#i did take the last six ( seven by now ) days to treat myself to as much as i can digest‚ and my condition thankfully got a lot better.

[ughscara]

aiya .. another week of abrupt disappearance — my sincerest apologies everyone ^-^

#( ❀ ) ── standby. #i don't wish to dwell too much on it but it was a body acting up kind of thing again. #i did take the last six ( seven by now ) days to treat myself to as much as i can digest‚ and my condition thankfully got a lot better. #i am all okay for now and for a decent while to come. i have a few things planned all of which i wanted to do last week #but ended up not being able to because i prioritized myself. i won't lie when i say that a week off ( albeit unplanned ) was rather nice <3 #i am ready to finish the one-shot by tomorrow morning and finally publish it alongside a very late birthday gift for a moot. #i'm yapping again but after those two are finally given to who deserve to receive it .. #.. i'll return to publish chapters for my kabu series 🤍 and strictly stick to it until it's done.

[f1goat]

The sister + Lando Norris - part eight

In which your the little sister of Max Verstappen and you meet Lando Norris, who quickly turns in to one of your best friends. But there's a thin line between friends & lovers.

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven

You haven’t heard anything from Lando since your “fight”. It’s slowly driving you insane. You have asked Max multiple times if he delivered your letter to Lando, which he says he did every time you ask. Of course you believe your brother, but sometimes it’s a nicer thought that Lando didn’t see your letter. Mainly because you can’t understand Lando. If he did read the letter, why didn’t he reach out? 

“He’s an idiot,” Kelly tells you once again. You didn’t even say anything to her. She just knows what you’re thinking about. Not that it’s that hard to guess the last days. “So now it’s time for my plan,” she continues. You feel stressed, normally her plans only cause more drama. “You are going to show him what he’s missing,” she explains. 

“How?” You ask Kelly. 

“I told you about George right?” Kelly asks you, “I might have made a little deal with him…” 

“You did what?” 

“Just let me explain,” Kelly says with a smile, “it’s going to be good.”

You nod, waiting for her to explain her idea. It can’t be good that George’s is involved. You don’t want to fuck things up further with Lando, but on the other hand what’s there to lose? He isn’t talking to you anymore, he has blocked you on the most of his socials - or better said, on any social you checked. If he sees you in public he’s always walking away from you. He’s even acting cold towards your brother. 

You still understand that he’s mad. You didn’t treat him right. But, is it that wrong to hope that he’d understand? 

“You and George are going on a date,” Kelly says, “and I will make sure Lando knows of it.”

“I don’t think he cares about that,” you tell Kelly.

“Just believe me, he cares very much about that.”

**

Days pass quickly. Every day you try to talk to Lando. Hoping that there will be a day he’s not leaving a room when you walk in it. Today is no exception. You just want to know if Lando read your letter. If he did and he’s still mad, it’s a sign for you to move on. But if he didn’t, then you still need to explain to Lando. He deserves an explanation and you deserve a chance to make things alright with him. 

You notice Lando walking away, this time you decide to follow him. You can’t wait forever. With a hurried tempo you start following Lando. You want to call him out, hoping that he will wait. But you don’t dare it yet. Not wanting any attention from media. You see how Lando is getting in the elevator. You drop all your shame and run towards the elevator, hoping you can still catch it. 

It worked. You were quick enough. But now you and Lando are standing awkwardly in the same elevator. Fuck. He doesn’t even look at you. You can’t stop looking at him. Lando looks bad. His skin is reddish around multiple areas in his face, his eyes are a bit more closed than normal and he seems tired. Or sad? You know for sure that you look the same, or even worse. 

“Please talk to me,” you beg Lando.

“Why would I? It’s not like you took the time to talk to me,” Lando quickly shots back. 

You sigh. This is hopeless. It even seems like he hates you. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t explain myself properly,” you tell Lando once again, “but please believe me that I had my reasons.”

Lando ignores you. Giving you no other option then to talk further. You don’t have a lot of time before he’s going to walk away from you once again. 

“Did you read my letter?” You ask Lando. 

He shakes his head, you sigh, “Why would I take the time to read something that isn’t going to change anything?” He asks you bitterly. 

“Please Lando,” you beg, “read the letter.”

You touch Lando his arm, trying to make your desperate words even more clear. 

“Don’t touch me,” Lando says softly. You remove your hand from his arm, shaking it in your hair. This is hopeless. Things are never getting right again between the two of you. All because of you. You bit on your lip. When is this elevator ride over? 

“You really do hate me, don’t you?” You ask Lando with a sad tone. You feel tears coming up. This elevator ride needs to be over soon, you don’t want to cry in front of Lando. This time it Lando who touches you, he softly pushes you against the walls of the elevator. Towering over you, finally making eye contact with you. 

“Don’t ever say that again,” he groans. 

“But you do hate me. You don’t want me to explain things, you walk out of every room I enter and you have blocked me on everything,” you sigh. You can’t help a tear from falling down your cheek. 

Lando puts his hand on your cheek, wiping away the tears that are running down on it. He sighs softly. 

“You don’t understand Y/N,” he says softly. 

“Then explain me.”

“I wish I could hate you,” he tells you, “but it’s fucking impossible to hate someone like you.”

“Someone like me? What do you mean?”

The elevator stops, Lando quickly gets out. Leaving you standing all confused in the elevator by your own. He leaves without any form of explanation. You can only sigh. Why is he so fucking confusing? You pull out your phone, searching for your text messages with Kelly. 

Let’s do it. Arrange the things with George asap. And tell me exactly what to do.

**

Lando almost runs until he’s inside off his hotel room again. He feels so miserable. Why did he tell you so much? Last days have been terrible for him. He can’t help himself. All of his days pass slowly, he contacts no one and does nothing expect for the things he needs to do for McLaren. It’s making him crazy. Of course he wants to make things all right with you, but he doesn’t dare. He knows for sure that you don’t return his feelings for you, so why throw himself in to a friendship that will only hurt him in the end? 

Your letter is still laying on his night stand. He didn’t read it. His first idea was to throw it away, but he didn’t manage it. Maybe he should read it? It seemed important for you. 

He sighs softly before getting the letter from his night stand. Opening the envelope. He scans the letter, quickly reading it now he has finally opened it. He reads your hand written words. After reading it he can only hate himself. How the fuck did he miss this? Why didn’t he think about this? Fuck. He really fucked everything up. This is fucking terrible. 

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris #lando norris fanfiction #ln4 #lando norris x y/n

[dotster001]

Soft Part Eight of however many it takes for my coworker to Love Lucifer

Summary: You return from your trip with your boyfriends, and are greeted by Soft Luci.

Chapters: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Nine ten

The van pulled up to the House of Lamentation. Everyone excitedly left the van, and walked into the house. They were immediately greeted by a mouthwatering scent.

"Oh my gosh, yes!" Beel took off running before you could ask any questions.

"No way! You're in for a treat, doll," Mammon said, directing you to the dining hall, causing many disapproving groans. 

When you entered the dining room, Lucifer and Beel were already at their seats, the latter of which was staring impatiently at the mountains of shimmering food. 

"It's just like the Celestial realm!" Asmo exclaimed happily. "Someone hold Beel so I can take a picture."

"How were you able to pull this off?" Satan pulled out your chair, and both of you took your seats. 

"I got the ingredients from Simeon, but I made all of it myself. I thought it would be a nice treat after your trip," Lucifer had a soft smile on his face, happily looking at all his brothers. "Don't be shy, enjoy!"

…As much as you hated to admit it…Lucifer had just made the best damn meal you'd ever eaten…

….

Now that all the brothers were busy trying to be the best boyfriend, Soft Luci was around far more often. The meal was only the beginning.

"No no, a more subtle wrist flick," he said, bringing his arms around you, and gently moving your hand. "Like this. Give that a try now."

He'd come into your room an hour ago with a mug of hot cocoa. Mammon had been helping you work on a spell you were struggling with, but he'd fallen asleep on your bed. So you'd been alone, and frustrated, and Lucifer had offered to help.

You repeated the motion, all too aware of his body heat close behind you. 

Instantly, all the papers on your desk organized themselves into a neat pile.

"I did it!" You gasped, turning to look at Lucifer, who was smiling happily.

"Yes, I'm so proud of you," he practically sang. His crimson eyes looked truly excited that you had managed to pull off the spell. The longer you looked into them, the more lost you were. Then you became all too aware of how intoxicating the colonel he was wearing was. You were getting lost. And you were  getting lost quickly.

Luckily (?) He took a step back, ending whatever spell you had cast on yourself. His smile said he knew exactly what he was doing, and normally you'd have called him out on it. But right now, you were very aware of how cold it was now that he'd taken a step back.

"That should be enough for tonight, get some rest," he said, making to leave. He paused at the door, and turned his head back. "Tomorrow, Solomon will be helping with your defense training. He is going to help teach defensive and offensive magic. You have nothing to worry about. I know you are more than capable." 

And then he left. You cuddled in next to Mammon (well as much as possible, he'd taken up three quarters of the bed) and stared at the ceiling until sleep took over.

….

You overslept the next morning. When you woke up, Mammon was gone, and the three quarters of the bed he'd taken up were cold. You noticed a note on the nightstand.

You seemed quite exhausted last night, so I've called off your classes for the day. There are leftover pancakes waiting for you downstairs. If you need anything, I will be in my office all day. Do not hesitate to come to me.

Lucifer

Damn it. He was good. You smiled while reading it, like you were reading something from one of your boyfriends. But he wasn't one! You couldn't even be sure you liked him!

Although….

No, you were just hungry, and thinking about the pancakes. Once you ate, those silly thoughts would go away.

You wandered downstairs, and found the pancakes. They had a whipped cream smiley face on them. You were starting to wonder if Lucifer may have hit the Demonus early. He was always more affectionate when he…..

And then you got an idea.

A terribly, wonderful, awful idea.

You ate your pancakes, pulled out two glasses and a bottle of Demonus, and raced up to Lucifer's office.

It's not like you'd be tricking him…you were just going to offer some drinks, and find out what he was planning, and feeling, and why he was playing with your heart! 

It'd be fine! And a true test of Soft Luci. If he was truly real…he'd not kill you when he sobered up after you shared in a couple glasses of Demonus.

A+ plan!

#obey me brothers #obey me x reader #obey me #lucifer x reader #lucifer #om! lucifer #obey me x poly reader

[rk-ceres]

Neglected PT.2

George Weasley x reader

George makes an effort to fix things between you two

_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

It was now late in the day you havent moved Ron and George busied themselves making reservations setting up the bedroom and planning he glanced up to the clock and sighed out 2pm. “thanks for your help today Ron” George sighed out obviously still having an off day “anything for you George. Wish Y/n a happy birthday for me” he gave George a smile hurt hit him square in the gut he quickly shooed Ron out of the house finishing the rest of the house and made dinner, once the clock hit 5:30 he washed the rest of the dishes and rushed back to the guest room where you havent left all day he softly knocked on the door “Love?” He called out opening the Guest bedroom seeing you still in tears “ive got a surprise for you” he whispered “can we talk baby? Can we try and fix this? I was wrong” he sighed out walking into the room “im so sorry” he whispered “i dont want to talk to you. Im hurt, and I am so angry at you…but mostly hurt and I dont know how we can fix this you really hurt me last night and i need time” you said turning to the wall “I know Y/n, you don’t need to talk to me yet. just listen” he sighed out “i dont have an excuse. Im so sorry i forgot, but it stops today.” He walks around the bed to where you was laying crouching to meet your eyes “Everything it stops ive made arrangements and youve got me. We’ll work on us. Ive given us a week. things just got away from me. I want to make this right, and i want you to know that i took off the rest of the week and part of next, tomorrow at seven in the morning i drop you off at madame cordelia’s spa, youve got an all day session shes going to do your hair and make up im getting your nails and toes done, seaweed wrap and mud bath. Massages and steam rooms. your outfit is in the closet for the evening, we’ve got reservations at six for the new restaurant on fifth, the one youve been talking non stop about after that we’re going to see the new Keanu Reeves movie first showing. Thursday is going to be us going to the arcade, icecream shop in muggle london and a fairy boat ride, Friday is me taking you to the carnival. We’ll ride the ferris wheel and we’ll play all the games i’ll let you beat me in bumpercars too, Saturday we’ll be in Paris, i booked us a hotel there til Tuesday morning. We’ll explore France and it’ll be just me and you, ive got everything planned i packed your suitcase with everything youll need for our week baby. if i didnt muck this up too badly. Please come back to our room. Im really, really sorry Y/n/n. I know that ive been neglecting you and your needs and youve been taking care of me making my lunches waking me up with kisses keeping our house clean bringing me dinners and loving me when i havent been treating you the best.” “You havent” you cried harder “it feels like youve checked out and didnt want to tell me youre breaking up with me. You forgot my birthday. I know youre busy and I love that youre living your dream and that you take care of the both of us but im important too one night was all I wanted and you yelled at me. Seven months of me supporting you every way I know how to support you and I get yelled at” “I know love and im so sorry i didnt mean to forget” he whispered cupping your cheek

k “im not asking this to hurt you im not trying to start a fight but you got defensive and i need to know. I’m are you seeing somebody else?” Your voice broke his eye’s dropped “no. Love. Its just been work. Theres no one else for me. Its just you.” He cupped your face in his hands “trust me. Its just you baby” he cooed softer “today? All i wanted? Was you to notice me. I just wanted you to spend time with me just flirting and harmless fun. i wanted you to touch me. Its been seven months since we’ve had sex since youve touched me. am i not enough anymore? am i not pretty enough? did i let myself go after hogwarts? Am i not what you want or is it just you being busy because i cant do this anymore i cant keep feeling like im being replaced” you cried more “i can live with” you hiccuped “i can live with being a part time lover but its killing me George” you cried “you not being here? Its killing me” tears made its way down his face while letting your words sink in “im sorry, youre not a part time lover. I want you Y/n/n just you. Youre it for me” he wiped your tears away tears in his own “its just work i swear. ‘Ve hired an accountant and another person to run the shop while we have our week. Then i have to go back and train. But i’ll be home with you. Every day at five.” He pointed to the ground “every day at five i’ll be home and in your arms telling you how much i love and need you, I’ll have weekends off.. and Saturday will be our day. I promise you” he looked into your eyes filled with hope as he brushed the tears from your face “am i still the one? Are you still going to marry me one day?” You asked softly insecurity written all over your face George’s eyes softened as you leaned more into George’s touch he smiled at you “yes baby.. youre still my only one. im sorry for yelling at you. Im sorry for not making the time before it was too late, im sorry for being an idiot, im sorry for making you feel like you arent enough… is it okay for me to show you how i feel? Let me make it up to you?” He asked looking into your eyes “are you finally going to make love to me?” You asked tears still streaming down your face again “not in here. But yes. We can have sex tonight. Just not in our guest bedroom love. If we’re having sex. Its going to be in our shared bedroom” He said straightening out his back as you sat up “im sorry i yelled at you. I shouldnt have yelled back” you looked back “we can talk about that after” he said handing you a small package Ron picked up for him on his way here to set up “put this on love” he smiled softly as you sat up “give me ten minutes.. then come to the dining room.” He said still looking at you you nodded to him biting your lip you opened the package and gasped he had bought you the dress that you pointed out at already Boux’s it was a 1300 galleon dress that you dreamed of wearing it was a 1920’s style red dress with a slit that came up to mid thigh you smiled and put it on he had bought the matching make up palette and accessories for you

you slipped on the gloves and finished the red lipstick walking out into the dining room, he had transfigured a wall into a big movie screen smiling when he saw you “you look exquisite love” “not so bad yourself handsome” you ran your hands over his black suit “thank you..” You say softly “this isnt a fraction of what I have planned. I spent all night last night working on it, Happy Birthday my love… youre the best thing thats ever happened to me and im sorry that i dont show it enough. If you left i wouldnt know what to do or how to breathe without you” he smiled “i heard you.. talking to Hermione… I was outside the door. I came back to check on you, and i did talk to your brother. We went out and got coffee at that new Cafe. It didnt make things worse. Ive worked things out with Harry, and he was really kind, and threatening. But its all worked out and better. He actually helped with the reservations and called in a few favors for our Paris vacation. Gabby’s picking us up from the airport and to our hotel.” “He didnt seek you out did he?” You asked softly “no baby. I called him.” George said looking into your eyes “im so sorry baby, id notice… i noticed your face when i yelled at you.” He sighed out “thatll never happen again. Ever. I didnt like it. I didnt like any part of it it made me feel like shit, youre not my annoying clingy girlfriend Y/n/n. Youre my everything darling i love you even if ive done a crappy job at showing you. Please dont leave me… please i can change ive already changed some things i really do want to fix us, im serious about you and i want you too feel that i am too and i do want to spend time with you on your birthday. I made your favorite” he pulled out her chair and played the movie “im not leaving. Im sorry” you looked down “i thought that i was alone and needed to get it out” tears started to come your eyes “No baby this is my fault and my fault alone you dont apologize” he cupped her cheek “thank you… for making dinner” you said softly “its the least i can do, baby. Id like to talk more about what was said during our fight. But i want to be clear that im not mad at you, im not mad that we fought, my anger and outburst wasnt because of you, it was because i had a really tough day, and i took it out on you. It was wrong and i shouldnt have done that. Is that okay if we talk about this? Theres three major things i want to revisit if possible” He asked looking into your eyes as he dished out the food you gave him a slight nod “i.. i dont know where to start to be honest with you. So im just going to dive in with what you accused me of. It was definitely warranted and i dont blame you for thinking it. I didnt realize how little ive been home, and how it could look like ive been entertaining another woman” he cleared his throat “id never, ever, ever. Do that to you baby. Theres no one else other than you Y/n. Youre the only one i’ll ever want and need” “im sorry that i jumped to conclusions i…. I was insecure” you said softly his mouth pulled into a straight line

“no baby. Dont do that. Dont apologize. Your feelings were and are valid. I wasnt home. You didnt know where i was. I havent reassured you or anything like that, you accusing me like that you werent yelling. Your voice wasnt angry when you asked about it and i wasnt hearing you. You communicated right. You calmed yourself down calmly asked me a question and i got defensive and i could see where you’d think i was hiding something baby. Im not hiding anything from you. You told me what was an honest fear. It wasnt you being insecure i hadnt been home. Which brings me to my next point on this topic youre right. Ive not touched you… or said i loved you since the baby got here and it wasnt because i was punishing you. It was because i… i thought that i could handle this myself. Both branches of triple W and keeping up with the paperwork. The products. But as things progressed it…. It got out of hand if it were you i wouldve done worse than just asking a simple question you were communicating how you felt and your fears and i wasn’t listen ing how i should have been. I was fighting when i should have been comforting and open to talking about it” he sighed taking a bite of food “i believe you. I believe that you werent you last night and you arent seeing anyone else.” You said softly “i just want you to make a point to love me the right way i know things have been tough on you and im trying but” “but you’re neglected and im an arse” he joked you both smiled at each other. “next most important thing i want to discuss is i want to address what i said about money. its not just my money. My success. My empire baby its ours. I shouldnt have thrown that in your face that i make more. It was below the belt and im sorry.” He sighed “ive only ever wanted to share my life with you. Since that day my mum helped you and Harry into that platform i knew that you’d be my entire life. And everything that was and is mine would be yours too” he looked up into your eyes “ive only ever saw the money as ours George. All of this is ours.” You smiled at him taking his hand in yours he chuckled “i know you didnt mean it. Because i know you George Weasley.” “howd i get so lucky?” He asked “I also do. I remember, and see it all. Everything that you gave up for our relationship and us but most of all what you gave up for me..” He spoke again after a few moments of silence “everything that you’ve sacrificed for me since the war, the… the wall that almost took you and Fred…” tears sprung to his eyes as he talked he quickly wiped them away “im sorry. That you had to sacrifice it.” He said you looked up from your food “you sacrificed a lot for me too, you rescued me and Harry second year, you fell out of the car breaking my fall when Vernon pulled me out you bruised three ribs and a broken arm for me…. You stayed up all night studying with me you do just as much for me as i do for you dont apologize for that, you dont have to apologize anymore George; i forgive you, and we can work on us. I dont want to leave” you said softly “third most important thing i want to tell you is that im still the George that promised you a wedding and kids if you want them Y/n/n. I want to marry you, i want you to know that i do have something planned so its coming okay? You dont have to worry about where you stand with me. In my heart. Cause of one fight. Im here. Your George is still here. Even if he was being a prat. Ive planned your proposal and its coming okay baby? Its coming.” George finished his meal “anything else you want to talk about before we kiss and make up?” He asked “i…. I want to say that im sorry even if you dont want me too. I was wrong for yelling. I didnt like it. And I think that when we get to that point again we should take a break and come back to talk when we can rationalize better” you looked down “i think thats a great idea, we okay now?” He asked you softly “we’re okay” you breathed out “i want to have sex… is that still on the table tonight or are we waiting til we work this out more?” You asked softly

“baby. We’ve worked it all out. We talked through everything. Its better now isnt it?” He asked with brows furrowed in confusion you nodded your head “yes. We can have sex tonight. Im ready for that if you are” he offered a small smile the movie was done he stood up flicked his wand the dishes clean themselves pulling her waist closer to him he led you into the bedroom he stopped in front of the door letting you open it “go get in the tub” he whispered in your ear his fingers dragging down your zipper you turned the handle and pushed open the door your eyes widened the entire bedroom was covered in red roses teddy bears rose petals the room was lit by enchanted candles hanging from every corner of the room George brought his nose to the crook of your neck “the bath is ready for us” he said pushing the dress off your shoulders dropping it to the ground his fingers digging into your hips spinning you to face him noses close together and for the first time tonight. George kissed you sweetly bringing his hands up to unclip your bra your hands slowly undid his tie and worked on the buttons of his shirt and trousers you took your own knickers off “lets go take our bath” he whispered into your lips “please master i need you” you whispered

_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Next part contains smut

#george weasleyxreader #george weasley #george weasley angst #george weasley x fem #george weasley smut

[gretavanbear]

eclipse ; three

[notes :

2.4k words!

hi molly have fun reading

here is the link for the playlist !!!]

thursday passed by like the speed of light, you focused on your homework and basically stayed in bed all day. you had not talked to the boys today, at all, not because you didn't want to but because you needed this homework done. it was that damn needing-to-always-be-early thing. your essay was due in five days and you were already done. in a way it was a good thing, because it made you very productive.

to treat yourself you decided to take yourself out for a little coffee. it was six pm and the sun was setting, the fall weather really coming in now. you dressed warm, with a big wool sweater and some comfortable leggings. the coffee shop was only about a seven minute walk due to being on campus, closest to your dorm.

as you step in, the smell of coffee is immediately comforting, the barista immediately recognizing you. you come here often, and it was so surprise she knew your name.

"hey, [y/n], right?" she smiles. she places her hands on the register as you walk over to her.

"yeah! hi!" you greet her with a smile. she had short hair and brown eyes, a smaller figure with a ton of energy. she was always super kind to you when you came to do some work.

"i'm alice. i don't think i ever introduced myself." she smiles, happiness pours out of her and it's so comforting. this whole place is amazing.

"so, one chai latte coming up!" she beams as she punches it into the system, the little ticket printing out as you pay for the coffee with your phone- not realizing you had an unopened text until now.

"by the way" alice begins, her voice low. you turn your attention to her as you look into hazel eyes, and she smiles softly. "there's a boy who asked what your order was earlier, i dont know you or him but it looks like he really likes you" she smiles. you gasp softly, your mind immediately drifting to jake shyly asking for your drink at the counter.

"i don't think so..." you say, as she hands you the warm mug.

"from what i saw.. definitely" she confirms and you smile softly. thanking her and sitting at a table in the back. you put on your headphones and click on your favourite playlist, as you doodle in your notebook.

jake: Hey, [y/n], have you started working on the essay?

you: yes! well, i'm done haha

jake: You're done? The whole thing?

you: yeahhh....

jake: I was going to ask if we could work on it together.

jake: But you're done

you: we can still work on it! i'll help you, we can work on it after class tomorrow?

jake: Yes, please.

and before you can actually focus on what you're drawing, you realize it's jake and josh, directing a movie together.

-

you woke up extra early this thursday morning, and wanted to dress super cute since fall was your favourite season. layers and comfy sweaters was your thing. you wore some tights with a skirt on top of them, a black sweater with a white turtleneck underneath. for shoes, you put your docs on with some thick socks. you had jake and josh on your mind since last night; thoughts of what they'd be wearing today, what you were going to talk about. you even did your makeup, wanting to feel extra pretty for some reason. the thought of seeing them both simply making you so giddy.

you walk into the classroom and your eyes immediately search for them, their brown eyes and soft smiles look for you as well and you quickly walk over to them. as you arrive to the row where they're sat, you realize they left an empty seat between them. you offer a soft smile as you walk closer, and your heart beat quickens.

to sit between them you need to basically pass over jake's lap, and the thought makes you incredibly nervous as you wore a pretty short skirt. you finally reach their seats and greet them, then awkwardly trip over your own feet and land on jake's lap. your whole ass is pressed up against his crotch and he gasps in response. you can't help but feel something against you and you push the thought away immediately.

"fuck- sorry- i'm clumsy" your face burns up as his hand reaches your back. you hide your face for a couple of seconds as you realize what just happened.

"are you alright?" he asks you as you stand up, embarrassed. his cheeks are red and his lips are dark. you nod slowly and sit down in your seat, wanting to hide yourself from the world. you ignore him for a couple seconds as you try not to die from embarrassment; digging through your bag as you grab your computer and pull it out, placing it on the little table attached to the seat.

"you look really pretty today" josh smiles, placing his hand on your shoulder. he wore a white long sleeve with lined grey pants and some white vans. he looked very adorable.

"thank you, josh" you smile, looking down and playing with the hem of your skirt, the feeling of your heart beating hard in your chest making you feel so embarrassed still.

you feel jake shift in his seat and clear his throat, biting his lip as he turns on his computer. your eyes drift to the post-it you left a couple days ago; and how he taped it down onto the cold material of the computer so it wouldn’t be able to move.

the feeling of shame fills you as you’ve probably made him uncomfortable, and you want to cry. your eyes begin to fill with tears as you clear your throat and your fingers shake slightly against your keyboard, typing in your password. you feel jake’s eyes on you as he raises his arm to level it with yours, his hand caressing yours for a couple of seconds.

“it’s okay” he says softly, his eyes reassuring you instantly. it's almost as if he could read your thoughts, know how you feel. you nod slowly but drift your eyes away from him, the feeling still being so present.

-

your class was over and you didn't speak much to either one of them, which upset you a little. the excitement you felt this morning ruined by your stupid clumsiness.

josh had another class so it was just you and jake. you said your goodbyes to josh as he left and shifted your attention to jake, who was smiling softly at you. unfortunately, the coffee shop was closed today due to their shipment not coming in and they were completely out of stock.

"we can.. go to my dorm.. if you want" you suggest hesitantly, but your crush on jake was not going away and you felt comfortable with him; but also the guilt from earlier making you really want to help him with his homework.

"are you sure, [y/n]? don't do this because of earlier" he says softly, his eyes giving you a worried look as his hand makes its way to your shoulder. you shake your head 'no'.

"it's okay. i trust you, lets go because it's getting cold" you chuckle and he smiles, following you to your dorm room on the other side of campus. he walks close to you, his arm brushing against yours a couple of times which send butterflies all inside your stomach.

as you reach the door of your dorm room, you unlock the door and let him in first; he walks past you and smiles as he sees the way you decorated and personalized the room. you had a tiny radio next to your bed, black fluffy sheets and black pillows. you had hung up fake plants and fairy lights to the ceiling; giving the dead room some life. you had a dark grey rug on the floor next to a little beanbag where you did your class assigned readings. there was a pile of books on your desk next to your bed, and a notebook with your doodles inside.

“why film?” he asks, turning to you as his eyes staring deeply into yours.

“well, i just find it so interesting. the entire process of creating a movie is fascinating to me.” you respond, a small smile creeps on your lips.

“do you want to be a director or producer?” he questions you, wanting to know everything. he sits on your bed, closest to the wall.

you sit on the other side of your bed, resting your back against the cold wall. “uhm- well, i don’t think so. those jobs make you be the boss of people and i’ve always been sort of a background character so-“

“not to me.” he smiles, opening his computer. the words that come out of his mouth causes your cheeks to burn, and you want to push his computer and kiss him, right now. but the thought that he might not feel the same way holds you back.

"are you okay if i put some music on while we work? it just helps me focus" you say shyly and he nods right away, watching you as you plug in your phone to the little radio and press your favourite playlist, then sitting next to jake as you look over his essay. he already had two paragraphs written which surprised you.

as you lean towards him, your head is inches from his shoulder while you read his work, your fingers scrolling on the trackpad of the computer placed on his lap. the fact that your hand is so close to his.. it makes you very nervous- him sucking in his breath doesn't help either. the smell of his musky cologne doesn't help, because it's so sexy. it was hard to focus on the homework as he was right there, in your room, in your bed. and you wanted him bad. but the fear held you back- the fear that he didn't think of you this way.

you decided to walk jake back to his dorm room, he had advanced himself greatly on his essay which made you really happy. you could tell it made him happy too since we already had a lot more homework from other classes. he shows you which building is his and lets you in before him.

the door opens and reveals josh working at the desk in the corner of the room. you look at how they've decorated- posters on the walls, they had matching burgundy sheets on the bed. the thing that caught your eye first though, was the electric guitar next to the desk.

"hi josh! guitar!!!!" you say excitedly. you turn to jake who is now behind you, he chuckles a little. "yours?" you ask and he nods.

"hi, [y/n]" josh smiles, turning the chair from the desk towards you. he stands up and walks over, giving you a small hug. as his arms wrap around you- the musky vanilla scent rubs off and your heart flutters at how.. comforting he feels. if you could describe josh in one word; it'd be soft. or.. sunshine?

and jake... jake was the moon, the opposite of his brother. he was soft, for sure, but dark. the darkness is what intrigued you- what you wanted to know more about.

"did you get your homework done, jakey?" josh looks up at his brother as he settles on the bed which is placed on the left of the room, jake sits on the right bed. you decide to steal josh's previous spot at their desk. you set down your keys on the desk as you sit down.

"he made a lot of progress" you smile, answering for him. jake nods and looks at his brother for approval. josh stares at his brother proudly, then writes something down on his little notebook which was on the bed. the desk was close enough for you to see what he wrote.

'i've got love in my heart, for an army apart, i am bleeding'

though you don't understand anything from what he meant by that; the action makes you smile. you wonder what inspired josh to write that; and seeing the proud look he gave his brother makes you feel all warm inside.

"i'm really happy to see the progress you made, jake" you smile and he thanks you, taking out his computer and placing it on his bed. "i'm gonna head back, i'm pretty tired" you can't help but yawn, getting up and saying your goodbyes to the pretty boys who swam your thoughts all day long. jake opens his mouth to respond but josh cuts him off.

"let me walk you out, [y/n]" he says kindly and you nod, watching him open the door and leading you down the stairs. as you reach the front glass doors of the dorm, josh grabs your hand softly. he pulls you closer to him, your back against the wall as you look up at him. you feel your heartbeat quicken as his brown orbs stare down into you.

"i like you" he says softly and you can't breathe, this can't be real.

"y-you do?" your whole body feels numb, the air is thin as he's so close, his face inches away from yours as his arms are on each side of your body. he nods slowly, leaning in...

his lips crash into yours softly, the feeling driving you wild, they're so soft, and warm. he kisses you so sweetly- almost as if he's afraid you'll break under his touch. you kiss him back, your hands making their way to the back of his neck and into his soft curly hair. he presses his body against yours, the wall making it so you can't go anywhere but closer to him.

once he pulls away, you breathe out harshly to catch your breath- in complete shock. he backs up from you as the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs startles the both of you. he bites his bottom lip nervously has his hand rubs the back of his neck- mustering up the courage to ask you something.

"[y/n], would you like to get a drink with me tomorrow night?" he asks, his voice soft and shy. you waste no second to nod, offering a small smile. he smiles back, giving you a small hug before you leave.

"[y/n]! you forgot your keys." jake runs down the stairs, handing them off to you quickly, his eyes examining you and josh who's completely flushed. he gives a puzzled expression to his brother before saying goodnight to you, offering a little wave before you walk away.

your thoughts filled with the feeling of josh's lips against yours.

{@emojakekiszka @sarakay-gvf , @positivegvfthings @milkgemini @gretavanfleas @spark-my-nature @whorefourjakekiszka @maddie-van-fleet @rachiekiszkaadmin @lo-pe-ak @lek-gvf @theweightofjake @rad-space-princess @gretavanval }

#jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka x reader #jake gvf smut #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka x you #minors stay away #gvf smut #greta van fic #greta van fleet #gvf imagine #gvf #greta van smut #greta van fleet smut #smut #greta van fleet imagine #gvf ships #gvf series #sam kiskza #peaceful army #greta smut #jacob kiszka #do it jakey #jakey kiszka #jacob thomas kiszka #josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka x reader

[lya-dustin]

Cupid kills with arrows

Chapter 13

Cw: refrences to past child abuse

Gif by @damodredmoiraine

“My dear mother,

Do not be shocked when I return, and you see there is more to me in comparison to the me that left.

If the gods are good, you may become a grandmother in the next six or seven moons.

If the gods are great, you may have a grandson to dote on ---”

“The Queen, your highness.” Her handmaiden, an older woman named Anya, said with a slight curtsy to both women in accordance to rank before leaving to bring refreshments.

“Would you like some tea, your grace?” Aemma asks, not knowing how to even begin speaking to her goodmother.

Does she call her by her name? Does she hope to be called mother?

“Call me Alicent, Aemma.” The queen said as she sat on the opposite settee.

She doesn’t wear true black. Just a shade of green so dark it looks like it.

She dresses finely, more so than mother who had fine dresses, but never really cared about fashion as much as her stepmother.

Even now when mourning clothes call for little adornment and lackluster fabrics, her gowns is so fine it would work perfectly at court.

Aemma wears black mixed with blues, purples, gold, red and silver. She is freed from the burden of wearing full mourning for the next three months unlike her husband, and she takes advantage of it.

Today she wears a simple black and red kirtle over her white chemise and matching black and red sleeves. She wears a girdle around her waist featuring silver beads amongst black and red pearls all coming to join the silver dragon at the center.

And yet looks painfully underdressed in comparison to her goodmother who looks like a fairytale queen in dark silk and golden religious motifs.

“What brings you here, Alicent?” Aemma asks warily.

The queen was only nice if she was being watched.

She never hit Aemma or her brothers, but she had a tongue forked like the serpent she looks like with her fine silk.

As a child it was knowing the honey oozing from her mouth was poison, feeling any touch like a blow no matter how inconsequential it was.

Worse, it was knowing the moment Aemma did anything better than her children, she’d be treated as if she’d done something wicked.

Aemma was glad to be away from her for those seven years.

“I wanted to come and ask how you have been feeling, Aemma.” The queen answered as if she had ever given Aemma a reason to trust her.

“I have been well; the ginger tea has been a great relief these days past.” Aemma has also been hit with a sudden restlessness and looking for any excuse to jump her husband’s bones, but that last part is no one’s business.

Speaking of Aemond, he should be in the tiltyard with his kinsman and Criston.

If she gets out of this talk early maybe Aemma could go watch him take off his shirt in this heat.

But she did say she’d try just as he will.

“I was much the same with Aemond and his brothers. I was so sick at the beginning, but eventually it subsided. Well, not with Aemond.”  She admits, relaxing as Aemond does when he grows comfortable in company. “I have never been to reconcile myself with mutton, but the moment I held him in my arms I knew I’d do it all over again for him if I had to.”

Aemma cannot help but let down her guard at the queen’s honesty.

“I would like us to turn a new leaf.”

“Oh?” Aemma does not mean to appear skeptical at this offer of an olive branch and yet does anyways.

“I have come to realize that I have been less than welcoming to you. You did not deserve to be the object of my anger nor suspicion and I do not want to lose the chance to be a proper grandmother to the children you will have with my son.”

A pretty speech.

Should Aemma believe it?

Gods.

“Would you ever apologize for your behavior towards me and my family if I had never married your son?” Aemma has always had so many questions about everything.

A failing of hers, this never-ending curiosity to know the why of everything,

“I, ---” the queen picks at her nails and looks at her hands, the window and then back at Aemma unable to lie. “I would not.”

“Then I cannot accept your apology until you can truly mean it.” Aemma said. It is not what the queen wanted to hear, but it is the only way they can move forward. “I will give you a chance to prove we can exist in peace and harmony and I will treat you with the respect owed to you due to your station in court and our family for my husband’s sake, but until I know that you are no longer the woman who hated me without reason, I cannot forgive you for it.”

“I suppose I deserve that. You have a good head on your shoulders, Aemma, and a good heart, Court will not be kind to you, and I wish you the best of luck.” It is neither spiteful nor venomous, it’s earnest and refreshing.

It was nice to know she was a rational human being.

They may have a chance after all.

She is very much Rhaenyra’s daughter.

Especially in that specific ensemble.

So much black and red Aemond half expected her to wear the cape with the three headed dragons embroidered on the back.

In a sea of dark greens and blacks she sticks out so much more than one would have assumed at a funerary feast.

The feast would have no dancing and no happy music would be played to prevent them getting the wrong idea.

“Would you consider Otto as a possible name for the babe?” Mother’s goodsister, Frances Costayne, asked, thinking Aemma was still the little girl who’d run to her mother whenever anyone said anything mean to her.

Aemee had grown thick skin and now could return fire with ease and a charming smile.

“As close as the late Hand was to House Targaryen, Otto is not a Targaryen name, I am afraid.” Aemma answered with her usual sunny disposition.

Aemma would rather eat her bonnet than name a child Alicent let alone Otto.

“We hope to ask Princess Rhaenys for her blessing to honor her late father by naming our firstborn son after him.” Aemond interjected knowing Aunt Frances won’t dare to try anything else.

Prince Aemon had been revered as the greatest prince who ever lived, perfect in ways even his sire had not been. Aemon also happened to be the male variation of Aemma and one letter short of Aemond.

Something Aemma had explained when they talked about names for their children during the journey here.

 They had yet to come up with a name for a princess, but something tells him they won’t be needing it.

“It is a fine name, Aemon Targaryen, a name fit for a king.” His mother said with a soft smile. While Aemma had not forgiven his mother for all she did to her as a child and even now as his wife, they had agreed to give each other a chance.

So far, things have been looking well.

This means Aemond must make good on his promise and allow Lucerys Velaryon to keep his eye instead of taking it.

Even if Lucerys were to offer it.

#aemma velaryon #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #cupid kills with arrows fic #asoiaf fanfic #house of the dragon #oc fanfiction #aemond targaryen #asoiaf au #queen charlotte au

[butterflydm]

wot reread: the fires of heaven (chap 50)

spoilers through the fires of heaven; mild spoilers for how the main poly relationship is treated in the future

1. Oh boy, here we go. Salidar arrival for Elayne and Nynaeve and their friends. Min and Elayne interacting for the first time since The Great Hunt. I do not remember how this reunion goes, so let’s find out but, to sum up the ‘previously on’:

Elayne: experienced an actual, if brief, romance with Rand in Tear at the start of TSR. Three days of kissing, one sweet letter, one ill-advised letter, and then a whole lot of questioning and pining.

Min: last saw Rand at the start of TDR but has known since the first time she saw him that she ‘would’ fall in love with him and so would two other girls. They have never interacted romantically. Her viewing did not tell her how Rand would feel about her or the other two women. She knew that one of the girls was Elayne from the first time she met her in Tar Valon.

2. We start with learning that Nynaeve and Elayne have been questioned for four hours by the six Aes Sedai who are tentatively ‘in charge’ of the Salidar group and are now waiting to hear what the AS have to say about their news. Just to remind myself who they are: Morvrin, Sheriam, Myrelle, Carlinya, Anaiya, and Beonin.

3. All of the stuff they brought with them is laid out in front of the Aes Sedai: Birgitte’s silver arrow, the ter’angreal, and all their money/money replacements from Amathera. Nynaeve thinks back that “Min’s warm greetings had been all laughter and hugs”. But then as soon as they started telling their (rehearsed) story to someone, they were whisked away to be interrogated by the Salidar Six.

4. Siuan and Leane are in the room, and Nynaeve is shocked both at their young appearance and that they are alive at all. She is aware they have been stilled and immediately wants to investigate, which lands her into trouble with Sheriam, who pointedly calls her “Accepted”. To her, feeling that Siuan and Leane have been stilled feels like a wound.

5. They did successfully lie about Birgitte, implying that the silver arrow was another of the gifts from Amathera. We learn that the twisted stone ring that Verin gifted to Egwene was a ter’angreal that was unknown to the Tower as a whole, including Siuan.

6. After reading about Nynaeve and Elayne having several successful (if harrowing) adventures, it IS frustrating to deal with them being treated like children! Anyway, we learn that they told the Salidar sisters about Tear (and Rand) and Tanchico (and Moghedien). And about using TAR to spy on Elaida’s study and learn her plans. They also told them about Aiel dreamwalkers (and Aiel Wise Ones being able to channel).

7. Leane: “The important thing is that with these ter’angreal you can talk to Egwene, and through her to Moiraine. Between them, you can not only keep an eye on Rand al’Thor, you should be able to influence him even in Cairhien.” Uh-huh. Good luck with that one. Leane did meet Rand briefly in Fal Dara but he was so young and inexperienced at the time (but, even then, stubborn as a mule). Siuan and Leane’s ruse has worked successfully on Nynaeve -- she believes there’s bad blood there now.

8. “We are agreed you left the Tower by command, however erroneous it was, and you cannot be held to account for it. Now that you are safely back with us, you will resume your studies.” Welcome back to being Accepted! They are told to answer Siuan and Leane’s questions and not to, uh, take advantage of their ‘present condition’ (being stilled). Siuan and Leane have completely fooled the Salidar Six.

9. Poor Nynaeve: “the days of freedom were certainly gone”. I feel for you. Going from being independent to suddenly under someone else’s control is VERY jarring. They’re told to put their ‘adventures’ behind them and slid smoothly back into their places as Accepted.

10. Their guess is that three seals (out of seven) still hold on the Dark One’s prison. This is book five out of fourteen. Yeah, Jordan was definitely still planning on ending the series a lot faster at this point, I think lol.

11. Okay, we have some more of Min talking to them: she tells Nynaeve and Elayne how glad she is to see them. It’s noted that her hair is longer and she has embroidery on the lapels of her coat. She makes a point of telling them she wants to settle down and have a long chat with them (implied: where the Aes Sedai can’t hear). When Elayne agrees about wanting to talk, Min is “not as eager as a moment before”.

12. Min’s comment about Faolain makes no sense in context of how her viewings tend to work? She says, “a nasty woman. you’d think, if there was any justice, she would have an unpleasant future ahead of her” but Min doesn’t see the whole of a person’s future, just glimpses of events or symbolic events. Just because she sees one good thing for Faolain or even a dozen, wouldn’t mean that unpleasant things couldn’t also happen.

13. Thom and Juilin (and all the Shieranans) are all in favor of the whole group of them booking it out of Salidar and straight to Cairhien to meet with Rand. Oh, man, that sounds amazing. I know they won’t do it, but I wish they would. I want Rand and Elayne to reunite!

14. Sigh, their reasoning for staying: “Elayne would put up with anything to be Aes Sedai. And [Nynaeve]? Small chance that they could influence these Aes Sedai to support Rand if they had decided to try controlling him instead. Make that no chance, she might as well be realistic. And yet... And yet there was Healing. She would nothing of it in Cairhien, but here...” She hopes that if she can learn enough of Healing, she can help Rand stave off or reverse the madness that affects male channelers.

15. Bryne comes into the picture and is curt to Elayne, astonishing both Elayne and Nynaeve, and we get that bit of a weird dynamic where he lets Siuan known to do his laundry and then Siuan lets Min know to do Bryne’s laundry, and Min darts off. The Shieranans will temporarily join the army here and Thom will play stones with Bryne).

16. Elayne hurries off to talk to Min, while Nynaeve and Siuan have a conversation. So, first Nynaeve and Siuan. We get it clarified again that the stone ring doesn’t require channeling to work and possibly would work for a man as well as it would a woman.

17. After some tense... negotiation... Nynaeve and Siuan make a deal: she will teach them TAR with the stone ring and Siuan (and Leane) will let her study them to see if she can work out how to Heal stilling. Nynaeve is also SO HAPPY that someone “tried to bully her and failed”. Okay, okay. Yes, I like that a lot. This moment doesn’t make all those horrible crossed boundaries for Nynaeve earlier in the book worth it, but it’s such a good moment.

18. Elayne and Min! Here we go! Min is scurrying off to do Bryne’s laundry on Siuan’s orders when Elayne catches up to her. Anyway, the first thing we learn from Min is that “those three” (Nicola, Marigan, & Areina) are “trouble”. And we also learn that Min wishes that Elayne and Nynaeve were planning to run off to Cairhien, because she would want to go with them.

19. Okay, here we go.

Elayne: “Min, you had a viewing about Rand and me, didn’t you?”

Min: “Yes.” (wary)

Elayne: “You saw that we were going to fall in love.”

Min: “Not exactly. I saw that you’d fall in love with him. I don’t know what he feels for you, only that he’s tied to you in some way.”

Elayne: “And you saw there would be someone else. Someone I’d have to... share... him with.”

Min: “Two. Two others. And... and I’m one.”

Elayne: “You?”

Min: “Yes, me! Do you think I can’t fall in love? I didn’t want to, but I did, and that’s that.”

Elayne isn’t sure how she feels about this.

Elayne: “Who is the third?”

Min: “I don’t know. Only that she has a temper. Not Nynaeve, thank the Light. What does this mean between you and me? I like you. I never had a sister, but sometimes I feel you... I want to be your friend, Elayne, and I won’t stop liking you whatever happens, but I can’t stop loving him.”

Elayne: “I don’t very much like the idea of having to share a man.” (an understatement, she thinks)

Min: “Me, neither. Only... Elayne, it shames me to admit it, but I will take him any way I can get him. Not that either of us has much choice. Light, he’s scrambled my whole life. Just thinking about him scrambles my brains.” (Min sounds torn between laughter and tears; Elayne reminds herself that it’s not Min’s fault)

Elayne: “Ta’veren. He bends the world around him. We are chips caught in a whirlpool. But I seem to recall you and me and Egwene saying we’d never let a man come between us being friends. We will work it out somehow, Min. And when we find out who the third is... well, we’ll work that out, as well. Somehow.” (Elayne worries that the third one is Berelain)

Min: “Somehow. Meanwhile, you and I are caught here in a leg trap. I know there’s another, I know I can’t do anything about it, but I had enough trouble reconciling myself to you, and... Cairhierin women aren’t all like Moiraine. I saw a Cairhierin noblewoman in Baerlon once. On the surface, she made Moiraine look like Leane, but sometimes she said things, hinting. And her auras! I don’t think a man in the whole town was safe alone with her, not unless he was ugly, lame, and better yet, dead.”

Elayne: “Never you mind about that. We have another sister, you and I, one you’ve never met. Aviendha is keeping a close eye on Rand, and he doesn’t go ten steps without a guard of Aiel Maidens of the Spear.”

Okay, I’m gonna try to break this down a bit, because... there’s a lot. I know that I quoted the entire conversation! But... a lot to think about.

This is the part of the equation where my desired thing (polycule) is not really present and my not-as desired thing (harem) is, because of how much Elayne and Min don’t actually want to share and are instead both ‘reconciling’ themselves to the idea because they both want Rand that much. And that’s sad! I think/hope that this part of the vibe is the main thing that will be changed in the show (if we get there) -- Min’s relationship to the rest of the polycule. Because Rand-Elayne-Aviendha kinda already have a potentially good relationship forming and this will only continue once Elayne and Aviendha get to spend more time together and bond, but Min remains separated out from the rest of the group emotionally (and this will continue and even get worse as the story continues on).

It’s really Min who makes it feel like a harem instead of a polycule. (again, I do want to stress this is all about book!Min; show!Min has already been an improvement)

Also: her outburst about how Elayne’s surprise is due to her thinking that Min can’t fall in love? lol what? The book doesn’t actually get into why Elayne has a surprised reaction but if it were me, I would be surprised/wary that Min withheld this particular piece of info from me and cozened me into friendship while knowing that this huge thing about my potential future involves her. Jordan doesn’t do this in the book, because he wants them to Accept In Resignation (lol, the most romantic of choices! repeated at least once more in the future with another pairing, so Jordan was really attached to it) but honestly, if I were Elayne, finding this out from Min this way would absolutely make me doubt if her friendship was ever real or if she was instead trying to butter me up so that I would be more willing to share my boyfriend with her.

This is, also, to beat my Cauthor drum, lol, a place where Mat really does fit into the polycule more naturally than Min does, because he does form a strong connection (if antagonistic at times lol) with Elayne in addition to his established friendship with Rand, and he’s present for some “hey check out this poly vibe” moments with Rand and Aviendha in TSR & TFOH. And we also get to see Mat reconcile himself to caring about Rand in a much more natural and gradual way than Min does (though his is about adjusting to Rand being a channeler; but he doesn’t just flip a switch because ta’veren Says Thou Must be on the Dragon’s side; he has to go through several levels of processing).

But, yeah, again, this is a place where Fate Says Thou Must is really harshing my vibe of the relationship, because I would much rather that they want to be in a poly relationship with Rand because they actually want to be, rather than it be something that they’re forcing themselves to adjust to because Thou Must. Elayne and Min are kinda tentatively forming a United Front against Third Girl but that is... also not ideal lol. Obviously, that gets completely turned over for Elayne once she actually finds out who Third Girl is, but I’m not sure if it ever does, for Min. I think that may stay at ‘Resigned Acceptance’ for her.

That’s kinda the thing I’m going to looking out for, going ahead in the reread. If/when it ever feels like the people in this relationship actually want to be in this poly relationship as opposed to settling for a poly relationship because it’s the only way they think they can get the guy at the center of the relationship.

#wot #wheel of time #wot reread #the fires of heaven #wot book spoilers #wot spoilers

[issdisgrace]

Top Male Reader X Alejandro where they do it on the desk

A DEADLY MIXTURE

WARNINGS: Smut, my sir kink showing, spanking, degradation, talk of public sex and potential free use, Alejandro is a slut and we all know that

Alejandro was on my last nerve. He kept coming into my office throughout the day asking stupid question and teasing me. It was 20:00 when Alejandro came in once again.

“Alejandro, what the fuck do you want this time?”

“Cálmate amor.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Alejandro. You have been coming in all day asking the stupidest fucking questions. But you dare to tease me while asking your stupid questions. Like what you were doing already wasn’t irritating enough.”

“Amor, I didn’t mean to.”

“Oh, you know exactly what you were doing.” 

“I promise I didn’t mean to.”

“Shut up and get your ass over here.” I watch him like a hawk as he makes his way over to me. Once within reach, I pull him in and lay him across my lap, ass up. I pull down his pants and boxers, leaving him bare to me. 

“You are going to count to 15 and if you lose track, you're gonna start over. You got that?”

“Yes, sir.”

SMACK, One, SMACK, Two, SMACK, Three, SMACK, Four, SMACK, Five, SMACK, Six, SMACK, Seven, SMACK, Eight, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, SMACK, SMACK, Thirteen, Fourteen, SMACK, Fifteen.

“You did so good, baby boy.” I say as I rub his ass. “Would you like your reward now?”

“Yes, please.”

“Do you want me to bend you over this desk, or do you want me to take you back to the barracks?”

“Take me now, sir.”

I swiftly brush the stuff off the desk and move Alejandro to the desk. I grind my clothed cock into Alejandro. The most beautiful moan comes out of Alejandro.

“Prep or no prep.”

“No prep, I did it earlier.”

“See, you knew what you were doing. You were just playing dumb slut to get me in your pants. Well, if you're gonna be a slut, I might as well treat you like a slut.” I swiftly pull down my pants and I do exactly what I said I was going to do. I slam myself into him, hitting his prostate. I set a brutal paste that I keep for the whole time. With each thrust, Alejandro moans louder and louder, really sounding like a slut you’d pick up on the street to take home, then throw out once you had your way with them. 

“Damn Alejandro, who knew you could sound like such a slut? Do you get off on the thought that everyone in the surrounding offices and whoever walks by will be knowing what we're doing? Huh do you?”

“Y-y-es, sir.”

“Would you like me to take you in front of the Los Vaqueros? Do you want me to show them how much of a slut you are? Then after my demonstration, maybe I’ll leave you for their free use or maybe I’ll watch them brutalized those holes of your.”

With the brutal paste and the degrading suggestion, it must’ve sent Alejandro over the edge because before I know it, he squeezes extremely tight around me and cums. It's not just a little of cum, it's all over the floor, only being stopped by the desk. Good thing the stain will only be seen by me. The sight of his cum all over the floor and the squeezing of his hole makes me fold and let out my load into him. As we come down from our highs, I lean into his ear and tell him,

“You’re gonna clean your cum off my stuff and I’m gonna watch, but not right this second. I want to make sure you're filled up before you do that so I can watch my cum flow out of you. Then after your done with your original cleanup, you're going to clean up your second mess because trust me there will be another one . Got it.”

“Yes, sir.”

#alejandro vargas #cod #alejandro vargas x male reader #alejandro vargas x reader #cod x male reader #cod x reader

[promiseiwillwrite]

Quiet Cruelty

Something in me is very angry.

It's jaw is set. It's breathing controlled.

It's focus narrowed to the point where I am not fully processing auditory inputs.

I am on my best behavior.

But my anger is building.

I know what it is. My father is a chronic over-explainer. I have been given the parameters of high speed injection molding six or seven times on this visit, each time with greater complexity than the last.

He exists in a series of obsessive loops, which he is scrabbling to use to create security for himself, by taking refuge in his extensive knowledge, and is at the same time terrified of losing his mind like his mother.

But there is something adversarial in his presentations. Like he knows the knowledge he has is useless outside the settings of the factories he lived and worked in all his life, and that is someone else's fault. There is a need in him to push blame for that onto bad bosses and indifferent corporations.

But that is not my fault.

Except that I suspect that it Is, a bit. I did not ask to be born, but I absolutely changed the chaotic equations of his life. He had to try to create his June Cleaver fantasy life in his marriage, and nothing about what came after first that mold.

He has dedicated rumination loops for each of his ex wives and their associated drama. I am a part of those, and it will take him a lot of work to see me any other way.

He is lost inside his past, like I have been.

When I have gotten a word in edgewise, I have talked about the things I have done to get out of my mental illness. He is so trapped in honor culture, and devaluing himself for needing help that it is not even an option for him to get therapy.

And he has already rejected medication, after three doses.

I told him several times that just because he thinks judgy thoughts about himself doesn't mean I have to.

But I see it. And I feel my judgment of him. Because I have the same judgment of my own paradigm blindness. But you can't know what you don't know.

I see in myself a pervasive ability to re-write memory and history. And I don't want to re-write what went on. I want to know what is true.

Everyone in my family has clearly done this. He has told me about all the traveling and work he has done in one story, but then told me he was always there when he was supposed to pick us up for custody visits.

And sure. I am positive my mother sat in our car in the parking lot for hours waiting for him to get there on the wrong day on purpose at least once.

My dad has painted himself as a sober custodian of my drug addicted mother, and all his friends.

And he has never mentioned the beating.

That part of the divorce never happened for him.

And that is why I am angry. He has painted over it and made himself a victim whose only crime was that he loved my mother too much.

I will never be sure of everything I remember from my childhood. Memories of children in trauma are highly suggestible.

But some of my memories are definitely my memories.

Some things I was definitely not "told about" in some effort to poison me against him.

Though my mother did that too.

He seems so urgent to convince me that I was always loved and wanted.

But that simply was not my lived experience.

And it doesn't square with the beating. Or the terror.

But then, I look at my memories, and I question. What if the things I think I remember simply aren't real, when they have been real for me for 35 years?

This anger that is a part of me would just be projection.

And these things that happened 35 years ago have nothing to do with my reality now. Except everything.

And it all boils down to what I want.

I am at home in this anger. It is close in my heart, and comfortable there.

Because it was protecting me. It was an internalized experience of self love.

It was, and has been a relic of my soul, through all the hell I lived in, that held onto the fact that I was worth treating well. That I was worth protecting. That there was always something brave and unbroken in my soul.

It is my inch.

That one thing.

Self love presenting as anger is my first real, direct experience of it, and what I have always used to break through my mental problems.

I am worth more than his insecurity. I will not give him validation or worth.

And it is not my job to be brave for him, or rescue him from the hell he has made for himself.

My refusal to open the discussion of the abuse is as kind as I can be, and at once as cruel.

[lionheartslowstart]

Walking Away

A few days ago, I made an extremely difficult choice, maybe the most difficult choice I’ve ever had to make.

I walked away from my goddaughter.

My heart is broken. It’s not something I ever wanted to do, or thought I would have to do. I don’t count the first time, because her mother is the one who kicked me out of my goddaughter’s life, but this time it was my decision, and my decision alone. And I have to live with that. Why did I make this choice? In short? Her mother, whom I have referred to as “Trisha” on this blog.

--------------------

Back in 2018, Trisha and I had a massive falling out. I won’t get into it here, but you can read about it in “Mind the Empty Bottle With the Holes Along the Bottom,” (an apt comparison,) and a few other entries. In summer of 2019, almost a full year later, Trisha reached out to me telling me she had made a huge mistake by cutting me out of “Lexi’s” life, and asked me if I still wanted a relationship with her. Of course I immediately agreed, but held firm that I would not forgive Trisha, and I had no desire to have any kind of friendship with her. Our relationship and all of our interactions would solely be about Lexi.

Within a year or so, that changed. Trisha and started to talk more, and I slowly began to feel more comfortable with her, and even missed her friendship. I wrote about it on here, and then we ended up talking about it, and agreed to give friendship a try. And it was great, for about six months. Our dynamic felt relatively equal. She listened when I talked. She seemed genuinely interested in my life, and in having a healthy relationship. Then, of course, things changed.

I won’t get into everything that happened, not just because it’s a lot, but also to protect Trisha’s privacy, as some of the events that occurred were extremely personal to her. But here’s the gist: Beginning in October of 2021, Trisha suddenly reverted to her self-centered, extreme, destructive behavior. Certain things would happen, where she demanded a lot of me, inflicted her trauma upon me, and overall treated me like I was a tool rather than a person. As I wrote in my last text to her, she viewed me as nothing more than a wallet, someone to take Lexi when she had no one else, and a void for her to scream into when she felt like it.

Each time there was an interaction like this between us, I was not “allowed” to share my feelings. Whether it was because Trisha was still going through whatever she was going through at the time, she was unwell (she has a chronic illness), or she literally told me “I’m not in a place to discuss this right now,” Trisha created an environment where I felt stifled, and like I literally was unable to express how she made me feel. So I would sit on my feelings, tell myself it wasn’t the right time and I’d try again when she was in a better place, and then however many weeks later, something else would happen, and the cycle would begin again.

On one hand, I do, of course, regret giving Trisha another chance. I would have saved myself a lot of pain, anger, and exhaustion. Looking back, I don’t necessarily think Trisha was worthy of another chance, given everything she pulled. But manipulators do that. They trick you into believing that what happened really wasn’t as bad as you thought it was in the moment, and that they’re worthy of more chances. My recent ex was the same way. 

But the main reason I do regret giving Trisha another shot at friendship is because of Lexi. The first time our friendship ended, Lexi was only three going on four. And while she clearly still remembered me, I believe those memories would have faded over time, at the very least to where it didn’t hurt her anymore. Now she is seven. I doubt she’ll forget me, and I know she’ll acutely feel the pain of my absence. There is a possibility it won’t affect her too much, as so many people have come in and out of her life, but that somehow seems much worse. I hope that when she turns eighteen, Lexi might feel comfortable reaching out to me. I would be so happy to hear from her and pick our relationship right back up again. I communicated this to her mother, but I doubt she will encourage that, or even communicate it to Lexi. Whether Lexi ever chooses to have me in her life or not, I will forever see her as my goddaughter, and I will always love her, for the rest of my life.

On the other hand, I stand by my choices regarding allowing Trisha back into my life. Initially, it was solely for Lexi’s sake. But over time, I did start to care for and trust Trisha again. I did everything “correctly,” too. I started slow, kept my guard up, and only let her in piece by piece, over an entire year. I waited for her to “prove” to me that she had really grown and changed. And it really did seem like she had. But again, that’s what manipulators do, and they’re quite good at it. She lulled me into a false sense of security and waited until I felt comfortable, and then she resorted to the same toxic bullshit she put me through four years ago. Except this time, I think it may have actually been worse.

What it really comes down to is that I’m too eager to see the best in people. Especially people I care about, or once cared about. I like to believe people can change, and while I do still do believe that, I’ve now come to the conclusion that most people do not. Some may not want to, and some just can’t, though I suppose the reason doesn’t really matter. Either way, I’m done doling out chances.

As I said, this was an extremely difficult and heartbreaking choice. I love my goddaughter, and I want her in my life. But I refuse to watch myself be put through the same shit, especially by the same person, over and over and over again. It was a slow build up at first, over several months, like I said. But then suddenly I was having hours-long panic attacks and several nightmares each night. I was stressed and angry pretty much all the time. It got to the point where Trisha was consuming most of my focus and emotional energy almost 24/7. But this time, instead of tolerating it for several months and waiting for Trisha to pull the plug, I only put up with it for about two weeks before I abruptly realized something needed to change, and it needed to change immediately. I have made tremendous leaps and bounds regarding my own growth in the last few years, and I will NOT allow any single person to drag me into the mud with them. Never again.

--------------------

While I will not discuss the vast majority of our relationship, or the details of its deterioration, I will share one particular event. Not only was this specific incident sort of the beginning of the end, but I found it so utterly repugnant that I feel it deserves to be brought into the light.

There was an...incident in April. I will not elaborate on what that incident was, for Trisha’s privacy, but I will say she ended up saying something so utterly disgraceful that all of my emotions for her just completely shut down. It is the kind of statement that, in my opinion, is pure evil and cannot be unspoken. (Not to mention, the incident itself was exceedingly heinous on its own for a whole slew of reasons, even aside from the statement itself.) While I won’t discuss the incident or statement further, it is relevant to the story, largely because I never got any acknowledgement or apology. Nothing. My mother, a very wise woman, pointed out to me that, “Trisha is so wrapped up in her own bullshit that, once she moves on from something, it’s like it never happened. She’s not capable of taking the time to consider that you might have your own thoughts and feelings on the matter which need to be resolved.” This statement alone covers many, if not most, of the interactions throughout our friendship.

A week, one week, after this incident and accompanying statement, without even a half-assed pretend apology, Trisha called me and asked me for my credit card information over the phone.

Yes. You read that correctly.

In a vacuum, that is disgusting enough on its own. The utter audacity, to ask someone for something like that. I’m getting angry just thinking about it.

The circumstance was that Trisha was taking Lexi on a very special trip for her birthday. I was not invited on this trip, which really hurt me considering my relationship with both Lexi and Trisha. I expressed that to Trisha, and in return got some bullshit response about why she was taking her on again off again boyfriend of a year instead of me. Which, fine, that’s her choice, but I bring this up because it makes asking me for my credit card even worse. I would have been much more inclined to help out financially if I was the one invited on the trip. So it was like an extra slap in the face that she had the gall to ask me that after telling me I wasn’t invited.

The reason she asked me was because, despite booking the rental car online, they were asking for a deposit on a credit card. Trisha does not have a credit card, and was not prepared to put the deposit on her debit card (for which car rental companies often add a ridiculous surcharge), because she had budgeted specifically for the trip.

But here’s the thing. Car rental companies are very explicit about having you leave a deposit. It reminds you several times when you book on their websites. And I’ve traveled enough to know that. So, either Trisha rushed through the booking and was not paying attention (which is foolish, as you should always triple check everything when you take an expensive trip), or, she made plans with the intention of calling me to ask me for my credit card information, expecting me to provide it for Lexi’s sake. Sadly, I think both are equally likely.

It was a horrible position to be put in, and any decent person wouldn’t have even thought to ask. Obviously I want my goddaughter to have a good trip, but there’s no way I’m giving anyone my credit card information, especially over the phone. That’s like giving out my social security number! But even if there were some people I felt comfortable sharing my credit card number with, it would never be Trisha. I have zero reason to trust her with that kind of sensitive information, in any context, and I believe with my whole heart that both Trisha and her boyfriend would abuse that knowledge.

Plus, even after I said I couldn’t help her as politely as possible, she had the nerve to implore me to ask my parents, which I flat out refused. I can’t think of a single person in my life who would think for even a moment that it would be appropriate to ask me for my credit card information, let alone my fucking parents. I breathed through the interaction and maintained my composure, but when I got off the phone, I was shaking with rage. 

Clearly, Trisha was able to figure something out, because the next day I got a phone call from Lexi telling me how much fun she was having and how much she wished I was there. (Yeah, me too, girl.) Trisha sent me some photos, and that was it.

A few other things happened after this interaction, but I don’t feel the need to delve into the details. Nor do I feel the need to discuss any of the other incidents that occurred before this one. I think I’ve said more than enough using just this one example alone.

--------------------

I fully, with every fiber of my being, believe Trisha is a narcissist. Have I accused others of that in the recent past, yes. And I stand by those accusations. There are more narcissists in the world than you think. Can narcissists change? Definitely. But they RARELY do. Trisha has done so many things that back up my opinion. And a lot of people, especially people who have met her, agree with me.

Yes, Trisha has had an extremely difficult life, and she has a lot of trauma. And while both of those things are totally valid, neither of them excuse how she treated me. I tried my best to love her and be a good friend to her, but it was never enough, and she never repaid me in kind. She has successfully pushed away everyone who didn’t abandon her. She has no real friends or family, and I can’t be sad for her anymore. That’s over. She is extremely unstable and never actually commits to self-reflection and healing for very long before trying some “get-stable-quick” scheme that inevitably ends up making her even more unstable. Much of her misery is her own making. Certainly not all of it, but I truly believe she’d be in a much better place if she wasn’t such a fucking narcissist.

I’m worried about Lexi. Trisha loves Lexi, of that, I have no doubt. But I also see that she’s clearly projecting her own trauma onto Lexi and trying to heal vicariously through her. And when Lexi gets older and starts wanting to spend more time with friends, and starts developing her own interests and personality that are less like her mother’s...that’s going to cause problems. Couple that with the fact that Trisha has successfully driven away many of the other people Lexi grew up knowing and loving, I fear Lexi is going to end up just as traumatized and unstable as her mother. She almost certainly already has abandonment issues. The worst part though, is that, despite how unstable and narcissistic Trisha is, I know that Lexi is still better off with her mother than in foster care. (It is utterly horrific how deplorable the American foster system is.)

I love Lexi, with every fiber of my being. I wish there was a way for me to be in her life without her mother, but there isn’t. And her mother is such a disgusting, toxic person that, despite really trying to keep her at a safe distance, I’m just not able to. I am finally at a point in my life where I am surrounded by mature, well-intentioned, (relatively) stable people, who value me and my friendship, and support that assertion with their actions. Trisha was the very last vestige of the toxic, abusive, narcissists who used me for personal gain and brought nothing into my life but misery, anxiety, and trauma. And I’m not sorry she’s gone.

--------------------

A few days ago, I sent Trisha a text, officially severing contact. It’s not that I feel the need to explain everything to her, or make her see herself or what she’s done. In fact, I’ve pretty much skipped that phase altogether. I accept I will never get closure, or a sincere apology, and I’m okay with that. I’d rather not waste the energy. I did consider just blocking her on everything quietly, but I decided against that. Not because I think she would retaliate in some way, but because, even though I can’t control what Trisha tells Lexi, if anything, I needed to have it on paper that it was Trisha’s own fault I was leaving Lexi, and nothing to with my feelings about Lexi herself. As I said, I can’t control Trisha or her actions, but I can control my own, and I did the best I could to walk away from that situation and still be able to sleep at night.

Like in this entry, I didn’t detail every single thing that happened during this two year long period of our friendship, nor did I feel the need to. I expressed what I needed to express with absolutely zero intention of engaging in any kind of back and forth over it. However, Trisha was able to respond to me just before I blocked her number. I didn’t read it, because I didn’t want to, but I did end up glimpsing the very first sentence as the text popped up on my screen.

“I’m not going to continue reading this because it’s extremely accusatory.”

And that, that right there, confirmed everything I already knew, and that I was making the right choice.

I took a deep breath, blocked her, and deleted the texts.

Vindication has never tasted so bitter.

#personal #loss #sad #depressed #choice

[scuttling]

Lean on Me

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Gender Neutral Reader Word Count: 4,717 Tags: SFW, Fluff, 5+1 Trope, Obliviousness, Mutual pining, Aaron Hotchner deserves good things, Canon typical injury Summary: Five times you want to kiss the frown off of your boss's face, and one time you actually do it. *Requested by Anon. Link to AO3 or read below! “It doesn’t make sense.”

You stick a tack in a photo of a murdered woman—unfortunately one of many you’ve stuck to this board—and turn to face Hotch, who is looking over your handiwork with a quizzical expression.

“What doesn’t?” He takes a few steps closer, crosses his arms in front of him.

“Why would the unsub leave his comfort zone? The first six abductions occurred within five miles of the college, so why did the seventh and eighth happen almost twelve miles away?” He reaches for the board, traces his finger along the circle Reid had colored in on the map. “We profiled that he’s disorganized and far from confident, so why would he do that?”

He looks over at you, frowns, and not for the first time your gaze is drawn to the little crease between his eyebrows that always forms when he is puzzled, worried, confused, stressed, or otherwise unhappy. In short, it’s there kind of all of the time.

For the first time, though, you think of how easy it would be to lean over, press your lips there, smooth it out, and maybe even get him to smile for a change. He has a great smile, when he lets people see it.

You shake the daydream, rewind back to the question he asked, and wrinkle your nose in thought.

“Maybe his circumstances changed? It's summer now, and there are still classes, but students aren’t living in the dorms. Maybe he moved back home or got an apartment off campus that’s within that area—or a job.” He sighs, runs a hand over the back of his head, nods.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. That’s good. I’ll mention it to the others.” He pulls out his phone, and you grab another photo, another thumbtack, but something stops you and you lay a gentle hand on his arm.

“You don’t have to think of everything, you know. That’s why you have us.” He exhales, his shoulders losing a little of their tension, and that forehead wrinkle gets a little less deep.

“Sometimes I forget that not everything needs to be done the hard way. Or by me.”

“What? You, Aaron Hotchner, doing things the hard way?” you tease, and you are gifted a glimpse of his rare, unfiltered smile.

“Okay, enough pointing out my flaws,” he says with a raised eyebrow, though he’s still smiling, and as he looks down to type out a text, you remember to pull back your hand.

“I would never.” He looks up from his phone at that—maybe at the conviction in your voice, which you hadn’t exactly intended—and his expression softens further.

“I know you wouldn’t.” You hold eye contact for a moment, and then turn to finish preparing the board, pinning up another photo of another woman and reminding yourself that they need you to focus on the task at hand. Two weeks later, you knock on Hotch’s office door, a stack of completed consults in your hand. He looks up, that familiar notch in between his brows, a scowl on his face; when he sees that it’s you, he tones it down a little.

“Draw the short straw?” he asks, and you figure that’s because everyone knows he is in a bad mood and they’ve been avoiding this office all day. You shrug.

“It was rock, paper, scissors, but yes.” He huffs a short laugh, and you smile, step toward his desk. “Anything I can do to lighten the load?”

“Technically you’re adding to it,” he says with a glance at the files in your hand, and you set them on one of the chairs with a purposefully loud thump and then take the other seat.

“Technically. But technically, you only need to review my consults; I can review theirs. Right?” He mulls it over a moment, like the thought never crossed his mind—of course Aaron I have to do everything myself Hotchner would never suggest such a thing, even as the team sits in the bullpen with nothing to do, seeing who can throw M&Ms into Spencer’s mouth from the furthest distance.

“Technically,” he agrees, and you pluck a pen out of his pen cup and take the first file off the pile, open it in front of yourself, careful not to cut into the workspace he’s occupying. You both smile softly down at your work, and you actively do not think about that wrinkle between his eyebrows.

About an hour later, he reaches for his mug out of habit but finds it empty; you stand, take it in your hand, and he makes a noise of protest.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” you say, and you walk toward the door. “I need some too. I’ll be right back.”

You pass through the bullpen—apparently the M&M contest led to a sugar crash, because Spencer is laying with his head on his desk—and grab your cup off your desk, take both to the break room to fill them.

Derek appears next to you as you’re stirring your sugar in.

“Coffee date with the boss?” he asks with a curious expression, and you shake your head.

“Of course not. I’m helping him with the overwhelming amount of paperwork on his desk so his mood improves, instead of just ignoring him.” You raise an eyebrow in challenge, and Derek scratches the back of his head.

“Never thought of that,” he admits, and you pat him on the arm and take your coffees back upstairs.

Hotch looks up at you as you set his mug down, says a soft thank you, and you grab the pile of files you brought up, separate them, and head back downstairs.

“You review mine,” you say to Derek, handing him a stack, “Emily take Spencer’s, Spencer take Derek’s, I’ll take Emily’s.” They look at you like they have no idea what to say, and you just smile, tap the top of Spencer’s head with a folder. “I’ll come back down and grab them in a little bit.”

“Yes, boss,” Emily says, and you grin on your way back upstairs. Hotch is standing when you arrive this time, looking out the window over the bullpen.

“What did you do?” he asks, turning to you, frowning again. You’re so close that kissing that wrinkle would be effortless. All you’d have to do is lean in.

You smile.

“I delegated, Hotch. You should try it some time.” You put your hands on his arms and guide him back to his desk. “Now what can I help you with?”

By the end of the day, his desk is clean and his bad mood is long gone. He closes the last of his files, sighs deeply, covers your hand with one of his, and says thank you.

The next morning when you come in, there is a steaming latte and a cookie on your desk, and you can’t stop smiling the rest of the day. Your next case is draining, children abducted and left for dead, and everyone is on edge, but no one more than Hotch. You’re fairly certain his face hasn’t relaxed since the initial briefing, and he’d be a prime candidate for the old ‘your face will get stuck like that’ joke, if anyone was up to joking.

The team catches the unsub, saves one child, but not until after three are dead; you take a late flight home because no one wants to stay another night in a town it feels like you’ve failed, and everyone curls up to get some rest except you and Hotch.

You try to read the book you brought along—a science fiction dystopian novel, something to get you out of your head and away from real life problems—but you’re a little distracted by Hotch’s sighing. It’s become an every-five-minutes thing, and while you’re definitely on board with sighing as a way to decompress, he’s not decompressing. He looks like he’s in pain mentally, exhausted physically; you’re not sure how everyone else was able to ignore it and go to sleep, but then you figure everyone else may not be as in tune with him as you are. As observant.

As in love.

Not that that matters: you know your issues, and some of his issues, and there’s the whole superior/subordinate thing which doesn’t really do anything for you except give you a stomach ache. It would never work out, even if he somehow, miraculously, were to love you back—and that’s a pretty big if in and of itself.

But still, you notice him, can’t help it, and the sighing is getting to be a little much. You sigh yourself, put your finger in between the pages of your book, and walk over to take the seat next to him; he looks over at you, frowning just like always, and you carefully close his file and set it aside.

Neither of you say anything to the other, just look each other over for a moment, and then you lean lightly against his shoulder and flip back to the beginning of your book.

“I still dream of the island. I sometimes approach it across water, but more often through air, like a bird, with a great wind under my wings. The shores rise rain-coloured on the horizon of sleep, and in their quiet circle the buildings: the houses grown along the canals, the workshops of inkmasters, the low-ceilinged taverns.”

You keep your voice low and soothing, and you are just turning to page fifteen when you feel the weight of his head drop onto your shoulder.

The crease between his eyes melts away in sleep.

You read until you make it home, and you wake him up with a gentle nudge before the rest of the team drifts back to consciousness. He looks at you, blinks slowly like he’s trying to remember where he is, and then gets a little sheepish when he puts two and two together, realizes he fell asleep on your shoulder.

You just shake your head, give his arm a squeeze, and head back to your seat to gather your things. You, Hotch, and Emily are catching the elevator to the parking garage—after staying two hours later to work on some rush consults straight from Strauss—when he looks at something on his phone that makes him groan aloud. You and Emily share a look, and you ask what’s wrong.

“I just remembered I’m supposed to have a treat for Jack to take to school tomorrow and it’s, what, seven thirty?”

“So just stop at the supermarket on your way home; no one can tell the difference anyway,” Emily says, but you and Hotch both shoot her a skeptical glance.

“It’s all about the treats at a school like Jack’s,” you supply, and Hotch looks over at you like he’s surprised by your comment. “If they’re not homemade, the parents talk. Plus there’s probably an allergen list a mile long: no nuts, no eggs, no soy, no dairy. You have to pick him up from Haley’s tonight, right?” You’re pretty sure, but when he nods he confirms it. “So pick him up, go home and get some dinner, put him to bed, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way over with the goods. I have a great recipe for vegan apple cinnamon muffins that will go over really well.”

“You really don’t have to do that; I’ll figure something out,” he says, but you just shake your head and pull up the recipe on your phone.

“Forget it, it’s already done. I have everything I need at home already; let me help,” you murmur softly, and when he looks at you with the furrowed brow that comes with accepting kindness from someone else, you almost forget it’s not just the two of you in the elevator. It’s only when Emily clears her throat that the eye contact breaks. He nods.

“Okay. Thank you; I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” The elevator dings and it stops at the parking garage; the three of you get off and head in separate directions for your cars. “I’ll text you.”

“Goodnight,” Emily says with a grin, and you wave at her, hop into your car, and head for home.

About two hours later, you show up at Hotch’s door with two dozen apple cinnamon muffins, and unbleached, whole wheat flour in your hair, and he has coffee brewing, a smile on his face.

“You don’t know how grateful I am,” he says as he ushers you into the kitchen, takes the boxes of muffins from your hands, and pours you a cup of dark, delicious coffee. You sip it slowly, savoring the taste—you should have known he’d have incredible coffee—even though it’s far too late for you to be indulging. Unless you’re working a case, you usually switch to decaf by three.

“I know you are. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think you’d appreciate the gesture.” You lean forward, open a box, and pull out two muffins, handing one to him. “I made a couple extra so we could taste test; if I accidentally put salt in instead of sugar, you’re on your own,” you joke, and you wait for him to taste it before taking your own bite.

“That’s delicious. There’s really nothing unapproved in here?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“Nope, it’s all healthy and allergen free, except for the flour, but that wasn’t on the list you sent.” He reaches a hand toward you, and you don’t realize, at first, that he’s brushing the flour out of your hair.

“Messy baker,” he teases, and your heart feels really full, being in his kitchen like this, warm muffins and fresh coffee, even if your hair is a mess. You smile, and he smiles back before dropping into that serious expression, eyebrow wrinkle and all. You think about brushing your lips there tonight, but this feels like two steps forward, and you don’t want to risk taking that step back. “Next time I’ll help you.”

“Oh, next time? You plan on needing my baking expertise again? Fair warning, this is the only recipe I know, so I hope you like apple cinnamon muffins.” You take a sip of your coffee, look up at him, and he takes another bite, nods his head.

“I do. Especially these.”

In a perfect world, what comes next would be a cinnamony, coffee flavored kiss, but the world’s not perfect, and you yawn instead. You look down at your mug like it’s betrayed you, and Hotch chuckles low.

“It’s decaf. I know you usually stop in the afternoon; I wouldn’t forgive myself if you were up all night because of me.” You have always been a person who falls in love with all the little details about someone, so the fact that he’s noticed this, remembers this, makes your heart beat a little faster. “I should let you go. You’ve done so much today, between staying late and baking for Jack—for me. You need to get some sleep.”

He’s right, it’s nearly ten, and you should be getting back home, but this is a moment you never want to end.

You just nod, though, and he reaches out to brush his hand over your back when he walks you to the door.

“Thank you again. I really appreciate that you did this for me,” he says, soft, like he still can’t imagine you would.

“You’re welcome, Hotch. Any time, really; I’m happy to help.”

You get home, clean your kitchen, and have a very late dinner, and the smell of good coffee and apples and cinnamon is still in your nose when you drift to sleep. “You didn’t hear what he said,” Hotch snaps almost a month later, with one hand splayed on his hip and the other on the table in front of him. The moment you saw him engaged in an argument with a member of the Sheriff’s department, fire in his eyes, you’d grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into a small conference room, shutting the door behind you. It took almost three minutes of staring at each other for him to say something instead of just glaring at you for interrupting the pissing contest.

“I don’t need to know what he said. I know you, and I know you handle people like that with a quick, sharp remark and then you wash your hands of it. You don’t argue back and forth, you don’t draw it out. You would have regretted it if you did that today, so I stopped you.”

“You think you know me so well, do you?” he asks in an unkind tone of voice you can’t identify, haven’t heard from him before; the expression on his face is familiar, though, a scowl that only puts emphasis on his handsome features—it’s unfair, really.

You exhale, cross your arms.

“Yes, and I know you well enough to know you’re irritated with him, not me, so cut the shit.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever been quite that direct with him, and certainly the first time you’ve ever sworn at him; your immediate instinct is to apologize, but he surprises you by huffing a laugh. The angry lines of his face smooth into something softer.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. He just—I can’t stand people like that.” He scrubs a hand through his hair in irritation. “We’re here to work—to do a job they couldn’t finish on their own. Not to be… objectified.” He mutters the last word, so low you almost don’t hear it, and then there’s a knock at the door. Derek enters.

“Sheriff wants a word, Hotch; do you have a sec?” With one last look at you, he nods, brushes past him to leave the room. Derek gives you the barest hint of a smile. “He was defending your honor, you know.”

You frown. You didn’t know.

“That jerk was talking about me?” you ask, clarifying, and he nods.

“Something about assuming you’re an athlete because he likes your ass. Set the boss man off.” You walk over to him and leave the room together, heading back to your workspace.

“Well Hotch is right, we’re here to work, not to be objectified. I can see how he would get angry.” Derek shoots you a flat, questioning glance.

“You think he’d be getting that worked up if it was my ass that guy was talking about? Or Emily’s?” The two of you stop outside the conference room, and you cross your arms, lean against the doorframe, frown.

“So what are you trying to say? That he sees me as being weak, thinks he needs to defend me? I'm as capable as either of you.” That may not be strictly true, because you’re a little more brains than brawn, like Spencer in that way, but you can hold your own and you thought Hotch knew that.

Derek just laughs, shakes his head, and ducks into the room. You follow, so confused.

“I thought you were just playing it close to the vest, but you’re oblivious, aren’t you?”

“Oblivious about what?” Emily asks, pen between her teeth, feet kicked up onto a chair, and you shrug.

“I’m still not sure. Hotch got into an argument with a deputy about me, and I asked Derek if Hotch thinks I’m weak and that’s why he felt like he had to defend me.” She smiles broadly around the pen, pulls it out of her mouth with a grin.

“Oh, honey. That’s not it. You know that’s not it, right?”

“I clearly don’t know what’s going on at all, so no, if you’d care to enlighten me,” you say, sinking into an empty chair. “I hate it when you guys are cryptic.” You love your team, but they have a habit of doing this all the time, saying things to each other with their eyes, or just a few words that don’t have any sensible meaning that you know of. It’s like they live to talk over your head, to say things without actually saying them.

“Okay. Hotch has a thing for you,” Emily says simply, and you blink.

Well that’s the very last thing you’d expected to hear.

“He absolutely does not.” You look at Derek, who’s making a face like you’re the one being crazy; you laugh out loud, can’t help it. “He does not. I’m pretty sure Hotch doesn’t have things, and if he did, he wouldn’t have a thing for me.”

“Why not? Because that would be too convenient, since you have a thing for him too?” Derek asks, taking the seat across from you, and you grab the nearest case file, flip it open and focus your attention on it.

“I care about him, the same way I care about all of you, and he maybe needs a little more care—but you guys are reading into things.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to say anything more, because Hotch, JJ, and Spencer return, and you all have a lead to work.

You can’t help but wonder if you’re being obvious about your feelings, though, especially later, when you get back to the hotel and the group decides to have a drink at the bar.

JJ and Emily hit the pool table while Derek and Spencer head up for drinks, and you are left sitting with Hotch at the table, pressed together in the inside corner of a booth.

“Tired?” you ask him, because he does look worn out, his tie a bit loose, his eyes a little red. You know he doesn’t get much sleep when you travel, and you can’t imagine he’ll go to bed even when this little detour is over.

“Always,” he sighs, but when he looks over at you, he smiles, just a little. “Just can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“Yeah, it gives Southern hospitality a whole new meaning, doesn’t it?” The people you’ve interviewed today are, on paper, quite respectable, but there’s a Desperate Housewives, ‘everyone is sleeping with someone else's spouse’ kind of thing going on, and it’s honestly exhausting. To your surprise, Hotch laughs.

“It really does. I don’t think I’ve ever missed the quiet solitude of my apartment quite this much.” You lean back against the vinyl of the booth, sigh.

“I miss my apartment, but it’s been too quiet lately. I prefer the sounds of someone else sharing space with me: the coffee maker percolating, the news in the background, the shower running, the sound of flipping the pages of a book or magazine.” You look down at your hands, because you’re getting a little more emotional than you usually let other people see. “Sorry. I’m not typically this open about being…”

You trail off, but Hotch looks over at you, concerned, the wrinkle between his eyebrows even more noticeable when you’re sitting this close. You think, just briefly, of running your thumb over it, but with your luck, Derek or Emily would see, and you’d never live it down.

“Lonely?” he finishes softly, and when you nod your head, he covers your hands with one of his own, bumps his shoulder against yours. “I get lonely too. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” You look up at him, feeling a little vulnerable, and his expression softens. “When we get back, maybe you could come over for dinner some night. Nothing fancy,” he clarifies, and you smile, “just two lonely people being a little less lonely.”

“That would be really nice.” You can see Derek and Spencer approaching out of the corner of your eye, and Hotch must too, because he removes his hand, slips back into the slight, persistent frown you have come to know and love. Derek looks at you, raises an eyebrow, and hands you your beer. You try to tell him to shut up with your face, plan to follow up later to see if that actually worked. “We have an agent down on the second floor,” Spencer says into his comms, and you immediately want to slap him in the back of the head.

“Don’t say agent down, kid; I’m like, slightly wounded at best.” You hold a hand against the stab wound on your side—the unsub honestly just grazed you, and you’d knocked him out with a single punch, which made you feel pretty awesome—and reach out the other so he can help pull you to your feet. Your hand comes up to your own walkie button. “I’m not down, I’m fine—just slightly stabbed,” you add, and Spencer is getting his cuffs on the unsub when Hotch and JJ burst through the doors.

Well, Hotch bursts. JJ follows behind looking strangely winded for one of the most naturally athletic people you know.

“What happened? Are you alright?” he asks, and you lift your shirt to show him the sluggishly bleeding gash.

“I’m fine, see? It’s not even deep. Spencer saw blood and got a little ahead of himself.” You turn to Spencer, who sticks out his tongue, then back to Hotch, who looks haunted and pale, with that goddamn wrinkle between his eyebrows again. He’s bent down, looking over your wound seriously—you’ve had worse, so much worse, that you don’t understand why he’s so worried about it—and then he leans up, presses a hand to your cheek, and pulls you close for a soft, tender kiss.

If this were a movie, right about now a camera would be panning around you in a circle, as you wrap your free hand around his neck, pull him closer, melt against his body like it’s all you’ve been dreaming of for months, and the two of you would break apart smiling, maybe even kiss again.

It’s not a movie, though, so you just bleed out against your hand and freeze, because Hotch is kissing you at a crime scene and you almost got filleted, so you’re not sure if this is a you got hurt, so I’d better kiss you kiss or an I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever, and you got hurt so I have to kiss you kiss.

When he breaks the kiss, you’re both breathing a bit heavily, and you don’t know what to do, so you just lean in and press your lips to that wrinkle between his eyebrows that you’ve been thinking about so frequently since the first time you noticed it. You brush a hand through his hair, and when you pull back, he’s smiling.

“What was that?” He covers your hand on your side with his own and helps get you toward the elevator so you can be patched up by the EMTs; JJ and Spencer are left staring, open-mouthed in your wake, with an unconscious unsub at their feet, but neither of you are concerned about that.

“I’ve been thinking of doing that for months now: to kiss that spot between your eyes so you’ll stop frowning for a change. Since I couldn’t, I decided to find other ways to help you stop frowning so much. It kind of became my life’s mission.” He sighs, puts his arm around you and holds you close while you wait for the elevator to bring you to the ground floor.

“I stop frowning when you’re around because you’re around, not just because of the things you do for me,” he tells you, and he presses his lips to yours for another warm, soft, perfect kiss. “I’ve been thinking of doing that for months now.” You tilt your head, make a sound of contemplation, and he chuckles softly. “What is it?”

“I think those cryptic idiots we work with might be onto something,” you say with a grin, and when the elevator lets you off and Hotch helps you toward the ambulance to be patched up, Derek and Emily are waiting with concerned looks on their faces. They must be pretty confused to see you’re grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, you guys were right; Hotch does have a thing for me!” you call as you walk past them, and when your wound is properly dressed and wrapped, you put your arms around his neck and let him kiss you until the frown and accompanying wrinkle are nothing but distant memories.

*The novel excerpt is from The Weaver by Emmi Itäranta.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt #aaron hotchner x gn reader #hotch x gn reader #request

[lawngnomeofdoom]

Part Four: when I'm near you

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Summary: Connor seeks advice on his new emotions from Markus, but when Connor is resistant to his suggestions, Markus decides to force his hand. Some jealous Connor fluff!

A/N: Yay part four! Thank you for reading this far and for all the kind messages, hearts, and reblogs, it all means the world to me. Keep being kind to each other :)

“Markus, thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” Connor said rising from the café table to greet his friend.

“Of course Connor, I must say that I was surprised that you asked me for coffee though,” Markus said taking a seat across from him. Outside the café’s window was the police station, and citizens of Detroit moving about their day, humans, and androids alike, thanks to Markus.

“Oh?” Connor asked wondering what social faux pas he had committed now.

“Well I’m happy for the company Connor, but neither of us drinks coffee.” He explained.

“Right, I suppose it’s a human phrase I’ve picked up.”

“So, what’s on your mind?” Markus asked, his eyes studying Connor’s. Seeing Markus and other members of Jericho act so naturally human was a wonder to Connor, but it also made him feel inferior in some sense, why couldn’t he adjust like them? He did think he had been making decent progress until Y/N arrived.

“I wanted to ask you for some advice regarding new emotions I’m struggling with.”

“I see, what emotions seem to be troubling you Connor?”

“Ones having to do with…affection.” He replied after a brief pause. To Connor’s surprise, the corners of Markus’ lips crept up into an amused smile.

“What’s her name?” He asked. Connor’s face became bashfully blue with a thirium blush. He thought of feigning offense, why would Markus assume he had to ask about a particular person? But the success of that scenario was well below 0%, Connor knew that without a preconstruction.

“Y/N.” He admitted finally.

“Tell me about her.” Markus grinned ear to ear as he leaned back in his chair.

“I met her at the station, she is a detective and an old friend of Hank’s. She’s highly intelligent, a very efficient officer. Her work ethic is one I greatly admire.” Connor told him. Markus raised a brow.

“And?”

“And… she has a lovely laugh, something about it brings about a certain feeling akin to peace in me. Y/N is kind, she treats me like…like a person, with respect and integrity. I have found myself enjoying listening to her speak, even if it is on mundane things, she makes them fascinating somehow. I have also found myself trying to memorize things about her, the way she likes her coffee, the way she bites her bottom lip when she’s thinking, and the songs she hums to herself. Oh and she smells like lilacs.” Connor finished. He looked up to see that the expression on Markus' face had shifted from playful curiosity to a sincere gaze.

“Oh, Connor.” Was all he said.

“I am struggling because I find myself distracted by Y/N on a daily basis. My eyes and my thoughts always wander back to her. We were at a crime scene and I whispered something lewd in her ear, I’ve never done anything like that before.” Connor finished.

“What do you need from me, Connor?” Markus asked leaning forward.

“I wanted your advice on how to rectify the situation.”

“Rectify?”

“Yes, I…” Connor glanced around their surroundings and leaned in, whispering to him.

“I had lustful thoughts about her just the other day. I imagined her and I were… well long story short, I imagined her in a rather compromising position over my desk.” Connor told him as softly as possible. Markus kept a straight face for a moment until his bottom lip quivered and he burst into a fit of laughter. Connor sat back with his hands on the table, perplexed by the hysteric reaction.

“I’m sorry Connor, I really am. I just never thought I would see this day.” Markus explained after catching his breath.

“What day?”

“The day Connor, the most advanced android out there, has a crush on someone.” He smiled.

“Markus don’t be ridiculous. We discussed it the other day, Y/N and I are just friends.”

“Do you imagine bending all your friends over your desk?”

“No! That’s precisely why I need your help in preventing those thoughts from further polluting our friendship.” Connor insisted. Markus shook his head.

“Connor, this is a confusing time for our people. Every new emotion is terrifying, uncharted territory but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t explore it. It means the exact opposite in fact.”

“I don’t think I can do that, thank you for meeting with me Markus but I’ll just have to figure this out myself,” Connor said standing from his seat briskly and leaving Markus alone in the café.

A few hours later Connor glanced up from his terminal for the tenth time in the last half hour hoping to see you at your desk. He knew you’d be at lunch around this hour, but you usually took it at your desk, or if you did go out for food it wasn’t for this long. Hank noticed his constant checks and rolled his eyes.

“She said she was with a friend for lunch.” He grumbled.

“Oh." Connor said fiddling with a pen. A clock ticked loudly in the mostly vacant station.

“What friend?” He asked after a moment. Hank raised a brow.

“I didn’t interrogate her on who she eats burgers with, does it matter?”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” Connor yielded. Another few minutes went by and Connor’s head shot up as he heard your laugh echo across the station along with a familiar male voice. His eyes quickly found you as you walked to your desk, located to the right of his own. He noticed first that the man you’re with has his hand on the small of your back, and that man was Markus.

“Jeez Connor, you okay?” Hank asks. Connor notices for the first time that he had completely crushed the pen he had been holding, the ink staining his hand.

“You can’t be serious Markus that is unbelievable.” You say sitting down in your desk chair. Markus sits on the edge of your desk facing you, he gives Connor a sly side-eye before continuing.

“Honest to God, can’t make stuff like that up. Oh, hey Connor.” Markus smiles, giving him a cheerful wave.

“Markus. What are you doing?” Connor asked, his tone dry and demanding.

“Just meeting friends of my friends. I came looking for you but ended up meeting Y/N by chance. I know you two are such good friends, I thought it only right to invite her out to lunch.”

“Thank you again for buying me lunch Markus you really didn’t have to.” You say and lightly pat his hand, making Connor’s fist tighten again.

“You bought her lunch?” Connor questioned with a sharp edge to his voice.

“Come on Connor, a lady as gorgeous as she is, well it was my honor.” Markus grins and kisses your hand softly, making you blush, which in turn makes Connor rise from his chair.

“Can I speak with you, Markus?”

“Now? I was hoping to spend some time with Y/N.”

“Now.” Connor demanded.

“Well, when you put it like that, sure. I’ll see you later Y/N.” Markus says with a wink, as he follows Connor to a vacant hallway out of your line of sight. Without hesitation Connor grabs Markus by his collar and pushes him against the wall, his eyes enraged.

“What the hell are you doing?” He growled.

“Easy Connor. Just spending time with one of your dear friends, what’s the problem?” Markus smiled, unphased by the aggressive hold Connor had on him.

“I don’t want you to spend time with her like that. Touching her and kissing her hand. You don’t get to do that.” Connor asserted.

“And why’s that?”

“Because…because…oh. Oh, I see.” Connor said releasing his hold on Markus’ collar. Markus patted the wrinkles out of his top and shook his head.

“Took you long enough, although I will say it didn’t take much to make you jealous.”

“Jealous,” Connor repeated. He hated the word, but Markus was right. A fire had ignited in him as he watched Markus make you giggle, get to touch you even slightly, get to take you out for lunch. Such small things but he treasured them more than he knew.

“The tactic you used was very clever. I’m sorry for roughing you up.” Connor said with embarrassment.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad it worked. She is a very lovely girl Connor; I can see why you have such a crush.” Markus said patting his friend’s arm.

“So what do I do now?” Connor asked, his tone dripping with desperation.

“Well, there's plenty of perfectly good desks in here..." Markus grinned and then put his hands up when Connor shot daggers his way.

"Okay, okay, my bad. Start with dinner."

#detroid become human #connor detroit become human #connor dbh #connor fanfiction #connor x reader #dbh connor fluff #connor fanfic #rk800 #rk800 x reader #dbh #connor/reader #connor #fanfic

[nkakeru]

☆。*。☆。𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨

; 🥛 — mahito x reader | scenario

; 🍪 — angst

; 🧾 — contains: dark content, reader is kidnapped, poisoning, implied death, stockholm syndrome, reader insert, ooc!mahito (?), things i created myself that probably are not possible in the jjk universe, bad writing

one, two, melatonin is coming for you

three, four, won’t you lock the door?

You had lost any sense of time after the second week. And, somehow, not counting made you feel like time went on slower.

But the sense of time was not the only thing you’re losing.

Hope.

When you first woke up in that dark, stinky, room, locked in a cage, you didn’t let the blue-haired man scare you. Your friends would come to save you soon.

But days passed and they didn’t come. You started to believe when the curse told you they didn’t care about you, that they wouldn’t waste their precious time saving you.

Sanity.

If they wouldn’t come to save you, you would have to take matters into your own hands.

five, six, i’m done with this

You learned his name was Mahito a little before losing the count of the days. This information made your hade spin with ideas. You would make him trust you, make him believe he was able to break you.

And maybe, deep down, he did change something inside you.

seven, eight, it’s getting late, so close your eyes, sleep for days

There were no windows in the room. But sometimes Mahito would come to you and talk about his day, making you think it was probably night. Today was no different.

“Mahito-san,” you asked when he finished talking about having won a card game against another curse “why didn’t you kill me?”

He smiled at you with his eyes closed before laughing softly.

“Does my presence bother you so much you rather be dead?”

Instead of answering, you kept your gaze on him, showing no feelings. He had to believe he had broken you, that there was no will to escape.

But sadly, he wasn’t as easy to manipulate as you wished and stayed silent instead of giving you a serious answer.

“If you are going to kill me, can I at least have one last meal?”

“What would be this meal?”

“My mom used to make me cookies before she passed, I would like to make myself some, one last time”

Again, he didn’t answer you. Alternately, he walked away laughing.

hush, little baby, drink your spoiled milk

After that, Mahito acted like the last meal talk never happened, he kept coming to see you and talking about unimportant things. You’re lonely, and definitely sick from the lack of food and sunlight, so you started talking to him too - as if he was a friend and not a kidnapper.

Because of that, you noticed the way he looked at you. Months had passed since your last contact with society, but you knew that look. Something in his twisted mind had made him desire you, and maybe you were only still alive because he hoped you’d gradually develop a Stockholm syndrome and fall for him as well.

Realizing this was like a light at the end of the tunnel, you started changing your initial plan. Now, you would die or kill him, both endings seeming satisfactory since at least things would change.

You started telling him stories of your past, mixing truths and lies, and hoping it would poison his mind. You talked about your mom and how great she was at baking, how milk and cookies were your comfort food growing up. You create school crushes and boyfriends who mistreated you, and, as if to confirm your assumptions, Mahito sometimes would respond to this with:

“Even a curse like me knows that’s not how you treat someone you care about.”

Yeah, you thought, but you are not supposed to kidnap people either.

i’m fucking crazy, need my prescription filled

Day by day, Mahito’s visits became more frequent. He would go see you twice a day and started bringing you presents, like different sweets and plushies. Even brought you a more comfortable pillow and a blanket in your favorite color.

His presence didn’t bother you as much anymore and the scaping plan had almost slipped your mind. Until one day he came to your cage with a blindfold. All he said before putting it on you was:

“Do you miss the sun?”

He handcuffed one of your hands on his and, after a few minutes walking blindfold, he took you to a beach.

do you like my cookies? they’re made just for you

After that, he started taking you out of the cage more often. Normally he would take you to that same spot on a desert beach, but he also took you to an apartment so you could shower. A few days passed before you started staying only in the apartment.

The property was bewitched, you could feel it in your bones. The days were always sunny, but never too hot, and even if you could see a big city scenario through the windows, there was no noise or people walking on the street. Also, there were no doors - not even in the bathroom. You weren’t even sure which type of power he used to get inside.

But you acted as if you didn’t care. As if escaping was no longer in your mind, as if you were happy living there with him, cleaning and cooking.

One day, unknowingly, Mahito opened his own grave.

“When are you going to make those cookies you talked about? The ones from your childhood”

You said you didn’t have all the required ingredients in the house and he offered to go get them for you. You made a list and gave it to him, who left in the same minute.

While he was out, you started preparing what would be his last meal. It was convenient that he didn’t know your mom was a powerful sorcerer who manage to put her jujutsu in food, which could be used for good or for bad.

When he came back with a box of milk, chopped walnuts, and chocolate chips, you had already poisoned the dough.

He watched while you finished and put them in the woven. Now, the hardest part was not to seem anxious while the cookies were getting ready.

“You talked so much about these cookies you gave me high expectations.” He laughed.

“I hope you like them.”

a little bit of sugar, but lots of poison, too

When the cookies were ready, you told Mahito you should wait for them to cool down a little and, after a few minutes, you severed two cups of milk and got a cookie for yourself and one for him. You didn’t wait for him, giving your cookie a bit and humming. Mahito didn’t bite his, putting the whole cookie in his mouth instead. His eyes shined, liking it and quickly grasping another one.

He was going for his third cookie when you finished your first, slowly drinking a big sip of your milk while watching him devour two more.

“Hey” you called him “try this,” you said, getting your second and dipping it in the milk before biting it. You closed your eyes, acting as if everything was perfectly normal.

Mahito did as you told him, again putting the whole cook in his month. He had another in his hands already, when his gaze changed. He started feeling that something was wrong but it was already too late. He swallowed what he had in his mouth, a confused look on his face. He only realized what was going on when he spit blood on the table. His vision was blurred and he tried to get up, only to realize his legs weren’t functioning anymore.

“I loved you” he said, looking at you from the ground. The apartment started dissolving as he died, revealing that you actually never left the sewer where he kept you at first.

“The sad part is that I thought I could love you too” you said before running away from him, trying to guess how to get out of there.

#jjk x reader #mahito x reader #mahito jjk #jjk fic #jjk scenario #; milk and cookies #xreader #angst #dark content

[theonewiththefanfics]

Tomato - Tomato (one-shot)

Synopsis: One is an international rock-star. The other is his loyal assistant. Both are complete morons in love. Also - she’s allergic to tomatoes, and it is important.

This started off as something completely else. hope you enjoy :D

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Assistant!Reader

Genre: fluff, minor angst

Warnings: two idiots pining for one another, swearing, mentions of allergies and EpiPens

Word count: 3492

Being an assistant to someone famous wasn’t all glamourous parties and wild nights out with celebrities. It was scheduling last minute flights and not sleeping for three days straight as you packed a million bags and then repacked because their stylist sent you knew pieces and the old ones no longer fit the aesthetic of the week.           It was also making sure that they were up by six AM with a hot coffee at their bedside ready to help them wake up as you lay out a detailed plan of the day down to the minute, while you yourself basically only had a two-hour nap because you had to finish off 568 handwritten notes to be sent out to each of the contacts in their phone. Or at least that’s what Y/N’s life was like being the personal assistant to none other than the modern-day prince of rock Harry Styles.            Said rockstar was actually still asleep when Y/N entered his room, ripping open the curtains and letting in the rising sun. He groaned, pulling up the bedsheets that’d ridden down his form during the night. “Not that I don’t like seeing your gorgeous face in the mornings….” he mumbled into the covers. “But I don’t like seeing your face in the mornings when they start at six bloody AM.”           Y/N snorted and rolled her eyes, rubbing them in an attempt to get rid of the sleep that still lingered in her own body. “You were the one that said you’re fine with seeing Lambert at eight for a fitting.”           “When did I say that?” Harry scoffed, only the top of his messy bedhead seen from the cocoon he’d built around himself.           “Would you like me to pull up the text messages, the calendar or the e-mails?”           Even with her back turned as she rummaged through his closet for him to put on some clothes, she could sense the middle finger he threw at her, and she smiled.           Despite everything, despite the zero sleep and stress always coursing through her veins, Y/N loved working for him. He treated her as a friend, not just some lackey he paid to, but most importantly, comparatively to the other people she’d worked for in the same line of business – he treated her as a human.           If something went over the deadline, Harry didn’t scream or yell at her and tell Y/N how incompetent she was, instead he asked what kind of help or assistance she needed to get the job done, or maybe if she just needed some time off to gather herself and look at the problem with fresh eyes.           “I hate how organised you are,” Harry groaned, finally throwing the covers off.           “If I wasn’t, you’d be in a ditch somewhere.”           She heard him scoff and two feet plop against the hardwood floor as he made his way towards her. “Is that how little faith you have in me?”           “You don’t even know what day it is!”           “Who does in these times?”           Y/N shrugged her shoulders and handed him a pair of boxers, some loose jeans, and a flowery Hawaiian shirt. “Are you telling me I’m wrong though?”           She looked over to her side, a smirk playing on her lips while he squinted his green eyes at her. “No, but it doesn’t mean I like getting called out, especially this early in the morning.”

          With a roll of her eyes and a shove at his shoulder for him to move to the bathroom, Y/N handed him the clothes, moving downstairs to start making him some light breakfast and get herself a cold glass of water.           You see, she’d been working as his assistant for close to two years, and they’d grown not only as people around one another, challenging their beliefs and world views, but as friends too. And, well, Y/N would be lying if the emotions hadn’t evolved from platonic to falling in love. Not that she’d ever admit it. He was an international sensation, and she was the girl who got him vegetarian croissants at the airport.           She dragged a hand down her face as she clicked the stove on and took out a carton of eggs from the fridge. Y/N knew how he liked his omelette to the T, mostly because when she’d spent the first night of quarantine with him a year prior right as the pandemic had started, Harry had wanted to do something nice because she couldn’t go and see her family any more, so he’d gotten up at seven to make breakfast for both of them. The only problem was, he hadn’t asked if she had any allergies, so as he added bits of tomatoes, parsley, cheese and scallions, Harry hadn’t expected Y/N’s eyes to go wide at the first bite as she dropped the fork.           “Harry…” Her tone had been cautious. “What’s in this?”           He was sweating. Was his cooking really that bad? He just wanted to do something nice and there he was screwing everything up. “ ‘S just some of my favourite things. I’m sorry I didn’t ask, I just thought you’d like it.”            “I do, but this tastes like it has tomatoes in it.”           He nodded. “Yeah. It does.”           Gently she smiled at him and pushed the plate a bit further away. “Could you grab me a coat, and if you have any – an EpiPen?”           “An Epi – oh shit!” When the realisation hit him, Harry was jumping out of his seat, running to one of the cupboards and rummaging through in a panic all the while apologies flew non-stop from his mouth.           Y/N in the meantime had gathered her purse and mask, making a call to the nearest hospital to explain the situation to which they responded they’d be waiting for her arrival.           “I’m so sorry!” Harry ran up to her, a first-aid kit in his shaking hands. “Please don’t die! I didn’t want to kill you, I promise! I just wanted to make you some breakfast cause you do so much for me, and now you’re stuck here, and – oh god,” he cried. “I’m going to be prosecuted for killing my assistant.”           She didn’t mean to, but the snort came out of her nose either way. “Harry.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Please calm down. I’m not going to die.”           “You’re allergic!”           “Yes, I am, but I only had a small bite. The ER is just a precaution.” Y/N took his palms in hers and squeezed them. “Now take a deep breath with me…” They did so, holding it for five seconds and letting it out for eight. “And calm down a bit. I’ll go give myself the shot, and then I’ll drive to the hospital.”           “Let me,” Harry begged. “Please, let me at least drive you to the emergency room. God, I almost killed you with an omelette, it’s the least I can do. I – I could also help you with the shot, I won’t hit an artery, I promise -”           “Harry, you’re barely coherent. Not to say anything, but you’d have a bigger chance of killing me in a car crash, than from that tomato.” Y/N gave him a smile. “I’m gonna be fine.”           With that, she left him to venture into the bathroom and did the unpleasant part of stabbing herself in the thigh to alleviate her body from the allergy symptoms. She sat there for around five minutes before she felt that the swelling of her tongue and itching in her throat was starting to subside, which meant the epinephrine was working.           “Okay,” she huffed, taking her purse from the couch where Harry had been sitting, hugging the accessory. “I’ll be back in probably around two hours. Do we need anything from the store?”           He shook his head. “Just come back home, please.”           Y/N would never admit how her heart thundered in her chest when Harry said to come back ‘home’. “I will.” She promised. “Don’t you worry. You’re not getting rid of me that easy, Styles. The money’s too good.” She winked at him and then left Harry pouting on the couch, but she couldn’t get through the door, before he jumped up, yelling, “wait! Do I need to get rid of every tomato in the house?”           “No,” she laughed. “I’m good to be around them. Even touch them. ‘S just my insides that don’t agree with it when they meet.”           “Okay.” He nodded, hands on his hips. “Alright. I’ll uh – I’ll be waiting. I’ll make you something else.”           “There’s no need for that, Harry.”           His eyes widened at her words. “I swear I’m not trying to murder you!”           “Oh my god,” she muttered shaking her head. “Just – just relax. Okay. I’ll send you hourly updates.”           He bit his lip. “Make it every ten minutes.”           “Harry –,”           “Please?” The way he was giving her puppy dog eyes melted her heart.           With an eye-roll, Y/N waved at him and promised to update her boss at every possible moment and confirm that he hadn’t, in fact, been the reason for her demise. Well, he was the reason for the demise of her low standards in men, having taken them and thrown them up to the Moon, but unless her feelings were miraculously requited or if one of the Marvel characters, she was obsessed with came to life, she’d have to stick to what was available. And in her mind, that wasn’t Harry.           “What are you thinking about?” His voice startled Y/N out of the memory, and she shook her head, adding salt and pepper to the beaten eggs.           She shrugged. “Just about that time a year ago where you secretly tried to off me because you were too nice to say you didn’t wanna quarantine together.”           The groan he let out was of royal embarrassment, and it put a wide smile on her face, as she took one of the forsaken fruits and started to chop the red ball into small pieces.           “You’ll never let me live it down, are you?”           Y/N raised her eyebrow at him. “Your failed murder attempt?” She snorted. “Of course not! It’s like you don’t watch the crime shows and murder documentaries when I have them on. You really haven’t learned anything.”           Harry stuck his tongue out at her and moved to her side, dropping some chives into the mix as well. “Well given how it wasn’t a murder attempt, I wouldn’t consider it a fail.”           Her hip bumped his, and only then did Y/N really give him a once-over. As always, he looked amazing in whatever was on his body, but what made him even cuter in her eyes was the sleepiness still lingering in him.           Harry’s movements were a little bit sluggish, eyes half-closed and small sighs passing his lips as he sipped onto the coffee she’d come to his place with. The shirt sat loosely on his body, the first two buttons left open while he’d tucked the bottom of it into the jeans, having found a Gucci belt and cinched it around his waist, giving it a more eighties look rather than the sixties vibe he usually had with his suits.           The brown hair was still messy and dishevelled, and Y/N could barely, just barely restrain herself from running her fingers through it, but what she didn’t know Harry was struggling just as much.           All he wanted to do was pull out the bottom lip Y/N had gotten in between her teeth and kiss her senseless, to have her fingers dig into his arms and leave crescent shaped imprints on his skin.           “So, uh…” He had to start a conversation otherwise his mouth would find itself on Y/N’s mouth in a second. “What’s Lambert got in his schedule? How many outfits is he thinking?”           “Two or three, I think,” she said, pouring the mixture on the pan and letting the slow sizzle erupt around them. “He’s got this one suit which I think you’ll really like – all leather, but it needs to be altered.”           Harry hummed, and for a second both of them relished in the domestic feel of it all. They’d had many moments like it before, especially during the spring and summer seasons of 2020, and Y/N couldn’t help but relish in her memories at them.           “Harry?” It was like her voice snapped him out from a trance. “Could you pass me a plate please?’           “Uh, yeah,” he stammered for a moment and then nodded, wordlessly going to a cupboard and taking out a white marbled plate. That single piece of kitchenware probably cost more than her life insurance, but it was definitely aesthetic if nothing else.           Silently Y/N plopped the omelette onto the plate, placing it on the kitchen counter and went to get him a fork, however when she turned around, he was facing her, chewing quite agressively on the inside of his cheek.           “You okay?” she asked, coming closer. “I can call Lambert, reschedule it for later. He wouldn’t be too happy about having to wake up and then – “           But Harry shook his head. “It’s not that.”           “Then what?”           He didn’t say anything. It was like he was trying to decipher the best course of action, and when he ultimately did, Y/N was pressed up against the counter, Harry’s forehead against hers with two ring-clad hands cupping her cheeks.           “Harry,” she breathed, out her lips brushing his making the air in her lungs hitch. “What are you doing?”           “Something I’ve been dying to do for a year now. If you let me that is.”           “I -,” The words were muddled up in her head. Of course, Y/N wanted him to kiss her, she wanted him to ravish every part of her body. The fantasies and dreams she’d had at night would be incriminating proof if her feelings were on trial, but despite it all, her brain was usually in charge and would overrule any decision made by her heart. “Harry, we can’t.” She whispered, voice breaking.           “I -,” Horror morphed onto his features as he took a step back. “Did I misread the signals? Did I do something you don’t wan –“           “No.” She grabbed onto his cheeks, trying to calm him down, his body practically melting into hers. “I do.” She didn’t need to explain what she meant. He understood. “So much it hurts me sometimes… but Harry, you’re my boss. My employer. It… it wouldn’t be right.”           “Why? How can it not be right, when it feels like the rightest thing in the world?”           “Because, Harry,” she huffed. “You’re my boss. And what’s worse – I love working for you!”           That made both of them laugh, the tone of her voice as if she was more annoyed than anything else. “ ‘Nd why’s that bad?” He nudged her nose with his. “I’d hope my employees like working with me. What kind of a person would I be if I thrived on them being miserable?”           “Because if I didn’t, quitting would be easy.” She raised her eyebrow at him. “And if I quit there’d be nothing stopping us from dating.”           Harry bit his lip, finger trailing along her cheekbone. “There’s nothing stopping us now either. There is no clause in your contract that says you can’t date people who you work for or with. Sarah’s with Mitch, and they’re the happiest they’ve ever been. They’re even having a baby…”           Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile. “I know. But that’s different. They’re on equal levels. You and I, however… I don’t want people to think I got my job because I slept with you, or some shit. It’s bad enough some already do so.”           His brows furrowed, and Y/N saw how his jaw clenched. “Who?”           “Strangers.” She shrugged. “I know you don’t look at comments like that online, but I see them. My DMs are filled with that. Gossip magazines. The point is – there are already unsubstantiated rumours about us. This would give them the confirmation they’d need.”           “How can it confirm something that’s not true?”           “There are still people who believe vaccines cause autism. Even when their ‘proof’ has been discredited and shown to be just complete bullshit, most don’t like to admit they’re wrong, so they’ll look for whatever tells them they’re right.”           Harry huffed throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. “So, where does that leave us? In love, but without being able to do anything about it? Because I can’t.” He shook his head. “I won’t be able to just pass you by without kissing you, or not pull you into the bed when you wake me up, or press you against the wall and not have my head between these two gorgeous legs.”           Y/N groaned slapping his chest and dropping her forehead against his peck. “That is so unfair. Why do you have to tease me like that!”           “Oh, sweetheart.” The rumble was deep and shot a wave of heat straight to her core. “This is no teasing.” The smirk on his face when she looked up at him was shit-eating. “Trust me, if I was teasing, you’d be begging for me.”           She’d imagined him between her thighs more times than it was appropriate considering he was her boss, but hot damn, did it feel amazing when his lips crashed onto hers, and she let him. In her dreams, his lips hadn’t been just pressed to her mouth but other places which were more south, but it was still one of the best feelings in the world.           The kiss left them both breathless, and grinning and satisfied, yet begging for more, teeth nipping at the soft flesh.           “I’ll put out an official statement, if you want,” Harry muttered against her mouth, unable to stop pecking her lips now that’d he’d gotten a taste. “But please, please, please… for both our sanities go out on a date with me.”           It seemed like Y/N was the one contemplating the best plan of action now when her brows furrowed and she looked up at him, pressing and unpressing her lips, as the swelling from the kiss grew. “Did you by any chance have a piece of that omelette already?” She had a suspicion it wasn’t just from the kiss.           His eyes widened, and then his head dropped to her shoulder. “Not again!”           Y/N rolled her eyes lifting his face by the chin so he would look at her. “How about EpiPen first?”           “Fair enough,” Harry grumbled unlatching himself from her and going for his keys and wallet, already preparing for the short drive they’d have to take. “But then a date?”           She raised her eyebrow, taking out the box Harry now kept under the sink with at least three EpiPen’s for emergencies. “In a hospital?”           “We could be going dumpster diving for all I care, and I’d count it as a date.”           Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to do so much better than that; you’ve almost put me in anaphylactic shock twice. Now come on.” She motioned with her head towards the bathroom. “Stab me and take me to the ER.”           “Fucking tomatoes,” Harry grumbled, taking her by the hand and not letting it go even for the short walk.           “Tomato-tomato, you’re the one that kissed me.”           “That I don’t regret.”           Y/N smiled, turning towards him, and taking him by the nape of his neck pulled Harry down for one more kiss, groaning at the feeling of his tongue dancing against hers.           “Y/N!” He pulled back with a gasp, shock on his face.           She just shrugged her shoulders. “We’re already going to see the doctors anyway.”           Harry pushed her shoulder and made her sit down onto the toilet. “Take your pants off before my kisses kill you.”           “Yes, daddy.” Y/N wiggled her eyebrows as Harry moaned, squeezing her calf.            His eyes were dark as he looked up at her. “Next time this happens, you’ll be begging me.”           Her wicked smile was so full of happiness he couldn’t help the one that grew on his face. “I’ll be keeping you to it. Now, dear sir.” She handed him the EpiPen. “Hit me with your best shot.”           And although it’d been now two times in their lives where Harry trying to do something good and make the other feel just as good had done pretty much the opposite, when they got to the emergency room, their smiles could be felt even under their masks           Harry watched with blushing cheeks as Y/N explained the situation to the nurse, especially when one of them threw him an unsavoury glance, eyebrow raised high as if saying ‘again? One time wasn’t enough?’.           “No more tomatoes.” He promised. “And also - it wasn’t on purpose!”           Y/N squeezed his palm, chuckling. She may not be able to give a shot at eating a tomato, but she sure as hell was going to give Harry one. After all, she had almost died for the man. Twice.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Harry Styles tags: @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​ @raylovessarcasm @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @harryhub​

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

A/N: I’m at work and I wanted to write a bit for my book, but hahahahahahaha I can’t stop procrastinating. Also, this was something comepletely else centered around Christmas, then New Year and the Valentines, but I just couldn’t and it morphed into this. Maybe this Holiday season when it rolls around I’ll post it :D

P.S. if anyone’s had a septoplasty (repositioning of the septum) - how was it? how painful is it? kinda starting my journey towards it cause apparently I can’t breathe out of my left nostril, but I’m kinda scared ngl. I’ve read some horror stories about having holes and pieces of the cartilage fall out afterwards :/// 

P.S.S. what did ya think? my tags are always open, just drop a message if you wanna be added :)

P.S.S.S please don’t plagiarise or repost my work on other platforms (wattpad, AO3 etc)

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles x assistant!reader #harry styles au #fanfic #fanfics #one direction #one direction imagine #1d fan fiction #1d

[helloalycia]

my patient’s neighbour [five] // wanda maximoff

summary: Wanda decides to ruin your chance at moving on, which doesn't go down well with you.

warning/s: none

author's note: jealous!wanda is one of my favourite wanda’s 👀 also your comments/feedback always make my day so thank you so much! ♥️

part one | part two | part three | part four | part six | part seven | masterlist | wattpad

Meeting Anna's granddaughter wasn't something I'd ever imagined, since Anna rarely mentioned her unless it was to recall a memory that eventually made her quiet for the rest of the day or to make a snide remark out of annoyance. So, to have her here in front of us was definitely... new.

"What are you doing here?" Anna asked with disbelief.

Sasha blinked awkwardly. "I, er, got a call from the nurse. She said you'd hurt your back, so I thought I'd check in." Her gaze fell to Wanda and I. "I see you've got company."

"Sorry, we'll give you a moment," Wanda blurted, before looking to Anna reassuringly.

I did the same before eyeing Sasha suspiciously then following after Wanda into the hall. When the door closed behind us, I wondered what exactly would happen in there. To say I was overprotective of Anna was an understatement.

Taking a seat on the chairs outside her room, I became acutely aware of how stupid I looked in my trainers, Mickey Mouse pyjamas and raincoat. Especially when Wanda sat beside me, knee brushing mine.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" she asked suddenly, earning my attention.

I shook my head, crossing my arms and leaning back into my seat. "No, thank you, I'm good."

She hummed in acknowledgement but said nothing else. The awkwardness that lingered between us was overpowering, but nowhere near as overpowering as the scent of Wanda's shampoo that was drifting up my nose from how close she was sat to me. I tightened my crossed arms, trying to think of something else. Then I remembered what had happened in Anna's room before Sasha interrupted.

"What were you and Anna arguing about?" I asked, glancing at the witch.

She winced, but didn't look my way. "Nothing. Just neighbour stuff."

I smiled bitterly. So, she didn't want to share. Fine. No big deal. Who was I but her neighbour's carer anyway?

After ten minutes of waiting, we decided to head back inside to make sure Anna was okay. What we saw was Anna and Sasha crying happy tears as the latter sat at her bedside, clutching her hand.

"Damn, sorry," I apologised for Wanda and I, realising we'd interrupted a special moment. "We can–"

"No, we're done," Sasha said, wiping away her tears with embarrassment. "Sorry about that."

"Devushki (girls), this is my granddaughter, Sasha," Anna introduced, and I'd never seen her look happier.

As Sasha stood up and rounded the bed to approach us, I realised she seemed familiar because of the photographs I'd seen around Anna's apartment.

"It's nice to finally meet the two people who have been taking care of my grandmother," Sasha said, before putting out her hand.

I bit back from retorting with something along the lines of 'we wouldn't have to if you had cared for her yourself', and instead shook her hand. Wanda glanced at me, probably sensing the negative thoughts in my mind with her powers, but she said nothing as she smiled politely at Sasha and shook her hand.

"It's nice to meet you, too," Wanda spoke, realising I wouldn't. "Anna talks a lot about you. I was hoping we would eventually meet."

Sasha sighed regretfully, smile fading. "Yes... well, I haven't been around as much as I should have been. I know that now."

"Took you long enough," I muttered under my breath, it slipping out without me realising.

Wanda shoved me in the arm in response and I frowned, rubbing the sore spot.

"You're right," Sasha said, looking to me apologetically. "But I'm here now. And getting that call earlier... it made me realise that I've treated Anna horribly. That's why I've invited her to live with me. To make up for lost time."

Certainly not expecting that, my jaw dropped with surprise. "What?"

Sasha sat back down beside Anna's beside and I exchanged startled looks with Wanda before looking to the older woman in question.

"No offence," I started, glancing at Sasha, before focusing on Anna again, "but are you sure this is the right move? It's not too sudden?"

Anna shook her head and grabbed Sasha's hand. "She wants me to be around her family. And I want it too, Y/N. I miss them."

I nodded, but chewed on the inside of my mouth anxiously. It's not that I didn't trust Sasha (okay, maybe it was a little), but I was scared for Anna. I didn't want her to get heartbroken all over again.

Be supportive, Wanda's voice filled my mind, and I looked to her to see her eyes fading from red to green.

I clenched my jaw. Stay out of my head.

With a bright smile, she ignored me and looked between the grandmother and granddaughter duo.

"I think that's wonderful, Anna," she said kindly. "I mean, of course I'm going to miss having you as a neighbour, but this is all you've wanted. I'm thrilled for you. And so is Y/N."

When she looked to me for confirmation, I felt a familiar anger in the pit of my stomach, only reserved for Wanda Maximoff. But this wasn't about us, this was about Anna.

"I am," I agreed, eyes flickering to Anna. "It sounds great."

"You can both visit whenever you want," Sasha said, nodding enthusiastically. "Anna loves you both so dearly."

"You can't get rid of us even if you tried," Wanda joked, flashing Anna a teasing smile.

Anna chuckled. "I knew you would both understand."

I smiled halfheartedly, glad that everything was working out for Anna but knowing I would miss caring for her greatly.

"We should leave you to rest," I said with finality.

"Thank you," Anna replied, and by the way she looked at me, I knew she was thanking me for a lot more.

"Get well soon," I told her in my 'nurse' voice that she hated, a playful smile on my lips. "I'll check on you tomorrow."

Anna nodded. "Tomorrow."

After saying an awkward goodbye to Sasha, I left the room and headed for the lift down the hall, not bothering to wait for Wanda. Thankfully, she must have known I didn't want to speak to her, as she didn't speed after me.

—

Since Anna moved in with her granddaughter, the last time I saw Wanda was at the hospital. Two more months passed and I had no need to bump into her at Anna's apartment since Anna didn't live there anymore. And the one time I visited Anna since she moved in to Sasha's house, Wanda wasn't present.

I guess it made it a lot easier to attempt to get over her. Six months since she broke up with me was long enough to move on, I think. I'd been on a few dates, none really going anywhere until Natasha decided to set me up with someone a few weeks ago.

It was a family friend of her Avenger's teammate, Clint Barton, and though it was a blind date, it actually worked out well. The woman was called Elise and she was very sweet and charming on our first date, having a similar sense of humour to mine and a killer smile. It was actually the first time since Wanda left that things felt like they were falling into place. We went on a few more dates, deciding not to rush things, and I found myself looking forward to going out with her.

It was a few weeks into our dating relationship when Natasha gave me a call, inviting me as her plus-one to Clint and his wife's vow renewal. They were having a whole celebration at their homestead in Missouri and Natasha figured I'd enjoy it, able to take a weekend break and join her at the lavish hotel she'd be staying in. And also because Elise would be there.

"Oh?" I said with surprise. "Elise didn't mention anything."

"She wanted to," Natasha said with amusement, "but she didn't want to bring it up in case you didn't want to go."

I quirked a brow, despite her being unable to see me. "And why wouldn't I want to go?"

Natasha hesitated. "'Cause Wanda will be there...?"

A sigh escaped my lips as I massaged my forehead. Elise knew about Wanda because it came up when she asked how Natasha and I became friends. She was actually really chill about the whole thing, which I appreciated, but I could only imagine how she must have felt knowing that Wanda would be at the vow renewal.

"You should still come," Natasha encouraged when I didn't say anything. "I already spoke to Wanda and she said she won't cause a scene or anything."

"I doubt that she would," I mumbled.

"She just wants you to be happy," Natasha finished. "So, be happy as my plus-one and get a cute date in with your girlfriend whilst you're there."

I tried to stifle the smile on my lips. "Elise isn't my girlfriend."

"Yet," Natasha added knowingly.

Rolling my eyes, I said, "Look, send me the details and I'll be happy to be your plus-one."

"Yes!" she exclaimed, and I could just imagine her fist-pumping like an idiot. "I'll see you then, Y/N."

"Goodbye," I told her, though a smile of amusement was playing on my lips.

After that call with Natasha, I didn't hesitate to give Elise a call, hoping I wasn't bothering her whilst she was at work.

"Hello?"

"Hey," I greeted, smiling to myself. "Is this a bad time?"

"Well, luckily for you, I'm actually just starting my lunch break," she said in a joking manner. "What's up?"

I scratched my head uncertainly. "Well, Natasha just called and invited me as her plus-one to Clint's vow renewal. She said you would be there, too, obviously, but I just wanted to check in and see if it was okay that I went."

I left out the part about her not telling me about it, but she seemed to pick up on it anyway as she breathed out slowly.

"I just don't want to step on your toes," I quickly added, before chewing on my lip.

"You could never," she said reassuringly. "I actually wanted to ask you to be my date, but I thought it may be too soon. Y'know, a vow renewal when it's only what, the sixth date in?"

"It's not too soon," I said, before adding, "I can just come as Natasha's friend and we don't have to make it a date."

"There's also the fact that your ex will be there," Elise added, and I frowned at the mention of Wanda. "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"It's been six months," I told her with certainty. "I'm as comfortable as can be."

She paused. "If you think you'll be okay, then I'd love to see you there, Y/N."

"I know I'll be okay," I said promisingly. "And I'd like to go and maybe see you, too."

She laughed quietly and it made me smile. "In that case, I guess I'll see you there."

"It'll be fun," I said knowingly.

"It will," she agreed. "And now I can't wait."

It was my turn laugh. "Me either."

And fun it was... along with many other words.

The day of the vow renewal came by quickly enough and as promised, I went with Natasha as her plus-one. She made it as enjoyable as she could for me which I appreciated, with the two of us getting first-class tickets which Natasha was happy to pay for, and checking in to a beautiful hotel for the weekend. And that was just the accommodation.

The actual vow renewal was a stunning affair, as Clint and his wife, Laura, had gone all out with decorating the homestead and it's fields in a traditional, romantic way. A flower arch stood front and centre, with rows of seats set out for guests. Bouquets lined the outside and lights were strung above and all around the trees which I could only imagine would look stunning once the sun set.

"They really went all out," Natasha said, impressed as she took in the scene before us.

I hummed in agreement. "It's beautiful." I glanced at her adding, "Bet you wish you brought an actual date now."

Natasha smirked knowingly. "What's to say this isn't one? This could all be a plan to steal you away from Elise."

"Because that makes sense," I played along with amusement. "The woman who set me up with her best friend's family friend is trying to steal me away from said family friend. Makes complete sense."

"True," she said with a shrug, walking forward. I followed her as she continued, "If I was trying to make a move, you wouldn't see it coming."

I tried not to laugh. "Sure, Natasha."

"Trained assassin, expert in espionage, master of lying and hiding in plain sight," she listed off her skills one by one on her fingers. Shooting me a knowing smile, she repeated, "You wouldn't see it coming."

I rolled my eyes playfully and the two of us made the rounds, myself reacquainting with the other Avengers whom I hadn't seen since, well, since Wanda and I were together. It was a little awkward, since I was never really close with them and vice versa, but they were polite and kind and made me feel comfortable (probably because of Natasha, which gave me yet another reason to be grateful to the redhead).

Eventually, it got to a point where Wanda was the next person to say hello to and I truly thought six months would be enough to get over her; oh, how sorely mistaken I was.

She was talking to Sam Wilson, the two talking about something or the other that was clearly entertaining enough to warrant a laugh from Wanda. As we approached them, the sound of her laugh taunted me, melodic and dancing around my ears like a terrible reminder of what I couldn't have.

They spotted Natasha and I soon enough, their conversation ceasing and Wanda's laughter silencing as her eyes met mine. I tried not to let her effect me, but it became increasingly different when I noticed how beautiful she looked today, wearing a maroon-coloured dress and wearing her brown-red hair down in curls. Of course, all of that didn't compliment the giant scar on her forehead.

"Y/N, it's so good to see you!" Sam exclaimed, trying to prevent an awkwardness from occurring. "How have you been?"

I smiled his way. "I'm good, Sam. You?"

We talked for a little while, catching up, before Natasha decided to drag Sam away for a stupid, fake reason that was clearly said on purpose. Knowing I couldn't exactly stop her, I let her get away with it, figuring I'd have to face Wanda at some point.

"You look good," she spoke first, making me push a stand of my hair behind my ear to give my hands something to do.

"Thanks," I mumbled, before clearing my throat and meeting her gaze. "So do you. That's, er, that's always been your colour."

She smiled in response and I cursed inwardly, wondering why the hell I said that.

"You sound like you've been doing well," she said, referring to the conversation I had with Sam.

I nodded. "Yeah, I have."

A silence filled the air that none of us knew how to fill. I stared at my shoes so hard that I'm surprised a hole didn't form. Wanda hugged herself, unsure whether to speak or not.

"What happened to your head?" I finally thought of something, nodding to the scar.

She subconsciously reached up to touch it, though she didn't seem affected by it. "Oh, nothing. Just happened in a recent mission."

I nodded uncomfortably, never responding well to when she got injured. But she knew that.

"So, Nat said you've got a date," Wanda said, and the way she said it made me think that maybe she'd been wanting to mention it for a while. "Elise, right?"

I swallowed. "Yeah. She's just helping the Bartons out with some stuff then I'll be seeing her after."

Wanda nodded, eyes flickering between me and the floor. "That's nice. So, is it new?"

God, this was awkward.

"Kind of, yeah," I answered, not even sure why. "It's not, like, exclusive, but it's nice to move on, y'know?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh, so you're moving on?"

I pressed my lips together firmly. She was watching me curiously, green eyes bright with intrigue.

"I'd hope so," I answered, cocking my head to the side and watching her. "It's been six months."

She nodded, looking down. "Yeah, okay... so you're not in love with her?"

I clenched my jaw. "Is that really any of your business, Wanda?" She didn't answer, so I straightened up and avoided her eyes. "I should go. Ceremony is going to start soon."

Walking away, I left with tense shoulders and more nerves than when I headed in. She had no right to be jealous. She left me.

I found Elise just before everybody was told to take their seats for the ceremony. She apologised for missing me before, mentioning how she was helping Laura with getting ready, then proceeded to shower me in compliments which sent me into a blushing mess. After catching up, we took our seats for the ceremony and waited for it to begin.

Feeling someone's eyes on me, I glanced to my left and saw Wanda sat on the other set of rows, but she was staring right at me, lips pressed together thoughtfully. I rolled my eyes and looked ahead, ignoring her stares. As if sensing my mood, Elise grabbed ahold of my hand gently, glancing at me with a small smile as if to check that was okay. I squeezed her hand in response, letting her know it was.

Are her hands sweaty? Because they look sweaty.

I clenched my jaw and shot Wanda a glare, seeing the amused smile on her lips as she watched me.

Stay out of my head, I told her mentally, knowing she was listening, before rolling my eyes. And her hands are soft, thank you very much. Yours are the sweaty ones.

Though it was a terrible comeback, Wanda lost her smile and rolled her eyes before looking away. I tried not to let her annoying self bother me as Elise and I sat together, watching the ceremony.

It was short and sweet and though I didn't know Clint and Laura too well, it was easy to see they loved each other very much. Their vows were beautiful and it was adorable when their kids ran up to them at the end to give them a giant hug. I didn't know much, but I knew that I'd love to have a love like theirs some day.

After the ceremony came the reception, and there were loads of tables and chairs set up for guests, including a stage and dance floor next to it, perfect for a nice celebration after the vow renewal. It was all wonderful and I was excited, until I learnt that I was sat on the same table as Wanda.

Me, Elise, Natasha, Sam, Wanda and Bucky Barnes were all sat at the same table, which definitely didn't help with the awkwardness as Wanda eyed me from across the food. I tried to ignore her presence and focus on having a great time with Elise. Natasha promised that Wanda wouldn't make a scene, so I just had to believe her.

"So, what can I get you all to drink?" a waiter said, stopping by our table.

Everybody told him what they wanted and when he looked to me, I shrugged.

"Literally anything is fine with me," I said, before quickly adding, "Well, anything except gin. Not a fan of gin at all."

The waiter nodded and smiled politely. "I'm sure I can get you something good without gin."

I returned his smile as he nodded to us all once more before walking away to get our drinks.

"So, what did you think of the ceremony?" Elise asked, giving me her attention.

The two of us erupted into conversation, as did everyone else, and I was genuinely having a good time with her. The food was good, too, as were the drinks when they arrived. But the one problem was Wanda bloody Maximoff who couldn't keep her eyes away from me and was agitating me with her mere presence. I tried so hard to ignore her, but God forbid my eyes flickered over to her and she was already looking my way.

After a delicious meal and lovely conversation with the others, everybody began to get up and mingle with the other guests. I took this as my chance to steer away from Wanda and instead catch up with Natasha and hang out with Elise, who got on with everyone wonderfully. Sadly though, she had to keep nipping away to help the Bartons with some stuff for the party, but I didn't mind. I figured that was also part of the reason why she didn't invite me as her plus-one, so I didn't take it personally.

About an hour into the celebrations, I was mid-conversation with Natasha when we were interrupted by Wanda. I rolled my eyes as she looked to the redhead questioningly.

"Have you seen Clint around?" she asked. "Laura wants me to take everything from the gifts table inside and I need the key."

Natasha pursed her lips, shaking her head. As her eyes looked around for him, she said, "I'm not sure where he is..."

Before either of them could come to a conclusion, Elise appeared by my side with an apologetic smile and a drink in her hand.

"Hey," she greeted, squeezing my hand gently. "Sorry for ditching you before. I had to make sure the bar didn't run out of alcohol."

"It's all good," I told her with a small smile.

"I got you this gin cocktail to make up for it," she said sweetly, making me eye the drink like it was a bomb.

Wanda snorted suddenly, making me look to her with a glare. She tried to hide her laughter behind a smile as she looked the other way, though that didn't stop her from commenting in my mind with her obnoxious, intrusive powers.

Real good listener this one. Didn't you say you didn't like gin earlier?

I refrained from smacking her. Go away, Wanda.

"Thank you," I said to Elise gratefully, accepting the drink. "It looks great."

"Oh, I think I see Clint," Wanda said, before shooting us all a smile I'd love to punch. "Catch you later."

"See ya," Natasha said, as Elise waved and I rolled my eyes.

—

Dancing was fun and I liked to think I was good for an average person. So, when the DJ put on some fun music and encouraged guests to have a little dance, I immediately asked Elise to join me. Unfortunately, she wasn't exactly the most confident of dancers. She was adorably apologising as she held my hands, letting me take the lead.

"It's okay," I reassured her with a laugh. "You're doing fine."

But as she stepped on my foot for the millionth time, I could tell she thought she was doing anything but. I didn't mind though since it was amusing and cute all at the same time.

Be careful over there, Y/N. You may have been better off wearing some steel-toed shoes.

At the sound of Wanda's voice infiltrating my mind, I searched around me until I caught sight of the familiar green eyes over Elise's shoulder. She was stood to the side, entertained smile adorning her lips, as she watched Elise and I dance.

Why don't you piss off and mind your own business before I buy a pair of steel-toed shoes just to kick you with!

She didn't respond, so I focused my attention back on Elise and paused as something a little slower and more romantic played in the background. Offering an encouraging smile to Elise, I held out my hand which she accepted happily.

"Luckily, this one is pretty easy, so you might avoid bruising my feet," I joked to lighten the mood.

She flushed with embarrassment but let me pull her close as I took the lead. Subconsciously, my eyes wandered back to Wanda, who was now crossing her arms with annoyance and watching me with glowing red eyes. She had absolutely no right to be jealous. But I didn't care. It wasn't my business.

After sharing a lovely dance with Elise, the two of us took a seat at our empty table to have some water and talk. Of course, as we were chatting, our conversation was interrupted by none other than–

"Wanda," I got out through gritted teeth.

She grinned as she took a seat next to us, crossing her legs and resting her intertwined hands on her knees comfortably.

"I figured I'd introduce myself properly since we haven't really met before," Wanda explained, eyes dancing with mischief before she looked to Elise. "I'm Wanda Maximoff."

Elise smiled politely. "I'm Elise Fey. And I know who you are. A really impressive Avenger at that."

I narrowed my eyes as Wanda waved her hand dismissively. What was she playing at exactly?

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," she said bashfully. "But I guess, since you know who I am, it's only fair I return the favour. After all, you're here as Y/N's date, and as Y/N's friend, I thought it would be nice to get to know you."

"Friend," I repeated the word bitterly. "So, that's what we are now?"

Wanda chuckled, brushing off my words, before focusing on Elise. "So, what do you do, Elise?"

"I'm a veterinarian," she quipped proudly.

"How cute," Wanda said, tilting her head to the side and smiling. "How long have you been doing that?"

"Only a few years," Elise said, glancing at me with mild confusion. "It's a really rewarding job."

"I can imagine," Wanda said, before pulling a puzzled expression. "But wait, how does that work with you both? Since Y/N is allergic to pets an' all?"

Locking my jaw with agitation, I stared at Wanda's doe-eyed face. Elise looked to me with surprise.

"You are?" she asked. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I shook my head, smiling at her. "No, not really... I mean, well, rabbits. I'm allergic to rabbits. I didn't think it was a big deal."

"It kind of is," she said playfully. "What if I had treated a rabbit at work and then went on a date with you?"

I chuckled awkwardly. "Hmm, yeah, okay, maybe it's a little bit of a big deal."

She hummed disapprovingly before looking back to Wanda, who watched us both curiously.

"So, you work as a vet in New York?" she asked Elise, and I couldn't tell if she was actually interested or just trying to piss me off. When Elise nodded, she continued, "Are you from New York?"

"I'm originally from here actually," Elise said, motioning around us. "My family knew Laura's family before she married Clint. That's how I know the Bartons."

"Oh, so your parents still live here?" Wanda asked, leaning her head in the palm of her hand as she continued to question her.

"Yeah, not far from here actually," Elise answered with a smile.

Wanda nodded. "Cool... so how would that work, the whole visiting them thing? I mean, Y/N works a lot, right? And I assume you're close with your family. So, how does taking the time off to visit your parents work with you both when it's, like, 16 hours away?"

I squeezed my hands together to contain my frustration towards Wanda. Elise opened her mouth to respond, then closed it when she realised she didn't know how to answer. Her eyes darted to mine, asking for help, and I knew she was too polite to call Wanda out for her bullshit.

"We're still newly dating, Wanda," I answered through a fake smile. "We haven't even talked about meeting each other's parents, so it's not an issue right now."

"Right now," Wanda echoed my words, as if adding a double meaning. "But it will be in the future?"

I tried not to react harshly as I said, "That's not what I said."

Wanda nodded slowly, smirk tugging at her lips. Saying nothing more on the subject, she looked to Elise with dark eyes.

"It was lovely meeting you," she finished. "I'll see you around, I guess."

Elise nodded uncomfortably. "You, too, Wanda."

Shooting me a smile, she got up and left Elise and I sat there in mixed emotions. I was peeved at the Sokovian woman, not understanding why she had to try and ruin my one chance at moving on.

"I'm sorry about that," I said to Elise, a frown on my lips. "I don't know what the hell happened, but I definitely didn't expect it."

Elise chewed on her lower lip with thought. I waited patiently, wishing I knew what she was thinking. Finally, her blue eyes met mine apologetically.

"I don't think Wanda is quite over you," she said quietly. "And maybe you're not over her either, Y/N. At least not as much as you think you are."

I raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Elise, she's just being a dick to piss me off. It's not like that."

Elise winced. "I think it is. And honestly, you're a lovely person, but I just don't want to get involved in something like that right now."

I knitted my brows together with confusion. "What do you mean?"

She rested her hand on mine atop the table. "It's probably better we stay friends. Easier."

"Elise... c'mon. We just– we only just got to know each other." I frowned, feeling bad that she didn't want to see where this would go.

"For what it's worth, today was really fun," she said with a smile, trying to make light of the situation. "And every date we've shared has been fun, too. But I can't compete with the history you share with Wanda. And I don't want to."

I didn't know what to say, speechless, unable to understand why she was doing this. Taking that as her chance to leave, she leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek before standing up and letting go of my hand.

"I'm gonna leave early," she explained. "I hope you work stuff out for yourself."

I looked up to her, watching as she smiled once more before leaving me be. We'd only been dating a few weeks, I knew that, but I still felt saddened to know she didn't want to keep things going. And with the realisation that it was because of Wanda, my sadness was quickly replaced with anger. It always came back to her.

Scowl on my face, I stood up and knew one thing: Wanda Maximoff was dead meat.

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #elizabeth olsen #scarlet witch #marvel imagine #marvel #mcu #mcu imagine

[chubbology]

A Little Incentive

prompt: someone skinny grows chubby on their partner's good cooking and insistence they eat well

From the tempting smell of bacon and syrup that wafted into the room, I knew she’d outdone herself this morning.

“I made breakfast,” she stage-whispered to me. I grinned and turned over in bed, feigning sleepiness even though what I really wanted was to sit right up and take that plate from her hands.

Then my stomach growled and she laughed.

“The others are jealous,” she said. “But I told them they already had a habit of eating breakfast. You’re the one I need to hammer it into, by any means necessary.”

I took a deep breath and sat up in bed, pushing hair out of my face. “Consider me incentivized.” I took the heaping plate of breakfast food that she pushed at me, then the fork, and started into the chocolate chip pancakes, which were half soaked in syrup. Also on the plate lay bacon, eggs, hash browns, a muffin, and…

“French toast sticks, too?”

“As a reward for finishing all your exams! I know you like them.”

I thanked her. She poked my side and smiled fondly at me. “At the beginning of this semester, you would have said this was too much. I hope you know that it makes me the happiest girl in the world that you’re eating properly now.”

In response, I took a bite of extra crispy bacon and groaned in pleasure. As she got ready for the day, I considered her comment. Eating properly. She and I had different definitions of that, or used to at least.

My first two years of college were hard. Working part time, taking hard classes, dealing with an awful roommate. I barely took care of myself. I thought eating properly was eating at all. But then I met her and we hit it off, became friends and then more than friends, then moved in together with a couple more roommates just barely off campus. All the while, she made a point of showing me each day what eating properly meant to her: big meals cooked in the kitchenette or piled onto plates in the dining halls, snacks throughout the day, and never forgetting dessert. It kept her chubby, but she didn’t mind. I certainly didn’t.

“Bye!” I called out as she left for her last day of exams. She seemed confident about how hers had gone so far. Me? Not so much. I was never a good test taker.

I finished my plate down to the crumbs. I went and leisurely washed the dishes. I had pretty much nothing to do today. From the silence coming from the other bedrooms, I knew I had the apartment to myself, too. I could go outside, but it was too hot. And like hell I was going to go to the library again until I absolutely had to. There were always video games, but I stayed up late last night staring at screens, trying to forget my poor performance on my own last exam of the semester. I felt burnt out on everything.

I blinked in confusion when I realized I’d opened the fridge. I closed it. I literally just ate, so I don’t know why I’d…

The next three hours, I spent back in bed. Looking on my phone, resting my eyes, worrying about exam results, and tugging on my pajama pants. They were tight because I was so full. Eventually I decided to do something productive, starting with a shower. Maybe I could drive to a café or something, hang out there.

After showering and dressing (since I wasn’t exactly full anymore, I figured the tightness of my shorts was from bloating) I wandered into the kitchen for something to snack on. The fridge was always well stocked, and I eyed the rest of the batch of muffins in tupperware. I heard her voice in my mind: It makes me happy when you treat yourself.

What the hell. I took out the container, opened it, and took a bite out of the cinnamon raisin muffin. I closed my eyes. Big and sugary and so good. Better than the first one, maybe, because it had cooled off and I could better taste the flavor. I ate another one. And then I treated myself with a third before closing the lid again. There were still eight left.

I tried putting the container back in the fridge, but something stopped me. Go ahead, I heard her say. You don’t eat enough.

Slowly, I opened the container again and ate two more of the muffins. They were just so good. Then I put the container away, firmly slamming the fridge door and biting my lip. Truth was, she stopped telling me I don’t eat enough months ago.

I went back into the bathroom and took a good look at myself, which I’d avoided doing before. Truth was, my shorts were tight because, thanks to my partner’s cooking and our lingering stays at the dining halls and my new penchant for snacking, I had filled out more than a little. I’d put on my own chub. My shirt clung to my sides, which were soft and rounded (Is that why she poked me?), and upon closer inspection, I couldn’t deny my face looked tubbier, too.

I stood in quiet shock for a while, gently pressing my palm to the outward slump of my belly, its natural shape when I didn’t suck it in. (When did I start unconsciously sucking it in?) After a minute of dazedly contemplating my weight, I rummaged around for a dusty scale and stepped on it with bated breath.

My jaw fell open. My whole face, my neck, my ears flushed red, even though there was no one to see me there, finding out I was thirty seven pounds heavier than expected.

Forty pounds? Almost forty pounds? It was impossible. I didn’t look that much bigger.

But she had always said I was too skinny. So maybe twenty of those just filled me in? And then the rest was…extra? Forty pounds.

The surprise waned after a few more minutes of checking myself out in the mirror. I found I wasn’t as upset as society had led me to think I would be.

I did go to a café later that day. My newfound self-awareness didn’t kick back in until after I got a grande frappe and a scone. At my table, I thumbed the belly that now warmed a small part of my lap before eating and sipping my treats anyway.

My shorts felt so tight after a while, I just unbuttoned them and hoped no one would notice.

I spent a few hours there, reading and browsing my laptop and giving my soft belly secretive, intrigued touches before I started thinking about the six remaining muffins at the apartment. When I got back, I found I was in good company.

“I really did good on these,” she said, swallowing. “Want one?”

I took one, trying to hide my sheepishness. Did she guess it was me who ate the five that were missing? Or did she think it was our other roommates? Did she think…

“You want to get a late lunch?” “I think I need new clothes.”

We stared at each other. She chuckled, “Sorry, what?”

I flushed, tugging conspicuously on my shorts, not quite able to find the words. “Need to go shopping.” I’ve gained almost forty pounds. Forty pounds! My throat constricted.

“Oh.”

I looked up at her. “You’re a good cook,” I said, grinning. Still a little embarrassed.

But now she was a bit pink in the face, too. “Yeah, we should go shopping. Um. You aren’t mad. Are you? I just really like to cook and bake, and you really were too skinny and—”

“No, no! I’m not mad. I—”

Am I going to get fat? I wanted to ask her suddenly, and I felt very warm. I’m always eating these days. What if I outgrow the new clothes I buy? What then?

“I hope you know I think you look good,” she blurted. My thoughts ceased. “Really good.”

Suddenly, I was aware I’ve been sucking my belly in again. Would it be weird if I stopped? Just let it...swell out? I took in a deep breath, then let it all out, not sucking in this time. Her wide eyes fixated on my chubby lower belly.

“Thanks,” I said, trying not to be awkward. “To be honest, I only noticed recently that I look…different.”

Her eyes met mine and she looked very adoring. I’m sure my expression was identical. “Just a little. I was surprised how much your appetite grew.”

“Yeah. You still want to get lunch?” I asked. “Kinda feel like the dining hall.”

Kinda feel like going all out.

I won’t get fat.

Only a little, maybe. Not the end of the world.

“Okay,” she squeaked, as if hearing my thoughts. “Good idea. After all my stupid exams, it’s time to treat myself.”

I wholeheartedly agreed. So we went.

I loved how she looked shyly excited the whole time, as I overdid the second and third helpings. It seemed to make her overdo it some, too. Which spurred me to make it a competition, and there we sat together, overeating like a couple of chubby fiends.

“Still think you’re too skinny,” she taunted me, as we left, already discussing plans for dinner.

*

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

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#weight gain #fic #female feeder #nonbinary gainer