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grieferkisser · 8 months ago

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╰ㅤ₊ㅤ๋࣭ㅤreader x gr13f3r　 old friend　᠀

ꔛ word count: 834 or smth⠀╱⠀established friendship (?) 。

(¬_¬")⠀⠀⠀note ⠀╱⠀kms yall ive been soo unmotivated + school be kicking my ass,, plus not been on my best recently. request for anon hope u dislike it!!/J no but actually sorry this is shit,, I like making griefer a nervous mess that’s cute..anyways byee

When his dad had said, “We’re going to visit an old friend,” Griefer thought they’d end up at some elderly guy’s house, maybe some high school buddy his dad hadn’t seen in years. What he didn’t expect was to walk in and see… you.

He stood there, staring at you, frozen for a couple of seconds. And then he realized you were staring right back, which somehow made it worse. Awkward. But he couldn’t look away. Those eyes… you’d changed a lot since he’d last seen you. The quiet kid he remembered was gone, and in their place was someone he barely recognized but felt he’d known forever.

Your mom was still as sweet as ever, just like he remembered, chatting away with his dad like they’d never stopped. Even when you all sat down in the living room, they kept on, talking and laughing like they had endless stories to catch up on. Occasionally, your mom would ask Griefer a question or two, and he’d stammer out a reply, nerves on edge. And when his dad and your mom got up to make some tea, leaving the two of you alone in the room, the silence grew thick. It felt impossible to start a conversation—it was never this hard before.

Memories flooded back. You two had met when you were just six years old. He’d liked you right from the start; you were a good friend, someone he could count on to sit with at school, to meet up with after class. He remembered the way you’d climb trees together, daring each other to go higher. He remembered how you’d get quiet and a little shy whenever he brought his friends around. He remembered you almost getting expelled together on the first day of high school.

But what he remembered most was not wanting to let you go the day you left. You’d both cried, clinging to each other as you got in the car to leave town, and he could still feel the ache from that day, the hollow feeling that settled in his chest. You hadn’t told him why you were leaving, but he knew you were going to miss him just as much as he was going to miss you.

It had taken him a long time to get used to you being gone. And now here you were, right in front of him again. Taking a deep breath, he finally blurted out, “S0? H0W’VE Y0U BEEN..?”

The words tumbled out awkwardly, and he immediately cursed himself. Was that too casual? Should he have said something else? Something deeper? But his internal ranting stopped the moment you answered with a simple, “Fine.”

"Fine?" he thought. Was that a “fine!” with excitement, or just a flat “fine”? Damn, he was overthinking every little thing, and he hated it. But then the conversation found its rhythm, and soon, he was laughing with you again like no time had passed at all. He forgot how easy it was to talk to you, how natural it felt. He told you about his life—maybe not the whole Venomshank thing, and he left out the endless hours gaming—but he filled you in on enough to say he was “doing fine.” And he listened to your stories, dropping little jokes here and there just to make you laugh. God, he’d missed that laugh, the way it lifted at the edges, the way your smile always seemed to reach your eyes, making them light up.

Before he knew it, hours had passed. Time flew by with you, and he barely realized he had to leave until your mom was gently ushering everyone out the door. But, luck was on his side: she’d arranged to meet again next week.

Later, as he sat on the stairs that led to your house, you sat beside him, still smiling from the day. “IT’S B33N- UH, G00D T4LKING TO Y0U, Y’KN0W? W3 SH0ULD S33 EACH 0TH3R MOR3 0FT3N.”

You chuckled, giving him a playful look. “You missed me, huh? I missed you, too.” He felt his throat go dry at that, coughing to hide his embarrassment as he looked away.

“Y34H… 1 DID. M1SS3D MY FR13ND.”

...

When Griefer finally got back home after the long drive, he went straight to his room, kicked off his shoes, jacket, and shirt, and crashed onto his bed. He lay there, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the day in his mind. He’d had so much fun, laughed more than he had in months. He’d missed that—missed you. Maybe he’d forgotten just how much he’d liked you back then.

As his thoughts drifted into more dangerous, cheesy territory, he rolled over, burying his face in his pillow, kicking his feet a little like an embarrassed kid. The feeling was undeniable, and it made his heart beat a little faster. He missed you—he really missed you.

And he knew it, especially from the way his heart skipped a beat every time he pictured your smile.

#block tales #griefer blocktales #griefer x reader #roblox #block tales griefer #griefer roblox #x reader #griefer #blocktales x reader #⟡　　ars' writings　𓈒　 𓉸 #sorry this is awful

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tiny-space-platypus · 11 months ago

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Another Danny is a Jason look alike thing because it's in my head.

WARNING: mild destruction of vivisection ig

Jason after being told about both Dick's and Tim's interaction with his look alike felt weird. Like both his brothers, 2 bats believed this dude was him for a hot minute. He had to meet this guy at some point.

Jason's thoughts were interrupted by a blood curdling shriek and the power in Crime Alley and at least a 800 foot (12 blocks) perimeter. This wail made the pit within him bubble and scratch with rage. Yeah, he had to go check this out and so did the rest of the bats. Great, a family adventure.

They pinned down the location to an old apartment build recently bought up by a mystery company surrounded by guards with unfamiliar weapons. Whatever those weapons were they hurt like a motherfucker, one of those guns, Lazer? Whatever it was it 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩, it felt like it was pulling something out of him or ripped from him. Whatever the hell those weapons were they didn't seem to affect Tim (lucky motherfucker) but they also found out if the Lazer wasn't focused on them the pain went away almost immediately though it did make them stagger a bit. Good thing there are plenty of them tonight. Though Jason would never say that out loud.

They managed to make it through their security rather quickly. Just as they got through another scream rang through the walls shaking the foundation as well as making the pit in Jason act up. Without warning or a plan Jason sprinted in shooting anyone in the way with rubber bullets, the pit was guiding him. Guiding him to what looked like a shittily put together surgical room. Another scream came through as well as sobbing.

Jason didn't wait for the other bats and opened the door to a horrific scene. Jason shot before he even realized he did. On the table was a girl who looked a little older than Damian, she was sobbing still somehow conscious.

The girl was strapped down to a medical surgical table with her chest cavity cut open and a few technically none vital organs removed and placed on a medical cart. A few of her fingers, kidneys, spleen, stomach, and one of her eyes were all placed on the cart. All of it bleeding an awful mixture of red and green. There were 2 IVs pumping through her, one green and glowing (Lazarus water?) The other, a dark black labeled as some kind of poison. He removed the black one causing the girl to whimper as her unfocused eye looked at him. The girl struggled but there was where to go. She sobbed desperately. Her voice horse and small

"It hurts- p l e a s e it hurts"

Jason tried to speak but couldn't muster the words. Right he must be terrifying and he needed to put this girl together again meaning he needed to take off his helmet to get it done right. Jason took off his helmet and began to put the child together again. He put her organs back into her body as well as reattaching them with some stitches.

The other bats would finally enter the room when he finished up his little impromptu anatomy lesson. They stood there for a second unsure as to what to do. Robin looked the most upset at this scene as RR went to the wall. The restraints on the kid was electronic meaning that one of these controls had to undo it. Nothing was labeled because of course it was never that easy. Nightwing would over and try to speak to the kid though she didn't really respond. The child's head lolled to the side and faced Jason.

"Danny?" The child rasped in her small voice as she tried to focus her one eye at Jason. Just as she said the name RR managed to find the button that would restrain her. The child shot up immediately suddenly staring at Jason with a deep toxic green eye as she grabbed onto him she looked at him with an scared and hurt eye. As well as popping a few of the stitches Jason had just done from the fast movement.

"...Danny you lied. Not safe.."

The child clung to him as someone else entered the party in the surgical room. Someone glowing green and chilling the room. Someone who looked Just like Jason, someone using the same but different pit energy, a protective energy rather than a rage filled one. They both just stared at each other.

They probably would have done something to each other but not of the bats could move. Whatever this guy was he was powerful and walking towards Jason. Jason couldn't move either as this man who looked exactly like him bug some how more regal and wearing a crown took the girl from him who had started to melt in his arms.

A glowing green portal appeared next to the man who glowed a similar green. He began to walk through then stopped. The man snapped his fingers having a card appear in front of Jason with some sort of summoning circle on it. As the man spoke the room boomed.

"Thank you for saving my Daughter. Summon if you need assistance from the dead."

He then stepped through the portal with the melting girl and had it close behind them allowing all of the bats and birds to breathe again. Batman spoke this time as Jason looked over the card that he was now getting a little of the green and red blood on.

"We will need to meet with Zatanna for this."

#the robins #red hood #bruce wayne #dick grayson #tim drake #danny phantom #danielle fenton #red robin #robin #may continue later #dc x dp #dcu #batman

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yaut-jaknowit · 3 months ago

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Heyo, i hope your doing alright and have a good day/night :)

I've just recently found your page and absolutely fell in love how you write and draw, please dont stop doing this :^).

Ive been thinking of mabye something like Body and culture exploration? Like lets say GN!reader just recently got with a yautja and they get comfortable enough to actually touch like their mandibles and stuff? Mabye even wanting to know more about their bio masks (like touching or mabye even putting it on) cause thats just something i would personally do. For the yautja could it Wolf? I love my elders hihi. Plus he has a missing tusk there too which i find badass

Thanks <3

(Pls dont mind the grammar, english is not my first language)

A Personal Look

Pairings: Wolf (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2004

Summary: In the home of Wolf on Yautja Prime, it's just the beginning of your relationship with Wolf. There is quite a lot to learn about him. Not just his mind but his body as well. You take a moment to learn your differences physically.

Author Note: It's all good! Thank you for the ask!

Masterlist

Ao3

Lounging in the main room of Wolf’s home on Yautja Prime, you occupied yourself with learning. Learning about Yautjas. Since said Yautja has given you a tablet to fill your time, you’ve scoured what they have for internet about them. They were mysterious and kept to themselves for the most part. Solidary creatures by nature but are willing to choose a mate. Clearly since you are here in Wolf’s home.

Admist your research, the universal wide web holds little about them. Just small articles and posts about either thoughts or lies they thought they knew about Yautjas. Some say they can read minds and teleport. Clearly those articles were thrown out. That only left you with one possible, reasonable source. Yet, even that offered little to quell your thoughts.

This was still in the beginning stage of your relationship with Wolf. The mighty Wolf. Each touch you’ve felt like you danced with fate and death. No, you don’t fear him. Instead… it was more of a respect. The first time meeting him nearly was your last. An inch closer and those blades would too sink into your skull.

Somehow, you still live.

There was something that lured you to him. The same for him. The nearing elder Yautja didn’t understand. Of course, he took matters into his own hands and asked for you to come along with him. The least he could do for almost killing you, you thought. Then, whatever that bait was enough for curiosity to spring life. Then, later… love.

It’s fresh love. Very fresh. Barely out of the womb and still soaked in fluids.

Both of you seemed to dance around each other. For a headstrong Yautja, he took a soft, almost timid approach. You would never say timid and him in the same sentence though. Wolf allowed for you to control this, as if he knew humans needed time to comprehend things. Maybe it was for himself as well. Not to rush into something so fragile.

A groan surpassed your lips. The tablet is discarded onto the nearby stone coffee table. How were you suppose to learn about them without directly asking the source? Wolf’s probably got plenty of information about humans already. Yet, all you got was females are larger than males and they breath more nitrogen then oxygen. Useless!

Up a few steps and on a balcony, sat Wolf enjoying the fresh morning air. An inquiring noise sounded from him. You sat up from the soft couch cushion and looked over at him.

Despite not knowing much about his species, you could see what would show him as an elder among his kind. The crow’s feet, the wrinkles among his face, the greying of his tresses, the way he carries himself. Don’t get you wrong, he is still a deadly warrior, through and through. But he’s lived his life. Now he enjoys relaxing and bathing in the suns of his planet. Though he is old, he’s most likely going to out live you still.

“It’s nothing,” you dismissed, not wanting to lead him onto your plans just yet. You wanted to be prepared before going into this. How were you going to accomplish that when said information wasn’t available to you? God, you wanted to throw yourself out a window.

You drape yourself partially over the back of the couch and watch from afar. Wolf lounged in peace. Eyes softly closed; chest softly rising and falling with each breath he took.

Something within you wanted to gingerly glide your knuckles along his cheek. To fully feel his skin against yours. Properly. Not these fluttering touches the two of you give in passing. A growing need to learn about him physically then move onto mentally. You wanted to know him.

“You watch,” he observed without even opening an eye. Immediately, you flustered and bowed your head, slinking back down the couch. “I was not telling you to stop.” You perked up a little and peered over the edge of the couch to find him in the same spot. “I will not bite.” Was he inviting you closer?

The lump in your throat was forced down before you slipped off of the couch and timidly stepped closer to him. Curiosity may have killed the cat but satisfaction will bring you back.

Nervously, you took each step towards in hesitation. Not of fear. Well… maybe of fear but not of him. Maybe it was the situation. Stepping into the unknown. That’s hit the nail right on the head. There was nothing to know beforehand. So all of this was new.

Sooner than you come to realize, you stand just on the edge of coverage from the harsh twin suns. Wolf blinks his bright yellow eyes open then sits up in a smooth, controlled manner. Quite the opposite of your racing heart threatening to beat straight out of your chest. He looks at you from underneath the beating suns, arms resting on his knees. A poised position of ease. You bite at your lower lip.

“You want something.” It was a statement. Your head raised only a centimeter but he watches the movement. “You are free to speak.” He’s given you all the rope possible. Every last inch of it to control the situation. “You are free to ask.”

Despite your fingers twitching towards him, you tampered down that feeling. Permission. That requires words. Words that are lodged in your throat, stuck in way that you didn’t know how to free yourself. You wanted to touch, to explore what he feels like. To learn about him in a way that you’ve never experienced ever.

Those bright eyes. The first thing saw when he brought those blades down. They pierced straight into your soul directly. They also noticed the twitching of your fingers. You noticed the twitching of his fingers. The two of you were frozen in time. Just watching. Just waiting.

Wolf gave the briefest of nods.

Then, you moved. You found your spot between his legs. The heat from the sun and him causing your core temperature to rise immediately. Though, he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, he presses a button on his lounge chair.

The awning above extended fully, covering you from gathering blisters. Yet, that didn’t stop you from feeling the heat the radiated off of him. The lump in your throat returned. Instead of letting your words speak for you, actions spoke louder.

He watched as you gingerly lifted up a hand in his direction then paused, holding the hand nearly a foot away from him. Wolf takes a moment then dips his head again. Permission granted. The unease that had settled in your chest lifted a little, giving way to hope. The corners of your mouth twitched, just enough to show off the twinkle in your eye.

When the pads of your fingers brushed against the scales of his upper mandible, you couldn’t help the small gasp. For a rugged, hardened warrior, the flesh there was smooth, nearly velvety in a strange way. Like touching a gecko. It was the last thing you were expecting from him. You couldn’t help the giggle that left your lips. Once more, you flustered and retracted you hand out of embarrassment.

Instead of letting the moment fall away, Wolf raises his own hand and waits for permission. When given it, the rough texture of his palm cups your cheek. That was more of what you were expecting. But, you didn’t retreat. You leaned into the touch and let your eyes hooded over, gazing at him with… love. Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it?

Though, the callouses were rough against your skin, you didn’t mind it. You were learning. Learning what he felt like. What a life of a hunter felt like against a human. He slowly let that hand drift down and teased the collar of your shirt then up the column of your throat. Not intimate in a sexual way… but exploring.

You helped by tilting your head back and allowed him to feel the way your throat bobbed; the fluttering of your pulse between layers of skin. Skin that was drastically different than his. His pointer and thumb pinched your jaw softly and brought you face to face with him again. You brought your hand back to his face, inches from touching him. Another nod.

Feeling the smooth flesh again wasn’t as shocking as before. But you still couldn’t help the glimmer of a smile on your lips. The softness of it with folds and wrinkles that marked his age. Years. Hundreds of them. You trailed down his mandible, feeling it twitch under you touch. Yet, you stayed clear of the scars that marred the other side of his face, afraid of upsetting him or passing over a boundary.

Wolf was smart. He could sense things before you could, sense a disturbance, even in you. So, the elder took things into his own hands. Literally. With his free hand, he wrapped them around your other wrist and brought the tips of your fingers to the gnarled skin. Your eyes jumped wide, breath caught in your throat at the touch. This felt like a true velvet than just the scales of his mandibles. Your other hand dropped to his shoulder as you focused on the scars.

Your eyes darted to his for a moment but the elder was focused on the feel of your skin. So, you took that opportunity to press onward by following up what was left of his mandible.

The scar was messy. It spider webbed across nearly half of his face and head. A painful experience you have no doubt about. A story for another time.

Though the healed wound was clutter of stretched and sinewed skin, you were memorized by the texture and patterned. You closed your eyes and let your fingers guide the way.

Inside of your mind, you forged his physical form into memory. A different way of experiencing him. You used your other hand as well to map him out. All the different dips along the dome of his head. The ridges and bumps of his features. The scales that were scattered around. Then, you slowly blinked your eyes open and smiled at him.

His own fingers found the curve of your nose. Starting from between your brows and following down the ridge, letting the lethal black claw ghost over fragile skin. The sight of it made your heart jump but he wouldn’t hurt you.

Not with the way he was looking at you.

Like he was discovering the joys of life for the first time. And maybe he was.

That same finger lingered on the tip of your nose for a moment before sliding down to the plushness of your lips. Subconsciously, you let them part. The sharp end of a claw dragged down your bottom lip, almost catching on the skin. You made no move to warn or stop him. Not even fearful he may hurt you. He stops for a moment when the tip was at the juncture of your bottom lip before continuing.

He went back up and diverted to the side. To your ear. If he thought your face was soft, when he touched your ear there was a stark difference. Wolf lightly pinched the cartilage with wonder flashing in his eyes. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped from you. To see the big bad Wolf amazed by something natural to you is amusing.

Then, up to your hair his fingers went, carding through the strands much thinner than his own. He pinched a bunch together and rolled it. The snort you made drew his attention back to your eyes. Wolf, too, dropped his hands to your shoulders in a similar fashion to you.

There. All you two did was stare at each other, admire the other’s differences. Not bad differences. Just… different. Alien if you must put a name to it. That was the beauty of it all.

Exploring each other.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader

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hotchnersangel · 4 months ago

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Hi Hi! So i saw few of your Aaron fics were based off of songs and Ive wanted an I can see you by taylor swift fic for him for so long.

Specifically the, “I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note, saying meet me tonight.”

ITS JUST SO HOTCH CODEDD

okayyy thanks queen😋

I CAN SEE YOU

Aaron Hotchner

A/n: omg this is my first request so im screaming and kicking my feet right now, i hope i do you justice my love!!!!!!!!! ps, I LOVE TAYLOR AND THIS WAS MY SURPRISE SONG!

cw: implications of sex, dadbod!hotch, pining, kinda objectifying hotch but goddamn hes so hot, bau!reader probably some more but i cant think xxx

Finding your person was never as easy as it came across, in fact, you had a chronic fear that maybe that day would never come. The overriding question of if someone would ever be able to see you so deeply, so intimately and trace your being so intricately with nothing but the kiss of their heart. That was until Aaron Hotchner stood under a strobe light and shon a lifeline when you were in complete darkness, consumed by the ache of your despair.

The relationship between the two of you was… well, flummox. Especially recently; Aaron had become more comfortable around you and it was visible to a watchful eye if you studied every intricacy and atom of his being, which you did. Though, he never let his poker face fall in-front of the rest of the BAU. He was incredibly skilled at the art of deception, which made his yearning of desire towards you that much easier to conceal.

The feeling of his shoulder brushing past yours in the hallway sends one thousand hot electric bolts through your body causing a full body reaction to his touch. Your cheeks mirror a gentle shade of rose as you duck your head down, suddenly finding appeal in the stone flooring. Despite what feel’s like your obvious flirting, Aaron isn’t sure if his feelings were reciprocated. There was certainly a tension between the two of you, but of what nature led you to disclose such information. Was it simply lust, was it… friendship? Was it loneliness? Or simply, was it love?

The feeling that you get when he is near you sends goosebumps down your spine. The way your smile brightens just wide enough for it to not hurt when you smile when he is near, or when he cracks a joke which was awfully rare nowadays, though when it happens you feel a warm and fuzzy sensation inside your belly. He makes you feel a sort of creeping sensation… like something is crawling across your chest, maybe a feeling of a fly or nat, but no- realisation kicks in and you are simply faced with the love-bug.

He similarly feels an alike reception of feelings towards you, though verbally he fears he cannot communicate them with you in fear of getting a reply. He tried for so long to deny his feelings, deny deny deny that you even existed in a romantic sense- but everything he ever did led back to you. No matter how many times he ‘picked up’ a girl in a bar, how many times he was goggled by women around him, no matter how many times he found different ways to infiltrate you out of his mind, it would always run back to you.

You are currently sat at your desk, gazing at Aaron Hotchner as he is sat on his desk, filling out paperwork. The way his eyes skim the page so tentatively makes you wonder what they would feel like when they landed on you for a long duration of time… maybe in a scenario where you were alone in the tension between you- with nothing left to yearn upon apart from the worshipping of one anothers bodies. What would he do, if you went to touch him now? God, it’s all you could think about. The feeling of running your hands across his broad chest and big big arms. Those huge, delicious arms.

You can imagine the way his hands could hold you trapped to the wall while his body boxes you in until you have no option but to submit to him. Your eyes catch his as his gaze wanders away from his case files and back onto you. The feeling of drunken giddy fills both of your stomachs as you narrow your eyes daringly at him, a small smirk lifting the left side of his face. His eyebrow perches upwards as he inspects you, like he was reading every invasive thought going through your head and in return… he retaliates with similar thoughts. The way he could caress your body and how the small gesture could make him want you even more, which he never deemed as possible.

He wished you knew how you made him feel, how your cheeks may flush a little more deeper at the confession that he could see you. Everything about you. The way you laugh, the way you smile, what each micro-expression of your face meant, what your movements implied about your mood, what you need in each and every moment. He saw everything. He saw you.

You see him walk out of his office, his very large and veiny hand holding a stack of files that would take you two to carry. He walks down each step like he was entitled to the world, like the sight of him in his suit and his necktie wasn’t driving you insane.

You couldn’t help but goggle at the sight of him. He always looked… beautiful but today, well today he looked scrumptious. Like he was sculpted by the greek gods and dressed in robes fit for roman emperors- with a little more coverage, unfortunately. The way his black suit hugged his bulky arms and larger waist made your mouth water. The quick glance over his neck tie was enough to send your mind spiralling into where else that could be used. Tying your hands together maybe? Please.

He walks up to your desk, stopping besides you, arguably closer than he should have. His knee was brushed against yours as you looked up at him through your lashes, your innocent eyes hiding the most hideously devilish thoughts of what you want to do to the man in-front of you.

“Your caseload.” He puts simply, placing the folder down in-front of you. Can he hear the way your heart is racing in your chest? Because you start to contemplate if you’re going through a severe heart condition like AF with this irregular pattern.

“Thanks.” You smile up at him, which he catches and nods in return.

“Oh,” he pauses as he turns to walk away, looking back in your direction and moving his hand on top of yours, the touch unraveling a relentless fire spreading wildly through your body- guiding your hand towards the file.

“Have a thorough read on page 3, there is some serious information.” He singles into you eyes, making the world around you spin. You nod, losing your words as you watch his lean figure clamber up the steps and return to his office.

You open the file, starting on page three- your eyes greeted by a small note written in his cursive hatching. ‘Meet me tonight.’

You stomach flips and suddenly, the rest of the day seems to fall into an extremely long and painful blur, over and over, constant reminders that you had to wait, had to restrain yourself to not climb onto hid body like a child in a wild play. Instead, you stayed composed for the rest of the day until the inevitable time occured and suddenly you wished it was a few hours ago, again.

You swallowed your nerves and followed him subtly out of the building, until he opened his car door allowing you to take a seat before heading to the drivers side. When he does, he looks over to you intently and smirks.

“You can follow my orders?” He speaks with a decided tone of smugness.

“When you have orders I agree with, yeah.” You shoot back, looking at him through your naturally glassy eyes. Your lips softly plumped with the lipstick combination defining them. Which, drove Aaron crazy. The urge to smother his body with your lipstick felt overwhelming but he simply just sat and stared.

“Fuck, I can’t do this any longer.” He sighs and looks at you intensely, his eyes singling onto you with intent.

“Do me instead.” You shrug casually and he lets out a strong sigh, moving forwards until his forehead rests against yours. A deep, breathy sigh escaping from his lips as his hand moves to cup your cheeks.

“Say the word and I will step back and let you out of the car.”

“You clearly aren’t very good at your job if you think that I don’t want this, Mr Unit Chief.” You tease him with a playful grin.

He tilts his head at you, hitting an angle that excites you deeply. The sight before you simply knocking you off your feet. Taking your breath away. All the clichè’s.

“I know you want this,” he repeats and finally attaches his lips to yours. Your body moving into a panicked state, flushed with excitement, nervousness, anticipation and lust. A soft shudder attacking your nervous system sending your body into overdrive, making you wonder if this is a dream or not. But, as you feel Aaron pull away, your lip between his teeth.

He looks at you and says, “I can see you, baby.”

And suddenly, the world around you stopped and the silence carried the passion between you and Aaron Hotchner.

#aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x reader #agent hotchner #hotchner x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch x reader #hotchner x you

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azuraaass · 1 month ago

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"The Knight's Dance"

Content: Lewis Hamilton x reader in a Bridgerton way - fluff

Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI

The ballroom glittered like a jewel box, all crystal chandeliers and framed mirrors reflecting the cream of London society in their finest silks and satins. She pressed herself against the marble pillar, trying to make herself invisible among the elaborate arrangements of hothouse roses and peonies that perfumed the air with their heady sweetness.

Another season. Another ball. Another evening of being paraded before eligible gentlemen like a prize.

Her mother had outdone herself with tonight's gown—Emerald silk that brought out her eyes, with tiny golden filaments sewed along the bodice that caught the candlelight with every breath. Beautiful, certainly, but it felt like armor. Pretty armor designed to catch a husband before she became a burden on the family.

She was contemplating a potential espace from the garden when she saw him.

Sir Lewis Hamilton stood near the French doors leading to the terrace, and every eye in the ballroom seemed drawn to him like iron filings to a magnet. He cut a striking figure in his perfectly tailored evening suits, his dark skin uncommon among the pale English nobility but commanding attention in a way that spoke of confidence rather than novelty.

The whispered conversations around her painted him in broad strokes: youngest son of a shipping fortune who'd made his own name in the military, decorated for valor in the Peninsula, recently returned to London society with more invitations than he could possibly accept. The sort of man mothers schemed to place in front of their daughters, if only he seemed inclined to marry.

But it wasn't his reputation that held her attention. It was the way he stood slightly apart from the clusters of gentlemen, watching the dancing with an expression she recognized—polite interest masking barely concealed boredom.

As if sensing her study, his gaze found hers across the crowded ballroom. For a moment that seemed to stretch like taffy between them, they simply looked at each other. Then Lady Danbury's laugh boomed nearby, startling her back to awareness, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks warming.

"Miss."

The voice was warm, cultured, closer than she'd expected. She turned to find Sir Lewis standing beside her, having navigated the crowd with the same quiet grace she'd noticed earlier. Up close, he was even more striking—tall and broad-shouldered, with intelligent dark eyes that seemed to see more than most.

"Sir Hamilton," she managed, sinking into what she hoped was an acceptable curtsy.

"You appear to be studying the proceedings with the eye of a military strategist," he observed, and there was gentle humor in his voice that made her forget to be nervous.

"Is my tactical assessment so obvious?"

"Only to a fellow observer of battlefield dynamics." His mouth quirked upward. "I confess, I was attempting to devise my own escape route when I noticed your... reconnaissance."

"And what conclusions did your reconnaissance yield, sir?"

"That we are both fish out of water in a sea of sharks."

The unexpected frankness startled a laugh from her. "That's a rather dramatic assessment of a ball, sir."

"Is it? Tell me, have you managed a single genuine conversation this evening, or has it all been variations on the weather and commentary on Lady Whistledown's latest scandal sheet?"

She blinked. No gentleman had ever asked her such a direct question at a social gathering. They discussed her accomplishments, her father's estate, occasionally her opinions on utterly safe topics. Never her actual thoughts.

"The latter, I'm afraid," she admitted. "Though I did have a spirited discussion about the merits of various watercolor techniques with Miss Featherington."

"Ah, a fellow artist. And what is your preferred subject?"

"Landscapes, mostly. Also recently I’ve been finding people too..." she searched for the right word, "changeable."

"Changeable how?"

"They rarely are what they appear to be in public." She glanced around the ballroom, at the elaborate costumes and careful smiles. "It's difficult to capture truth when everyone is performing a role."

Something shifted in his expression—surprise, perhaps, or recognition.

"And what role are you performing tonight?" he asked quietly.

The question caught her off-guard with its gentle perceptiveness. "The dutiful daughter. The accomplished young lady. The..." she hesitated.

"The matrimonial prospect?"

"Precisely." She met his eyes, surprised by her own boldness. "And you, Sir Lewis? What role brings you to Lady Danbury's ballroom?"

"The reluctant bachelor. The decorated war hero who should be grateful for society's attention." His voice carried a note of irony that made her chest tighten with understanding.

"Should be?"

"One grows weary of being valued primarily for one's eligibility rather than one's conversation."

Before she could respond, the orchestra struck up a waltz. Around them, couples began moving toward the dance floor with the precision of a well-rehearsed ballet.

"Miss," Sir Lewis said, offering his gloved hand with a bow that was perfectly proper and somehow intimate at the same time, "would you do me the honor?"

Her heart performed a complicated series of leaps. "I... yes."

His hand was warm and sure as he led her onto the floor, and when he placed his other hand at her waist—properly, respectably, but close enough that she could smell his cologne, something clean and masculine that made her slightly dizzy—she forgot to breathe.

"Eyes on me," he murmured as they began to move. "Not on them."

But she was already looking at him, had been since the moment he'd approached. Up close, she could see the small scar above his left eyebrow, the way his eyes crinkled slightly when he concentrated, the elegant line of his jaw.

They moved together as if they'd been dancing partners for years, his lead confident but never overwhelming, guiding her through the steps with an ease that made her feel graceful instead of merely competent. The ballroom spun around them in a blur of color and light, but she was only aware of him—the solid warmth of his hand, the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the room worth seeing.

"You dance beautifully," he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

"You sound surprised, sir."

"Not surprised. Enchanted."

The word hung between them, improper and perfect and absolutely devastating to her composure. She felt heat bloom in her cheeks, spreading down her neck to disappear beneath her neckline.

"Sir Hamilton..."

"Lewis," he corrected softly with a light smile. "When we're dancing, just Lewis."

"That's hardly proper."

"No," he agreed, spinning her with expert precision, "it isn't."

When the waltz ended, they stood frozen for a moment longer than propriety allowed, his hand still at her waist, hers still curved around his shoulder. The ballroom seemed to hold its breath around them.

"Thank you," she whispered, though for what exactly, she couldn't say.

"The pleasure was entirely mine." But he didn't release her immediately, and she didn't step away. "Perhaps... would you take some air? The terrace is quite lovely in the moonlight."

It was scandalous. Unchaperoned walks in moonlit gardens were the stuff of ruined reputations and hastily arranged marriages. Her mother would have an apoplectic reaction .

"Yes," she heard herself say.

As he offered his arm and led her toward the French doors, she caught sight of her reflection in one of the gilt mirrors lining the wall. For the first time all season, she looked alive. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, her smile genuine rather than practiced.

"Second thoughts?" Lewis asked, noticing her pause.

"No," she said, surprising herself with her certainty. "No second thoughts at all."

Because sometimes the most dangerous thing you can do at a ball is dance with someone who makes you forget you're performing.

And sometimes, if you're very lucky, they forget they're performing too.

#lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis x reader #lewis hamilton #bridgerton #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #ferrari #formula 1 #formula one #fluff

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cup1drul3z · 6 months ago

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★ — Chubby!reader x Sevika

CW : nsfw , prositiution , sub!reader , revealing clothes , bdsm , humiliation, some dub con elements

A/N : ive been having some weird dreams recently and i wanted to write them out, reader is chubby in the fic curvy hourglass with rolls specifly also im giving reader waist length hair

you were new to the brothel and had caught the eye of an older women. You eventually found out she was asking questions about you. you were diffent from the other workers, instead of being butt ass naked you wore a double slit dress that ran up your hip made out of silk, though it was a hard cloth to find but with enough connections to topside you can pretty much find anything you want. your stop being made with the same fabric. you didnt wear undergarments according to the uniform rules, you could techincly see everything leaving nothing to the imagination

you had scene sevika out of the corner of your eye several times when flirting with clients, even seen her walk by your room when in the middle of a session, she stared for aslong as she could before it was considered weird. finally the lady had requested you for her session. you wanted to impress her since, well she was hot and you have seen her around zaun, the way she fought and laughed when she won in gambling

so you had to give her the best time of her life. fourtunently with enough puppy eyes and asking, you discovered everything she liked and disliked from past workers who had her as a client.

you walked down the hallway and into your room, a small space yet still had charater, a couch in the middle pressed agianst the wall with overgrown plants. not expecting anyone yet you were suprised to see sevika sitting and smoking on your couch. "i think your my first client who doesnt smoke shimmer" you walked over to her

"theres a first for everything, baby" she put the ciggerette out on the couch sevika smirked as you sat next to her resting your elbow on the head of the couch. "ive seen you around the brothel" the scary lady looked over at you, bringing her mech hand to caress your thigh, "ive noticed" you say looking up from her hand. sevikas face quickly turned red

you raised your eyebrow as you grabbed her shoulders and hauled yourself on her lap, straddling her thighs. "ive also noticed your a tense person, has anyone helped you with that here?" you tilt you head "no. nobody. do you want to try your luck anyway , bunny?" she couldnt stare at anything but your clevage. "what do you do for work?" you asked, lifting her head up.

"is that a joke?"

sevikas voice is annoyed, you giggled "no," you looked off to the side "i know you work for silco but, what specificly do you do?" you leaned down both of your noses touching. "i wish i could tell you baby" sevika ran her hands further and further down you back eventually squeezing your ass

you were caught off gaurd, not paying attention to what her hands were doing "i-" you stutter "ive barely touched you and yet your speechless." sevika moved her hands to your chest as you slid your fingers down to her neck. her hands begining to squeeze your tits

"these are beautiful" she looked you in the eyes, dissapointed you leant back a little to slide your top off. she smirked, picking you up from her lap and onto your back, she moved her knee between your thighs. you hitched your breath "such a dirty slut" sevika cooed

your eyes widened looking up at her. no client has ever degraded you just alot of praise, sevika could tell it excited you, chuckling "so quiet," she teased, pressing her knee further agianst your warmth, every movement sevika made, you felt intoxicated and light headed

sevika rutted her thigh agianst your clit, "oh god" you move your hand to your mouth, sevika quickly pinned your hands above your head "i want everyone to hear you. that im treating you better then any asshole who walks in here"

sevika was able to pin you down with such ease. as she looked around the room, finding a pair of hand cuffs, she looked at you with that snarky grin, cuffing you quickly so she could get back to worshiping your body, she kissed your neck but the kisses turned into biting roughly, making you cry out in pain

she moved down to your chest, twisting and pinching your nipples. looking back up at you just to see your reactions, the way you whimpered and drooled made her go crazy. "so sensitive" she purred moving down to your hips, caressing them and running her finger over your strech marks

"everytime i see you, i want these to be shown." she rested her hand on your belly, "okay" you giggled, she grabbed your ankles and rested them on her shoulders, she grabbed your face roughly leaning in

your lips were almost touching, breathing eachothers air. you felt dizzy, looking up at the celing as she shoved her tounge in your mouth. she squeezed your cheeks, pulling away with a strig of saliva connecting your lips

she lifted your hips a little, moving your skirt out of the way "oh my god." she felt your sensitive clit "you really are nothing but a dirty slut" sevika pressed her mouth agianst your cunt, licking between your folds, you moan loudly in response as you pulled on the hand cuffs

you cried out closing your eyes, sevika flicked her tounge against your clit. you whimpered and squirmed, bucking your hips into her. "stay still, or are you to much of a pathetic slut to even comprahend such a simple task"

sevika put your hips and ankles down. giving you a breather before she pressed her fingers agianst your entrance. she started off on a quick pace, watching you struggle to hold back "dont cum" she growled stopping right when you felt the orgasm creep up. you cried out as she smirked.

"sevika" you looked at her face "please" you plead. "are you begging baby?" she chuckled starting a slow pace "let me cum please" you buck your hips "yeah?" she teased picking up the pace. you went still as the wave of pleasure drowned you. twitching slighty

sevika let you sit for a second before she moving her fingers your clit, rubbing in circular motions slowly you choked on tears. "are you crying?" she teased "what a cry baby, lets see how much you can handle"

you sob as she spead up. it was so overwhelming, as everthing slowed down after you hit your second orgasam. "oh god" you huff out as she moved her hand "you cant handle anything can you? you cum so fast" she licked her fingers before holding your face

"ill make sure to handle that next time"

sevika stood up covering your bare chest with her coat but leaving the handcuffs "wh- wait" you yell out for her as she walked away, she was about to leave the room before looking over at you with a grin on her face

#sevika #arcane sevika #arcane #sevika x reader #arcane s2

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aventurineswife · 7 months ago

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hii there!! this is my first request ever— so sorry if its bad and u dont need to do if id you’re uncomfortable ofc :)) ive had to leave people whom i thought were good friends many times, or ive been abandoned by them and its happened again recently—

so may i ask that you write something with either aventurine or dan heng (u can pick one or both) seeing the reader in their room in the aftermath of having to leave another friend or group of friends? the scenario i have imagined is that the reader is also feeling alot worse than usual since they are starting to feel that they might be the problem. theyre crying about it in their room where the other hears them and comes to check the reader out of worry. the reader talks to them about it and the other comforts them and promises that they wont have to worry about having to leave or being abandoned by them.

so sorry if thats an odd, specific request 🥹🥹 i adore ur writing and i thought it would be cool to ask!! feel free to change anything as you see fit :)

“You Are Not the Storm”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Support, Angst with a Happy Ending, Found Family, Reassurance, can be read as platonic or romantic.

Warnings: Mentions of loneliness and self-doubt, Emotional distress and crying, Themes of abandonment and self-blame.

A/N: I'm so sorry to hear that, anon 😕 i totally get where you're coming from, I had to leave a friend too because of personal reasons and this has happened to me throughout my life, so I totally understand you. I'll be your friend if you'd like. Hope you like this!

The room was quiet save for the muffled sound of sobs. The soft light of the moon filtered through the blinds, casting silvery streaks across the floor. You sat on the edge of your bed, head buried in your hands, your shoulders shaking. The hurt was raw, cutting deeper this time. The thought repeated in your mind like a cruel mantra: Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the problem.

A quiet knock came at the door. You barely registered it, lost in your spiral. Then the door opened gently, and a familiar voice called your name.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?” Aventurine’s voice was soft but carried an undercurrent of concern. His eyes were filled with worry. He leaned casually against the doorframe, trying not to overwhelm you with his presence. “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. That’s unlike you.”

You sniffled, quickly wiping at your face. “I’m fine,” you lied, though your broken voice betrayed you.

Aventurine tilted his head, his hair catching the moonlight. “You don’t look fine, darling. And I don’t like hearing you cry.” He stepped into the room, crossing the space between you in a few strides before kneeling in front of you. He reached out, but his touch was tentative, giving you space.

You hesitated but eventually let the words spill out. “I had to leave again. Another friend, another group… It keeps happening. And I just… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why am I always the one who ends up alone?”

Your voice cracked, and tears welled up again. Aventurine reached out, this time cupping your hands in his gloved ones. His expression softened, his usual flamboyant charm replaced with a rare sincerity.

“Hey,” he said gently. “Listen to me. This—what you’re feeling—it’s not because you’re flawed. People come and go in life for a thousand reasons. Sometimes, it’s not about you at all. And sometimes… people just don’t see the brilliance that’s right in front of them.”

You shook your head, your doubts still gnawing at you. “But what if it is me? What if I’m too much? Or not enough?”

Aventurine gave a small, sad smile and squeezed your hands. “You’re enough. And anyone who makes you feel otherwise doesn’t deserve you in their life.” His eyes gleamed, his usual playful confidence creeping back in. “Besides, have you considered that maybe you’re just too fabulous for them to handle?”

Despite yourself, a faint chuckle escaped your lips, and Aventurine’s smile widened. “There we go. That’s better. Now,” he said, sitting beside you and throwing a casual arm over your shoulder, “let me make one thing clear. I’m not going anywhere. I’m stubborn like that. You’re stuck with me, darling.”

You leaned against him, letting his warmth and words sink in. For the first time that night, the weight on your chest eased, just a little.

Dan Heng stood outside your room on the Astral Express. He’d been walking by when he heard the faint sound of crying. At first, he thought it best to give you space, but his worry won out. Quietly, he knocked on the door.

“Come in.” you said, your voice weak.

Dan Heng stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room before landing on you. You sat curled up on your bed, clutching a blanket tightly.

“I heard you,” he said simply, standing a short distance away. “Are you… okay?”

You shook your head, and Dan Heng took a cautious step closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You hesitated before nodding, your voice trembling as you spoke. “I’ve had to leave my friends again. I feel like I ruin everything. Like I’m the problem.”

Dan Heng was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, his posture calm and unthreatening. “I don’t believe that. You care deeply about others—that much is clear to anyone who knows you. Losing people hurts, but it doesn’t mean you’re to blame.”

Tears streamed down your face. “But it keeps happening. How can it not be my fault?”

Dan Heng looked at you with quiet intensity. “Because sometimes, people grow apart. Or circumstances force things to change. It’s painful, but it’s not always within your control.” His voice softened. “You don’t have to carry all that blame alone. And you don’t have to worry about me leaving. I’ll stay by your side, no matter what.”

His words settled over you like a soothing balm, and you felt yourself relax slightly. Dan Heng reached out, his hand hovering before gently resting it on yours. “Take your time,” he said. “I’m here.”

And you believed him.

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reveryfics · 13 days ago

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hiii first of all love love love ur writing <3

all ive been thinking abt is the rest of the thunderbolts discovering bucky’s long-time boyfriend or meeting him for the first time on accident after they’ve always kept their relationship private from media and such. would be down to see reader as either another established hero or just a regular guy.

no pressure though!! write what u want to write, i love reading it no matter what :) just think it would be a silly situation to showcase their found family aspects as a group.

A Secret What?

Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

Summary: You and Bucky had been in a clandestine relationship for years, a pact forged long before his congressional career began. Your agreement was simple: keep your private lives entirely separate from your professional ones. But a minor misunderstanding recently exposed your secret to Bucky's new team.

A/N: I absolutely love the "secret partner" trope and Bucky is like the perfect person for it too. Decided to take it a step further with reader being Bucky's husband cause I don't do that enough. Can you guys guess the ship I referenced along with something comic Canon?

TW: Secret husband - Fluff - Found Family - Super soldier reader

You'd known James Buchanan Barnes for what felt like an eternity, his presence a constant thread woven through the tapestry of your life. He was, unequivocally, the catalyst for your return to humanity. The very reason you'd managed to reclaim your shattered soul and repurpose the deadly skills honed by the brutal Russian super-soldier program, transforming them into a force for good. He was the anchor that pulled you back from the brink, guiding you away from the cold, ruthless assassin you'd been trained to be and towards a life of purpose and connection. It was because of him that you stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him and Sam Wilson as part of the original Avengers, fighting to protect a world that had once only seen you as a weapon.

But then came Thanos. The snap that ripped half of all life from existence also tore him from your side, leaving an aching void that echoed the emptiness you’d fought so hard to escape. Five long years stretched before you, each day a stark reminder of his absence. Five years without the man who had become your grounding force, your quiet confidant, your unwavering support. And it was in that agonizing span of time, amidst the desolate silence, that a profound realization blossomed. He wasn't just a part of the found family you both yearned for and had been denied. He was everything. He was the missing piece you hadn't known you were searching for, the unwavering light in your darkest moments. When he finally returned, a living miracle stepping back into your world, you made sure he knew the depth of your feelings, the boundless love that had grown in the years of his absence.

A silent, mutual agreement had formed between you, an unspoken pact to keep your relationship fiercely private, completely separate from the demanding and public lives you both led. Your careers as former Avengers, and his eventual foray into politics, necessitated discretion. Not even Sam, your closest friend and a man who saw everything, was privy to the intimate truth. This secrecy often led to frustrating, yet sometimes darkly amusing, encounters. Zemo, with his uncanny ability to ferret out vulnerabilities, seemed to delight in purposefully crossing lines, his hands lingering a moment too long, his comments laced with thinly veiled innuendo whenever you were near. He knew, with a perverse certainty, that it bothered Bucky, a tangible prick of annoyance in his usually composed demeanor. It infuriated Bucky that he couldn't publicly stake his claim, couldn't silence the suggestive remarks, but you both understood the necessity of the secret. Your love was too precious, too personal, to be a public spectacle.

Even as Bucky’s star rose in the political arena, eventually leading him to become a congressman, your relationship remained a carefully guarded secret. Four years into your deep, unwavering commitment, even your marriage remained known only to a select few. Sam and his family, who had become your own chosen kin, and the judge who officiated your quiet ceremony were the only witnesses to that sacred vow. It was a testament to your bond, a private celebration of a love that transcended the chaos of your public lives.

And now, after being away while Bucky and his new team navigated the perilous depths of The Void, you were finally home. Reunited once more, the warmth of his presence a balm to your weary soul. Yet, despite the years, despite the shared history, the private vows, and the undeniable love that permeated your every interaction, nobody, absolutely nobody in the wider world, knew that you were, in fact, the husband of James Buchanan Barnes.

The dim light of the new Avengers Tower kitchen barely illuminated the space, casting long, dancing shadows around you and Bucky. Your back was pressed against the countertop, the sturdy surface a familiar anchor. Bucky, a comforting weight, had you utterly captive, his strong hands gently cupping your hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles on your skin beneath your shirt. Your own hands, still slightly sore from your recent solo mission, hung loosely around his neck, fingers occasionally brushing against the soft hairs at his nape. You’d only returned yesterday, a day filled with debriefs and the jarring shift back to some semblance of normalcy, but already the familiar intimacy of his presence was a balm to your weary soul.

You murmured, your voice a low rumble, your eyes narrowed playfully as you looked at him, "You could've called me, you know." The words were edged with feigned exasperation, though a true concern hummed beneath them. "I would've come and helped, no matter what it was. And now Sam's trying to sue you? Seriously, Buck?"

He let out a long, slow sigh, a warm breath ghosting across your skin as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing lightly against your pulse point. You could feel the slight tension in his shoulders, a subtle indication of the stress he'd been under. He knew this conversation was coming, knew you'd be this way the second you walked through the door. But even with the impending lecture, he'd missed every second of this quiet, undeniable connection.

"I know, I know," he whispered, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against your throat. "But we both know you aren't exactly on Valentina's good side right now. Getting involved would have just complicated things for you, and for us." He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his blue eyes earnest. "Besides," he added, a hint of his old charm flickering in their depths, "I'll talk with Sam. We'll figure this out, like we always do."

You let out a long sigh, a sound that was half exasperation, half affection. "You know, Barnes," you began, your voice softening as you looked up at him, "you're going to start giving me gray hairs. I swear, every time I turn around, there's some new catastrophe you've decided to tackle solo." You leaned into his touch, trying to subtly shift the conversation away from the legal troubles and dangerous missions, back to the comfortable intimacy you both craved.

Bucky's chest rumbled against yours, a deep, throaty laugh that resonated through you as he straightened up fully, still keeping your hips cradled in his hands. He then rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your face. "Oh, I don't know about that," he teased, a playful glint in his blue eyes. "I could've sworn I noticed a few new ones already, even before this whole mess."

You opened your mouth to retort, a playful insult about his own salt-and-pepper hair already forming on your tongue, but the words were stolen from you. Bucky's lips were on yours, soft yet firm, his beard scruff a familiar friction against your own burgeoning stubble. The kiss deepened quickly, a silent conversation of longing and relief, erasing the stress of missions and legal battles.

The kiss was everything you’d been missing, a silent testament to the undeniable pull between you. It was slow at first, a gentle reacquaintance, then it deepened, becoming hungrier, more desperate. Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer, as his hands slid from your hips, tracing a path up your sides, finally settling on your back, pressing you flush against him. The faint scent of gunpowder and the clean, metallic tang that always seemed to cling to him after a mission filled your senses, a familiar and oddly comforting aroma.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, your lips swollen and tingling, Bucky's eyes were dark with a familiar intensity. A soft sigh escaped him as he leaned his forehead against yours once more, his breath mingling with yours. "God, I missed you," he whispered, the raw honesty in his voice a direct hit to your chest. His thumb stroked your cheekbone, sending shivers down your spine. "Every damn second."

You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of him, the quiet hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the otherwise still kitchen. "I missed you too, Buck," you confessed, your voice a little shaky. "More than words can say." The weight of your unspoken fears, the lingering anxiety from his recent ordeal in The Void, began to dissipate, replaced by the comforting reality of his presence.

He chuckled softly, a low rumble against your ear. "Good thing we don't need words, then." He pulled back just enough to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Now, about those gray hairs..."

You playfully swatted his arm. "Hey! You started it. And I'm pretty sure I've earned a few more with all the stunts you pull."

He just grinned, a genuine, untroubled smile that made your heart ache with fondness. "Maybe we can work on fixing that." He leaned in, pressing another soft kiss to your temple, a silent promise hanging in the air. The world outside the kitchen, with its congressional duties, its lawsuits, and its ever-present threats, could wait. For now, there was just this: the quiet comfort of his arms, the familiar rhythm of your breaths, and the profound, unbreakable connection that bound you both together.

Bucky's grin widened, a playful challenge in his eyes, as he suddenly scooped you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. With surprising ease, he lifted you onto the cool countertop, settling you there with a soft thud. Before you could even register the shift, he was pressing in close again, his body a warm, solid presence against yours. His lips found yours once more, the kiss immediate and hungry, deepening with a raw intensity that left you breathless. His hands, now firm and possessive, tightened on your hips, pulling you flush against him, while your fingers tangled deeper in the soft hair at his nape, tugging lightly.

The kiss grew more urgent, a silent conversation of longing and pent-up desire. Bucky's hands began to slip beneath the hem of your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine as his calloused fingers grazed your skin. The heat between you was palpable, a delicious inferno that threatened to consume everything else.

Then, just as the moment reached its peak, a distinctly loud "ding!" echoed through the otherwise silent kitchen. It was the unmistakable sound of the elevator doors opening. Both of you froze, pulling apart just enough to turn your heads towards the noise. Standing there, framed in the doorway, were the wide-eyed, utterly shocked faces of Bucky's new team. A collective gasp, followed by a stunned silence, filled the air, effectively shattering the intimate bubble you and Bucky had been wrapped in.

You watched, mortified, as John Walker, with a surprising amount of paternal instinct, immediately reached over and clapped a hand firmly over Bob's eyes, effectively shielding the newest member of the team from the impromptu kitchen-counter embrace. The rest of the team stood frozen, a mix of wide-eyed shock and barely suppressed amusement on their faces.

"We were just... uh... he was... I mean, I was just..." Bucky stammered, his usual smooth cadence replaced by a flurry of incoherent mumbles. You, equally flustered, managed to get out a high-pitched, "Just talking! We were just talking!" before practically tumbling off the counter. You landed with a soft thud, immediately cursing under your breath. Your face was a furious, deep red, heat radiating from your ears.

Your mind, which moments before had been consumed by Bucky's touch, now snapped into painfully sharp focus. These were Bucky's new colleagues, people you'd only ever heard about in passing, save for Walker. And now, their first impression of you was... this. The realization that they were all acutely aware of what was possibly going on between you and Bucky, an intimacy you'd painstakingly kept hidden for years, sent a fresh wave of mortification washing over you.

"I can... explain?" Bucky mumbled again, though it sounded less like a statement and more like a bewildered question directed at the room, as if he himself wasn't entirely sure what explanation he could offer. He turned to look at you, his own cheeks flushed, watching as your hand instinctively went to your left ring finger, fidgeting nervously with the simple gold band of your wedding ring. The very ring that was meant to be a secret.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy, punctuated only by the low hum of the refrigerator and the frantic beating of your own heart. Walker, still dutifully shielding Bob's eyes, cleared his throat, a sound that seemed impossibly loud in the hushed kitchen. "Right. Well. We were just... looking for the coffee maker. Long night." Your voice was strained, a valiant but ultimately futile attempt to inject normalcy into the wildly abnormal situation.

You shot Bucky a desperate look, your eyes silently pleading for him to fix this. The simple gold band on your finger suddenly felt like a beacon, screaming your secret to the assembled team. You quickly dropped your hand, trying to casually tuck it behind your back, as if that would somehow make the fidgeting, and the ring itself, disappear from their collective memory.

Bucky, catching your distress, finally seemed to snap out of his daze. He took a small step forward, away from the counter and the incriminating position you'd both been in. "Yeah, uh, exactly. Coffee. We were just... discussing... the... optimal brewing temperature," he offered, the words tumbling out in a rush. He rubbed the back of his neck, a tell-tale sign of his discomfort. "You know, for peak... flavor extraction." His gaze flickered back to you, a helpless, almost apologetic expression in his eyes, still lingering on your now-hidden left hand. He knew exactly what you were worried about.

A nervous cough rippled through the team. One of them, a woman with sharp, intelligent eyes you vaguely remembered as being a tactical analyst, finally broke the spell. "Of course, Congressman Barnes. Very important. Wouldn't want to… under-extract the flavor." Her voice was carefully neutral, but the corners of her lips twitched betrayingly.

"Right," Bucky repeated, looking utterly adrift. The effortless control he usually exerted, whether on the battlefield or in a congressional hearing, had completely evaporated. The secret, the one you'd both guarded so fiercely, felt perilously close to spilling out, all because of an ill-timed elevator ride and a moment of forgotten caution.

Walker finally peeled his hand away from Bob's eyes, the younger man blinking rapidly, a faint blush still lingering on his cheeks. Without a word, Walker was the first to move, pulling out a stool at the sleek counter island and settling onto it, seemingly unfazed by the awkward tableau. He then glanced between you and Bucky, a dry, almost weary smirk playing on his lips. "Well, at least I'm not the only guy around here who's into men," he muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear, his eyes briefly flicking to Bob, who was now all smiles as he slid onto the stool beside Walker.

You cocked an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. Of all the people to make that remark, you hadn't expected John Walker, though then again, the man could never really keep his mouth shut. Bucky, still looking like a deer in headlights, just stared at Walker, his mouth slightly agape.

It was Yelena Belova who broke the stunned silence that followed Walker's comment. She stepped forward, her expression unreadable as always, but her voice held an unusual softness. "I may not understand the complexities of relationships, both romantic or sexual," she stated, her gaze sweeping over both you and Bucky. "But I am glad to see James has someone in his life." She paused, then added, almost as an afterthought, "He is less... angsty... when he is not alone."

A ripple of quiet snickers went through the team, and even Bucky couldn't help but crack a small, embarrassed smile. The tension in the room, which had been thick enough to cut with a vibranium knife, finally began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of bewildered but undeniable acceptance.

Ava, ever the pragmatist, was the next to pull up a stool at the island, followed by Alexi, whose usual demeanor was somehow even softer by a curious grin. Soon, the entire team was gathered around, a semi-circle of bewildered yet undeniably supportive faces. The tension from moments ago had completely evaporated, replaced by an almost palpable sense of camaraderie.

"So," Ava began, a knowing look in her eyes as she glanced between you and Bucky, "how long has this been going on?"

Before you or Bucky could stammer out another inadequate answer, Alexi chimed in, leaning forward conspiratorially. "And who made the first move? I'm betting it was Barnes. He's always been a smooth talker."

Bob, bless his heart, piped up with an earnest, wide-eyed question. "Wait, so are you guys like... dating? Like, boyfriend-boyfriend?" He looked between you and Bucky, genuinely trying to piece together the scene he’d just witnessed. His questions were so innocent, so bluntly obvious, that they almost felt like a relief after the earlier mortification. He just wanted to understand, and his simple curiosity was strangely endearing.

You found yourself laughing, a genuine, unburdened sound that surprised even yourself. Bucky, too, let out a relieved chuckle, the deep rumble vibrating through the counter. The questions came thick and fast then, a delightful barrage of curiosity and good-natured teasing. They wanted to know everything: how you met, who was messier, what you liked to do for fun.

In that moment, looking at these incredibly diverse, damaged, and yet ultimately good people, a profound warmth spread through you. It reminded you so much of the found family you and Bucky shared with Sam, Sarah, and her kids. These people, Bucky's new team, were just like that. They were kindred spirits, broken in their own ways, yet fiercely loyal and accepting. There was no judgment, no pretense, just an open curiosity and a surprising, immediate embrace of your relationship. They were family, in the truest sense of the word, accepting you and Bucky without a second thought. It was a rare and beautiful thing, and in the fluorescent glow of the Avengers Tower kitchen, it felt like coming home all over again.

Bucky, surprisingly, was the first to regain his composure, a small, endearing blush still high on his cheekbones. He cleared his throat, a nervous habit you knew well. "Actually," he began, a playful glint in his eyes as he looked at you, "he was the one who made the first move."

Yelena immediately snapped her fingers, a triumphant smirk spreading across her face as she turned to John. "Ha! You owe me money, John. I told you he wasn't brave enough."

John groaned, digging into his pocket with a sigh. "Fine, fine. But I'm still surprised. Barnes, you always seemed like the type to charge in headfirst."

Bucky just chuckled, shaking his head. The earlier embarrassment was fading, replaced by a quiet confidence. He then took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over his team, before settling on you. Your heart fluttered, knowing what was coming next.

"Alright, listen up," Bucky said, his voice gaining a touch of its usual authority. "To clarify for everyone... we're not just 'dating' or 'boyfriend-boyfriend,' Bob. We're actually husbands."

A stunned silence fell over the kitchen once more, even thicker than before. Then, a cacophony erupted. John immediately started bickering with Yelena about the terms of their bet, his voice rising in exasperation. Bob, bless him, continued his innocent line of questioning, now trying to understand the intricacies of same-sex marriage with the earnestness of a golden retriever. "So, like, do you both wear rings? Who proposed? Is it legal everywhere now?" Alexi joined in, though with more worldly curiosity, asking about the ceremony itself and how they'd managed to keep it under wraps. Amidst the cheerful chaos, you realized Ava had, at some point, discreetly slipped out of the kitchen, likely to give you all some space or perhaps just to avoid the sudden burst of personal information.

You leaned back against the counter, a warmth spreading through your chest that had nothing to do with the lingering heat from Bucky's touch. This was everything you had secretly yearned for. A family that embraced you both without question, a chance to finally stop keeping your husband a secret from everyone outside your tiny, carefully curated circle. This new team, with their unexpected acceptance and genuine curiosity, offered a freedom you hadn't dared to fully hope for.

Bucky found your hand under the counter, his fingers lacing with yours, a silent acknowledgment of the beautiful chaos unfolding around you. Neither of you would have traded this moment for anything else. Not for all the quiet solitude in the world, not for the carefully constructed secrecy you had maintained for so long. Because in this noisy, accepting kitchen, surrounded by these wonderfully eccentric people, you finally felt like you were truly home.

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