pull her onto your lap, wrapping your arms around her.
“Why am I still small,” she whispers, looking up at you with the same wide brown eyes you were so used to.
“Uh,” you swallow thickly, trying to figure something out because maybe she didn’t remember and wasn’t that for the best? Wouldn’t that be the best case scenario? The only problem is you’re barely eighteen and not at all prepared to handle a nine year old. Had you really been this small when your parents decided to fuck off? “It’s because. . .you’re special, like Peter Pan.”
She crunches up her nose for a second, thinking. Then in her child innocence, she nods, deciding she likes the explanation. “You should’ve come with me,” Jane pats your cheek sadly, “grown ups are so boring.”
Noah wheezes, a pancake slipping off the spatula as his shoulders shake with laughter.
You hadn’t had time to talk about what had happened, what he had done, and you certainly hadn’t had time to process your feelings on any of it, but you were always glad to see him laughing.
“Someone had to take care of your dumb brother,” you reply, legs kind of going numb with her weight.
Jane nods sagely, “Noah is dumb. Because he’s a changeling.”
When you were kids, you’d both been obsessed with goblins and trolls and fairy tales. You two would dig in the dirt looking for hag stones. Sticks would double as magic wands and swords. The old fur jacket Jane liked to play dress up with was her selkie skin and you would take turns hiding it around the house.
Noah rolls his eyes. He hadn’t liked your weirdo kid games the first time around, he liked them even less now and you can’t help but grin at his expense. “You’re the redhead in the family.”
Jane blows a raspberry.
What a way to win an argument.
It’s past midnight before Jane crashes.
You’re on your third watch of frozen which had seemed like a great way to keep Jane inside the first time when you’d suggested it (kids loved that movie) and had become the worst, as Jane made you watch the movie again and again, singing “do you want to build a snowman” at the top of her lungs. That hadn’t stopped you and Noah from helping her find all the pillows in your house to build a castle with. Your living room has become a pillow castle fort.
During the second watch, Jane had dug around through your closet, before finding a blue hoodie you didn’t even remember you had and tying it around her shoulders. “You’re Anna,” she’d told you, giving you pigtails when she gave up on braids.
Now, she was asleep on the couch, drooling on her pillow.
Noah immediately turns off the TV. “You couldn’t have put on Shrek?”
You’re sitting next to him on the floor, finally giving into the urge to look at the news on your phone. You hadn’t risked it while Jane was awake. She was a nosy child.
You frown, “we need to tell the others.” Because this was really happening. Jane was alive and you didn’t know what to do with that. She needed. . .fuck-she needed school and parents and probably therapy if she remembered any of it. You were just eighteen. You had no idea what to do.
Noah’s responding frown mirrors yours. “What? Why!”
“She just came back from the dead,” you reply quietly. “She needs-fuck what are we going to tell your mom?”
His expression turns angry, brows furrowing. “Fuck her. She doesn’t deserve to know.”
“Noah,” you sigh, not wanting to argue with him because what was there to argue. His mom was a shitty parent. “Dan, Andy. . .they think we’re dead. They deserve to know after what happened. They deserve an explanation.”
He flinches.
“And besides-we’re in high school! What are we-what the hell are we going to do with her,” you say gently because you couldn’t keep her cooped up in your house. You had things like high school and maybe college if you could salvage this quarter. You didn’t have a job. “She needs parents. And school. And. . .” You throw your hand sup in the air. You had no clue what she needed. You weren’t a functioning adult. You didn’t know what kids need.
“She has me.” Noah hisses back.
You roll your eyes. “I know that-fuck Noah,” becuase he was getting angry with you when all you were trying to do was help. God, he could be so freaking dense sometimes. “She deserves a normal childhood. How the hell are we supposed to do that for her? Does she remember any of it?” You cross your arms over your chest and stare at your feet. The garish pink nail polish was still intact.
Didn’t people need birth certificates and stuff?
Lucas would know.
Lily could probably do her computer thing and help with that.
He falls silent, glaring at the blank TV screen.
Noah’s breathing is harsh and you wait patiently.
“I can drop out,” Noah finally says quietly. “Get a job. . .”
“I’m going to call Lily,” you reply. “We need groceries anyway.” Like hell were you leaving Jane for even a second. This time, you mean to keep your promise.
*
*
*
Jane bursts into tears when she sees all her friends grew up without her, eyes turning red as tears streamed down her eyes and she buried her face in Noah’s chest, refusing to budge. He rubs his hand comfortingly against her back, carrying her upstairs.
Even from the living room, still a mess, you can hear her sob upstairs.
“What the absolute fuck,” Lucas utters, taking a seat, resting his head in his hands.
“Explain,” Stacy urges, already unpacking the groceries you’d requested into your kitchen.
You do.
You go over the last couple of days, most of which you spent sleeping.
“I think it says a lot about how fucked our lives are that this is only like the second craziest thing to happen to us,” Andy mutters, pacing around the room. “I mean,” he says stopping near the kitchen island, “the whole town got brainwashed!”
“Does-does she remember,” Lily asks.
You shrug, “I. . .I don’t think so. Clearly she doesn’t know why we’re all older. Maybe it’ll come back to her?” You hope it doesn’t.
“So what are we going to do,” Lily says, looking around at everyone.
Dan speaks up, “Jane could have blocked out those memories. My therapist said that can happen with traumatic events.”
“That makes sense,” you find yourself saying, slumping in your seat. You think you could just finish high school at home. It’s not like your parents would know, or care. They’re not here. That way Noah can finish high school and you can look after Jane. But then what?
“Just so we’re all on the same page,” Ava asks rhetorically, “we’re just going to ignore the fact Noah tried to kill us?”
You flinch.
“Jesus fucking christ Ava,” Andy snaps, looking just as agitated as you’ve all felt for months.
“One crisis at a time,” Stacy complains, closing the cupboard door with a hard thunk, “I can only handle one crisis at a time.” Then she looks over at you, “are you-is. . .you can stay at my house if you need to.” No one suggests Noah and Jane going to their own house.
You shake your head.
At some point, you were going to hash things out with Noah, but it wasn’t exactly anger at Noah that you felt. It was hurt and the raw heart crushing betrayal. You know you hadn't been there for him when he needed you--for years-- but you thought, you wish he had just told you about Jane being Redfield.You would have helped, you would have done anything to help Noah and Jane and maybe no one would’ve needed to play are you scared at all. Fuck.
But no. You don’t feel scared at being here with him which was what Stacy was asking about. It hadn’t even crossed your mind even once.
But it feels too private to tell them that the three of you have been inseparable since the ruins. You’d spent last night curled up on the living room floor with him. But that knowledge was yours. You weren’t about to share that.
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” You don’t feel fine. “She can’t stay in Westchester can she?” Because you’re tired and want someone else to tell you what to do for once.
“Probably not,” Lucas answers tightly, still looking freaked out, eye twitching.
“It’s not a trick or anything. . .” Andy glances around.
You shake your head. Slowly, a plan forms in your head. Your parents would pay for your college, you’d apply out of state and take the Marshall twins with you. Instead of a dorm, you’d get an apartment. It could work.
Somehow.
“Have your parents called,” Dan asks gently.
“No,” you wave off. They weren’t important. Jane was.
“Have you thought about how you’re going to explain this,” Andy asks.
You wince. “Sort of. . .I don’t know.” You put your hands in your head.
It's Ava who wraps her arm around your shoulders, “we’ll figure this out.”
“Thanks.”
*
*
*
It's a familiar type of awful that Noah’s mom doesn’t really care that he’s spent the last six months living at your house.
With a great deal of arguing at 2 in the morning while lying next to a sleeping Jane, you’d managed to convince Noah to finish high school. And you’d promptly switched to homeschooling.
Lily had come through with Jane’s paperwork, now in your bag as your friends drop you off at the nearest regional airport.
You hold Jane’s hand, the only thing keeping her from running off as she takes the sight of the airport in. She’s thrown countless fits about being cooped up. But it was too risky for her to be seen in Westchester, a small town where everyone knew she’d died. The most you could do was your backyard.
So of course you’d made up for it by letting her pick your college.
“Someplace warm and sunny,” Jane had shouted excitedly, mind going crazy with plans as your acceptance letters came in.
Months on, it’s way less awkward even if Ava and Lucas have settled on ignoring Noah.
Andy hugs you hard. “Call when you land!”
You snort, “duh.”
Lily smiles and adds, “I might visit for spring break.”
“That would be great,” you tell her, tightening your hold on Jane as something catches her attention.
She pivots to Noah, who had the backbone of a toothpick when it came to telling Jane no which is why she keeps getting to skip brushing her teeth in the morning which was gross and she hated you for trying to chase her down, “I want that stuffed animal. If you give me that narwhal, I’ll eat my veggies.”
“You’re eating your veggies anyway,” you reply back, dragging her along.
“You won’t have to watch frozen tomorrow.” She continues, targeting her brother ruthlessly.
Noah’s already fishing his wallet out.
“That’s what you said about the hair color,” you point out, opting to carry her when she goes limp. “Don’t you dare Noah.”
Ava grins at you, amused and unhelpful.
“It’s just a toy,” he replies.
You roll your eyes.
“You two are such parents,” Andy laughs.
“I hate you,” Jane huffs. “We’re not friends anymore.”
“She told you,” Ava snorts.
Jane beams. Then reaches for Noah, who takes her from your arms without complaint.
You hug Lily one last time, and then. . .you’re going through security.
“I get the window seat,” Jane declares once you get past TSA.
“Go for it,” you tell her, belatedly realizing it’s going to be hell if it turns out she doesn’t like planes.
She nods, satisfied.
*
*
*
Tampa is no less humid and hot and awful a month in then it was when you first got off the plane but Jane loves it and there’s a park next to the building your living in: a tiny cramped apartment with only one room which went to Jane obviously which you and Noah had originally planned for you and Jane to share but both of you had capitulated to Jane’s demands within the day. She deserved being spoiled.
The A/C in Ikea was a godsend.
Sleeping on the floor with the bare necessities was not it and with you starting school next week, it was time to take your meager savings and get some furniture.
“Remember,” Noah says, pulling up the list on his phone. It had started with him grocery shopping since he cooked and needing to make a grocery list to Noah just taking over figuring out how to make the money your parents sent and his own contribution from his new job work. “Sofa bed. Bed for Jane. Blankets. One lamp. And a mattress.”
“Weren't you complaining about only having one pan this morning,” you ask as Jane drags you along to the first showroom, practically bouncing with energy.
Noah shrugs. “I can make it work.”
“Buying an extra pan won't kill us,” you counter. “We can just use my credit card.” And not eat out for the rest of the month, you didn't add.
“Let's play hide and seek,” Jane says with excitement. “I'll seek.”
You exchange glances with Noah.
Tomorrow you had to go sign her up at school. You had to go over the story with her again. Just to make sure you didn't all get in trouble.
Jane covers her eyes. “One. Two. . .”
You look around the tiny space, thinking of where to hide. Between school and Jane you weren't sure when you could or even if you could get a part time job. Noah was working at a diner during the evenings. You had gotten your classes early in the morning so you could be home with Jane while he worked. The problem was finding the extra free time to work.
Ugh.
Being an adult was hard.
But how much of an adult could you be when your parents were paying your tuition?
You head for the tiny bathroom which has a neat looking toothbrush holder and isn’t that something you need to buy? There were so many little things like a bath mat and towels and a dish rack that were only just occurring to you that were sort of essentials and jeez you really had one foot in adulthood. You don’t even hide behind the curtain, worried that Jane won’t find you easily and freak out and there’s weirdos everywhere. It was your job to look after her now. Not that Noah had asked for your help, but it was a given.
“Eight. . .nine. . .” Jane’s little voice carries and you’re struck by a flood of emotions that has your eyes tearing up.
Noah steps into the bathroom next to you, “we need a cutting board,” he says so seriously you can’t help but snort.
“What,” he asks, shaking his head at you.
“Nothing.”
He tilts his head.
You shrug, “just thinking. I don’t know. I don’t feel very grown up. And I took all the dumb towels my parents stockpiled for granted.”
“We should’ve raided your house,” he agrees, the corner of his lips lifting, “purge style.”
“Yeah,” you nod, “I never get why everyone jumps straight to murder. What does Ava always say? Redistribute the wealth, rob a bank.” You roll your eyes, scoffing, “murder.”
Noah snorts. “Pretty sure that’s Lucas. Ava’s more of a go straight to cutting people’s heads off.”
“Robespierre style,” you grin.
“Robes who?”
“Robespierre. From the french revolution.”
“I think that’s the class I must’ve ditched,” Noah admits.
You frown. “You could do community college,” because you had to corner him at some point. Noah was very good at avoiding subjects he didn’t want to talk about. “We could make it work. Do your G.E.’s”
Noah shrugs.
“Noah-” Because he said he wanted to go to culinary school and you get the urge to drop everything and buy a ranch in utah and live with Jane for the rest of your lives except Jane would hate that and grow up and leave and how are you going to afford spoiling her if you can’t get a decent job? Noah deserved to go for his dreams too.
None of you had to be defined by your incredibly shitty childhood.
Jane pops in, “found you!” She giggles in her Baby Yoda t-shirt and leggings, “you two are bad at this game! My turn!” Jane grabs Noah’s hand and drags him along to the next showroom that catches her eye, “remember,” she lectures you both, “no peeking,” before shooting off.
“What did you end up choosing for your major,” Noah asks, as you both fail to keep your eyes closed, looking over at the sofa section. It would be so freaking nice not to sleep on the carpet anymore.
“History,” you admit, “though I’m not sure it’ll stay like that. I don’t know exactly what I want to do after college. Or if I even like history enough to major in it. . .it just sounded fine at the time.” You had done well in APUSH. That had to mean something. But you had also liked your economics class. . .maybe you should do economics? “I really have no clue. Has it been ten seconds?”
“Probably,” Noah says with a smile, “nine, ten, coming to find you,” he calls out.
It’s a living room showroom, and yet Jane had managed to squeeze herself right behind a floor lamp and the TV stand. She’s a slip of a girl, but her red hair makes her easier to spot. Thank god.
“Let’s go pick out things for your room,” you offer, because you still have to go downstairs and find all the different pieces and then still go home and put them together. Thank god for uber. Oh shit, did this mean you had to get a car at some point? How do people buy cars?
“Okay,” Jane nods, immediately taking off, and she has you and Noah speed walking after her, on the border of a full out run. It was hard to be annoyed when you were still so happy to wake up in a world where Jane was alive and here and who cares that it took three hours to get her to stand still long enough to comb her hair and putting her to bed was a long drawn out affair of a bedtime story and a snack and needing to be tucked in and checking on all her toys and deciding she needed a glass of water next to her just in case she woke up thirsty.
It was worth it.
You liked not living alone.
You liked not being alone.
*
*
*
You weren't sure who was more exhausted as you finished washing the dishes. Jane was sleeping, thank god. The nice thing about Florida was it was fall and it was still warm enough to spend the evening at the park so Jane could tire herself out while you read fifty pages of your history and sociology textbook. It was what all the other moms did and you winced when Jane asked to join the soccer team that practiced at the park by your building because you didn't have the money and you could only hope she didn't ask Noah because he came home tired enough but for Jane he'd take more shifts.
There was laundry you didn't want to do and a quiz in english which was a nice class even if everyone was half asleep at 7:30 in the morning because your professor was somehow awake enough to engage and rant about short stories that thankfully weren't the same ten dead old white men you'd read in high school but actual people alive today whose english you could understand. It's night, so you don't bother drying the dishes before turning off the light. Noah had brought food which showed how tired he was. Yesterday's leftovers had saved you from attempting anything because you sucked in the kitchen as your poor microwave could attest: aluminum foil and microwaves don't mix.
Noah’s already asleep when you slide into bed next to him. You can still smell the scent of oil and grease on his skin even as you stay decidedly on your side of the bed.
It's mid september in Tampa and it's still warm and it doesn't stop you at all from curling up with a blanket.
The window panes are cracked open letting in the soft moonlight and you lay in bed, brain melted from class and reading, and look at Noah's profile and how much lighter he looked compared to a year ago. The lines around his mouth from frowning had eased; Jane teasing out a side of him that had previously shriveled up.
It's done him good to get away from his mom. To have his sister. You just wish you could do more for him.
Like he was doing for you and Jane.
You drift off to sleep. . .
“Move over,” a small voice asks, and your eyes crack open to the dark of the room and Jane a hair's breadth away with wide scared eyes, a pillow hugged to her chest. Her voice is raw, as if she'd been crying.
You move over, brain sleep addled, to make room for her.
She slips in besides you, immediately curling up in your chest the way she does when she decides she's done walking for the day: the way she runs up to Noah when he gets home from work.
“Did you have a bad dream,” you mumble, not wanting to wake up her brother.
“I don't know.” Jane admits, “I just don't want to sleep alone.”
“I thought you wanted your own room,” you tease, a little more awake now.
“I do,” she cries out loudly in the dark of the night.
You can just imagine her pouting even if you can't see her, your eyes falling shut again. “Okay. You can sleep over tonight.”
“Yay,” she whispers back. “We should draw a mustache on Noah.”
You snort, “too late. He hasn't bothered shaving in like two days.” It was a good look on him: stubble. You'd teased him ruthlessly, almost choking on your water when he'd gone pink.
Jane giggles.
“Go to sleep,” you tell her. “You have school.”
“So do you.”
“Sleep.”
“Tell me a bedtime story.”
“Jane,” you whine, rolling over away from her, because she sure wasn't going to stop. “Sleep.”
*
*
*
“Where the fuck are my shoes,” Noah says, as he stumbles around trying to find his things.
You should've folded the laundry last night. Instead, it was a pile on the floor, clean, but a mess. You had parent teacher conferences today, and of course you were rushing at the last minute. Between finishing a paper for sociology and ditching class because of the conference and it's not like your statistics professor took roll call, you were still in a towel, freshly showered.
“Check the hall closet. I told Jane to clean last night and I'm like one hundred percent sure she just stuffs everything in that closet. Dan's right, we're fucking her up by spoiling her too much.” You search the pile of clothes for a nice dress. Was that right for a parent teacher conference? You were 18, what did you know? Besides, you were like guardian adjacent. Not a parent.
“Okay,” Noah replies when you hear the door open and why can't you find any clean underwear, you just did laundry this is insane and you have like five minutes to leave or you will be late, “but why'd she only put away one shoe?”
“Don't goblins only steal left shoes or something,” you reply, finding clean underwear but giving up on the bra. You'd go with a blue and white plaid dress. It wasn't too revealing for school even if it was one of those back of the closet dresses you never actually wore.
You slip your underwear on under the towel as Noah reappears in jeans and a t- shirt, freshly shaved. “What if they ask too many questions?”
“They won't,” you wave off. “And if they do we can just lie.”
“You're a bad liar,” Noah teases, rifling around in the kitchen.
You toss the towel aside, trying incredibly hard to act cool and calm when you weren't anything but, as you go to pull the dress over your head. It's not like you were flashing him. You sleep next to Noah every night.
But then why did you feel so flustered right then. “Am not!” You squawk indignantly, turning over to look at him as your dress goes over your head and your boobs are no longer hanging out for the world to see (there was a point to curtains after all).
Noah goes bright pink when he realizes your half naked in the living room, as if he hasn't slept next to you for close to a year now but then again, you used to sleep in an old shirt and underwear and now you've got matching pjs because Noah and yeah you should probably do something about that like you had wanted to since the party ages ago now but there had been Redfield and Noah admitting he was in a terrible headspace and it wasn't the time and now. . .you brush the thought aside for now. You roll your eyes (because your cool and calm even if your heart’s beating erratically) and grab your purse, before joking, “so are you going to get a haircut or are you going to do the man bun thing.”
Noah groans, “Jane told me I looked like homeless dog.”
“Ouch,” You laugh, “when she say that?”
“She woke me up again last night but I got her to go to her bed this time.” He admits as you walk to Jane’s school.
“Again?” Fuck maybe she was having nightmares after all. “It has to be nightmares, but. . .” you trail off.
“I don't know,” Noah shrugs, “she says she doesn't remember. Just wakes up. But like why else would she keep waking up if it's not nightmares,” he frowns.
“Do you think they could be,” you purse your lips before continuing not wanting to be the one to bring it up but you sort of had too, “you think it's redfield related.”
“I really don't know,” he says, looking over at you with a sad smile.
Smiling softly, you squeeze his hand as you wait for the white pedestrian sign, “hey, she's got us. She'll be fine.”
Which makes you think about how Andy was right. You were such a mom. Had you mom-zoned yourself? That was good, you'd have to text that to Andy later.
Then you sigh, realizing that if you had a nightmare back then, your parents wouldn't have even been home for you to wake up. There had been weeks spent at Pine Springs and driving over to some niche science conference in Rochester or over to New Haven for a lecture.
“What,” Noah asks, intertwining your fingers with his as you cross the street.
“Just realizing how shitty my parents were,” you offer with a sad smile. What could you do about it now? You'd grown up.
“Just now,” Noah quips with a smirk.
You roll your eyes, “shut up.”
Jane’s teacher, an older black woman who's style leans close to Lily's own preppy academic choices, looks at you both skeptically. “You’re here for Jane Marshall's conference?”
Both you and Noah nod.
She doesn't look reassured.
You bump Noah's knee with yours, hoping he'll say something to clear things up. Neither of you looked old enough to be her parents. You had a serious case of baby face.
“Uh,” he says, still an eighteen year old who's spent most of his life bowing down to teachers authority. You understood, still feeling strange going to the bathroom during lecture without asking for permission. “I'm Jane’s brother.”
You nudge him again when it's clear he's done taking.
“Noah,” he manages.
You roll your eyes. “We’re her guardians,” you had gone over the story hundreds of times, “their parents passed,” you look down at you lap trying to look sad, “a few months ago.”
“Oh,” Jane’s teacher, Miss Sanders, says sympathetically. “I'm sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah well,” Noah trails off.
“Well Jane is a very outgoing girl,” Miss Sanders says, launching into her talk, “she's made lots of friends though sometimes getting her to be quiet during class time can be a challenge. She's at her grade level for reading and math. She does need more practice with writing longer sentences and,” she shuffles papers around, flipping through a red folder, before taking out some childish drawings. “These had me worried but in light of the loss she is going through, I think it's understandable.”
Each drawing is a variation of a theme: huge black blobs make up most of the page, with occasional stick drawings differentiated by hair color. Jane is obviously the girl with the red hair and triangle body. Redfield, she remembered something then.
Could it be subconscious?
You feel the blood leave your face as you look over at Noah. He looks just as shaken as you.
“It's normal for children going through the loss of a loved one, especially parents,” Miss Sanders tries, “to work through it in drawing and writing. But we could always let her talk to the school psychologist. Mrs. Hernandez is a wonderful child therapist.”
“Do you think it would help,” you ask, wondering if it was a good idea when Jane’s actual problem was of the supernatural variety. Maybe they would just assume that was her imagination, or her way of explaining away a loss.
“It couldn't hurt.”
You look over at Noah, slipping your hand into his, giving him an encouraging squeeze in his palm. It was his sister. It should be his call.
He pulls his hand out of yours, straightening up in the chair. “Yeah. That could be good.”
“Okay. I'll let Mrs. Hernandez know. That and make sure Jane’s reading books for AR. Her goal this year should 40 points if she wants to be part of the end of the year celebration.”
“I'll figure out where the library is,” you nod, “I'm sure she can find books while I study.”
“Sounds perfect. Any other questions.”
You look at Noah who shakes his head. He was starting to need a haircut. Even if you did like the way he looked with his hair loose.
“Alright then. It was lovely to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Marshall.”
“Oh,” heat builds up in your cheeks.
“We're not-”
“I'm not-,” you stammer, “I'm just a family friend.”
“Oh,” Miss Sander says, “I'm-sorry for assuming.”
“It's fine,” you manage, starting to leave. “Thank you. It was good to meet you.” You shake her hand, wanting to die inside.
“Nice to meet you as well,” she shakes Noah's hand and then you can finally leave.
You both hurry out the classroom, out the school.
“So that was,” Noah says, raising a brow.
“awful,” you finish. “But there were no red flags and we got free therapy out of it.”
Noah laughs, “I think we probably all need some therapy.”
“Rewatching arrested development isn't cutting it anymore,” you grin.
“I do feel like Gob most days.”
“Good,” you laugh.
“Really?”
“I don't trust people who identify with Michael. No self awareness.”
Noah laughs, “they are all horrible people.” His face becomes drawn, as he tucks loose strands of hair behind his ears. “How much do you think she remembers?”
You shrug, placing your hand on his arm. “I think it's probably bits and pieces. She did spend years and...she doesn't have nightmares? That's a good sign right? It's been months, she's not some creepy horror movie child?”
“Of course not,” he nods, looking down at you, with a frown. “She's fine. Jane's good.”
You smile shakily. “We're doing amazing. And she's happy if she hasn't stopped watching disney vlogs. No clue how we're going to swing that one if she asks.”
Noah matches you’re unsure smile, “take her to those rich people parks and call it disney.”
You snort. “It's Jane. That won't fool her.”
“It's Florida. We can just go to the beach.” He says with a shrug. “It'll be just as good.”
“Aren't there alligators though?”
Noah laughs at your expense. “Those are in the lakes and rivers.”
“Shut up. Want to go for pizza before you go to work?”
“Let's go get Indian food actually. There's this place I've been meaning to try but Jane’s-”
“Picky as fuck,” you say pointedly. “Like you used to be.”
Noah blushes. “Okay so my mom just cooked like kraft mac and cheese. That wasn't my fault.”
“And those pizza bites! I loved those,” you add, thinking back on all the sleepovers at their house as a kid. “I think when Jane came over was the only time I'd get to use peanut butter.” Your parents weren't around, but your nanny was philippina, you ate spice before kids discovered hot cheetos were delicious.
He snorts, running a hand through his hair. “We should probably get a car at some point.”
“Face it bro, we're broke. I keep wanting to tell you to get a haircut but we're broke.”
Noah raises a brow. “Fuck off. I look like post-Beatles George Harrison.”
“You wish you looked like George Harrison,” you tease.
The food was amazing. Lunch indian buffets were where it was at. And since you don't have a class right after, you offer to walk Noah to work, “I've got to walk off the food baby,” you tell him, before you head back to pick Jane up.
Noah laughs, “The malai kofta was just too good.”
“I should've stopped at three plates but buffets always make me think it's a food contest,” you admit. “My nanny would take me to this seafood buffet with her family around lunar new year and we’d spend all day there to try and eat our money's worth.” It had been your favorite holiday as a child, after your parents had decided you were old enough to be left behind, only a handful of years after they decided you were old enough to bring along with them, and you hadn't seen them even at christmas.
“Damn,” Noah says with an easy smile, “at least I had good times with my parents.” His smile is so fragile. That just means it hurt him more when things fell apart.
“I had nice times too. . .with your family.”
Noah cackles.
You cross the street to the diner he works at next to a retirement complex with what you think are the best waterfront views next to the hotels you can't afford.
It's strange.
Your entire life, Noah has been this huge part of it and you've always lived in a tiny town so you knew everyone he did and knew what he got up to just by living near him in a town of like 500 people or what felt like such a small amount, your elementary school only had one class for each grade but now you hug Noah goodbye even though he always tenses against you, as though he's unused to the physical affection and that just makes you hold him tighter, then he's heading inside and greeting people you probably will never know and he's having this whole part of his life your not a part of and one day he's going to go on and live his life without you and it hurts: watching him laugh with some waitress that's tall blonde and beautiful in a way you've never been.
It hurts but you suck it up and go pick Jane up from school.
“Don’t worry,” your friend says, holding your hand once she realizes you've been standing at the water's edge. It's warmer than you'd imagined as it laps at your bare feet.
Jane has not stopped smiling since you'd bought her a bathing suit at Target: a pink one piece with sloths. You'd been more nervous, not knowing how to swim. You also felt every single bite of pasta you'd had last night in your black bikini.
Damn Noah for being so good at cooking.
“I've got you,” Jane says, leading you out further into the water, over to where Noah's out, up to his waist and you're pretty see it's deeper than Jane is taller, but if Jane can do it-a wave, a massive looking wave comes crashing towards you both.
You don't hesitate to run away.
Noah points and laughs.
You flip him off once the wave passes, leaving your hair wet.
Jane grins. “It's okay. I won't let you drown.” She pulls you back out again, a perfectly happy water baby. She always had been fearless. And unlike you, as the water deepens, she starts to swim alongside you.
“See,” she laughs, “it's easy.” Then she pops down under.
You make it to Noah, figuring the water wasn't that crazy. No tsunami like waves to pull you out to sea and drown you.
Jane comes up for air, “I'm Jaws,” she yells at Noah, tackling his side.
“Ooof,” he says, exaggerating, “oh no, a shark, I'm. . .dead dying. . .”
Jane giggles.
“Do not,” you warn her. “I'm barely here as is.”
Noah rolls his eyes and you have a feeling there about to roast you: both of them.
“It's just a little water,” he teases.
“It's not even that deep,” Jane adds. “It's the beach!” She pops back down under the water as another wave rolls towards you.
“Fuck,” you mutter, tensing, as the wave soaks what's left of your dry hair, splashing salty water into your mouth.
Jane pops her head back up, strawberry hair plastered to her head, smiling so wide. It's November and it's still warm enough to go to the beach. Even the rain here isn't cold that way it was back home.
The world was so much bigger than Westchester.
Noah reaches his hand out to yours. You take it easily, stepping closer to him, pushing your wet hair out of your face.
He had the right idea, now looking more like the fifth beatle than a shaggy haired hippie. Less to deal with at the beach.
“You okay,” he smirks.
“Shut up. I can't swim. You know that.” You'd complained about it a hundred times as they both forced you off the pile of towels where you had planned to read through your notes. Studying, it was gross.
“You're,” Noah rolls his eyes, “it's like three feet. You're not going to drown.”
“What if,” you counter, “I trip and swallow water and drown.”
“That's not going to happen. What you can't stand up?”
“Don't,” you warn.
He smirks, “it's because you're short.”
“Asshole,” you say, smacking his bare chest. Nothing you haven't seen, you tell yourself. Act normal, you reminded yourself.
“It is!” Noah crouches down a couple inches to your height.
You roll your eyes-
-and laugh when Jane launches herself onto her brother's back.
“I'm an orca!”
Noah lets go of your hand to regain his balance. “Wow there shamu.”
Jane frowns. “Sea world is evil. Ava and I watched Blackfish.”
You vaguely remember some orca documentary that you had mostly slept through. Taking care of Jane was hard and you had fallen asleep in those early weeks whenever you got the chance.
“No seaworld then,” you shrug.
“But I do wanna go to Disneyworld. I wanna go on the star wars ride!”
“You don't even watch Star Wars,” Noah points out.
“I would if we went to Disneyworld. My birthday is coming up.”
“No it's not,” you frown. They were April babies.
“I think you mean my birthday,” Noah says playfully.”
“I was born first,” Jane yells.
“So, I'm taller.”
You roll your eyes, sinking down to your neck. The water was nice. “You better throw yourself into the water if I start drowning,” you warn Noah.
“Yeah yeah,” he says with a soft smile, “I'm not going to let you drown.”
Jane nods in agreement, “I'll kick him if he does.”
You laugh, happy to spend the days with the Marshall twins.
Bells don't ring, but the whole class knows when class is over, shoving their papers away into bags as soon as there's a minute left.
You leave English happily enough. It was a fun class, with plenty of movies and conversation that you were able to make friends in, unlike other lecture heavy classes where you had five minutes before class to talk during.
Sasha and Kevin both walk with you out of the lecture hall. “Have you started studying for the midterm,” Sasha asks, “I really don't want to write two in class essays. Multiple choice is where it's at.”
“I'd rather have an in class essay,” Kevin says, “and Professor Laux said it's just one. But he'd give us two prompts.”
You wrinkle your nose. “I love english I just hate the writing part. Or rather the long essays.”
“At least your not a computer science major,” Sasha counters, “physics is so much worse.”
“Not as bad as o chem.”
“O chem is not that bad,” Sasha counters.
You shrug, “art history major,” you grin smugly.
Kevin shakes his head, “just wait until you have to find a job.”
“Grad school. Both my parents love that shit. They'd help me pay for it.” They both had Ph.Ds.
“I wish my parents helped me pay for school,” Sasha complains again, “they are such hard asses about school but they want me to pay for everything, and live at home-can you imagine how many house parties I've missed to work at the movie theater.”
“Speaking of house parties,” Kevin pushes his glasses up his broad nose, “we're throwing this pre thanksgiving bash at my place. Beer. Snacks. Weed.”
“Shouldn't you be studying for midterms,” you ask, shaking your head. You also hadn't figured out what you were doing for the holiday. You had Jane and Noah now. It had to be special.
“Pfft. I will,” Kevin says. “You're only twenty once am I right?”
Sasha shakes her head. “Okay. But I'm stealing some weed.”
“You in?” They both look at you.
Noah's off Monday and Wednesday, when you get out too late to go pick up Jane. You can't leave her by herself, not that you would want to. You were looking forward to going to waste time at the mall and buy snacks at target: your usual Friday night.
You shake your head, “Can't. I've got Jane on the weekends. Babysitters are expensive.”
“Just tell your parents to look after your sister,” Kevin says petulantly.
You hadn't really explained things. It was complicated. Redfield had really messed up your life. Jane should be your age and going to house parties with you. But you'd have her alive in any shape or form so long as you got to see her. “Umm, actually,” you decide to explain a little, the practiced version, “her parents died a few months ago. They were-they were really close family friends and practically raised me so,” you trail off, thinking about how exactly to explain Noah. He was your best friend, a childhood friend, and. . .that was it.
“Oh shit, I'm sorry.”
“Yeah-”
“Well, if you're even able to figure it out,” Kevin says, “hit me up.”
You wave them goodbye and rush to your next class.
*
*
*
Noah's hair is still damp as he lays down on his side of the bed.
You were still going over your art history notes, wanting to go over the dates of the list of paintings you'd have to identify on tomorrow's quiz. The names were easy since styles even within art movements varied so much. It was a little harder in regulated art worlds: the buddhists of southeast asia didn't go outside their geometric ratios.
“You've been studying all day,” Noah says with a yawn. He no longer smelled like burnt oil.
“Yeah, I have a quiz.” You're sitting cross legged on your side of the bed. “It's on art identification.”
“That's what googles for,” he snarks back.
It was past midnight. Jane had been asleep for three hours.
“Smart ass.” You shut your notebook. The numbers had started swimming in your eyes a while ago. Nothing more was going to stick in your brain.
You turn off the light on your side.
“You're the smart one,” Noah laughs, “I'm just an asshole.”
“Oh,” you smile in the dark, highly aware of his body laying next to you, carefully keeping your leg from brushing against his skin. “You're self aware too!”
“Dick.”
“Takes one to know one.”
You lay in silence, listening to the sounds outside your windows, the cars passing by even at this hour, Noah breathing next to you. It was soothing, having people you loved with you. It wasn't lonely being home all the time.
Noah shifts onto his side: facing you.
You stare up at the ceiling, black from the curtains pulled right even as the window let the breeze in. It had been raining the past few days, but the cold days don't hold a candle to Westchester this time of year.
“Thank you.”
“For what,” you ask, smiling freely.
“What do you mean,” he pitches his voice higher, “for what? For everything.”
You giggle. “I haven't done much.”
Noah's tone is dead serious the next time he speaks. “You didn't have to help . . .with Jane. I don't know how I would've made it work without you, so yeah. Thank you. I didn't even ask-I wouldn't have asked you to give up college and partying-”
You have to stop him right there. “I didn't give shit up Noah.” He could be so dumb sometimes. If he had just told you Jane was Redfield, you would've helped him from day one to save her. But there was no point in bringing that up: just more salt in the wound. “And you didn't have to ask me: I wasn't just going to let you flounder alone. I wanted to-I wanted to be with you and Jane. That was never a question.” Heat flares up in the skin of your cheeks and nose as you smile, before you turn onto your side, looking over at Noah in the dark.
You can't really see him at all.
Thank fuck.
It's bad enough that you feel so flustered you might explode from the emotions swirling about in your chest. You don't know what to do about Noah, about your feelings for him.
Months ago, you would've just bitten the bullet and kissed him, but he'd also opened up about not feeling ready at all about relationships and you will not fuck things up for either of you. It had been easy with Connor when all the lights were green as he was clearly into you and responded right back.
It had been light and a way to not think about the terror of your day to day life for a few moments.
But it wasn't Connor you thought about so much your skin got all hot as you looked out the window during lecture.
You swallow thickly, squashing those feelings into some back corner of your mind.
“Thank you though, I don't know what I would have done without you.”
“Don't be dumb. It's getting rid of me that'll be hard.” You could admit now, “Now that I know what it's like to have people in the house to kill spiders, I'm never leaving,” you felt lonely in your childhood house all through high school.
“I don't think Jane would let you leave.” Noah laughs.
“True,” you sigh. “it's nice not to come home to an empty house.”
“Our childhoods were so messed up,” he replies softly.
“It's like the gift that never stops giving. But hey, who cares. I have you two and my parents monthly deposits-and FAFSA!” You laugh, because what else could you do, wallow in self deprecating angst like Noah? You weren't sure you could beat him at his own game. “As far as I'm concerned, you're my family now. . .both of you.”
“When did you become a walking talking greeting card?”
“Asshole.”
Noah laughs.
It's a sound you love. For so long, it had been so rare. It warms you up, blots out all the horrible shit you've gone through and makes everything okay.
You fall asleep smiling.
*
*
*
Sasha settles in your ikea bland table with her bag full of notebooks and textbooks. “I wish I had my own place.”
Next week was finals.
Next week was going to kick your ass.
Matthew looks up from his calculus solutions manual for the first time in an hour, “it really depends on the roommates, mine eat all my snacks.”
“Hide them in your room,” you suggest, opening your computer up to the study guide the TA had sent out last week. “With your underwear or something.”
Jane giggles as she watches spongebob on the TV. Fourth graders had it easy. The upcoming winter break meant Jane was practically doing arts and crafts all week.
You open up a notebook to a fresh page as you write down all the key items from the study guide, underlining key items. You wanted to knock the art essays out of the park. It wasn't as easy to bullshit those as it was to make up themes for an english paper.
Fuck, you were already pretty much done with a semester at college.
Jane had almost been back for over a year.
“Can I see your midterm,” Sasha asks, “I want to see what comments you got.”
You fish it out from your binder. “Go for it.”
Matthew looks up from his pages worth of calculus, “I hate math. I should've just done an anthropology major.”
“Sucks to be an overachiever,” you snark, annotating your notes with a pink gel pen. You had never cared to study much in high school, but a major you actually cared for made all the difference in the world. You wanted museums and van goghs and the asmr of cleaning paintings like in youtube videos.
“I didn't think double majoring would be like this,” Matthew sighs. “I haven't slept in three years.”
Sasha shakes her head, “just go for the one you like the most.”
“So I can be unemployed with tons of student debt?”
“Or get that grant money,” you wiggle your eyebrows. It was what your parents were up to.
“That would mean a PhD,” he complains, but doesn't look completely turned off by the idea. “And I could put off figuring my life out for another four years. . .”
Sasha laughs, flipping through flash cards with a bunch of arrows and equations written on them. Physics.
Intro to Biology was so much easier. You practically only had to remember high school biology and read through the study guide a few times. You could remember the difference between eukaryotic cells and prokaryotic cells.
Sasha suggests ordering Pizza hut as Jane starts asking for food and you feel like yeah, a study break sounds good.
“Four hours is the max people can concentrate for,” Matthew says, as he eats a third slice of pizza.
“So we're done for the day,” Sasha asks, getting up to stretch, and joining Jane on the couch. She'd been an angel, sort of, content to just watch tv all afternoon as you studied. Sure, she'd raised the volumes to movie theater standards every half an hour, but other than that-an angel.
“If you're good for the day.” You were nervous. You didn't want to be a C student anymore. You wanted to try. Surely you had inherited some of your parents brain cells.
“I am,” Sasha admits. “I've been studying every day for four hours. My brain has melted.”
“Honestly,” Matthew says, “I just started studying. The semester seemed so long.”
“Same though bro,” You grin. “All the tests and quizzes went right out of my mind as soon as I was done.”
Sasha shakes her head. “Well, I'm taking a slice for the road. See you around.” She leaves.
Jane joins you and Matthew at the table, licking the pizza grease off her fingers. “I like Noah's pizza better.”
You wince. A cook you were not. “Well, he's working.”
“I know.”
“Noah?” Matthew says, clearly a question.
“My brother,” Jane says flippantly. “They sleep together.”
You're face burns; you want the earth to swallow you whole right then and there. “We live together,” you explain to Matthew who looks more confused. “Jane go watch TV.”
She sends an annoyed look at you, before running off.
“Noah's her brother. They're family friends-” you explain lamely.
“You don't have to explain anything to me,” Matthew says sweetly. “It's your business.”
“Yeah,” you push your hair behind your ears, feeling out of whack. Matthew was cute, but it wasn't like you wanted to jump his bones. He made sociology bearable. “Can you look over my paper? I'm still not sure I got the sources incorporated right-”
“Yeah. Sure. I didn't know sociology 101 would include writing research papers.”
“Everything was going good until I remembered we had that paper due,” Matthew agrees.
You study for another hour, mostly giving each other feedback on your research paper. “It would've helped if he'd given us examples,” you mutter.
“Right.”
Jane tugs on your arm. “Come play with me,” ignoring your classmate entirely.
“Yeah. Sure,” you smile tiredly. You were at your study limit. “Want to call it a night,” you ask Matthew who nods and grabs his things.
Jane scrutinizes him the entire time. She puts her hands on top of the empty pizza box.
“I don't like him,” she pouts, “He's boring. Who studies?”
“Boring college students,” you laugh. “He's fine. We have sociology together. We're also taking english literature pre 1800s together next semester. It was that or latin literature which sounds really pretentious.”
Jane giggles. “Let's play uno!”
“Okay, but just one game. You still have to take a shower before bed.”
“I don't want to take a shower,” Jane protests, “I want to be a horrible reeking troll! Rawr!” She chases you around the living room.
You burst out laughing, letting her tackle you to the floor. It was easy to forget how stressed out you were about finals when you had Jane.
*
*
*
You take deep breaths as you scramble to find your sneakers. It got cold in lecture halls.
Noah makes coffee, “you're going to do fine.”
“I'm going to fail and flunk out of university and my parents are going to hate me forever and i'll never get a job and take Jane to disney world,” you groan, slumping at the counter with a hand on your forehead. You should've studied all night. Why had you bothered going to sleep?
Noah pours you a tumbler full of coffee, with the hazelnut creamer that basically turned the coffee into a hot chocolate, “you've been studying all week. You might not be Lucas levels of 110% on a rest but you're going to do great. I know it,” he says with a genuine smile.
You blush. “I hope all the studying has worked. I've never tried this hard in school.”
“Yeah,” Noah nods with a soft smile. “High school sucked.”
“It did.” You take a sip of your coffee, hoping to steady your nerves.
He looks good in the morning light, before it's too hot to exist. Winter in florida meant temperatures in the low 70s, laughably temperate. Noah's wearing the same boxers he'd gone to sleep in, with a soft worn in grey t-shirt, and a serious case of bed head as his hair curls around his ears in the most adorable mop top.
If you didn't have finals to head to, this would be the perfect morning.
“You're going to do amazing sweetie,” Noah chuckles in the dickish way of his.
You snort, shaking your head. “Fuck yeah I will.”
“That's the spirit.”
You shove your feet into your beat up vans, grab your backpack. “See you later,” you smile at Noah.
“Yeah, good luck,” he says, putting his mug of coffee down on the counter and leaning down. One second he's smiling down at you, and in the next one he's pressing his lips against yours.
Holy fuck.
Your eyes widen.
Was this really happening, or were you just that tired.
“Shit,” Noah stammers, pulling away quickly. “I-”
You raise a brow, “What-”
“It was an accident. Sorry.” Noah steps back, running a hand through his hair, pink up to the tips of his ears.
You feel a bit like a deflated balloon. “What even was that?” Because what it seemed like was like he'd kissed you but-how do you accidentally kiss someone. No-this was way too much for you to dea with at the moment.
“I just-nothing. Just forget it,” Noah says. “I'm going back to sleep.”
“See you later,” you try, feeling all messed up. Had he wanted to kiss you? Was this you messing up for the both of you?
You wish you could call Lily right now, but you had a final to get to.
*
*
*
It's Christmas day, technically.
Jane's been asleep for hours and Noah's taking a bite out of the cookies laid out for Santa as you watch it's a wonderful life trying to puzzle out how this was a Christmas classic. It was boring.
Things had been so awkward with Noah as of late, as you both danced around the kiss, that you had let Jane talk you into a sleepover in her room almost every night. There was no way you could lay there next to Noah and not think yourself to death. Absolutely no way.
You had wrapped up her gifts in baby yoda christmas themed wrapping paper: an assortment of more clothes because Jane really didn't have much considering she had basically popped into life a year ago, random books you remembered liking in elementary and middle school, and toys that you had definitely splurged on including a two hundred dollar set of legos that you looked forward to building with her. It had been hard to keep it secret from her when you all spent the majority of your time together. Stacey had sent a big care package for all of you. Lily had sent gifts through the post office. Lucas’ contribution was a few amazon packages.
All your friends had sent something.
It was touching, considering the distance. You couldn't wait to see them again-Ava wanted to visit in the summer.
You flip the channel, deciding Full House reruns were better.
“Not Full House,” Noah groans, turning the kitchen light off.
“Let me guess. You're a Die Hard fan?”
“Best christmas movie,” he grins.
You shake your head. He could be such a guy. And just like that, the tension between you two dissipates. “No way. The Grinch is the best. The 2001 one anyway.”
You click the side table lamp off.
Noah sits down next to you as you flick through the channels, trying to find something to watch. “Bob's burgers?”
“Sounds good.”
It's dark. The volume’s on low. You're all curled up in bed, and Noah's not being weird-it helps that you're trying to be chill about it.
“How did your finals go?”
“Well I didn't flunk out,” you shrug. “I got a C in sociology but a B in everything else.” It was fine. It's not like you were a sociology major.
“I told you you'd do good.”
“Yeah,” you sigh, laying down entirely, ignoring the tv. “I just figured all the studying would...I don't know, mean I'd get straight As?”
“It's college-isn't it supposed to be like super hard or whatever,” Noah says with a shrug.
“I guess.” You just wished you were that kind of student. Even seeing how hard the effort was on Lucas’ mental health, maybe your parents might visit if you did get straight As. It was dumb. “I just figured my parents might pay attention if I did get all As.”
“Fuck your parents,” he says easily.
You snort. “Shut up. They pay like half the rent.”
“The least they could do.”
“Yeah,” you sigh. “Did you ever want to go to college? You know like when we had to write colleges letters in fifth grade, or was it sixth?”
“Naw. School was never my thing,” Noah says in the quiet of the night.
You smile softly, tilting your head so you're looking at him, the moonlight illuminating the angles of his jaw as it poured in through the windows. “Then it was always culinary school for you?”
He shrugs. “Yeah-I mean,” he closes his eyes, thinking silently. “I'm a little too dumb for school. I could never get the whole trig thing or what Shakespeare was saying let alone the subtext.”
You sit up. “Shut up,” you state, slapping his bicep lightly. “Don't say that shit.”
“It's true.”
You shift, closer to his side of the bed, closer to him still lying there staring up at the ceiling, not meeting your searching gaze. “You're not dumb. Noah-you are not dumb. You're so fucking smart-who remembered to buy toilet paper and figured out how to rent an apartment?”
“You can google that shit,” he says, covering his face with his hand, embarrassed.
“And cooking takes skill. Maybe it's not mensa harvard type smarts, but it's not nothing!” You just wanted him to see himself the way you did. You're sitting up on your knees now, as his expressive wide eyes meet yours, a dark romantic brown you could drown in, staring down at him. “Say it! Say you're smart and clever and amazing!”
“I'm not saying that,” he laughs off.
“Say, I'm fucking smart and I can do anything,” you repeat, nudging his chest.
Noah smiles and it does all sorts of things to you, makes your pulse race as heat winds its way all hot under your skin, all hot and bothered and feeling giddy like a dumbass and you never meet someone who felt like home the way it is with Noah. “I'm fucking smart,” he says quietly, rolling his eyes, “and I can do anything.”
“We're going to have to work on that,” you laugh, belatedly realizing you're almost on top of him. Well, you are on top of him, you're knees are by his waist, but you're leaning over him and fuck you want him. The way he's laying there under you, looking like the sun shines out of your ass, it's thrilling.
“We will,” Noah says, wiggling his brows in a way that has you laughing into his chest.
Then you're looking up at him, unable to catch your breath, because you can't stop laughing and it's not like you're particularly comedic but-fuck it, you lean up and kiss him. It's what you've been itching to do since the party at-fuck, you don't even remember, but you remember finding him there and realizing he's what you had been missing, the reason you didn't feel like being there until you sat by the pool with him.
He's Noah and you're you and there's not a version of you that doesn't love him to bits; there's not a version of you that doesn't go with him to face the monster and rescue Dan and would give your life for him and Jane. Always. Because he's Noah-
You lean down and kiss him, trying to communicate the depth of this feeling.
It wasn't some crush.
Or some drunken affair at a house party.
You kiss his lips with a dizzying fever that burns hot under your skin as desire builds in the pit of your stomach: a bundle of nerves sparking to life. And he kisses you back, his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb rubbing circles into your skin.
You tremble under his gentle touch, afraid that this too would disappear in your hands. You were so used to losing: to getting nothing.
Noah stares up wide eyed at you when you pull away.
You bite your bottom lip.
“I-,” he stutters.
“I've really been wanting to do that for a long time,” you confess.
“Me too.”
You swallow thickly at his confession. “Then it wasn't...it wasn't an accident,” you ask carefully.
Noah shakes his head once. “No. That-I just, I didn't want to mess up something good just because I wanted something more.” He looks so heartbroken in that second-
“Noah,” you sigh gently. “I was surprised and thinking about school but I've-I would've kissed you then if my head hadn't been so far up my own ass.”
He snorts, the line of his shoulders relaxing under your hands. “After what happened- I was lucky that you even wanted to talk to me at all. I didn't think you'd want anything to do with me and then I thought it was just for Jane,” Noah admits painfully.
“I've always loved you.” You tell him. “And I'm going to keep telling you until it gets through that thick skull of yours.”
Noah chuckles.
“So are we on the same page?”
He rakishly raises a brow with a shit eating grin on his lips, “I don't know, are you gonna kiss me again?”
You vow to wipe that look off his face as you do more than press your lips hungrily against his, your hands against his chest as you shift once more, situating yourself and getting comfortable straddling his waist with your legs. You press hard kisses to his mouth as Noah kisses you back with the same fervor; you nibble on his bottom lip, bringing it between your teeth.
It's an exercise in breathlessness, a mexican stand-off in which both sides are ready and happy to pull the trigger because of the rush of blood to your head as you taste him on your lips. It's intoxicating the way in which he kisses your mouth and you forget the need to breathe.
But you, smiling against the skin of his jaw as you catch your breath. His chest rises and falls under your hands as he laughs giddily, feeling as crazy as you do.
It's not that epic romeo and juliet love that burns and destroys, but the fullness in your heart as you lay there with him.
You plant kisses down his jaw, savoring the hitches in his breath as you nip on the skin at the crook of his neck. “Is this okay,” you ask wickedly.
“Fuck,” Noah utters, voice breaking as he sucks in air. “Yeah-”
He cups your cheek with his hand and leads you up, brings you back where he can kiss you again. Noah kisses you-he lets himself kiss you. His tongue experimentally whetting against your all too willing lips before your mouth opens up to him and it's clear in the clumsy way he's eager to explore your mouth--the boy has no idea what he's doing.
It's fine.
You smile against his mouth, taking charge and running your tongue against his. Reaching for his free hand and guiding it, inviting him to explore the shape of your body in an oversized t-shirt and tiny booty shorts that you wouldn't even take the trash out in.
Noah does, clasping your hips with his hand as you binch up the fabric of his shirt in your hands as you lose yourself in kissing him, in drinking him in like a comfort series you could endlessly rewatch.
You're both breathless, as you lay your head down on his chest, content.
“That was,” Noah says all out of sorts, “wow.”
“Guess you're going to be the next great american writer,” you tease.
He rolls his eyes, running his hand up your side.
“Hey,” you continue, relaxing into his touch, “Hemingway was a man of few words.”
“Was he the alcoholic one?”
“I think a lot of writers were,” you admit. “I tried to read his whale book but it was boring as fuck.”
“Moby Dick,” Noah says thoughtfully, “did Hemingway write Moby Dick?”
“Who cares,” you reply, pressing a kiss against the edge of his lips, fine with spending the wee hours of the morning making out with Noah.
“Well now I want to know.”
“Really,” you tease, bringing your hand up, running your fingers through his soft hair.
His eyes close. Noah leans into your touch. “I'll google it later.”
You giggle.
Then he’s kissing you again and you could care less about books and long dead writers. Noah captures your lips with his and you intertwine your fingers in his hair, a hand on his chest, wondering what it would feel like to have his bare skin against yours and caught between the enormity of your want and letting things happen naturally. It was Noah. You didn’t want to rush him.
You were still amazed he’d kissed you back,that he wanted you the same way you wanted him. The love had never been the point of contention between you two. You loved him at nine and you loved him at nineteen.
Noah losses some of his hesitation, his hands sliding down your side until they reach the swell of your hips straddling his waist. Then his hand slips under the fabric of your shirt and you moan into his mouth at the sensation of his fingers splayed against to taunt muscles of your abdomen.
It’s just flaring want consuming you whole.
“Is that,” Noah manages between bated breaths, “okay?”
You kind of want to shake his shoulders and say shut up and keep going, because you might just combust in the next few minutes if he keeps going like this, this clumsy tenderness mixed with the assault of his body discovering yours. “Yeah,” you stammer out, more feeling than young woman. “Great actually.”
Noah chuckles, trailing kisses down your neck as you lean back a little, before pulling away. . .before pulling your shirt over your head.
He sucks in a breath at the sight of your naked torso.
You can’t help the headyness in your chest at his reaction, at the way you were affecting him. “Like what you see,” you grin, all brash confidence that threatened to topple over like a house of cards at every turn, at the shift of his body under yours.
For once, Noah doesn’t have some smartass comment, just reaches his hands to your cheeks and pulls you down flush against him.
Fuck.
You kiss him feverishly, your hands finding the hem of his shirt as running yours fingers against the sliver of skin.
Noah moans into your mouth and you swear you can’t even function at the sound. The entire world is boiled down to you and him, him and you, and building pressure in your belly that threatens to explode.
“The shirt-,” you stutter out, half out of your mind.
“Yeah,” he obliges, sitting up and tugging it off.
And then you’re melting against him, the warmth of his skin against yours. Your breasts flush against his bare chest. Your toes curl up as you sigh, hands clutching at his neck, at his cheek, at the ends of his hair.
You kiss his jaw, you suck on the skin of his jaw and none of it is enough. Fuck, you want him so bad. You’re so fucking horny. It’s not like you’d been with a lot of people. But it had been over a year since your last sexual encounter.
And that might explain part of it-
Noah cups one of your breast with the palm of his hand, and fuck-
Your mind blanks as you moan his name. “Noah,” you whimper.
He kisses your collarbone, smiling against your skin.
“Do you want to-,” he asks, sounding more self assured by the word.
“Yes, yes,” you eagerly answer, kissing him hungrily. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Noah laughs breathlessly.
Then he’s whimpering as you run your fingers under the waistband of his boxers.
His hand closes around your wrist before you can get further, “condom?”
“Fuck,” you swear. This was so unsexy of you both. But it wasn’t like you had a reason to buy condoms along with pads and fruit snacks. “I think I have one,” you vaguely remember there being one in your wallet.
“I really hope you do.”
“Jerk.”
With great reluctance, you crawl off him to go look for your purse. You had to stop throwing it wherever and hang it up. It would've made it easier to find right now.
You don’t look back at Noah, even though you can feel his heavy gaze on you. The airs filled with static electricity as you rifle around and find the slim black bag.
It’s another few minutes of fishing through its contents before you find the thin small envelope that you were pretty sure you’d gotten in health or at planned parenthood at some point. Ava had definitely been there.
When you turn around, Noah’s sat up in bed, in your bed, in the bed you two share, have shared for months. It’s too dark to make out the expression on his features from this distance, but it’s under his dark eyes that you make your way back to him.
You push your shorts and underwear down in one go, discarding them by the side of the bed, taking care not to lose the condom (you were going on another target run asap) before you’re once again straddling his waist, feeling Noah already hard under your thigh.
“I’ve,” he starts as you sit up on your knees, feeling incredibly vulnerable. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Oh.” You’re off kilter. Does he not want to? It’s fine. You’re just surprised. It’s Noah. He’s tall and funny even if you want to strangle him half the time --he can cook-- and he’s so fucking hot when he’s not being adorkable. You’re surprised. “We don’t. . .have to.”
He sits up under you. “No. It’s,” Noah blushes, “I want to, it’s just-you should know?”
“Oh. Okay,” you lean in, kissing him with a tenderness he deserves in spades, “if you’re sure.”
Noah grasps your hips in his hands, pulling you in, “I’m sure.”
He kisses you.
You push him down onto the bed by his shoulders. His eyes are full of trust as he looks up at you, full of love like the moon on a clear night. You carefully open the condom up.
Noah shimmies his boxers off.
And because you’re you, you reach down and stroke his cock with your hand.
He shuts his eyes, moaning your name as he throws his head back into the bed, his back arching.
You wait a moment for him to still underneath you, before you roll the condom onto his cock, letting your desire carry your through as you fumble a bit. Again, you didn’t exactly have much experience on Noah. You just had some experience.
You lean down flush against him, kissing his lips, as you guide his cock to the apex of your thighs and part your legs, moaning into his mouth as he enters your soaked entrance. Noah stretches you out, leaving you a trembling mess, faring no better than he currently was under you, as his hips thrust against you and you-fuck!
It’s a tangle of limbs as you wrap your arms around him, lacing your fingers behind his neck, wanting more, and more as your hips more erratically against his.
Noah is all kisses and moans and his fingers bruising the skin of your hips as he presses you closer against him.
You don’t really know or care about anything but the feel of his cock inside you, as he thrusts with fervor, and clutches you near. You just want and want and stars dance across your eyelids as your skin catches fire, the heat in your belly finally boiling over as you fuck him, grinding your hips against his.
You splutter, reaching your climax while topping the boy you’ve been in love with for what might as well be your whole life. It’s just your strained voice, repeating his name, “Noah,” like it’s an answer to the whole meaning of life bullshit.
Good.
Bad.
It always comes back to him.
Noah.
He comes against you a second later, your name a sharp breath on his lips, before he goes as boneless as you feel. You’re on cloud fucking nine.
It’s a feeling no amount of weed can come close to.
Exhausted, you get off of him, slumping into a puddle on the bed. Fucking Florida. You were too hot and sweaty to curl under the blankets now.
“I fucking love you.”
“Oh,” you snipe back, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, “now that I’ve fucked you you tell me.”
“Shut up,” Noah manages. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go toss the condom.”
He sits up slowly, “oh this episode’s my favorite.”
You’d completely forgotten about Bob’s Burgers reruns playing on the TV.
*
*
*
It’s New Year’s Eve and the three of you are eating ice cream on the beach. Only in Florida.
“And why can’t I go in the water?”
“Because you don’t have your bathing suit,” Noah tells Jane for the hundredth time.
“I promise I’ll just stick my feet in.”
“I’ve heard that one before,” you shake your head.
She frowns. “I promise!”
What the heck. It’s not like you were going anywhere else after this. “Okay. But you have to finish your ice cream first.”
“Wow,” Noah says, throwing his arm around your shoulder and leaning his weight against you, making you stumble in the sand. “What a pushover.”
“Me!” You reply, offended. “You let her stay home for no reason.”
The twins exchange glances. “She had chickenpox,” Noah shrugs shamelessly.
“And I’m the Queen of England.”
“Korean skincare does miracles.”
You roll your eyes at him, “shut up.”
Jane giggles easily as she decides this patch of sand is the one, and sits down, licking her rocky road ice cream happily.
“Jane,” you ask gently.
“Yeah?”
“Do you remember why you’re ten and we’re not?” It had been bugging you, ever since the parent teacher conference. There had been no more nightmares since September, but it bothered you, that she might remember anything. That Jane might not want to tell you. You couldn’t help her if she didn’t tell you.
She shrugs. “Not really,” with a child’s ability to shrug things off.
Noah asks the question you’ve been dreading. “Do you remember Redfield?”
Jane looks at you both, frowning. “Who?”
Your shoulders sag with relief. You hide it with a bite of your ice cream cone. Jane had a habit of picking up on things.
“No one important,” Noah brushes off, running a hand through his hair.
“You guys are being weird,” Jane complains. “Is this about you two being gross together? I saw you holding hands.” She narrows her eyes at you accusingly. “Don’t you remember boys have cooties.” She shakes her head. “Grown ups.”
“Jane,” Noah squeaks.
You laugh, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. “Yeah. We thought you should know.” It was better to leave the whole Redfield business behind. She didn’t need that shit weighing her down. “I don’t know. I like your brother a lot for some reason. Ava says it’s trauma induced codependency but she’s Ava so. . .”
Jane frowns again, letting the ice cream drip onto the sand as she thinks. “Does that mean I’m getting a sister?”
It’s your turn to be flabbergasted, as your skin reddens into a ripe tomato. “What!”
“It’s only fair,” she explains. “If you get my brother then I should get a new sister.”
“How about a stuffed animal,” you barter.
“You let me play five Nights at Freddies?”
“No way Jane,” Noah says, shaking his head. “It’ll give you nightmares.”
“What about minecraft,” you try. “Just on Fridays though.”
“Okay. i don’t want my ice cream anymore. I want to go play in the water.”
You nod, kicking your shoes off. “Okay yeah. Let’s go throw it away. I’m sick of mine too.”
You toss the ice cream and race Jane into the waves.
#noah marshall#ilitw noah#noah x mc#it lives in the woods#jane marshall#mine#theyre like 18/19 theyre not lasting long during sex#but also i love mc and noah having shit parents and then turning around and being much better parents#to jane#ABUSE DOES NOT DEFINE YOU#okay but also mc and noah being soulmates and being that couple thats known each other their whole lives#i love
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HASO “Evidence.”
Still working on the trial arc, and sorry I am late in posting. I had to go to work at seven and am trying to write in between helping guests.
CREDIT and a THANK YOU to one of my amazing discord community members Eddi, who has been working for the last few months on the audio visual and transcript logs seen here. I did not write them, Eddi wrote them an was kind enough to let me use them in this story. I loved it and thought it brought a lot of authenticity to the story by bringing in an outside voice.
WARNING: GRAPHIC blood, gore, and bodily mutilation. The Steel eye project development is VERY horrible, so don’t read if that is something that bothers you.
It was a beautiful day.
The sky was a bright eggshell blue stratified with only the occasional cirrus cloud highlighting the sky with a touch of distant white. The sun was bright though the temperature was moderate only in the mid eighties.
Swimmers could be seen as distant pinpoints of light and froth on the surface of lake Geneva. Voices echoed up from the city coerced mostly by the purring of hover-car engines.
Towering white buildings rose high into the sky adding height instead of width to a city that had not grown outside its own borders for the past thousand years other than to go up.
Itw as a more environmentally efficient way to build, and left the countryside untouched by the scars of infrastructure and humanity.
Adam stared out the window for a long moment wishing for the peaceful embrace of the skies and the roaring of a jet engine. A soft whimper at his leg, and he looked down to see Waffles sitting at his heel, her head tilted back to look up at him. WHen he didn’t immediately respond to her she whined again and scooted closer, her paws making soft clicking sounds on the wood flooring below.
Finally he reached down and scratched her behind the ears.
She could sense his agitation, and it was clear that she didn’t much like it.
He couldn’t blame her.
He didn’t like it either. He sighed and turned his head away from the do and he window, back to the mirror in front of which he now stood. He didn’t see himself.
The man in the mirror was tall, straight backed with sharply trimmed and styled hair, jaw squared and raised. Both eyes were green though one expanded and contracted like the appriture of a camera. The expression on the man’s face was stern and unyielding.
He looked…. Like his father.
He had never seen much of a resemblance between them, but now he could certainly see it.
It didn’t help that the stars on his uniform seemed to add an extra ten years to his age.
With a soft sigh, he pulled his captain’s cap down snuggly onto his head and whistled low for his dog.
She fell into a perfect heel at his side, and he clipped the leash onto her colla.
Her black service vest was strapped on tight with a pair of doggie saddlebags on either side carrying water bottles. Waffles always liked having a job to do, and a little extra work would help to keep her relaxed during the trial rather than antsy.
She was going to have to stay very still for a very long time for the next few days.
“Ready girl.”
Her tail thumped against the floor at his voice.
“At least that makes one of us.”
He transferred her elash to his left end, though he didn’t technically need it, and led her out of the bedroom and into the large living room. It was a lot of hotel room for just one man. He would have been fine enough with a double queen personally, but he supposed if the UNSC was paying there was no reason to argue otherwise.
It felt strange, going to a hotel on the UNSC’s Dime to testify against the UNSC in one of the biggest trials of the century.
His stomach churned.
Waffles nosed his hand.
Dr Krill floated down from his examination of the chandelier, “I admire human artistry, but pragmatism is still my preferred way of living.” he motioned around the room, “A bit opulent.”
Adam nodded his agreement, “You can say that again. I haven’t slept on a bed that big in my life.” In all honesty, he was trying to keep his mind off of what was to come. He didn’t really care about the bed and certainly didn’t know if he had ever slept in a bed that large.
He sort of doubted it, he was in the UNSC after all.
A knock came on the door and he turned reaching for the handle and pulling it open. The driver from yesterday was waiting for him, his suit pristine. He bowed slightly, “The car is waiting for you, sir.”
He nodded, and motioned the other man to lead the way.
The man nodded and thanked him, stepping down the hall and leading them down into the lobby. They got a lot of looks as they made their way down, most likely because of krill, though his uniform might have caught some attention.
He was led out towards the car and slid into the back seat, suddenly surprised to find that he wasn’t alone.
“Admiral Kelly!”
“Good morning, Adam.”
“What are you doing here.”
“I am here to witness the trial. UNSC representatives thought it would be best if some of the newer brass came to oversee proceedings.”
He quickly looked out the window, suddenly remembering which side of the conflict this was on.
A hand rested on his arm, “I’m not here to make you feel bad about your decision, Admiral. You’re doing what needs to be done.”
He sighed and nodded, “I… thank you ma’am.”
“You sure this is something you are ready for.”
He paused and then shook his head, “No… I’m not ready, and I never will be.” She went to open her mouth but he stopped her, “But I’m the only one we have, so I will do what it takes.”
The car went silent as it slowly accelerated into the early morning traffic.
It was going to be a very long day.
Admiral Kelly turned to look at Krill speaking with him quietly while Adam looked out the window.
He wasn’t in the mood for talking right now though he knew how odd that was.
His stomach continued to churn as they drove through the streets heading towards the outskirts of the city where the Geneva court had been built just over 200 years ago.
The last buildings on the outskirts of town went by and their first view of the court appeared in the car window. It was made in the classic greco-roman style with large white pillars and sloped rooftop and carvings on the top that depicted all the deities of justice ever conceived by historial religion, all cast and depicted in marble.
The thoroughfare up to the building was long and wide with a decorative reflecting pool at the center and a set of daunting steps leading up to the ornate front doors.
The grounds were meticulously kept with hedges shrub and flowering bushes, with what must have been miles and miles of water features and fountains off to the side.
It was a beautiful location, and it seemed that visitors found it a nice spot to rest while they enjoyed touring the sites.
He didn’t see much in the beauty today.
This was the UN supreme court, and the history of Geneva made this place hallowed in ways that made the court case for today all the more poignant.
The car pulled to a stop before the doors and a few gloved attendants stepped forward sharply dressed and opened the doors with almost militaristic precision as Admiral Vir and Admiral Kelly stepped out.
Waffles followed at his heels
He knew as soon as he stepped onto the marble steps that he wanted to leave, an the only thing that kept him there was the memory of those faces…. All the people counting on him back at the house, all the people who had never been given a chance to recover like he had.
He took a deep breath and ford himself up the steps and towards the front doos where a group of people were already congregating.
There were a few reporters there, without cameras, waiting to attend in the audience and record the proceedings for their news stories and daytime television. A few of them snapped discrete photos of him as he passed and was led through the wide double doors into the expansive inner hallway with a beautifully muraled ceiling and a line of decorative plants down the side.
Voices echoed inside the building, rising up around him to bounce off the marble.
The voices themselves were indistinct and difficult to understand as he made his way further into the room.
Men in suits lined the walls.
He eyed them critically wondering if any of them happened to be the defence.
A hand was placed on his shoulder, and he quickly turned to eye another attendant, who had evidently been trying to get his attention, “Right this way sir.”
He nodded and was led through the halls and into a nearby antichamber.
A wand was passed over his body.
“Please hold out your arm , sir.”
He did as ordered and watched as his forearm implant was temporarily deactivated.
“The room is completely radio proof, sir. No signals go in or out. If you must make a call, I urge you to take it during the court recess.”
“Understood.”
“Please step inside and sit on the second row on the right side behind the prosecution.
He did as ordered, and stepped into another wide curving room.
It was much bigger than he would have thought, two stories high with amphitheater seats, and a massive curving desk at the front where nine Geneva court judges would be seated on their entrance.
There was no jury.
The Geneva court judges would be the jury for trial at this time.
Law practices had changed a lot since world war III but there was still some semblance of the old ways that still lingered on.
He took his seat, waffles grumbling softly as he slid onto the ground beside him.
Two people in suits followed him inside one in a dark blue suit and brown shoes, the other in pinstriped balck.
The one in blue was a woman, dressed sharply, her hair pulled back into a bun so tight you could have strummed out a tune on the hairs. She paused next to Adam and held out a hand, “Admiral Vir, we spoke over the phone.”
“Ms. Trevor.”
She nodded and motioned to the man, “And my partner Mr. Jackson. I trust you understand your purpose here today?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Jackson lifted his head, “Our case here is solid, admiral. This case isn’t about who is going to be punished for what happened, but about how long they will be punished, not to mention it is likely to set up some new legislation for the ethical creation and use of military hardware. Once we are done, something like this is unlikely to ever happen again.”
He wasn’t entirely sure he believed that, but he nodded and let them take their seats in the desk before him.
Waffles whimpered and prodded at his hands with her nose.
He stroked a hand over her big pointed ears.
The courtroom filled up within the next hour, and, Looking across the room, he saw a line of men and women sitting on the second row of the defence. Something about them put him on edge.
He had a feeling they were the scientists.
They were the ones who had developed the steel eye armor.
“All rise! For the honorable Geneva court judges!”
The entire room took to their feet as the nine judges filed out of a back chamber and stepped onto the floor. All of them wore traditional black robes with white collars as had been tradition for nearly thousand of years. They took their seats with a mass shuffling.
“Please be seated.”
The room shuffled back into place.
The head judge,at the center of the table leaned forward.
“On this day June 24, 4024 we open the Geneva Court case of The People VS UNSC Biomechanics Division. the court will begin by hearing opening statements from the council.”
Council for the prosecution stood, shuffling her papers once before stepping up to the lectern.
“Honorable judges and members of the court, today we are here to present evidence against a faction of the UNSC scientific division for gross ethical violations, torture, and pruposeful endangerment of human life. Evidence suggests over 29 killed, over 21 critically injured, maimed, or permanently crippled, and over 61 with lasting mental trauma. This is not counting over 50 Steel eye soldiers coerced without prior knowledge, into participation in the program, 30 of which are now deceased 15 of which have lasting mental trauma, and five that, while functional, still feel the effects today. Today we will be presenting, written documents, video recordings, and audio files from prior testing as well as first hand witnesses of both the testing and the war as well as expert witness from the scientist who read and compiled the files before trial. What was done to these men and women constitute as war crimes and their victims deserve compensation and closure for what was done to them.”
She stepped back from the podium and nodded.
The defence stood and made their way to the podium in turn, “Your honors, and members of the court, while it is true that some unfortunate incidents happened during testing and development of the steel eye project, there is ample evidence to prove that none of these men or women were coerced against their will into participation. All subjects were volunteer and duly informed before proceedings began. Furthermore, scientific ethics had not advanced far enough at the time to cover weather or not what they were doing was an ethical violation. The Defence is not asking for complete vindication for the accused, but the sum of what happens is surely less than war crimes.”
They took their seat.
Adam wasn’t a lawyer, but he knew which opening statement he liked more. Now maybe he was biased, but certainly he felt that one presented greater amounts of evidence than the other. Of course it was up to the prosecution to show evidence that would convince the judges, beyond a reasonable doubt, that these men and women were guilty.
He listened to some more speaking, half falling asleep and assuming maybe this would be as bad as he thought it would when one of the prosecution stepped back up to the podium.
“The prosecution presents time stamped dated and logged evidence to the court for consideration. The first testing log we wish to present is from the eighteenth of October 4016 and overseen by Dr. Tato Nkosi written as log number 23.”
Experimental Log #023:
So far we have not experimented with a human subject, All the sample tests and simulations indicate that there should be no interference with normal function nor create any feedback loops that could induce seizures. This is the first human testing that we will be doing. We have noticed that the animal testing resulted in significant irritation and irrational behavour from the subjects, We however suspect this was because they were unawares of the reason for the implantations.
The subject is unconscious for the process of implantation to prevent movement.
-recording break-
The subject reacted violently to the implant, removing it in a highly violent manner while screaming and trying to injure any nearby scientists. We expected some level of resistance, but this indicates far more sensitivity than expected. Further testing will be required.
“The council for the prosecution wishes to present the audio/visual log.” A light flickers on as a video clip begins reeling.
Audiovisual Log Transcript:
The subject wakes suddenly, seeming to be woken by extreme pain. Screaming almost instantly and scrabbling at implant on their hand and wrist. Subject seems to be attempting to remove the implant. One of the scientists attempts to calm the subject only to be beaten by the subject who continues screaming. The scientist retreats from the subject just as the subject finally removes the test implant by ripping it from the subjects skin, tearing with it the subjects local nervous system along with large sections of the subjects musculature and ligaments. Seeming relieved at the lack of contact with the implant, the subject sinks to its knees. The subject is losing significant amount of blood, though we suspect the subject is unaware of this as large sections of the nervous system is still attached to the implant. The subject appears to be in shock as it observes its ruined lower arm and hand. The subject has resumed screaming and is now trying to get the scientists attention to fix its ruined lower arm and hand. The subject is sedated and arm treated. The recording ends here.
Adam throws a hand up over his face feeling bile rise into his mouth at the image seared into his brain. Muscle and ligament dangling uselessly against a steel eye prototype. He felt a bit lightheaded but takes a deep breath in and out to calm his breathing. All around the room there are gasps of shock and disgust. A few people stand to leave the room unable to witness any more.”
The council steps forward, “This was the first log in a recorded series of proceeding logs with similar effects. We know in experimentation that accidents happen all the time, and we might have considered forgiveness if the experimentation had stopped here. Clearly implementation on human test subjects was not ready, as evidenced by the animal’s discomfort. Perhaps if they had stopped here, some measure of understanding might have been allowed. But they continued past this point with full knowledge that this sort of catastrophic event could happen. This test subject will never regain full use of his hand. Instead of stopping the experiment like hey should, the scientists determined that the use of painkillers was in order to make the subject operational. For this the prosecution calls expert witness Dr. Alexander Gladstone to the witness stand.”
On the bench to his side, a man stands slicking back his salt and pepper hair as he moves to sit in the witness stand and is sworn in.
“Dr. Gladstone, tell us a little of your credentials.”
“Of course, I received my PHD in Biomechanical interface and Engineering as well as an additional PHD in Mechanised robotics. I have worked as the head scientist for the UNSC testing division for nearly five years now after my predecessor quit. I helped to re-engineer this project under Iron eye as a step forward from the Steel eye project in a more controlled and ethical environment. I am also the scientists who reviewed these logs and compiled them for analysis today.”
“Thank you Dr. Now, may I ask why these scientists would have chosen to implement a drug dosage?”
“To understand why they had to do this, you must also understand the steel eye project itself. Steel eye was designed to enhance the strength, speed and durability of the wearer. We already have exo suits designed for use in factory and industrial settings, however the main issue we run into in a combat setting is that the machine responds too slow. The nodes detect electrical impulses from the muscles and then have to fire following that meaning the subject has already begun moving almost seconds in advance of the machine. Steel eye was created to integrate the machine directly into the body to intercept nerve impulses before the muscles even fire, thus making the wearer faster, and the augment making them stronger. To do this you have to make a direct interface with the nervous system. They first implemented small microfivers which would wrap themselves around the nerves in question to detect electrical signals. These were designed to cluster primarily along the spine but have additional nodes in the major muscle groups. However, direct stimulation of a nerve or nerve cluster sends signals to the brai nthat are interpreted as…. Unbelievable agony, which is likely the agitation that they were seeing in the animal test subjects. However, with a high enough drug dosage, you can mitigate these effects, or distract the brain enough to keep the wearer functional for some time.”
He sat back in his seat.
“And in iron eye, how did you get around this problem?”
“Subdermal implants that do not require direct contact with the nerve endings themselves.”
“And does Iron eye cause any significant damage to the wearer?”
“No sir, the only danger is an infection of the implants, but that is with almost any implanted medical devise.”
“The subjects have no pain.”
“A general soreness that goes away within two to three days.”
“So in my understanding it is clear that there were alternatives to their original course of action. They could have pulled back and tried to implement a way to mitigate the pain rather than mask it with drug dosages?”
“Certainly.”
“But that isn’t what they did.”
“No.”
“The prosecution presents Transcript 27 to the court for viewing.”
Experimental log #27:
We have begun testing various drugs to suppress the pain, this test is with acetaminophen, commonly referred to as Codeine.
As per usual the subject was implanted while unconscious and atop this it was given a high dose of codeine prior to it awaking.
-recording break-
It appears that while the subject was capable of withstanding the pain from the implant for a longer period of time than our previous subjects However the subject clearly seemed to suffer increasing mental instability as the sensations returned, culminating in the subject violently trying to destroy the implant. Learning from prior experiments and in an attempt to reduce harm to the scientists, the subject was left alone while it was in this state and no attempt was made to aid the subject.
Adam turned his head away unable to stomach what was coming next. His hands were sweating terribly. He felt cold and weak. He had seen horrible things in war and in his time, but watching this… .watching steel eye. It was just too much.
His mouth had gone dry, and his skin was hot as if he had a fever.
The dog nosed his hand but he barely acknowledged her.
Audio-visual log transcript:
The transcript begins once the Codeine begins to wear off.
The subject begins by itching at the area around the implant, the reaction is far less violent than the prior subjects. After several minutes of ever more irritated scratching and aggressive tugging at the implant and plaintive noises the subject began to violently bash the implant against the wall. Growing ever more violent with the abuse of the implant. This continues till the test implant is mangled and ruined with the subject pulling the mangled chunks of metal off their skin, this however seems not to alleviate the subjects pain and irritation. This is likely due to the destruction of the implant not removing the interfacing needles The subject continued to scratch and pull at its skin, the plaintive noises slowly becoming screams of pain. This action continued without interruption from the scientists till the subject had torn most of the skin of its arm and taken chunks out of its musculature, the subject finally passed out from pain or blood loss after several minutes of self mutilation.
The room spun around him, and he took a few long, deep breaths hoping that it would stop.
He wast sure he could survive another few hours of this.
He wasn’t sure at all
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