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swirlysmile · 2 years

Text

enemies to lovers

reader is a pilot, callsign not established

timeline is a BIT janky

warnings: there are some innuendos in here, some swearing, name calling, good natured rivalry, poorly written, bad military knowledge. you get the gist

word count: 1.9k

I can’t be who you want me to be.

You grimace from across the room. Hangman is playing pool, Coyote by his side, and he’s probably insulting Bob. Poor Bob, who has never done anything to Hangman, but is always the butt of his cruel jokes.

Coyote says something with a smile, and you can almost hear the sound of Jake’s laughter when you see his body shake.

“He is so, so insufferable!” You say to Rooster. It’s the third time he’s heard this rant, and he might agree, but that doesn’t mean he cares. So, instead of listening, Rooster takes another sip (gulp) of his beer and absentmindedly nods. He’s staring in the direction of some pretty lady who just walked in.

“I’ll leave you to complain.” He says, patting

your shoulder

You groan a little, because you aren’t complaining, just sharing a strongly worded opinion about one of the cockiest, most annoying, arrogant, and awful people you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.

Hangman is paying no attention to you, even when Coyote mentions the death glares he’s receiving.

“She’s just jealous.”

“What’s there to be jealous of, Bagman?” Phoenix asks.

She receives no response, Hangman is too busy lining up the pool stick to make another painfully perfect shot, a winning shot.

Bob groans at his loss while he’s putting the cue back on the wall.

“Who knows what she’s jealous of, but it’s gotta be something. I mean, there’s no way anybody could hate me without being envious of something?”

He makes a sort of shrugging gesture, almost like he’s implying that it’s obvious.

Phoenix almost laughs.

“I’ll leave you to ponder with your, very, wrong thoughts.”

She pulls Bob to the bar, near where Rooster is sitting.

“Good morning aviators!” Maverick grins. “It’s time we take a little detour.” And you don’t like that idea because whatever detour Mitchell has planned is bound to end badly.

You’re hoping, praying, the whole way to the beach that this will end well.

Hangman is driving the cramped car you ended up in, claiming that carpooling is good for the environment. You can't argue the facts, but maybe you could have carpooled with someone less, douchey?

“Dogfight football? The hell does that mean?” Yale asks, and he makes a valid point.

“Offense and defense, at the same time.” Maverick replies. He sounds like he’s a kid who’s just been struck with the best idea ever, and it’s a tad funny.

“A chance to beat Seresin? I’m in.”

“C’mon sweetheart, you know you love me.”

You end up on the opposite team from him, thanking whatever god decided to take pity on you today. Everyone is running around, their focus on winning has been lost. You would be having a great time too, but you keep reminding yourself that Hangman is near you.

Maverick taps out, but the rest of the team keeps playing. The scores out the window- not even Hondo is keeping track. The teams have mixed and switched, yet you’ve still managed to stay away from Hangman.

“I’m out.” You say. You run up the beach to the small cooler that Maverick brought along and grab water out of it.

Gradually, the game gets smaller and everyone comes over to the cooler. Maverick is ranting about ‘team building exercises’ and Bob is pretending to be interested, or maybe he really is? It’s hard to tell.

You feel arms wrapped around your waist, and you wish you didn’t know whose they were when you glanced down.

“Seresin, put me down.”

“Could at least pretend like we’re friends.” he says, hauling you towards the water. You don’t know his motives, but guess he’s doing this out of pure assholery.

“I’m not much of an actor, hence why I decided to be a pilot.”

He’s ignoring your every kick, shout, grunt, basically anything you do to try and get out of this death trap.

“Cat doesn’t want to go for a swim?” He jokes before throwing you into the shallow water.

“You’re a douche.”

“Born and raised, baby.”

You start walking away, up the beach.

“Where are you going?”

“Walking home.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to be in a car with you, so I’m going to walk home.”

He scoffs. “You’re so childish.”

You offer a shrug in return and keep walking.

He’s sitting in one of the chairs looking all high and mighty when he brings up Rooster and Maverick’s past.

Dickwad.

Rooster lunges at him, and Maverick is continually yelling “That’s enough!” but it’s not helping. Hangman won’t stop talking.

“I’m cool, I’m cool.” He smirks, and it is infuriating.

When he leaves, you chase after him. He’s walking down the hall without a care in the world.

“That was such a dick move, Seresin.”

“I know.”

“And you’re not going to apologize?”

“No.”

You groan, and you’re about ready to turn around again, but you think about what he said and it makes you mad all over again.

“You’re tormenting everyone. You’re being an awful coworker, and friend. I hope you don’t get picked for this mission, especially to be a leader. I wouldn’t want you leading me, or my friends. You’d kill everyone on the mission, and still manage to make yourself look like a savior.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes. For a second it looked like he was affected. Just a second, then he went back to looking like a total douche without a care in the world.

“Let’s face it sweet cheeks, I can't be who you want me to be. Stop trying to fix me.”

It’s the mission date, and you already know you’re not an option. There was a mishap with ejection that resulted in you gaining a sprained wrist and being unable to

fly. Your head is spinning while Maverick is calling the team, and you’re hoping that he won’t call on Hangman.

Sure, it’d be funny and bruise his ego- but with Phoenix and Bob up there? You don’t trust him at all, he knew you didn’t, but Maverick didn’t, and frankly Maverick wouldn’t care if he had decided Hangman was the right choice.

“And for my wingman, Rooster.”

Your heart stops. This is both the best -and the worst- possible outcome. Hangman is put on reserve, only to be sent out in case of an emergency. But Bradley is out there, and he’s an amazing friend. Even though he doesn’t like to listen to you rant about your hatred of Jake, he has redeeming qualities.

“Good luck out there.” You say to him, giving him a hug that he reciprocates immediately.

You do the same for Phoenix and Bob, and when Hangman approaches Rooster, you get anxious.

He stands there for a second, and you don’t know if he’s going to punch (or kiss) Rooster.

You can’t hear anything over the roar of engines, but you can only hope that Hangman didn’t say something shitty to Rooster before a suicide mission.

You take that as your cue to leave and sit by the comms, reminding yourself that ‘hey, maybe they’ll make it out of this alive.’

You’re over analyzing every word they say, and your head is pounding.

“Permission to launch?” You hear Hangman over comms after Maverick goes down.

“Denied.”

“He is so annoying.”

When Rooster goes down too though, every thought of Hangman is pushed out the window. Did you just lose your best friend?

Hangman requests permission to launch again, but you hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.

You just sit there, tears brimming, heart aching.

“Permission to launch?” he asks for the third time, and you just scoff.

“Granted.”

Phoenix runs into the room, sitting next to you. Bob does the same, comfortingly rubbing your back. You wish it was you up there, saving Rooster and Maverick. Not for the bragging rights, but so you could ensure that they’re really safe- not just a glory ploy for Hangman’s autobiography.

“This is your savior speaking,” he starts, and you almost scream in joy. Your friends look just as elated, and surprised, that Hangman managed to save them and only be a little bit of a douche about it.

Right as they land, you follow the rest of the team towards Bradley and Maverick, but falter when you see Hangman standing to the side.

“Thank you.” you speak tenderly. He wraps his arms around you to reciprocate the hug you initiated. It shouldn’t make you feel so warm and fuzzy, but it does.

A little reunion-celebration later, and you’re standing on the other side of Hangman’s door, trying to build up the courage to knock and apologize.

“Uh, hi.” He says, swinging the door open. You’re still standing there, dumbfounded. He has his keys in his hand, and you immediately step out of his way.

“Sorry Seresin, I just-” you stop yourself, almost turning to walk away when he questions you. “I want to apologize. I was out of line the other night.”

He just laughs and runs a hand through his blonde hair.

“It bothered me more than it should have. I told you I couldn’t be who you want me to be, but I don’t know if that’s true. I tried really hard.”

“I'm proud of you, Jake. You saved my friends today, and my sanity.”

He runs a hand through his hair again, like it’s some kind of nervous habit.

“Thanks for talking some sense into me. I needed it.”

“Thanks for listening.” You said, nudging his shoulder.

It goes silent for a minute, then you remember he was about to leave and stutter out a nice goodbye.

“Don’t you want to come to the Hard Deck?” he asks, his head tilted.

“I didn’t know I was invited.”

The music is blaring, the lights are blinding, and the drinks keep coming. It’s nice to drown your sorrows with some alcohol.

Everyone’s celebrating, and how could you not? The entire team dispatched came back in one piece, safely. The only damage? A few scratches, two planes, and some bruised egos.

And Hangman is paying, so may as well get some drinks.

Tonight’s different though. He doesn’t find a random, pretty girl to take home. Instead, he’s directing all his energy at you.

When you step outside and gesture for him to come too, he follows.

“Look, Seresin, I don’t know what you’re doing with the flirting but I’m not interested in being a one-time thing.”

“So you are interested in being a long-time thing?”

“Depends on what you mean by that.”

“As in, a relationship?” He chokes out, face flushed and if you didn’t know any better, you would have assumed it was the alcohol.

“Maybe.”

His hands snake around your waist while you reach to wrap your arms around his neck. He doesn’t even really lean in, he just jumps at you. His lips press against yours, kiss simultaneously soft and hard. His lips are a little chapped, no doubt matching your own.

“I should have tried that a long time ago.”

“I would have broken your nose.”

“With the extra steps?”

“Maybe so, Lieutenant.”

He laughs and leans in, “I could do this all the time.”

“I’m sure you could.”

#hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake ‘hangman’ seresin #lieutenant seresin #hangman x reader #jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun #top gun maverick

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honeyabyss · 3 years

Text

Mc falling asleep next to them

Lucifer:

he had been working nonstop for hours now and the pile of yet to be read and signed documents wasn't getting any smaller

you had been sitting in his study silently working on your own assignments, that was until you've finished them about an hour ago

pacing his room in boredom and looking at the stuff he keeps in his closets (mostly books, records and demonus)

"Could you stop wandering around, you're irritating me!" Lucifer is stressed, annoyed, etc and your sighs, constant footsteps and opening and closing of closet doors, didn't help him to concentrate

you could have left the room and found something else to do, but you were determined to spend some time with him, as the evening work hours are quite literally the only hours where you can be alone with him

so instead you seeked permission for putting on a record to have at least some entertainment, which was both a good and a bad choice at the same time

yes you had something to enjoy and relax to, but the relaxing part worked a little bit too well

after a good ten minutes you were sleeping peacefully, stretched out all over his sofa with no care in the world

"I'm going to take a small break and get some coffee. Do you want something as well?" Lucifer asked only to be met with silence, which he didn't appreciate

he was about scold you for being rude, when his gaze fell on your sleeping form and the words seemed stuck in his throat

how could you sleep so peacefully right next to one of the strongest demons of hell, he honestly didn't know if he was pleased you found comfort in his presence or if he should be annoyed that you don't take him serious enough

nonetheless you seemed to have a good sleep and as this is often near impossible in the House of Lamentation, he decided to let you sleep

he got himself his coffee and once back in his study he moved his workplace to the small coffee table and took a seat next to you on the sofa

he adjusted your form so you weren't hanging half of the edge and put his coat over your sleeping form for some warmth

"Foolish little lamb, letting your guard down in a house of wolves, good thing I'm here to protect you..."

Mammon:

"And then I, the Great Mammon, made an action movie worthy escape and totally didn't run away in a panic, because Lucifer was chasing me..."

he had been telling you how exactly he got into the situation of hanging from the ceiling once again, as you've tried as careful as possible to cut him free, which was harder then expected with the way he kept moving around

once finally free, he dropped onto the ground, whining about the rope burns he got basically all over his body, though demons heal quicker, it still wasn't a nice feeling

with a sigh you offered him your hand and pulled him up and away to your room to give him some of the salve Satan had made you the last time you had accidentally cut yourself while cooking

you sat a flustered Mammon onto your bed while you went ahead and searched through your bathroom cabinets that were filled with products Asmo had gifted you, when you finally found it you asked Mammon to hold still while you put some salve onto his burned skin

"W-what?! N-no way! I don't need your help, I can do that on my own!" and with that Mammon stormed away with your salve and locked himself into your bathroom

you knew better then to argue at this point, Mammon would do what Mammon wants to do...until he fails and seeks protection behind your back...

be it because he is embarrassed, doesn't know how to open the salve tube, or because there were so many rope burns...but Mammon took quite long to apply the crème, leaving you to wait for him for at least half an hour now

helping out Mammon can become quite tiring, not that you mind helping him or don't like being around him, but a nap sounds nice right now

and so you lay down in your bed, it is after all your room, and just because Mammon is currently camping out in your bathroom, doesn't mean that you can't take a nap

Mammon comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he probably needed a few more minutes to build up courage to face and thank you, but he is met with the sight of you sleeping on your bed

Mammons brain is working overdrive, trying to figure out if he should leave the room quietly, wake you up or stay and watch over you...then again he doesn't want to be seen as a creep by you, but he can't deny that he would like to stay with you

he carefully climbs into bed and pushes you a bit further in so you sleep on the wall side and don't fall off in case you move, it takes five more minutes until Mammon risks putting his arm around you all while holding his breath in anticipation of your rejection, when none comes he settles a little closer to you and falls asleep as well

"Don't worry my human, the Great Mammon is gonna keep you warm and protected in your sleep!"

Bonus: even though you two fall asleep next to each other with only Mammons arm wrapped around you, expect him to wake up on top of you holding you like your his pillow

Leviathan:

it was 5am and Levi and you were currently waiting in line in front of a shop to get your hands on a new limited edition Ruri-Chan figurine

surprisingly enough even though you turned up quite early, there were a good amount of people in front of you

the shop would only open a 9am so you still had a long time to queue in the coldness of the devildom morning

"Ah that is not fair! We planned everything so carefully, it was the perfect timing, why aren't we first in line?" Levi complained while standing on his tiptoes to be able to see and count the demons in front of him, coming to the conclusion that if everyone were to buy one figurine he'd still be able to buy one for himself...and whatever you might want

you weren't the happiest when he told you about his plan a few weeks prior and getting woken up this early you might have been a little slower than usual in getting yourself ready, now that you were here you couldn't help but feel a little guilty

you tried to cheer Levi up with the argument that if you were longer in line that also meant you could spend more time together, which resulted in Levi turning into a blushing but happy mess

you put down the blanket you've brought and made yourself comfortable on it, Levi joining you but looking a bit stiff from the closeness

you ate a breakfast consisting out of sandwiches made with whatever was left after Beels midnight snack, which wasn't much but better than nothing

afterwards as there was still a lot of time to pass you started to play some games on his Switch, trying to stay awake

the emphasis lies on 'trying', because after 2 hours or so you start to fall asleep, eyelids and limbs heavy, you don't have the energy left in you to fight the sleep and so you nod off, your head falling onto Levis shoulder who had been inching closer over the period of time...to be able to better see the Switch display not to be closer to you...

Levi.exe has stopped working

there he sits red as a tomato with Mc sleeping on his shoulder, the queue in front of him starts to pack up and move as the shop gets ready to open up, his Switch display is showing the game over screen, his mind feels fogged over and he has no idea how to react now

Mc just fell asleep and Levi feels guilty to wake them...but they have to move...

"H-hey Mc? T-the line i-is moving? Wake up....please..." his attempts are way to quiet for you to hear and even as he gently shakes your shoulder you do not wake, leaving Levi quiet in a dilemma

"N-no other choice..." he says as he packs up the stuff alone, leaving only you sitting on the cold floor...he can't just leave you here..

Levi turns into his demon form, his hands shaking and eyes flitting across your from and over the crowd of other demons, before he carefully lifts you into his arm, his tail wrapping around you as well for more stabilization, so he has one hand free to carry his shopping bag later

he never bought something faster than that day, he got his figurine and even bought you some anime merch he knew you had stated to like, all while feeling like he was running the worst fever of his life and receiving stares, giggles and smug smiles from way too may people, that was enough attention for at least a century for Levi...but he did like holding you in his arms

"This is not fair! I have to deal with all the embarrassment while you sleep...but I guess it's okay if it's for you..."

Satan:

Satans last anger fit had caused way more damage than usually, it had taken place in the library when Mammon had tried to steal a very rare book about spells, to sell it after he found out how rare it actually is...now that lead to Satan throwing down and emptying almost all bookshelves and kicking Mammon through the room

While Mammon was strung upside down from the ceiling, Satan was forced to clean up the library alone, but you had pity on him as there were quite a lot to clean up, if Lucifer doesn't find out you helped there will be no consequences

Satans opinion about you helping was split, first of all he was really thankful for the help even though he was at fault for the chaos, having to clean up all alone was a bit much, but on second thought Satan was worried that you tried to go against Lucifers orders, he's proud of you for defying his eldest brother but also feels like it's a stupid idea

but you have made your mind up and so while Satan repairs and stands up the shelves, you begin to put the books in, you might not know the exact way they stood like Satan, but for now getting them off the floor is the priority

there aren't many words spoken as you silently work away, only once in a while you point out a book which got a bit more damage, the cover hanging off loosely or a few pages ripped out, you two decide depending on the damage if it can be fixed or not

every now and then Satan asks you to hold a piece of a shelf together while he fixes it, he is surprisingly fast and knows exactly how to repair it...just as if he had to do it more than once in a while...

"Oh Mc? Can you give me the screwdriver? No no that one, the one with the cross head is what I need..." you had no idea there were so many different tools, and wouldn't be the slotted one sufficient if you just angled it right? Satan just laughs and let's you try it for yourself, only for you to fail, he then shows you how to do it correctly guiding you through fixing your first shelf

"The last shelf is standing again, I'll help you with the book now." Satan pointed out, a small ray of hope now that only the books were left, you didn't reply, which honestly wasn't really necessary, but a small affirming noise would have been nice, so Satan tries to keep the 'conversation' going, while he works on the books with his back turned to you

"...you're still ignoring me? Are you angry at me for making such a mess? You know you didn't have to help...you can go, no need to act like all high and mighty!" he was getting angry again, yes he did make a mess, but he didn't do anything to you! Had he? He couldn't remember, but humans might interpret actions and words differently…he didn't want you to be mad at him, and neither did he want to get angry at you, but with you ignoring him it became quite difficult to keep his voice low

having enough and wanting to make up before it gets worse, he makes his way over to you, who was leaning against a shelf with a book in your hand

as he sits down next to you and turns your body to him through a guiding hand on your shoulder, he startles, you fell asleep in a sitting position? That sounds more like something Belphie would do...Isn't that uncomfortable?

You must have been exhausted after filling up three shelves of books and fell asleep midway on your fourth shelf, Satan chuckles amused and relieved you aren't mad at him but simply sleeping

He picks you up and brings you to your room where he lies you down in your bed, covering you with the blanket and hesitantly stroking your hair before going back to cleaning up the library

"Thank you for being so patient with me and helping me! You can rest now and I'll make it up to you later!"

Bonus: he will most definitely take you out on a date of your choice, even if he doesn't enjoy the idea as much as you

Asmodeus:

Asmo had taken you out shopping, as he claimed his wardrobe was not having the right clothes anymore so he had to get new ones fast

he had dragged you through town for the whole day and you two only returned home late in the afternoon, you completely exhausted and ready to drop in your bed, while Asmo while being slightly tired, still insisted on putting on all the clothes and showing them off to you and his followers on Devilgram

he entrusted you with his D.D.D to take some nice amazing shots of him to gain even more followers, though that seemed impossible as it already felt as if the whole population of hell was already subscribed to his account

but as long as all you had to do was hold the D.D.D up and click the screen for a picture, you were fine, you sat down on Asmos bed trying not to disturb the bags of clothes that lay there as well

Asmos screen lit up nearly every few seconds with a new message, how did this man not get crazy with all the message?! And he must check them all, because whenever you write him, he is on and writing back instantly...maybe you should steal his D.D.D from time to time to get him away from it...

While Asmo was changing into new clothes in the bathroom, you could hear him humming a happy tune, clearly in his element and enjoying his time, which made you happy as well, but the exhaustion was still plaguing you and the bed felt unbelievably comfy and on top of that the humming of Asmo was slowly lulling you into sleep

"Oooh Mc~ I especially like this top! Just look how nicely it fits, it shows of my best parts, which are all of me haha...hey Mc?~ Look at me!" Asmo pouted as you stayed put on his bed, and climbed over your form, already expecting you to start pushing him off, only to get concerned when you don't

then he sees your eyes are closed and you seem to be peacefully asleep, he instantly coos at your sweet sleeping expression, the back of his hand caresses you cheeks softly, but you don't react much besides moving a bit into am ore comfy position

Asmo backs off and begins to put down his bags, then he tucks you under his covers and climbs right in with you, pulling you close so that you lie on his chest, his arms encircling you to keep you put

the pictures for Devilgram are forgotten for now, they're not running away anyway, you two can continue another time, but for a beauty nap sounds good

"Oh Mc! You look so cute when you're sleeping...next time tell me you need a break, I'm happy to cuddle you while you're recovering!"

Beelzebub:

you had decided to stay a bit longer at RAD today, because you still had something to discuss with one of the teacher, as well as doing some research for an essay that was due next week

most of the brothers had already left for home or different work related activities, except Beel who had Fangol practice today after school, and as you were not allowed to walk around the Devildom without someone accompanying you for protection, all that was left for you was to wait for Beel to finish his practice, which usually took place for about two hours

you sat down on one of the benches at the side of the field, waving to Beel so he knew you where you were and could keep an eye on you

you worked away on your homework and checked you D.D.D from time to time replying to all the messages you got

the practice seemed to be still not finished even after two hours had passed and you were getting a bit tired from sitting around, but you also couldn't just wander off, Beel might start worry...plus the risk of running into a less friendly demon was still a thing

so you shifted from one position into another not really being able to get comfortable on the hard wooden bench

the ground seemed to be comfier with every minute passing, and so you lay down ignoring the weird looks of the team and trainers, you're body simply wasn't made to sit on this bench longer than necessary

"Here you can wrap yourself in this...it's getting cold. Training is almost over, just hold out a few more minutes!" Beel came over and gave you his jacket and you quickly put it on revelling in his warmth

but here is the problem the jacket made you feel so comfortable that you fell asleep, right on the floor next to a few dozen demons

"We're finished! I'm hungry, let's go get something to eat, any wishes what you want?" Beel was packing his stuff and rambling on about how he could eat at least one year worth of food, training having starved him quite a lot

but when you didn't respond he grew worried and kneeled down next to you, gently resting his hand on your side, he simply laughed when he saw you fell asleep, he is used to it due to Belphie, so he carefully picks you up and carries you home, deciding to order food once there

just Beel giving you a piggy back home, softly smiling to himself and being happy you've come to be so at ease around demons..still at bit worried, but he'll protect you, no worries

"I'll stay by your side until you wake up...and then we can eat lots of good food...please just don't sleep too long or I might have to eat before you wake up."

Belphegor:

so there he was, sleeping, on your bed, in your room, without an invitation...and honestly it wasn't even a surprise anymore, coming home after a work shift at Hell's Kitchen and just wanting to sleep, but no there was no space for you on the bed

I have no idea how, but he manages to occupy the whole bed, and hog blanket and pillows to himself as well

if only he was easy to wake, just to tell him to move over, but no he wouldn't wake up unless you pulled the big guns and nobody wants to face the consequences after one dumped water bottle on his head, it would be a hundred times easier and less dangerous to wake Satan

but you were really tired and just wanted to cuddle into your bed, maybe you could maneuver him with a bit strength..actually forget that...you could always call Beel for help to carry him to his own bed, but by the way he was clinging to your blanket and pillows, that would only end in a empty mattress to sleep on and then you would get cold...

honestly it was his own fault at this point you had threatened him to do it, but he had just laughed it off...

and so you climbed into bed and lay down on top of him, wrapping your arms around him so that you would get at least his body warmth if not the blanket

to your surprise he didn't wake up and he was really comfy, his rhythmic breathing was really relaxing and it didn't take you long to fall asleep

after some time Belphie wakes up with you wrapped around him, he quickly realises that you're asleep, but is stunned nonetheless that you would actually have the guts to sleep on top of him with the risk of waking him up in a bad mood

"That's quite bold of you! You didn't think I will let that slip though, right?" he chuckles amused but shifts nonetheless to make room for you, his embrace is tight, and he hopes just a little bit that you wake up, so he can tease you, but you stay asleep looking content with your new position

"I suppose I could go for another nap...now that I have my favourite pillow with me, sleeping will be even better!" he cuddles you, just like the blanket and pillows...which you don't get any of by the way, but you get Belphie so that's even better, he's gonna keep you warm, don't worry

"You're such a odd human...no idea why I like you...anyway just stay here in my arms and sleep!"

Diavolo:

yesterday was amazing, Dia had taken you to a trip in the human world and you had showed him around, visiting as many places as you two could

what you didn't know was that he had actually sneaked out of the castle to spend time with you

well you didn't know until a very angry Barbatos opened a portal right in front of you two and started lecturing Dia for at least one hour

you felt a bit guilty that you were the indirect cause of this and quickly apologised to him promising to make it up

so here you were in Dias office, overseeing him to do his work so he couldn't sneak out again and Barb didn't have to find him

after all if the reason for sneaking out was right in his room then he had no reason to go, besides the intimidating amount of work left on his desk after yesterdays excurse

Dia worked concentrated for most of the time, only now and then staring out of the window or talking to you

"Isn't it boring to watch me work? I can work alone, I promise to run away...or else Barbatos might get a heart attack from shock of seeing me gone again" he chuckled while signing another document

you reassured you didn't mind sitting next to him in silence, you had a good book borrowed from Satan, tea and cookies from Barbatos and you could stare at Diavolo all day long

your last statement made Dia flush red quite quickly and he tried to distract himself with his work, he slouched over in his chair trying to escape your gaze, but you were having none of it

your arms snaked around his waist and your head came to lean on his shoulder, Dia stiffened not sure how to react he liked the feeling of you hugging him, but now he was scared to move too much as not to disturb you or accidentally hit you with his elbow while trying to write

after a few more documents his eyes flit over to your face, cheek squished against his shoulder, eyes closed and breathing calmly

"Mc? Are.. are you sleeping?" he is whispering trying not to be too loud in case you are truly sleeping, and that you are! A soft smile graces his lips, nobody was ever this relaxed around him, he is proud and wants you to stay asleep as long as possible

he keeps working until Barbatos knocks on the door, coming in and announcing to have brought more tea, only to stop when he sees the sight in front him, Mc holding onto Dia, head resting on his shoulder and sleeping, while Dia put his finger to his lips to tell him not to be too loud

you sleep for an hour or so until Dia really has to move, apologising multiple times for having to wake you

"I'm glad you're able to relax around me, please continue to be yourself! My shoulder is always there for you to nap!"

Barbatos:

"You liked the cake that much? I'm flattered! I could teach you how to make it if you'd like?"

you had been over for tea at the castle and the chocolate cake with black-as-hell cherries was the best cake you've ever ate, it was bittersweet in taste not too much sweetness and not too much bitterness, paired with the melting chocolate, you could have eaten the whole cake on your own

you doubt you'd be able to get the same ingredients in the human realm but maybe you could find similar ones, so you were more than willing to learn with Barbatos

and so you arranged to meet the next Sunday afternoon for a baking session

Barb let you into the castle already awaiting you at the door even though you were early

you two worked on the cake, Barb explaining each step carefully, even for the easiest steps he takes his time to explain and help you, being very patient with you no matter how much you screw up

"Next we have to melt the chocolate in a pot. Wait a minute I turn on the stove for you" while you put the chocolate pieces into a pot, Barb moves behind you and turns on the stove, his arms brushing your sides, yet he stays fully focused, what can't be said for you

the cake is put together quickly with you two working together and while it bakes in the oven and the chocolate is meting, you two go ahead and start cutting and coring the rest of the cherries to decorate the cake later

"Here have a taste, they're bitter at first but the aftertaste is nicely sweet!" He holds out a cored cherry for you to taste and eats one himself, smiling gently at you while you sniff at the fruit first, which smells exactly like a normal human world cherry

the only thing left to do is wait for the cake so you two sit down for some tea at a small table in the kitchen, talking about the week, when Diavolo calls for Barb and he quickly excuses himself to help the prince out

the sweet aroma of the baking cake, the warmth of the tea and the very comfy chair you're sitting in, are a dangerous combination making you fall asleep

as Barb returns he sees you with your head lying on your folded arms on the table, clearly asleep, Barb decides to eave you there while cleans the kitchen and checks on the cake half an hour later

"Mc? The cake is ready to be decorated do you want sleep or do you want to help me?" somewhat embarrassed you stand up and help him with the decorations , Barb acts if nothing happened but he can't help but think about your gentle expression while you slept

"Next time I'll let you sleep longer... I wouldn't mind if you visited me for your naps if that meant I could see you more often."

Solomon:

learning magic was many things: exciting, frustrating, dangerous, fun...but sometimes it also was unbelievable boring

like when you think about magic, you think about casting charms, curses, making potions and all that stuff, but nobody told you that beforehand you have to learn everything about the new spell or etc in theory!

so here you were sitting with Solomon as he rambled on about how while the shrinking charm could have really bad side effects if casted wrong, sure it was important to know how to cast it correctly but did you really have to listen on to everything that might go wrong?

listening to all this just make you feel less confident, I mean technically you were practicing with a tea cup to shrink, so shrinking only a part of it wouldn't be too bad of a side effect, but what if you used too much pressure and made the cup explode and you'd hurt Solomon in the process?!

You took a deep breath, which made Solomon stop talking as he looked at you questioningly

"Anything wrong? Already giving up? Is it toom much?" his light teasing was meant to make you relax, but all you could do was give a small, stiff smile, signalling for him to continue and he did, after messing up your hair with his hand giving you a huge grin, but he talked slower now giving you more glances to make sure you were still alright

"How about a small break? I'll make us some tea..." he stood up and made some tea...in a beaker over a Bunsen burner..this weirdo..

the tea didn't taste weird though, it was just normal tea, even though the preparation would have made Barbatos get a stroke

after the break he was back to full tutor mode and your concentration slipped with each new word, until your head falls down, your chin resting on your chest comfortably, you had fallen asleep right before him

Solomon notices instantly that you're asleep and starts laughing so loud that you wake up again, he is crying and gasping for breath at your flustered state and you hit for good measurement on the arm

"Am I that boring? Fine if you're tired you can rest on my bed. I'll read you a bedtime spell book..." he doesn't stop laughing and teases you endlessly, you better be on your toes around him, you won't be hearing the end of this

"Hey sleepyhead? Do you want me to read you into boredom? I won't take pictures of your sleeping and drooling self...No promises made though..."

Simeon:

He was staring blankly at his manuscript, writers block had been plaguing him for quite some while now, but the new chapter had to be sent to the company until next week

you had offered to help him out maybe you could give him some ideas, so he invited you over and let you read the latest chapter so you'd know what had happened

you sat in his room brainstorming ideas on a small extra sheet trying your best to help Simeon out who looked quite lost

"Do you think that would work? Doesn't if feel a bit too rushed? But maybe if we combined these two ideas together..." he seemed to had found something and began to roughly write up a plan for his further writings

he continuously asked you questions about the smallest details, it was kind of cute that he relied so much on you, he probably could have done the rest himself as well, yet he kept involving you into the whole process

while his one hand scribbled like a madman, his other rested on your arm occasionally lightly squeezing it, reminding you that he didn't forget about you

you slowly fell asleep, the sounds of each others breathing, the pen scratching over paper and the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall, the inly sounds to be heard

"What about this part? How do you think it could go from here?...Mc?" he wasted no time in making sure you were lying comfortably, putting his cloak over your form and still squeezing your arm from time to time while he continued to write late into the night

only then did he notice, the brothers might worry about your absence, should he wake and bring you home? or should he let you sleep here and inform Lucifer about your safety? but the sofa you were currently sitting on, would make your back hurt if you continued to sleep here

it took him some time debating with himself, but came to the conclusion to carry you to his bed and tuck you in, giving you a forehead kiss like he was used to with Luke, only to realise what he'd done and quickly scrambling away in embarrassment to give Lucifer a quick call about the situation

"Have sweet dreams my lamb! I'll be guarding you in any realm, even the dream realm!"

Luke:

Luke, Simeon and you were having a small movie evening, watching some old Disney movies

Simeon didn't allow you to watch something else to protect Luke, but you didn't mind too much

you were having some freshly made desserts by Luke who had worked on them the whole day, as he was very excited for your meetup

you watched a few movies, talking, laughing and joking together, just having fun

"Huh? They called the mean cat Lucifer? Hahah how fitting, he kind of even looks like the real Lucifer! Ah, don't tell him that though!" Luke really liked to compare the different characters to the people he knows, but when there actually were a cat called Lucifer he was quite surprised...who would want their cute pet to be called like a demon? Why not call them angel names? Michael is a pretty cool name...

over the time you became more and more tired and Simeon seemed to notice, suggesting on stopping for today and continuing another time, but Luke convinced you two of one more movie

unfortunately you didn't last the final movie and fell asleep cuddled underneath the blanket between Simeon and Luke

Luke took some time to notice, only seeing it when he turned to you wanting to tell you his opinion about the last scene

"Oh! Simeon... Mc fell asleep..." Simeon already knew, as you had fallen onto his shoulder, not that he minded, he just told Luke to stay quiet and watch the rest of the movie

Luke cuddled up to you to keep you warm and occasionally glanced at you to make sure you were okay, and there cuddled next to you he as well fell asleep...trapping Simeon underneath your combined weight, making it impossible for Simeon to get out of the bed, so you three just slept together that night

"Don't worry Mc! I'll keep all demons away from you while you sleep!"

#obey me headcanons #obey me #swd obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me simeon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me shall we date #headcanon

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luckyasfuck · 4 years

Text

could’ve been with me instead of what’s her fucking name

pairing // dilf!katsuki x fem!reader, dilf!katsuki x his wife

warnings/themes // NSFW, dilf!katsuki, soft dom!katsuki, he’s still very mean tho :(, sub!reader, babysitter!reader, READER IS SMALLER THAN KATSUKI IN THIS FIC (by height), infidelity, size kink, praise, fingering (f!recieving), nipple play, bulging, slight mentions of infantilization, hints of hard dom!katsuki at the end

word count // 1.6k

requested by // anon

a/n // anon never said katsuki can’t be mean as fuck

sequel

it was dark. and pro-hero dynamight’s tongue was shoved down your throat. how you ended up in this position, you don’t know. the remaining thoughts you had became hazy as katsuki’s hand slithered up your shirt to cup your boob. he was supposed to be on a mission today and you convinced him you’ll take care of his twins for him since his wife had a late-night shift in the hospital.

it’s been about 2 years since you became the pro-heroes sidekick. sometimes he’d stare at you with half-lidded vermillion eyes filled with lust, and you’d do the same. but none of you bothered to bring it up: the way you two eyed each other. katsuki fucked his hand one too many times every time he saw you wearing a skirt, and he’s pretty sure you’ve bent down one too many times as well to give him a peak of your lace panties.

so it wasn’t shocking when instantly takes off his gauntlets when his wife walked out the door and got in her car. the couch you sat on was soft, the television’s volume was low, but you could still hear it. a pair of hands are suddenly placed on either side of you and you flinched slightly, head turning around by reflex. katsuki’s sculpted body and muscles towered over you, his face centimeters away from your with a proud smirk etched onto his handsome features.

next thing you knew, he was between your legs, his body keeping them apart. he fans his hot breath over your face before diving in to give your tongue another taste of his mouth. he grinds his hard-on against your panties, the skirt you wore practically ripped off with your consent. the rough material of his hero costume rubs against your clit and you whimper, gripping his messy ash blonde hair. two of his meaty fingers grip your panties, pulling them aside and flicking them through your wet folds as you sucked on his tongue sloppily.

in a second, you wrap your arms around him and he lifts you up, trying his best not to break the heated kiss. guilt swarmed in your stomach, or was it really guilt? maybe butterflies? there’s no time to figure it out, katsuki opens the master bedroom door and lays you down on the bed, pulling away to take your shirt and panties off. your bra is lifted up and unclipped, your nipples being toyed with by the pro-heroes mouth. his gaze on you is intense as he sucked on your right tit while playing the other one in between his fingers.

an unoccupied hand goes to rub your clit, his pointer and ring finger spreading your pussy lips apart to push his middle finger in. throwing your head back, your hole flutter around his digit. his kisses go from your boob to your jaw, leaving a hot trail behind them. lips encaging yours again, katsuki moves his fingers at a fast pace making you throb. slowly, he adds another finger, scissoring them inside you as he tries to stretch your hole out so it can fit him.

“you’re so tiny, taking my fingers so well. let’s hope you can take my cock just as good, hm?” katsuki hummed almost affectionately against your lips, picking up the pace of his fingers. “s-sir,” you choked out. “gonna cu-”

“call me katsuki.” his thumb rubs quick and sloppy circles on your clit and you come undone beneath him, cumming all over his fingers. a sigh leaves his lips and he pulls his digits out, licking them clean. “mhm, tastier than my wife.” a dark chuckle erupts from his throat as he went to kiss you, “you probably wouldn’t know, but i can assure you you’re much tastier.” the praise makes you whimper, your clit throbbing hard as he took off his hero costume before you.

the sight of his toned muscles makes you drool, but the large tent in his boxers makes you gulp. with a swift movement, his underwear is off and his cock springs free, slapping his stomach. “that... that’s not gonna fit.” the size and girth intimidated you. nonetheless, your legs stayed spread out for him, practically begging him to shove his cock inside you without warning. “we’ll never know if we don’t try.” katsuki comments, getting back on top of you and using his pink tip leaking with pre-cum to tease your clit and poke your entrance. “do you want it, honey?”

calloused fingers run lovingly down your cheek as he stared at you, waiting patiently for your answer. with a small nod from you, he pushes his tip inside. you grip his shoulders and he cradles you in his arms, slowly pushing his cock further. the stretched burned and you throw your head back, letting out a small whimper of pain. the cock inside you stop moving for a moment, katsuki trailing kisses up and down your neck. “just a little more, baby.” he said, rubbing your waist in an attempt to calm your tense body down. breathing quickening, he pushes the last inch inside you, gazing at you to find any hints of discomfort.

your head was lolled back, mouth open and saliva drooling down the side in pleasure. instinctively, you grind your hips against him, silently asking him to move. and so he does, slowly rocking his hips with yours, cock reaching the deepest depths of your pussy. a hand is placed at the bottom of your stomach and you look over, seeing katsuki admiring the bulge that was forming around that spot. “this pretty pussy, just look at her. swallowing my cock down like a good girl even though she can barely fit it, hm?”

“faster.” you panted out, and this sparks something in katsuki, hips grinding against you gradually going faster until he was pounding into you. the grip you have on his shoulders tighten as you clench around his sporadically, savoring in his grunts and occasional moans. a particularly loud moan erupts from your throat when he changes angles, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. “shh now, honey. the twins might wake up and complain, they wouldn’t want to see their daddy cheating on mommy with the pretty and young babysitter, now would they?” katsuki spat out, grabbing your jaw and pulling you in for a kiss, swallowing in every whine and moan that escapes your lips.

his heavy balls slap against your ass, his unshaved stubble grinding against your clit oh-so-nicely. a hand is placed on your boob to feel it jiggle up and down harshly due to his hard and fast thrusts, the skin slapping and muffled moans prominently bouncing off the walls. in a second, you cum without warning. it just felt so good. it wasn’t right but it felt so. fucking. good.

katsuki’s thrusts grow a little faster but more sloppier as he was near to cumming. he hides his face in your neck, moans uncontrollable. with one last hard thrust up your cunt, he paints your walls white with his cum. the room goes silent, soft panting filling it instead. the ash blonde buries his face in between your boobs, giving either of them a kiss before taking his cock out and lying beside you.

“i’ll stay here until you fall asleep,” katsuki promises, placing you on the guest room bed after he showered with you and got you a change of clothes from the bag you brought with you. he tucks you in as if you were his child, giving you a kiss on the forehead before sending you to sleep.

[ timeskip ]

you couldn’t walk. it was the first thing you tried when you woke up, and you miserably failed. laughter boomed in the kitchen, but you didn’t bother. mrs. bakugou has gone back from her shift and is probably making breakfast. once you learned how to walk correctly again, you texted katsuki a good morning and the news about you not being able to walk. “come down for breakfast, hurry.” was all he replied.

with slightly wobbly legs, you walks downstairs and into the kitchen. the sight of mrs. bakugou perched up on the counter, nightdress hoisted up slightly with katsuki’s hand in between her thighs as they laughed together fumed you. “stop, she’s gonna see.” mrs. bakugou giggled, trying to push her husband away. “i don’t care.” he smirked.

oh so now he doesn’t care? okay then.

“excuse me? uh, sorry.” a nervous and awkward chuckle escapes your lips, waving to the married couple. mrs. bakugou is quick to push the blonde away from her, shoving his hand that was in between her legs away. “i’m so sorry, honey.” the older woman apologized to you, “um, would you like to stay for breakfast? oh wait, i’ll just get your pay.” she offered before quickly rushing upstairs to the bedroom. same bedroom her husband railed you in, and she doesn’t even know.

ignoring katsuki’s hard gaze on you, you sat down on the same couch you sat on last night, fixing your things. “eh? not giving me any attention now?” he approached you, showing up beside you unexpectedly. “what we did was a mistake mr. bakugou, i’m ju-”

“i told you to call me katsuki. you’re jealous, aren’t you?” the blonde smirked, lips growing closer to yours with every word until it fanned his hot breath on yours. you turn your head, “that’s absurd.” you let out a disappointed sigh that turns into a loud gasp when a harsh grip on your jaw forces you to look at him.

“if you want me to fucking destroy your little pussy in front of her, then you better start fucking begging before she comes back.”

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time). big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights for this specific imagery

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado.

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right.

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch.

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation.

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

[email protected] just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song.

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries.

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons.

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him.

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough.

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second.

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?”

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red.

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles.

A small smirk makes its way onto your face.

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there.

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them.

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground.

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder.

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats.

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand.

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under.

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place. He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it.

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt.

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then.

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower.

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place.

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them.

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.”

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine.

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack.

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door.

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind.

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel.

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited.

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist.

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest.

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.”

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment.

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind.

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.”

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing.

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly.

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this.

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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soulmate-game · 3 years

Text

Harley’s Plea for Help: Chapter 2

Chapter 1

“How long do you think it’s gonna take before she decides to sneak out?” Nightwing asked over his comms, lazily leaning against the balcony railing in front of him with his head resting on one hand.

“Dude, I started sneaking out almost twenty minutes ago,” a girl’s voice made Nightwing squeak and turn around, to reveal a teenage girl leaning against the door that led to the balcony he was on. “I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by doing unnecessarily showy gymnastics down from my hotel room’s balcony, no matter how much fun that would be, so I just snuck out one of the hotel’s back exits. Then I looked up to admire the moon and saw you here, staking out what is clearly my suite, and decided to come pay you a visit.”

“How long have you been there? And how did you even get behind me? I hope you didn’t break and enter, that’s an actual lived-in apartment behind us right now,” Nightwing asked, turning around to analyze the daughter of Harley Quinn for the first time in person.

She looked just like in her pictures, of course. Jet black hair like her father’s, except it seemed to have a bluish shine in the light. And her eyes were definitely Harley’s— thank goodness for that —vibrant blue and clearly analyzing him with the same amount of intensity as his did her. He had to bite back a chuckle. In a turn of complete irony, she really did look like a Wayne kid. Fit all of Bruce’s usual criteria to be adopted. But she was tiny, even smaller than Harley’s lithe form. He, Bruce, and Tim were of the hypothesis that the exposure both her parents had to Ace Chemical’s vats of acid likely had an effect on her DNA that stunted her growth. Perhaps there were other effects that they wouldn’t be able to figure out until they got to know her better, too, though it was clear that her skin was a likely one. It wasn’t unnaturally pale like her parent’s after their acid dips but it was paler than normal for sure, just a shade or two shy of being paper white.

And he could see, now, what Harley meant when she referred to Marinette as a powerhouse. It wasn’t very noticeable in pictures, but up close Dick could see the carefully honed muscle of an acrobat curling over her otherwise slim build. Combined with the knowledge that Marinette had been taught at least some serious self defense from a young age, he could see how such a tiny package could be a remarkable threat when necessary.

Marinette grimaced as the other Batfam, who were all nearby staking out her room from different angles, dropped onto the large balcony with them.

“Uh, well. I didn’t break and enter, I rather not get off to a criminal-ly start on my first night in Gotham, you know? But I realized that even though I was able to figure out the exact room you were staking me out from, I realized as soon as I got into the first floor of the building that I had no idea how to actually get to you. So I just climbed the stairs all the way to the roof and scaled my way down to this balcony, and pretended I’ve been here for a while when really I was barely able to hear you ask when I was gonna sneak out. I’m still out of breath, actually,” she put a hand on her chest and sure enough her breathing was still slightly fast. But not enough to be worrying or even all that noticeable. Yet another piece of evidence to show that she was a very active individual and had resistance built up to physical activity.

“Yup,” Robin groused grumpily, crossing his arms. “With all that rambling, you couldn’t be anyone else’s child but Quinzel’s.”

Marinette’s face immediately flushed pink all the way to her ears. “I’m sorry! I’ve been trying so hard to quit that habit, too!” She grumbled a bit to herself, putting her face in her hands. They all chuckled at the display. Red Hood ambled over, draping his arm over her shoulders (he nearly had to bend in half to do it, the height difference was that bad).

“As adorable as your freak out is, why’d you even come up here anyway? There’s no way you’d scale down a ten-story building just to say hello.”

She let out a heavy sigh at that, slowly peeling her face out of her hands. “Yeah, I recognized you guys right away. And honestly, as much as Momma Harley would be super proud of me for managing to give an entire group of vigilantes the slip, she’d also ground me for life if she found out that I saw you guys and still snuck away even though she probably swallowed her pride and asked you guys to babysit me, right? Self preservation. Contrary to popular belief, I do actually have some.”

“Wait,” Red Robin held up a hand, brows clearly furrowed under his cowl. “You expected her to ask for our help?”

“Well,” she made a so-so motion with her hand. “I didn’t think of it beforehand, but it all clicked once I saw Nightwing. I know how much my mom is worried about me, especially since you-know-who broke out a few days ago. She is more than worried enough to ask you guys for help. Even if she does complain about you guys, a lot actually, she also has made it clear that she trusts you guys with the stuff that actually matters.

“‘You know who’?” Batman repeated, arms crossed. If Marinette squinted, she thought there might have been a grin on his lips. “Is that how you always refer to him?”

“What else am I gonna call him?” she asked, face going deadpan. “Sperm donor? Source of a large amount of my self doubt and depreciation? The prime reason I haven’t been able to see my mom in person more often over the years? Oh, I know! How about I just always refer to him as ‘that bastard I wanna punch,’? That sounds good!” she rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Only one person in this world has the right to be considered my father in any capacity, and it sure as hell isn’t him. Genetics notwithstanding.”

Red Hood straight up guffawed at that, landing several rough pats on her back that made the girl stumble a bit. “Yep, I like this one! But as fun as it would be to see you give that jackass a mean left hook, it’s better if he never finds out who you are or knows that you’re here,” the vigilante’s voice got dark and serious very quickly. “He doesn’t forget people he finds interesting easily, and if he ever finds out about the connection you have to him, he’ll be a constant threat in your life.”

“I know,” Marinette agreed with a nod. “And if this conversation was happening two years ago, I’d say that my mom’s concerns aren’t unfounded. That I am too easily emotionally compromised and despite my deep seated issues and hatred for that man, I couldn’t guarantee he would be unable to get to me.”

Batman straightened up, as did all of his sons around him. None of them had missed the ‘if’ there. Batman’s voice went from charmingly deep to it’s usual gruff grumble. “What changed in two years?”

They all watched as Marinette gulped, taking a deep breath as she stalled for time, looking out at the view on the balcony before seeming to steel herself and return her gaze to Batman’s. When she did, it was suddenly full of iron will.

“I didn’t lie when I told Mom that I came to visit her— but that isn’t the whole truth, either. If I just wanted to visit her in Gotham, I would have waited until I was eighteen like we agreed. But I can’t wait, Paris can’t keep going on like this. I entered that contest because it was the fastest way to see you. I didn’t know if I would win, but… I had to take the chance. There was no way I’d be able to get to Gotham behind my mom’s back otherwise.”

“What are you talking about?” Robin hissed, stepping up to his father’s side. “Paris has been silent. If anything were happening, we would have heard about it by now.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Marinette corrected, never losing that ironclad look in her eyes. “Because a combination of magic and politics is keeping it quiet. No news about Paris’ situation is able to leave the city limits. Magic makes any non-native who leaves Paris think that everything they experienced was just a crazy dream. Natives won’t forget, but politics has all of us under very strict NDAs if we leave city boundaries, and all of our local news and social media is blocked from being accessed by anyone outside the city. But, I figured a little breaking of the rules wouldn’t exactly put a stain on my family’s reputation or anything, so,” she dug in her pocket and pulled out a thumb drive, holding it up for all of them to see. She swallowed again, but never stopped her eye contact with Batman. She held out the thumb drive.

“I came to Gotham to ask for your help. This sped things up, I didn’t expect to see you on my first night here, but two years in Hawkmoth’s Paris has really taught me how to roll with the punches. This,” she shook the thumb drive. “Holds videos of every fight since HawkMoth first showed up. It has all the information I’ve gathered over two years, tracks his movements and lists all his targets and— everything. But I’m not a detective, I’m a designer. I make clothes, I spar on the weekends, I am not good at getting evidence to prove that someone is a magic-abusing villain holding an entire city hostage.”

“We’re gonna need some details, Little Q,” Red Hood finally removes his arm from around her shoulders, instead crossing his arms and looking down at her sternly. “If your city has a villain holding it hostage, is anyone fighting him? And if you do have someone fighting him, why don’t you need our help, or why didn’t they call the Justice League? The JLE should be in Paris, right?”

Marinette snorted, face scrunching up in obvious distaste. “I’ll have to answer those a little out of order. First; the JLE was kicked out of Paris. They moved their headquarters to Italy about five years ago, I’m just surprised they apparently kept that secret from you,” she gestured to all of them, who indeed seemed very caught off guard by that tidbit. But Marinette just sighed and continued. “Though that’s a good thing, actually. We do have heroes, it started out as just a pair but it’s grown into a small team out of necessity. They didn’t call the Justice League because the last thing we need is any powered heroes coming in and making it worse— your league doesn’t have the best reputation for letting newer heroes take the lead even on their home turf, you know,” she pointed out, which made Batman shift a bit guiltily. He knew the JL was often a bit… heavy handed in their methods.

“What makes the situation so bad that you don’t want to bring experienced heroes into it?” Red Robin cut in, sounding as if the whole situation was a puzzle he was determined to sort out. Which, really, was exactly what Marinette had been counting on. She shot him a finger gun, grinning.

“That’s exactly the point! Hawkmoth uses a magical artifact, like I said— but this artifact can brainwash anybody who experiences even the slightest negative emotion. Sadness, anger, fear— anything negative. And it gives them powers, but puts them largely under his influence,” her expression twisted again, this time into a wry little grimace. “I guess you can say that my momma’s psychiatry background has secretly come in handy a lot over these past two years. And Hawkmoth is exactly why I try to tell Momma Harley to stop visiting me— I have worked my butt off to keep her from finding out about his attacks or getting Akumatized. Every time she shows up it gives me a heart attack!”

“Akumatized?”

Marinette waved a hand dismissively. “It’s the term used for when someone is turned into a super powered villain because of HawkMoth. The brainwashing— really it’s more similar to a straight up corruption. The person usually lacks their usual moral compass, and just seeks to soothe whatever set off their negative emotion in the first place. Usually, that means they seek a bloody revenge. And if someone who already has extensive training or extremely strong powers gets Akumatized, guess what?” She made jazz hands even though her face was deadpan. “Extra powers, or amplified ones, for the metas or superheroes who are Akumatized. And imagine what someone with, say, Batman’s level of experience could do if he had powers and no moral compass,” the silence that followed her words was deafening. She just nodded, knowing she had gotten her point across. “I’ve been working my butt off to stay positive, because if I’m Akumatized…” her shoulders fell, and she had to swallow a lump in her throat. “... I have no idea what I’d turn into, but if you take into consideration both my training and my family history… it’s really best if we never find out what kind of magic-powered supervillain I’d make.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Nightwing said after another long moment of silence for that to all sink in. He gestured at her with an open palm. “You’ve been dealing with a terrorist for two years who targets emotional vulnerability, you apparently have never been corrupted by this magic at least to present day, but your mother still worries about you being very emotionally fragile. And your heroes are not detectives, which is clearly what you need or you wouldn’t have asked us for our help.”

Marinette nodded. “I used to be very impressionable. At the start of all this, I was a huge people-pleaser. I got attached to new people in a matter of minutes. My mom always said I reminded her too much of herself— but two years of fighting off a guy trying to get into my head—“

“Wait,” Batman nearly barked, taking a step forward. “He’s been targeting you? You specifically?”

Marinette nodded grimly, mouth a straight line. “Not from the beginning, but this past year it’s been painfully obvious. He might be able to sense the strength of people’s emotions, and unfortunately I don’t exactly experience my emotions very… gently. All of my emotions tend to the much more intense side of the spectrum. If that’s true, then he might know that any negative emotion I feel will make an extremely strong Akuma. Either that, or he’s going by process of elimination. All of my friends, except for one, have been Akumatized already. So has my Papan and my grandmother. But it’s obvious when he’s targeting someone, I’ve felt him try to override my will on several occasions. But I can’t just repress all of my negative emotions forever, so consider us working against the clock right now. That thumb drive has all the details you need about our heroes, how exactly Hawkmoth’s powers work, and so on.”

“Do your heroes know you’re asking for our help?” Red Robin asked, gaze burning a figurative hole through Marinette’s face. “Better yet, if this drive has as much information as you say it does, how did you get it?”

Marinette handed the drive over to Batman, who finally took it and tucked it in his belt as she answered.

“Momma Harley might have a lot to say about your detective skills, but you are all still strangers to me. So consider this a test of your abilities— I expect that you will all go to extreme lengths to verify all of the information I gave you anyway. After all, I’m still the daughter of your most hated enemy. Right?” She met each of their gazes, one by one, with a challenging one of her own. “You’ll just have to figure out my connection to the heroes on your own. And how I got the information, too. It shouldn’t be too hard for the so-called world’s greatest detectives. And maybe this can double as a trust exercise. I fully expect you guys to scour through every inch of my past, and dig up everything you can on me. I encourage you to try to find everything you can, so that hopefully you can decide to trust me on your own once you have all the details laid out in front of you. By the way, for your own sanity? I’d start with reading about all of our heroes’ powers and abilities before you watch any footage of past attacks.”

Red hood rocked back on his heels, trading glances with the other vigilantes before they all shared a nod. Apparently having decided their course of action, Red Hood leaned down and hoisted Marinette up into a princess carry. All traces of her previous iron will melted away in favor of the high pitched squeal of surprise she gave, and once more she became an overly flustered teenager.

“Alright, little cutie. Let’s get you to your mom’s place before she and her crazy plant lady fiancé come hunting us down.”

“I can walk! I can freerun on my own! Mon dieu please let me down! Eeeeek!” She squealed again as Robin slapped a domino mask over her eyes and Red Hood wasted no time jumping over the balcony railing with her still in his arms. The fact that they were lowered down by a wire wrapped around Hood’s waist didn’t seem to take away any of the fright that came with a sudden drop over an eighth-story balcony.

Part 1

@emotionalsupportginger @alysrose-starchild @emistar0 @kibastray @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @alyssadeliv @blackroserelina @blackstarlight-co @readingalldaysleepingallnight @maanae @aespades @jaybird-and-co @fleursroses @probably-a-hologram @misterpianoman (didn’t work sorry)

#dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #maribat #bio!dad au #Bio!mom Harley Quinn #Bio!Dad joker #mlb x dc #ml x dc #Harley’s Plea for Help #platonic brucinette #platonic jasonette #platonic Harley Quinn x Marinette

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lost-in-the-80s · 3 years

Text

The Wedding

Pairing: Izzy Stradlin x fem!reader

Words: 2.321k

Summary: Your brother's wedding has arrived, without having a boyfriend, you invite Izzy, your best friend, to be your date. (smut)

A/N: When I started listening to gnr, it didn’t take much time before Izzy got a place in my heart, so this is for his birthday

Song rec for the fic: Woman by John Lennon

Sitting on an airplane for over an hour now, Izzy observed your asleep figure beside him, your head laying on his shoulder, like you had done so many times before, unaware of the warmth it caused on the brunette’s heart.

He questioned himself for a thousandth time that week. Why in the hell did I agree with this?

The idea didn’t sound like a big deal at first, accompanying you to your brother’s wedding wouldn’t cause any harm. But as the days started to go by, his mind traced every aspect of a wedding, the music, the romantic atmosphere, the dancing, and he soon started to regret having said yes so easily.

The truth is that Izzy has always loved you, ever since the day the two of you met. It all happened so naturally that he didn’t notice he was in love until you went on a date with another guy.

At first, he loved your voice, he’d call you just to hear you talking for hours about the most random things. Then it was your eyes, he found himself entranced by their color, the way they rolled when you got annoyed, and how they seemed to invade his deepest thoughts and memories every time you looked at his eyes.

The last thing was your attitude, your bluntness and forward behavior shocking him sometimes, and being his main entertainment in others. He found a true interest in watching you, it didn’t matter what you were doing, you would always be in his sight.

And even though years passed, that feeling seemed to just grow more and more, and every time he saw you going out with another guy, his heart broke into smaller and smaller pieces.

Little did he know the reason behind your maneater habits.

The truth is that, just like him, you had fallen for him since day one, you loved his nonchalant attitude and his style, the shape of his hands and fingers, and how dry his voice was after his third cigarette.

Just like him, you would secretly observe him, the two of you being too good on your game to ever get caught by each other.

But you didn’t want to risk your friendship over admitting your feelings, especially when you didn’t know if Izzy felt the same way. So you went on multiple dates, meeting guys with the most different appearances and personalities, all in hopes that one day, you’d meet someone capable of making you stop thinking about the guy from Indiana. That, obviously, never happened.

A little turbulence on the plane woke you up, you immediately looked up, meeting his brownish eyes.

“It’s just turbulence. Go back to sleep.”

You nodded slowly, before laying your head on his shoulder again, inhaling his scent of cigarettes and cologne and immediately feeling your body calm down.

---

You looked at yourself in the mirror of the hotel room, rolling your eyes at Niki's choice of color and design for the bridesmaids' dresses.

A soft knock on the door caught your attention and there stood him, a black blazer matching his black jeans.

He looked you up and down.

"You're gonna steal the bride's attention like that."

"It's grey, the most boring color ever! I wouldn't steal her attention, even if I wanted to."

He chuckled softly.

Well, you stole my attention. He thought to himself.

Picking up your purse and gift you exited the room, locking your arm with his for support, as you got on the elevator and then walked towards the hotel's saloon.

---

During the entire ceremony, Izzy found his attention caught by you, the way you stood out amongst the other bridesmaids and how impatient you seemed to grow with how long the ceremony was taking.

Your grey dress looked like pure silver, reflecting the lights. You looked so beautiful that he wished he had brought a camera to take a picture of you.

Your eyes caught his for once, and you blinked in his direction, smiling when you saw his lips turn into a small smile.

After what felt like forever the ceremony ended and he found himself sitting at a table with “Y/N and boyfriend” written down on a card.

“I think someone gave them the wrong info.” He showed you the card when you plopped down on the chair beside him.

You rolled your eyes. “Classic coming from my family.”

You lifted the tablecloth, making him look down to see what was happening.

“These heels are killing me.” You complained, removing your silver sandals and quickly massaging your feet.

“I bet they are.” He took two champagne glasses from a waiter passing by.

He knew you weren’t used to heels. Being almost his height, you never felt the need to wear them that often.

“Thanks.” You took your glass towards your nude lips.

“How much did you pay for that gift?” He pointed towards the biggest package on a pile, knowing it was yours.

“300 bucks.”

His eyes widened for a second.

You didn’t wait for him to say anything, knowing exactly what was crossing his mind.

“He’s my only brother. I might not like Niki that much, but he’s happy with her, and I’m happy for that.”

“Fair enough.” He drank from his champagne again. "Those ice statutes are quite tempting for a man who wants to take a piss,"

He chuckled to himself, but soon realized that your attention was focused on the main door.

“See that girl over there?” You pointed at the door.

“What’s with her?”

“That’s Braeden,” the name made him realize she was your sister. “She’s the only woman taller than me here….”

He looked back at you, and so you lowered your voice, keeping eye contact with him.

“When the bouquet time comes, you’re gonna block her.” You gestured aggressively with your hands, making a smile start to form on his lips.

“Why?”

“There’s no way my younger sister is gonna get married before me.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t know you aspired to marriage Y/N.”

Your eyes softened with his sentence and a small pain formed in your heart. If only he knew what crossed your mind when you looked at him during the ceremony.

---

The night seemed to go by faster than he expected and soon he found himself at the drinks table, observing as you talked to some relatives of yours on the other side of the saloon.

You sensed his eyes and looked towards him, giving him a look that said “Help me.”

He chuckled softly, but before he could do anything a woman’s voice caught his attention.

“You must be Izzy.”

He looked to his side, seeing a woman that looked just like Joey, your brother.

“Yes, and you are….” He extended his hand for her to shake.

“I’m Martha, Y/N’s mother.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“I didn’t know the two of you were dating.”

He choked on his drink.

“We aren’t, we’re just friends.” He looked down for a second.

She nodded slowly, before locking her eyes on your side.

“I know my daughter very well,"

Her voice made him look back at her.

“She has had many boyfriends in her life, but I’ve never seen her look at them in the way she looks at you.”

He opened his mouth, but your presence made him stop.

“Hey, mom!” You smiled, kissing her cheek.

“Hello, darling.” She touched your hair, adjusting some locks. “I promised I'd dance this one with your father.”

You nodded in understanding as she smiled before walking away.

��So… wanna dance with me?” You nudged him from the side, before taking a sip from his drink.

“With this song?” He asked, taking notice that Woman by John Lennon was playing.

“Why not?” You shrugged.

“Okay.” He placed his now empty glass on the table before taking your hand and guiding you towards the other people there dancing.

One of his hands held you delicately by your waist as you slowly swung to the song. Your eyes locked on each other as the other people around you seemed to disappear.

Your mother’s words mixed with the lyrics hitting his head like bells as he finally noticed the glow that formed in your eyes as you looked at him, making his heart race faster than ever.

You just realized another song was playing when someone bumped into you, making a disco song hit your ears.

You both looked so distracted and for a second you thought you’d sit down for the rest of the night, not being able to feel his cold fingers brush on your skin through your dress.

But those thoughts washed away when he let go of your waist just to grab both of your hands and guide you throughout the song, just like he did for the rest of the night.

That was the happiest night you have had in your life, and when your hotel room number became noticeable at the end of the corridor, you wished you could turn back time and do it all again.

“Happy with your bouquet?”

“More than happy.” You giggled, smelling the flowers one more time.

It was comic the way Izzy put himself in front of your sister, pretending not to be aware of what was happening.

“Thanks for that.”

“If that makes you happy, I can do that at the next weddings too.”

Next weddings. The thought made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“So…” he started, stopping in front of your room as you opened the door.

“So…”

“Tonight was fun.”

“Yes, it really was!” You said looking down. “Thanks for coming with me, Iz.” You leaned towards him, kissing his cheek gently.

“Anytime.” He replied so lowly that you weren’t sure if he had actually said that.

You entered your room and closed the door, resting your forehead against it as you sighed.

Rushed knocks against the wood made you regain your posture and quickly open the door.

Izzy looked deep inside your eyes, his brown orbs saying everything his mouth wanted to.

Not a second after that and you wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips colliding against his.

No kiss ever had felt like that. It was warm like fire and exciting, you felt your heart start racing faster and your mind went numb.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you as close as he could while entering your room and kicking the door shut behind him.

Soon you found yourself in your bed, your legs wrapped around his hips as your tongues fought for dominance, making small moans and grunts leave your mouths. One of his hands started traveling underneath your dress's fabric, exploring every inch of your legs, making you shiver with his cold fingers.

Your lips found his neck, kissing and biting at his flesh with desire, delighted by his irregular breathing and the small moans he tried to hold.

A certain hardness was pressed against your core among what seemed like a thousand layers of clothing. The sensation making you wet as you bit harsher on his neck, loving the smirk that formed on his lips.

He pushed himself off of you, standing up and ripping his shirt open, the sound of buttons hitting the floor filling the room.

“I need your help with the dress.”

You sat on the bed, your back facing him as he found the zipper, opening it quickly while he applied wet kisses on the extension of your back, biting your flesh just like you had done with him, making a small moan leave your lips.

“So beautiful.” He whispered against your ear, making another shiver possess your body.

You stripped off of the dress as you watched him undo his pants and remove his underwear with it.

He made his way back to the bed, his calloused fingers removed your blue lace panties slowly and delicately. One of his fingers traveled in between your folds, his eyes closing for a second when he noticed your wetness for him.

Izzy cupped your face with one of his hands, kissing you tenderly before asking.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

You felt the tip of his member entering you, making you close your eyes, focusing on the sensation it caused. You felt him slowly expanding your walls until it was all the way in, making a soft and small moan leave your lips.

Izzy looked at you for confirmation and after seeing you nod, he started moving.

In the beginning, it was slow and passionate, he made it the most intimate he could, touching every inch of your skin, whispering sweet nothings on your ear, as you traced his back and arms with the tip of your fingers, allowing your nails to softly touch his skin.

After some minutes, sweat started to form on both your bodies, your moans coming out in unison filled the room as you felt your walls start to clench around him.

That’s when he sped up his pace, the tip of his member now hitting your g-spot with no mercy, he massaged one of your breasts with his hand, while the other rested on the bed for support.

“Izzy,” His name left your lips in a loud moan and you saw a proud expression consume his features.

“I know, princess, I know.”

You closed your eyes and moaned again, feeling as you and he both came at the same time. A groan leaving his throat matching your whimpers as you felt a wave of pure pleasure wash over your body. Your legs started to shake and you scratched his back, while he bit harsh enough to leave a mark on your neck.

Both sweating and trying to gain your breath again, you laid in bed, your head resting on his chest as he softly caressed your body.

“Izzy?”

“Hum?”

“This is not a one-time thing, right?”

“No, Y/N, it is not.”

Thanks for reading <3

Tag list: @born-to-lose @slashscowboyboots @ginny-rose-sixx @dynamitebabe @tuffduff @almosthonest @gamsbeans @stars-kiss-the-sky @gnrfandom-music3 @ladieswttda @teasid @littlemisscare-all @rumoured-whispers @1800endmeplease @izzys-nose-ring @motley-cruer @angxlxc @oihanasstuff @apovanity87 @julessworldd @anaavibes @mudkicker @dazeduchess @izzysjujuhounds @claire-xox @makemeyourwife-loveofmylife @pinkpatiencecreepers @polka-dot-duff @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker @nathaniel-hornblower @alcoholandarson @stevenizzynslashsbabe @gabyisaclassicrocker

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megumitski · 3 years

Photo

hi hi this is just something to track all the hq fics i’ve read recently! this really seemed like a lot when i was putting this together but most of them are less than 15k. this has a LOT of kagehina, plus some kuroken, bokuaka, iwaoi, tsukiyama, and a few other random pairings. favorites are marked with a ✨!

KAGEHINA

✨ his weight in marigolds - karasuno013 (11k)

Tobio imagined that the petals were soft, orange, perpetually messy locks of hair, and his fist clenched around the bud involuntarily.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Please Kiss Him Instead! - Bird_Of_Dreams (6k)

Recently, Kageyama has been receiving what appears to be countless confession letters. The Karasuno volleyball team reacts appropriately with surprise, jealousy, and bemusement (depending on who you ask). But no one is more surprised than Hinata, who is confused and more than a little hurt that Kageyama never told him about them. But is that the real reason behind his conflicted feelings?

As It Should Be - gghostnebula (7k)

Based on a request I saw on Tumblr that someone send fanfics where "Hinata is bullied without the team knowing and then they find out." I like the idea of everyone (including Tsukishima) enraged and vengeful. So I. Did that. I'm so sorry. I'm also really really sorry that the 'ungrateful second-years' aren't really in this because I wanted them to be but I couldn't find a good place for them, since this focuses so much on just Kageyama and Hinata.

Five Plus One - Xachyn (1k)

Five times other people thought they were dating and one time Kageyama wondered if they were.

The Crown and The Crow - Yuu_chi (9k)

Somewhere out there is your forever one wearing your Mark on their skin; it's just a matter of finding them.

✨ In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments (5k)

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

four times hinata and kageyama almost kiss (and one time they do) - spaceburgers (2k)

When it happens, it’s not romantic. Things between them have never been romantic, after all. They’re too stupid for that.

spoiled - buu (2k)

It's the Kageyama that gently takes Hinata's hand when they're walking together, or rests his head on the top of Hinata's when they're watching TV, or pulls Hinata into his lap when he complains about being cold. Hinata struggles at first, confused and thinking Kageyama's making fun of him or something, but he slowly starts to realize that, beyond all belief, Kageyama is the Doting type.

Thaw - peppermint_wind (40k)

Kageyama Tobio just wants to get through the day. He hates winter, he hates most people, and he really hates getting up for an 8:00AM class. That's when Hinata Shouyou, bright and obnoxious, literally comes running into his life at full-throttle and changes everything Kageyama thought he knew.

Basically, the College AU where Hinata and Kageyama meet by Hinata literally knocking into him and spilling hot coffee all down Kageyama's clothes.

touch - buu (3k)

Hinata doesn't notice it at first, really. It's small things, natural things, like when they sit together at lunch and Hinata ends up hooking his ankle over Kageyama's and he doesn't move away; in fact, he seems to not notice it, and go on eating his lunch like nothing's different.

✨ Routine - someonestolemyshoes (29k)

Kageyama Tobio has a routine. Up, shower, dress, breakfast, classes, practice, work, dinner, laptop, show time. Hinata is a well-known cam boy, and Kageyama is his biggest fan.

✨ Acceptable Risk - Mysecretfanmoments (46k)

Tobio braced himself and stood, gathering Hinata’s warm body close. Hinata’s weight settled against him, strengthening the impression he always had at these times: that he was collecting a part of himself, severed by some weird circumstance. In these moments he couldn’t help feeling that Hinata belonged to him, and as long as he didn’t talk about the impression out loud it harmed no one. As it was Hinata mumbled a little, curling into him the way he’d anticipated.

(Kageyama and Hinata navigate living together at university while not dating. It's hard—the not-dating part, that is.)

hot - buu (6k)

Hinata should not be this hot. Kageyama shouldn't find his short stature attractive, shouldn't have problems with his eyes lingering a little too long on Hinata's smaller frame, the way his shirts hang just a little too big on him sometimes.

Oh God - orphan_account (6k)

No, class distinction had never held much meaning for Kageyama. Until the day he met Hinata. One-shot Omegaverse! AU. Smut is heavily present within this story. Mostly PWP, but there's plot, if you squint.

operation: find out if hinata has a hot bod - day (2k)

Kiyoko compliments Hinata's body. It turns into a chaotic mess where the team (aka Tanaka and Nishinoya) tries everything in their power to get a glimpse of Hinata shirtless.

Hinata is oblivious and Kageyama is stressed out.

well, maybe i’m a crook - aruariandance (7k)

The thing is-- Hinata is in love with Kageyama and everyone knows it, including Kageyama.

5 times Kageyama purred + 1 time he didn’t - orphan_account (3k)

No one at Karasuno had ever heard Kageyama purr, but that was normal. He wasn't exactly the most expressive on the team, and no one really minded.

Hurt - someonestolemyshoes (27k)

It’s alarming, Kageyama thinks, how quickly things can go downhill.

One minute Hinata is fine, at the top of his game, spiking left and right and everywhere in between and the next he is crumpled in a limp, lifeless heap on the gym floor and the resounding crack of his head hitting the wood is still echoing in Kageyama’s ears.

knock knock - writedeku (6k)

“I don’t need telepathy to win,” is the first thing he says; nearly shouts it, to be precise. “We can play it without me being linked.”

One by one, the teambonding practises stop as they all turn to Kageyama to gape. Play volleyball without telepathy? It’s not that it’s not possible, but that would put them at such a major disadvantage it’d be like having a team full of one-sided Kageyamas.

the hedgehog’s dilemma - drunkonwritting (17k)

So when he comes to Karasuno, Tobio expects more of the same. He won't make the same mistakes again, but he doubts anyone on the team will like him—Tobio's grown used to his solitary existence, to the point where he can't imagine what it's like to have people around all the time, people who actually want to spend time with him outside of school or practice. He's resigned himself to being alone, because no one in his life has ever decided they want to get to know him or spend time with him or even like him as more than a casual acquaintance. Tobio's tried time and time again to change that and failed over and over—he doubts it's going to change anytime soon.

But when he sees that orange-haired shrimp staring at him from the gym doors, eyes wide and betrayed, he feels a vague sense of premonition.

Don’t Make Me Walk When I Want to Fly - MissKiraBlue (24k)

"I don't want to leave without an apology"

After Hinata rushed from their fight he ended up in a car accident.

But when he wakes up he's not dead and he's not in a hospital either.

Hinata has to live the same day – the day when he and Kageyama fought – over and over again until he finds a solution where he could get out of the time loop.

he may suck at beer pong but he slam dunked my heart - Authoress (9k)

After a while, Kageyama kind of just...forgets how angry the floral snapback makes him. It becomes a companion, almost. It's seen him through many a late library study session, through feeding planaria and wrestling bean beetles into petri dishes. He feels something close to affection for the ever-present hat.

Oh no, Kageyama thinks. I'm attracted to a douchebag.

(The AU where struggling college student Kageyama meets and very unfortunately falls in love with his frat boy lab partner, Hinata.)

room to grow - Mysecretfanmoments (6k)

Third year Kageyama is considerate, careful, doesn't grab Hinata's hair. Hinata's still trying to figure out how he feels about it.

Dare - majesticartax (10k)

“W-wait! Kageyama! What—hold on!” Hinata cries, kicking his legs, flipping around in his setter's strong arms and struggling uselessly, scrambling.

“Can’t we talk about this!?”

Wish You Would - longleggedgit (7k)

The title of this document was just jealouskageyama.docx so that pretty much tells you what to expect.

"If you don't want me to go out with him," Hinata says, lifting his eyes to meet Kageyama's, "then give me a reason not to."

Right Here All The Time - longleggedgit (5k)

"You were flirting," Kageyama says, sounding bewildered, almost accusatory. His chest is heaving under Hinata's hands.

Hinata laughs. "Yeah, and it worked."

Immolate - Marks (2k)

Kageyama balls his hands into fists at his sides and grits his teeth as want builds up in his stomach and sets up camp. It's not the first time he's felt like this around Hinata, but it's the worst every time and he wishes he could just will it away.

come on closer - skeletalparade (6k)

Kageyama shifted uncomfortably on the bench, fingernails scraping against the plastic of his water bottle. He was trying so hard not to stare at Hinata, but it was difficult. Hinata was a good vice captain, but he was ruining Kageyama’s life.

2-Player Mode - medea_azyungele (5k)

Are you ugly or something?" Hinata asks, with his usual lack of tact.

"Oi, dumbass! I'll let you know that-" but he couldn't finish because Hinata interrupts him: "Let's turn on the webcams!"

Suddenly, a square icon pops up in a corner of his monitor.

Oh no he's hot.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments (75k)

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

a first time for everything - Mysecretfanmoments (4k)

He rolls away from Shouyou, his breathing just a little fast. His body has been weird today, more like when they first started dating. It happens sometimes—mostly when they’ve been on the court together, or they haven’t had time alone—but it feels just a bit different than usual.

((Kageyama bottoms for the first time. established relationship, iltwycs-verse but can stand alone.))

✨ Color Theory - kageyamz (41k)

That’s right, he thinks I’m straight. Kageyama sighed in relief at the answer then tensed up, the gears turning in his brain. Wait, I am straight, right? Kageyama wants a simple time at university, but life has other plans for him.

cheater, cheater (pumpkin eater) - teddy_or_something (7k)

Closets hold many things, one of which being skeletons. In Hinata's case, there was a person where there should've been a vibrator, and that was definitely enough to wilt his erection.

Song fic to Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off by P!ATD.

✨ change in pressure - viscreal (37k)

Kageyama couldn’t for the life of him guess what he’d been doing to get so goddamn beat up, but it was there, and the guy wasn’t even taking care of any of it. The pain was making it hard to concentrate during class, making it hard to think at all, and that plus the boy’s overenthusiastic emotions were putting Kageyama in a particularly sour mood, so he really couldn’t be blamed when he snapped something sarcastic at the teacher and got detention in response.

alternatively titled: in which kageyama, an empath whos still just as socially inept as ever, ends up having a gay crisis because hinata cant stop getting hurt.

seventy-thirty - viscreal (4k)

Hinata was the first one to bring it up.

KUROKEN

reddit boyfriends - NeverNothing (4k)

Lev goes on reddit to talk about his senpais and accidentally goes viral. Yaku helps.

✨ you’re the break lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot (15k)

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

✨ the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony (31k)

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

✨ Best Friends - Mysecretfanmoments (6k)

Every evening they walk home together, Kuro smelling of salt and suntan lotion, Kenma’s hands sore from scooping ice cream all day, and it feels nice. Peaceful.

He’s glad Kuro came, after all.

((During the two weeks he spends manning his uncle's ice cream booth on the coast, Kenma decides that maybe he likes his best friend back, after all))

BOKUAKA

tea-stained polaroids - dalyeau (6k)

“I'm gonna date that,” Bokuto declares solemnly, and Kuroo throws a plastic spoon at his head.

cookies and cream - norio (6k)

Some people might tell Akaashi that he couldn't bake his worries away.

But some people haven't dated Bokuto Koutarou.

Komorebi - OwlBeDamned (8k)

When his thirteenth birthday comes, Akaashi should be elated.

Instead, he is worried.

"WWOOOAH, YOU HAVE GOT THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING I HAVE EVER SEEN - NO, THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING THE WORLD HAS EVER BEEN BLESSED WITH...CAN I TOUCH YOU?!"

✨ Upstairs - yoogiboobi (16k)

For about a second, a heartbeat, he's met with a pair of dark, piercing eyes, with what is probably eyeliner, looking back at him. It really is just a split second before his hand knocks down three cereal boxes that hit him square in the head, effectively making him break eye contact and drop his groceries to the floor.

In which some of the first things Bokuto learns about his upstairs neighbour are the colour of his eyes and the sound of his moans.

steam - orphan_account (8k)

bokuto: why is he so hot bokuto: why am i so gay kuroo: LMAO you mean your vice captain right bokuto: yeah

kuroo: i got this bro bokuto: what bokuto: wtf does that mean

Bokuto started to panic.

heavy heart, a love apart - drifloon (7k)

(802): Our sex has gotten so much better since we broke up.

IWAOI

✨ It’s Tradition - MelissaWritesStuff (4k)

Every year, without fail, on Oikawa's birthday, Oikawa has somehow gotten a kiss out of Iwaizumi.

lips like sugar - ohhotlamb (8k)

Hajime is offered to learn the art of kissing from a true professional, one Oikawa Tooru. It's not as bad as he thought it would be.

darlin’, your head’s not right - aruariandance (14k)

'“Our wedding,” Oikawa says by way of explanation, tapping his finger against his magazine more emphatically. “What colors should we use? Color scheme is important, apparently.”

Iwaizumi feels his lifespan shortening.

or,

Oikawa teases Iwaizumi about a childhood promise he made to marry him when they were older, except suddenly it's not really a joke at all.

✨ Bet On It - originalblue (13k)

Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week.

Something Borrowed - rageprufrock (16k)

In which Oikawa and Iwaizumi have always been a foregone conclusion to everyone else, but a massive, unanswered question to one another.

The PDA jar - orphan_account (10k)

“What is that thing for?”

“I’m glad you asked, captain. This… is the Public Display of Affection jar. Or PDA jar for short.”

“Now whenever you do something that may hurt our children’s innocence, you’ll have to put money in the jar as a punishment."

✨ stumble into the sun - sunsmasher (4k)

“So,” Hajime says, as he peels off his uniform shirt, letting it fall on top of his gym bag. “Have you guys ever heard of like, someone being turned on by people saying nice things to them?”

Matsukawa slams his locker shut. “Oh my god,” he says.

by chance - crossbelladonna (62k)

When Iwaizumi Hajime meets Oikawa Tooru, suddenly everything bursts into color. The only problem is that for the other, it doesnt seem to happen the same way.

the world is black and white until you meet your soulmate au

TSUKKIYAMA

by any other name - parenthetic (5k)

A Concise Guide to Dealing with People Asking if your Best Friend and/or Crush is Single:

Panic Lie Run

Do you see what I see? - honeydragon (1k)

Three times Tsukishima wonders what colour Yamaguchi's eyes are, and the one time he finds out.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw (2k)

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team. No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.” Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

Baby, this is how it all goes down - psych0tastic (7k)

In the midst of revising for a class test over at Yamaguchi’s place one night, Tsukki suddenly spoke up and said, “I'd like to bottom the next time we have sex."

OTHER

Rewards Program - surveycorpsjean (8k) - bokuroaka

Akaashi enjoys his normal life, as a normal grocery checker, at a normal grocery store.

Of course, it all goes up in flames when two hot as hell college kids dump their items on the conveyor belt.

Donuts. Glue. Donut holes.

And that's only the beginning.

Edelweiss - ostentatiouslyrealistic (6k) - semi/tendou

Hanahaki Disease (n.) An illness bred from unrequited love, where the victim suffers from coughing up flower petals.

Sympathy From a Lost Boy - meraki_drabbles (11k) - ushiten

The figure was hollow-cheeked and gauntly, with prominent eyelids bulging out under thin raised eyebrows, casting a shadow over irises that Wakatoshi couldn't decide the colour of, but rather processed them as a strange mix of crimson and ruby and scarlet dripped against a mahogany canvas.

"Sorry, am I intruding?

#hq fic rec #fic rec #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fic rec #bokuaka #kagehina #kuroken #iwaoi #tsukiyama

436 notes · View notes

letarasstuff · 4 years

Text

Minimal Loss - Maximal Stress

(A/N): This was requested by an anon and plays in the intern universe. It’s based on 4x3 “Mininal Loss”. I didn’t follow the exact plot, but the quint essence is there (you’ll see what I mean). I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: An intern goes along on a seemingly undangerous case with Emily and Spencer on a ranch under the lead of Benjamin Cyrus. What could go possibly wrong (well, everything ig)?

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, guns, vomit, swear words, ususal Criminal Mind stuff

Wordcount: 2.9k

✨Masterlist✨ ________________________________

“Do you guys really think it’s a good idea to bring a child to an interview about child abuse?” Agent Lunde asks skeptically while steering the car towards the ranch, where the allegions originated from.

“(Y/N) is our intern and we thought she has to make some experience in the field and since this is the most peaceful case you can find within the BAU, it’s her opportunity”, Emily defends the team’s decision.

“Also, she is nearly the same age as the girls, so it’s easier for them to open up to her and she is incredibly bright, meaning she can help us deducing a profile”, Spencer adds. The teenager doesn’t acknowledge anything they say, too engrossed in listening to One Direction over her bluetooth earbuds.

Soon the quartet arrives at the Saptarian ranch. “I’m looking for Benjamin Cyrus.” “You found him”, answers the man, who sits in front of a chapel.

“He really is nicely placed. I feel like I looked like this in my math classes. I was like beautiful decoration, but had no use”, (Y/N) whispers to Emily. She in turn has a look of confusion on her face. “You aced math, you graduated with an A+ in it.” “Just because I have good grades doesn’t mean I’m not stupid. I mean, I’m educated, but stoopid.”

A little later she sits across from a blonde girl named Jessica, asking her questions about the 911 call. Her mother continuously steps into that conversation.

“Jessica, can you tell me, if anyone here were ever touched inappropriately?” “Is this really necessary? You are a child yourself, shouldn’t ask one of the other agents the questions?” Slowly the teenager’s patience is wearing down and Spencer can definitely see that from five meters away.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, but I’m perfectly capable of conducting this interview, if you stop interrupting me. I may be young, which doesn’t stand in my way of being an intern for CPS and still knowing my way around, so please step to me colleagues or something and let me do my job.” Hesitantly the mother gives the two girls their space.

As soon as she is out of earshot, Jessica begins to explain. “Nobody is touched in a way they shouldn’t be touched. Or is it wrong for a wife to share a bed with her husband.”

(Y/N) remembers Emily telling her to not judge anything anyone of the girls will say. But damn it, this girl is really hard not to judge.

“Wait wait wait. Let me get this straight: You are simping for that walking quote machine?” Okay, maybe she is judging. But just a little bit.

“If simping means deeply in love then yes, I am simping for Benjamin Cyrus, my husband.” At this point the other three agents get closer again. “Jessica, the state of Colorado demands parental consent. You aren’t married to him unles-'' The black haired woman cuts the young doctor off. “She did give consent.”

(Y/N) can barely contain the unsurprised “surprised” gasp leaving her mouth. But it would have been cut short nonetheless, since sudden gunfire erupted outside the school building.

Fairly quickly everybody is evacuated through the tunnels. As Cyrus tells the cult members to trust in god, the teenager turns to the agents. “This much to it’s safe for me here. Didn’t anybody check for weapons or something?” Flabbergasted because of the whole situation Spencer answers. “Yes, Garcia checked with the authorities and nothing was suspicious.”

Suddenly Lunde takes all the courage she has (maybe because a teenager she brought into this is in immediate danger like all the other kids) and goes up with the cult leader to speak to the shooting law enforcement officers. Shortly after the other three get the message of her death.

But they don’t have any time to think about her, since they all are shoved into the chapel.

While Cyrus holds a speech about trust in god in dangerous and trying times like this the BAU in Quantico learns about the shooting through the tv news report.

“HOTCH”, Morgan yells up to the Unit Chief’s office, probably giving everybody else a heart attack. Alarmed Aaron storms out into the bullpen followed by Rossi, who is attracted by the tumult. “Aren’t Prentiss and Reid on that ranch?” Derek asks, his eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Squinting at the screen, horror etches on the other agent’s face. “(Y/N) is also there”, he says, realizing that they sent a minor with zero field experience into a lava hot situation.

Suddenly the whole bullpen’s phones ring, which results in Hotch barking his first commands.

After a nightflight to Colorado the team sets up at the crime scene.

“Dave, I was appointed to determine the primary negotiator”, Aaron tells him after he pulls him to the side. “It makes sense. I trained most of the people here, if you want me I can give you a few recommendations.” But the Unit Chief shakes his head. “No, I want you to be the negotiator in this.”

Now it’s Rossi’s turn to shake his head. “Aaron, I can’t do it, I’m too emotionally involved.” “So are all of us and why should I take the student if I can have the teacher?” The older one sighs in resignation and accepts the offer. They don’t have the team nor reccourses for any mistakes in this.

As he goes to prepare for his task at hand, Hotch hears a man complaining loudly. “I demand to talk to know why I wasn't told that the FBI was sending undercover agents into the Saptarian ranch?” “The only thing you are in position to demand is a lawyer”, he says while stepping closer to the scene.

“Who the hell are you?” The man spits out into his direction. “I’m Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. I’m the guy who is gonna tell the Attorney General of the United States whether to charge you with obstructing a federal investigation or negligent homicide.” “You can’t talk to me like that”.

Upon closing the little bit of space between both of them, Aaron stares him down. “Get off my crime scene.” Just a few seconds of the intense and pissed Hotch Stare are enough to chase that man down to his car and go on his way to Coward Island.

Meanwhile the first contact is made, Emily and Spencer tell (Y/N) in hushed voices what the situation means. “There are three groups here. The leader, in this case Cyrus. The hard die hard believers, the goons of him, and the followers”, Spencer explains.

“In a case like this we go for minimal loss. We try to get as many of the followers out as possible, because the rest won’t give up as long as they can breathe. At first we go with one or two people, children mostly, then with smaller groups and in the end we get out as many of these people we can. Soon, there will be the first supply delivery from our team, but it’s gonna be bugged, which means we know they are listening. Understood?” Emily adds.

Aside from the knowledge that there is a great possibility that they won’t come out alive of this one, (Y/N) is pretty calm. “Honestly, it’s pretty extra here. I mean I can’t even, look at the walls and the whole pseudo decoration. Why would anybody choose this willingly? But yeah, I understand.” Seeing that these phrases are a kind of a coping mechanism, the two agents aren’t too concerned about her right now. I mean, of course they are pretty much on edge because they all are in a hostage situation, but since the teenager doesn’t seem to be on the verge of a breakdown she has to be fine.

“Is there anything you want to know?” The black haired woman asks, stroking the younger one’s hair out of her face. “No, not right now. This is anything but basic, but I’ll hit you up if something shoots into my mind.”

When Rossi comes in to hand make the first delivery, he looks beyond worried. It seems like he got years older in the span of the last 24 hours. As he glances through the rows of people, he subtly acknowledges their presence and well being.

“How do we know this will be nothing like Waco?” (Y/N) asks out of the blue as all the members get a cup of wine. Surprised Emily turns towards her. “You know about Waco?” “Duh? I told you, I’m educated. So, how do we kno-” “And together we drank the poison.” “Oh well, I guess we do now. It’s nearly iconic how bad his acting is.” Now both of the agents look confused at her.

“What? Didn’t I tell you that I was a theater kid? Also, his goons are writing the reactions down, so it’s just a test to know who to separate from the group and who not.” Even in a situation like this a girl in a red and black flannel over a white graphic tee - it is a Doctor Who Tardis - astounds them.

Not long after this, the three of them are shoved into a small room, which looks sort of like an office.

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus asks. Confused Prentiss, Reid and the intern look at him. When nobody speaks up he pulls out his gun. “One of you is an FBI agent. So who is it?”

In the short silence he points his weapon at (Y/N). “Oof. Dude, what the fu-” “She is a child. The FBI doesn’t recruit children. But she is a good leverage. So, if neither of you reveals their identity, I will blow her brain out.” This is the final point for the teenager to slowly freak out.

“It’s me. I’m the FBI agent”, Emily confesses. Seeing the young girl with panic in her eyes sets something off in her. Roughly she is taken away by two big guys.

“No no no! This can’t be right. Nobody of us is from the feds. It’s not her, you stupid piece of boom-” With a swift motion of his gun Cyrus knocks her out.

“Damn, this is an annoying one. I don’t know how you can even take her seriously.”

(Y/N) wakes up half an hour later in the chapel draped over two stools with her head in Spencer’s lap. He strokes her hair while his mind is running non stop looking for a solution to this situation. A groan tells him that she is awake.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” The young doctor asks in a soft voice. “If good means your head feels like it’s dancing samba without me, then I’m good.”

He smiles. “We are going to get out here, soon. I convinced Cyrus that we are on his side. He also won’t hurt Emily any further. I saw her earlier, he held a speech. She is fine, just a bit roughen up.”

To lie to the girl like that feels wrong to Reid, but he can see signs of a concussion by her behavior and doesn’t want to worry her more than she already is.

Three o’clock rolls closer and closer, which makes both of them more nervous. Because of the lack of communication they don’t know the tactic the team will use to come in. They can only hope that they all come out alive and in one piece.

Since they are in the chapel, their attention is solely on the cult leader. They don’t even notice all the women and children leaving. As (Y/N) and Spencer spot Cyrus with the remote for detonating the explosives, she mumbles “Let’s get this bread”.

When the leader sees Spencer trying to convince one of the die hard believers that he has a choice to change his mind, he punches the young doctor so hard in the gut that even (Y/N), whose vision is slightly blurred, feels the pain he endures.

“Hey Cyrus”, she calls out, “TBH I think all the shit you are doing here didn’t pass my vibe check. Also, the whole system is pretty whack.”

“You are a child, you don’t know anything. If god doesn’t want me to do any of this, he would stop me.” As Cyrus cocks his gun towards Spencer, Derek runs in and shoots him in the chest twice.

(Y/N) crosses her arms over her chest, says “Ok, Boomer” and rolls her eyes.

“Are you ok, princess?” Morgan asks, going over to her and examining the wound on the side of her head. “Never felt better now that there are two Derek Morgans to protect me.” Concerned he goes to say something else, but is cut short by Spencer shouting “RUN!”.

A look behind them shows Jessica short circuiting upon her husband’s death and grabbing the remote.

When the explosion erupts, Emily looks terrified at the remains of the chapel.

“Morgan! Reid! (Y/N)!” She shouts, followed by the other members and their calls after the three. A certain fear captures every single one of them. If only one of them is- No. Nobody can go through this thought. They are going to be fine. They are alive and-

“Thank god”, JJ breathes as she spots three limping figures. They slowly approach the group of four. “EMILY!” The teenager shouts relieved, though a little loud for the proximity between them. “SPENCER WOULDN’T REALLY TELL ME HOW YOU ARE! YOU LOOK TERRIBLE! THANK HARRY STYLES YOU ARE FINE!” Yes, the explosion definitely messed all of their hearings up, since Morgan and Reid also speak with the same volume.

Emily hugs her. “I’m okay. But you need to get checked out.” But the teenager vehemently shakes her head as she hugs Aaron. “I DON’T NEED TO”, when she sees her teammate’s faces, she reduces her loudness. “I am ok. But Spencer, he got a good blow to his guts. I think the Queen in England even felt that vibe check.”

As Derek escorted the young doctor to one of the awaiting ambulances, JJ also gently stirs the girl in the same direction. “Just let a doctor look over your head, it looks like a nasty cut and believe me, you want to get this checked out, Honey.” “But Jayje-” She begins to complain, but gets cut off by bile rising up her throat. In the next moment (Y/N) kneels on the floor, letting out anything she got in her system over the course of the past few days.

“I think this is nothing your body should do, Bambi”, Rossi adds up. Unwillingly the intern goes with the blonde mother to the EMTs. They decide to have a doctor looking over her and getting her x-rays done at the hospital.

A few hours and uncountable complaints from (Y/N) later, the team is back on the jet on their way home. She thanked Emily in a heartfelt moment in the hospital shortly after she got pain killers, which made her loopy, for saving her life by putting her own on the line by exposing her identity. Even Prentiss had tears in her eyes as she saw the young and innocent girl so frayed by the just occured events.

Unusual for Rossi, he takes a seat on the sofa, petting his lap as (Y/N) sits beside him. With pleasure she lays her head onto it, cuddling closer into the fuzzy blanket she got from Morgan.

A few minutes into the flight, Rossi just got into describing the interviews he conducted with Ted Bundy, Aaron motions him to make space. David excuses himself with the reasoning of getting a cup of tea for her.

“I’m sorry”, Hotch says as he runs his hands through his youngest employee’s hair. He is careful to not mess with the bandage she has on the side of her head. Confused (Y/N) looks up to him. “What for?” “For sending you into a situation, where you got seriously hurt.”

This makes the girl sit up, though her world once again begins to spin. “Aaron Hotchner, I hope you don’t mean that. You nor anybody else knew that this was going to happen. You only wanted for me to get as much experience as possible while this internship lasts and I tell you, with that story I’ll go viral on TikTok. Just because I got a medium severe concussion and a wound, which hopefully will leave a badass scar, doesn’t mean you have to apologize. But you can do me one favor.” “Anything.” “When I fall asleep, please make sure I don’t choke on my own vomit. The doctor told me it could happen, that’s why I am not allowed to fall asleep unsupervised. But I haven’t slept in three days and I think I'm beginning to feel uncomfy because of that.”

Smiling softly Hotch nods and lets the teenager take her original place in his lap. Minutes later she is fast asleep. But one thing is certain: As soon as she wakes up and feels any better, she is going to tell everybody who wants to listen about the one time where she got blown up by a fifteen years old girl, who was married to a cult leader. And nobody is gonna believe her tea. Except for Penelope, who greets (Y/N) with a hug and the promise to never let her out of her eyesight.

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

Spencer Reid:

@calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x teen!reader #derek morgan x teen!reader #jennifer jareau x teen!reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #david rossi x teen!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #Criminal Minds #x teen!reader #reader insert

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startanewdream · 3 years

Text

The road home

Summary: Lily watches Harry and Ginny finding their way back to each other following the end of the war.

Note: For @madhulika18, who asked for more Hinny moments as seen by James and Lily. I could never decide if this is really part of Eyes Glistening (because Harry and Ginny have drama really, and I don't like them having drama), but it works either way, so I hope you enjoy these moments (also, I have a soft spot for Lily and Harry talking, so...)

_______

It’s all about the words that aren’t being said.

Once, a long time ago, Lily lived that with James. But it was different and, though, of course, it didn’t seem like that at the time, it was easier too. Her problems were unknowing her feelings, not understanding why she enjoyed his company and why she craved his smile, his light. She had fancied him for a long time before she understood what it was what she really felt for him — and until then it was only her heart beating faster when they would touch each other without meaning too (a brush of hands, sitting together closer than necessary), enjoying the perfume he’d left on his trace, finding excuses to be with him.

But after she had understood what she felt for him, somehow it had been easy. Awkward, sure, that first date when she was feeling stupid near him — until she remembered this was James, and being with him was good and blissful and then kissing him had felt as natural as breathing —, but there was never a question about how they felt about each other, never doubts that they would be together.

They had fought over many things, until they perfected the art of compromising, of understanding each other’s view, but there was never a breakup, never something that really kept them apart.

They are lucky on this, she knows.

Especially when she sees the look on Harry’s face, the way his eyes can’t help but follow Ginny as she walks around between the tables of the Great Hall, stopping to share words with her friends.

They haven’t talked yet. Lily knows this because Harry was gone with Ron and Hermione after the battle and then he slept for a full day. When he woke up, he called his parents and they talked then — the most difficult conversation Lily had ever had in her life and the one she knew she needed most. She and James. They needed to understand what had happened, why it had cost Harry’s life and what it had meant, but nothing had really prepared her to know her son had died.

Only the thought of it sends shivers through her body.

Harry is fine now, having come down to the Great Hall to lunch; there are fewer people at Hogwarts two days after the Battle, so they manage to find a place for them to sit quietly. It’s almost peaceful.

Except Harry is clearly not at peace.

‘Go talk to her,’ she whispers to him, and Harry turns to her with those eyes that are full of ghosts lately — he has seen and lived and died too much.

‘She doesn’t want me,’ he answers, breathing heavily as if the words are physically hurting him.

‘How do you know?’ James asks, exchanging a confused look with Lily.

‘Because she hasn’t come to talk to me.’

Lily thinks Harry didn’t go to her either, so maybe this is just a case of miscommunication. But she doesn’t say anything, because she believes things have to happen at the right time. And she has been watching Ginny too; every time Harry looks the other way, she glances in his direction, an expression on her face that Lily cannot understand exactly.

It seems to be ablaze.

_______

Later, Lily will define it as a dance where the dancers aren’t supposed to touch each other but still they synchronize their steps perfectly.

It’s unnerving, really, and she doesn’t know how they are really managing it, but if there is a quality she could attribute to both Harry and Ginny is stubbornness.

They can’t ignore each other, not really, not with how much they encounter each other — funerals and homages and dinners over the Burrow and rebuilding Hogwarts —, so instead they adopt a sort of relationship that’s just a shadow of how much they got along together.

Lily saw them before they even dated or had acknowledged their feelings for each other, and Harry and Ginny had shined together with chemistry as if they were two ingredients in a potion that demanded to be together. It was only friendship but there was sparkle and understanding and compassion and brightness. Lily remembers thinking that even if they didn’t develop romantic feelings for each other, they were truly soulmates.

And this is just one of the reasons why their current formal courtesy with each other bothers her so much. If they wanted to be only friends, there wasn’t much she could do. But they are not even friends lately, just two people who had gone through so much and hadn’t been able to share anything with each other despite wanting very much.

That’s the other thing that annoys her. They want more. Both of them.

She knows Harry, of course — he shares the same expressions and he wears his feelings on the same sleeve Lily does, so it’s easy —, and Lily likes to think she knows Ginny too, for the times they met, for all they’ve talked and for the fact that Ginny is usually blatant on her feelings when they are at the edge.

Usually. This time, it seems their stubbornness is getting the better of both of them.

They are alone most of the days of May. Hermione has gone to Australia to find her parents and Ron went with her, and Lily thinks this would be perfect for them to get together again – to have time to talk and to truly live their relationship without the threat of a storm above their heads.

But they don’t go to each other. They stay apart, even though Lily sees the cracks in their stubbornness when Harry breaks a glass after hearing Ginny talking about exchanging letters with an ex-boyfriend, and when Ginny suddenly leaves the room after Harry mentions Kingsley’s proposal to start the Aurors course.

James sees it too. He is always frowning when they are in the same room, and Lily knows no one rooted more for that relationship than James. So she is not surprised that he approaches her one morning when they are cleaning the mess the Death Eaters made in her office.

‘Do you remember when you forbade me from intervening in Harry’s love life?’ he asks in a nonchalant voice, cleaning a stain that looks a lot like blood on the carpet.

Lily nods with her head.

‘Maybe it’s time to change that rule?’ James asks then, now sounding hopeful.

Lily throws him the briefest of the looks, without turning away her attention from the cauldrons she is supposed to check if anything is worth saving.

‘Harry would hate it if we did anything.’

‘Harry would hate it if he knew we were doing anything.’

‘And James Potter can be discreet? How many detentions did you get just because you couldn’t help but flaunt your work?’

He raises his eyebrows challengingly.

‘That Slug Club dinner on my birthday. I was so discreet no one ever found out what we were doing.’

Lily blushes. He was absurdly quiet that night, indeed, despite her attempts otherwise.

‘Fine, you’ve got a point. Go on, but I’m warning you, if Ginny realizes what you are trying to do, she will hex you and I won’t stop.’

‘As long as she hexes me on their wedding day, I won’t complain,’ James says unabashedly, and Lily has to grin.

She is not feeling much confident — James’ love plans took him three years to her agree to date him, after all, and even then she had fallen in love with him when he had given up on any plan at all —, but she can’t deny James is creative and it’s better trying anything than watching Harry sigh all over the place, heartbroken and unhappy.

During the year they were out, their house has been searched over and over; their furniture is broken and there are spots of red ink — or blood — in every room, with curses or slurs written on every wall. They could just easily destroy the house and build a new one, but it feels good to clean the place; it feels like a new beginning.

Maybe this is what James is hoping to give Harry and Ginny because he asks for her help in rebuilding their house. Ginny accepts surprisingly quickly, probably guessing that Harry will still be occupied with the work at Hogwarts.

‘Thanks for the help,’ Lily says after she and Ginny manage to clean the debris away from the stairs, so now the first floor is available for them to start cleaning up the rooms.

‘No problem, it’s good to be out of the house,’ Ginny notes, drying the sweat on her face. ‘Sometimes it feels… too claustrophobic there.’

Lily raises her eyebrows, indicating around the hall, where the number of things still to be organized makes the corridor seem a lot smaller than it is. Ginny gives a small chuckle.

‘It’s just — Mom is trying to compensate, I think. Ron is not here and I am the youngest and she needs to take care of something, after — after everything that happened. So, yeah, I need some time to myself.’

‘Are you sure there is nothing else you would like to do?’ Lily asks, concerned now. Ginny just shrugs.

‘Since I can’t fly, this seems like the best available option,’ she says. ‘And it feels good to be doing something — and there is so much to do here. The Death Eaters made a mess.’

‘That could be said for everywhere.’

‘And everyone,’ Ginny adds softly, and she returns to the cabinet she is trying to fix without saying anything further, but Lily doesn’t think she needs to. She saw Neville’s bruises, she saw Luna’s scars and she has a pretty good idea of how it was at Hogwarts under Voldemort’s regime.

But Ginny keeps her marks quietly, and Lily knows there is only one person she will be able to talk to.

The next day, James comes home earlier from Hogwarts with Harry. There is an awkward moment when Harry and Ginny meet in the kitchen and James mentions that now the main work over Hogwarts is done, Harry volunteered to help get his home back again.

‘Any problem?’ James asks genially, making both Harry and Ginny jump.

‘No,’ they say at the same time, and it doesn’t convince anyone.

Lily never noticed how big their house was until she realizes Harry and Ginny still manage to avoid each other except during mealtimes, so she decides they can get past subtlety. She and James start to ask them for help for the same rooms until they eventually are paired in the same tasks.

She doesn’t hear them talking, but it seems to work, albeit at the slowest pace ever.

‘You won’t believe who asked Sirius for an interview,’ James says one night after they settled for the day and they are having dinner before Ginny returns to her house. ‘Rita Skeeter.’

‘What scoop does she want now?’ Harry asks, rolling his eyes. ‘I am still awaiting her biography about me.’

‘What will be called?’, Ginny asks, and Harry turns to her with his eyes already shining with the joke.

‘Easy. Harry Potter, chosen or undesirable one?’

She laughs – it’s a short tentative laugh, but it’s there, and Harry smiles too. James exchanges a look with Lily, but she shakes her head warningly to him.

‘What Skeeter wanted with Sirius?’ she asks, putting the conversation back into place. It was just a shared joke. There is still a long road ahead.

‘Oh, gossip on you and me, actually, which unfortunately is something Sirius thinks it’s too funny to pass – and also he has a soft spot for Skeeter.’

Harry chokes on his drink.

‘Soft spot?’

‘Oh, please, don’t tell me –‘ Ginny raises her eyebrows, exchanging a bewildered look with Harry. ‘Sirius and Rita Skeeter?’

James chuckles.

‘No, he just likes her because of the animagus stuff. He says he can’t fault her for being one.’

‘Oh, much better,’ Ginny sighs. Then she bits her lip before looking back at Harry. ‘Can you imagine them together? Rita Skeeter as your godmother?’

‘I would have to quit Sirius from his job as godfather,’ Harry says, pretending to gag. ‘He would clearly be underqualified.’

There is another small giggle and that’s it for the night.

They are talking again at least, even if it is still not like it used to be. There are no whispered words during their time together during the day and they don’t seem to be secretly snogging. But they talk sometimes, and once or twice Lily hears a laugh when she passes the room they are in.

But it’s only two weeks later that something seems to happen.

Lily is in her room, finishing to set up the bed so she and James will finally be able to sleep there, when the voices catch her up on her window.

‘You are bleeding.’

‘It’s just a cut, Harry, no big deal.’

‘It was a splinter, there can still be something there.’

‘I told you, I took everything off. I will just press it, it will stop bleeding in a minute.’

‘I can help you, I – I know a lot of healing spells.’

There is a pause.

‘Me too, but I also know that the bleeding will stop. It’s not deep.’

‘How do you –‘

‘Same way you know, Harry.’ There is a note of tension in Ginny’s voice. ‘I had to learn.’

‘Ginny –‘

‘What? Do you think you were the only one who had a hard time?’

And she storms inside, giving him no time to answer.

Harry is subdued that night, even more reserved than natural, and when she passes his room late at night, she sees the light is on. For a second Lily wonders if she should call James, but then she sighs and knocks on his door.

‘Harry?’

In answer, the door opens quietly. Lily enters his room to see Harry fully clothed on his bed; he is holding something and, with a start, she realizes it’s the Marauder’s Map. That’s a weird thing for Harry to be consulting in the middle of the night.

‘Can’t sleep?’ she asks, sitting on the edge of his bed and running her hand through his hair comfortingly. He shrugs. ‘Anything to do with that fight with Ginny?’

He raises his eyebrows.

‘Hearing behind doors, Mum?’

‘No need, you were talking under my window.’

‘Next fight I will make sure we are far,’ he says with a grimace.

‘There will be a next fight?’

‘I don’t know,’ he admits, and this prospect doesn’t seem to make him better. ‘If I asked you something, would you be honest with me?’

‘Wasn’t I always, Harry?’

He smiles for a second before his expression is grave and uncertain.

‘Do you think I am self-centred?’

Lily blinks.

‘No one would accuse you of being selfish, Harry, I mean –’

She doesn’t know where to begin, considering all the sacrifices she had seen Harry make over the years — he gave his life —, but Harry shakes his head.

‘Not selfish, I mean – the summer after my fourth year, when Voldemort was back, I said plenty of things –’

‘You were under a lot of stress, no one –’

‘I know, but I was complaining about how everything happened to me and now I am thinking that maybe, somehow, I never stopped to think that things happen to other people too.’

Lily squeezes his hand.

‘It is not a suffering competition, Harry.’

‘I don’t know if I see it that way. I mean, when I saw Neville for the first time, with all his bruises and looking so hurt, I still wished it could be me, staying at Hogwarts and fighting because it seemed easier and it never occurred to me that she could – they could – have had a difficult time too. It still seemed… just school.’

He pauses to pick up the Marauder’s Map, opening it even if there is no map showing there.

‘I used to take the Map last year to watch over her,’ he whispers, his face flushing. ‘And I saw her dot and I never thought that she could be in trouble. I knew they were rebelling, but… it didn’t feel like it was something real.’

‘Well, that’s why you should talk to each other. None of you will understand if you keep avoiding each other.’

‘She is mad at me.’

‘Of course she is. You are avoiding her.’

He doesn’t answer.

‘You need to talk, Harry. Go there. Try it.’

He blinks, a hint of a smile on his lips.

‘Are you suggesting that I go visit my ex-girlfriend in the middle of the night?’

‘I’m pretty sure you will just talk if she doesn’t hex you first,’ Lily says brightly. Then she smiles softly. ‘You could wait until tomorrow, Harry, but I have the feeling you both have been waiting too long. And this isn’t any of your styles. You are both people of action.’

Harry grins now, standing up.

‘I will go then. Thanks for the tip, Mum.’

Lily accepts the soft kiss he gives her on the cheek.

‘Just be safe, Harry.’

_______

Harry seems to be in a better mood the next morning, despite the fact that he slept a few hours that night — Lily knows he returned by five, just as the sun was rising.

But she doesn’t say anything, just smiling to herself when Harry’s face lights up when the fireplace erupts into emerald flames and Ginny appears, dusting her clothes. They exchange a look that it’s still not there yet, but it’s soft and promising. James looks in her direction, surprised, and she promises to explain later.

It’s not Summer yet, but the days of May and then June get warmer and then Harry and Ginny are spending more time outside, though there isn’t much to fix there.

At least, not material things.

James keeps an eye on them — he wouldn’t resist not doing so —, telling her that most of the time they just seem to be taking long strolls and talking.

One day they return from their walk holding hands, and Lily has to lock James inside the room so he doesn’t say anything. Harry and Ginny are still not there.

The road home takes time.

On the second weekend of June they have the hottest day yet and they take some time off; James transfigures a pool in the backyard that neither Harry nor Ginny seems to enjoy other than to sit at the edge of the pool and take off their shoes to wet their feet. Instead of helping to ease any tension, the pool seems to create some weight over them, making them more silent than usual, so James suggests they go flying instead.

‘My Firebolt is gone,’ Harry remembers, wincing, and Lily knows it’s not the broomstick he is really missing right now. Harry lost a friend that day.

‘Mine was burnt by the Carrows last year,’ Ginny adds, her voice casual as if it’s nothing important.

They don’t end up doing anything after that.

In the afternoon, James gets a call from Sirius and Lily decides to just stay home, finishing the Wolfsbane Potions she will need to deliver to Remus by the end of the week. She is quietly lost in her favourite potion world when she hears the voices, and it’s just because they are whispering, rather than talking normally, that it draws her attention.

‘Are you sure?’ Ginny is asking, her voice unusually hesitant.

‘Only if you are,’ he whispers, sounding just as unstable.

Lily approaches the window and withdraws the curtains as little as she needs. Harry and Ginny are still by the pool, standing facing each other, and without looking away from Harry, she takes off her shirt, to reveal her bikini under it.

Harry gasps, but Lily knows that what is taking his breath away are the marks on Ginny’s torso — faint scars of cuts and small yellowed bruises that remained from the battle, over a month ago.

Ginny bits her lip, her arms trembling as if she wants to cover herself. Harry finally takes a step in her direction, looking her in the eyes now.

'Thank you for showing me,’ he whispers and then he sighs. 'My turn'.

His hands are shaking as he goes to unbutton his shirt, until Ginny raises her hands.

'May I?'

Harry nods slowly.

Ginny keeps her head high, not looking away from Harry's eyes, until she finishes opening all the buttons from his shirt and taking it off.

Then her eyes fall to his chest and Ginny freezes.

Lily knows what she is seeing, even though Lily can't see it from her angle: Harry's new lightning scar, across his chest, over his heart, where the Killing Curse hit him for the second time in his life.

'Harry,’ Ginny sighs, pain evident in her voice. She raises her hand, looking at him, questioning him silently. Harry nods once more.

Then Ginny takes a step closer to him, touching his chest, and Lily knows that she must be feeling his heart over it.

She lets the curtain fall and returns to her potion.

She is not surprised when they return home holding hands and she only tells James later (so he doesn't say anything during dinner because she knows her husband) that Ginny kissed Harry softly on the lips when she thought no one was seeing them.

#Hinny #Jily Lives AU #Hinny Fanfiction #Eyes glistening #T: Fanfiction

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allthatyoulove · 3 years

Text

Potions and Fireworks

Fred Weasley / Reader

This is a sequel! (Click here to read the first part: Butterflies and Flowers!)

Summary: You wake up next to Fred Weasley, only hours after he confessed his feelings for you.

Includes: fluff, cussing maybe, lots of kissing

Words: 3.1k

A/N: Here's part two! I was so excited to write this one, sorry it took a while! Please check out my prompt list! You can request as many prompts as you’d like! Hope you enjoy the story! Feel free to leave any feedback and please let me know of any warnings or errors I missed, thanks for stopping by :)

I woke to the sound of birds chirping outside of the window. My eyes opened, squinting as they came into focus of the room around me. It was cold outside- which made it quite cold in the room as well. There was a light morning fog across the water surrounding the school as the sun began to rise. A few voices of the people in the common rooms below could be heard faintly. I began to stretch, turning to face the ceiling.

Before I realized I had an arm wrapped around my waist.

Fred’s arm.

I had a moment of panic before I recalled the events of last night.

I was thankful I decided to cut myself off after 5 drinks, being able to remember mostly everything. My face heated and my heart fluttered as I remembered helping Fred to bed last night and the confessions he made along the way.

“Did you like the flowers?”

“I really really like you”

“Just kiss tomorrow, eh?”

Part of the panic was over whether Fred truly felt that way when he woke up sober. However, the panic was miniscule in comparison to the excitement I felt over the day ahead. I didn’t get a chance to think too far ahead, however, before the twin laying next to me began to stir. He placed his head against my back, letting out a small grunt. I rubbed my hands up and down his arms that were wrapped around my waist as he pulled me into him, as much as he could. He was shirtless, which meant he had to have taken it off at some point as we slept.

The butterflies in my stomach only increased as he still seemed to be asleep. He was breathing softly, his heartbeat against my back. I carefully turned myself around, facing him. His eyelids were fluttering lightly, his brows furrowed. I smiled to myself, running my hand through his hair. I started to drift back to sleep, my hand on Fred’s cheek. The sound of his breathing, with the birds chirping outside the window convinced me I was in some afterlife. I felt so peaceful as I began to doze off. Before I even realized I was falling asleep, however, I felt someone place a kiss on my palm.

My eyes fluttered open, seeing Fred smirking at me as he held my hand in his, placing kisses all over it.

“‘Morning” He said, his voice raspy from sleep.

I smiled back at him drowsily, my eyes failing to remain open. I snuggled further into the pillow, feeling Fred scooch even closer to me. He placed a kiss on my forehead before pulling me in against his chest, resting his head on top of mine. I was trying to fight the sleep threatening to overtake me, but I was too comfortable and too happy to not give in. My eyes shut once again, shutting out the world around me as well.

---

I suddenly woke up again, in the same position as I fell asleep. I was cradled against Fred’s chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart. I slowly raised my head, seeing the room brightly lit up. The sun was shining. I tried to sneakily unravel myself from Fred’s arms, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

The sun was shining.

My head shot over to the clock on the wall, reading the time.

10:47 am.

Shit shit shit shit shit

I rubbed my eyes, being hit with a sudden wave of awareness. I looked around, seeing that I was still in my clothes from last night. My mind was racing. We missed the first period, and we would miss the second if we didn’t hurry.

I turned around, shuffling on the bed to Fred’s side on my knees. I shook him lightly, calling his name.

“Fred. Fred!” I whisper-shouted. I didn’t want to startle him, but we needed to hurry.

“Hmm?” He said, shoving his face further into the pillow. I continued to shake him.

“It’s Friday, Fred. We’ve got school!”

He turned himself around, pulling me onto him so I was straddling him. He wrapped his arms around me, gently bringing me down into his chest once again.

“Mmm...let’s just stay in bed today.” He said into my hair, placing a kiss on the crown of my head. I continued to try and get him out of bed, no matter the butterflies that were in my stomach. I lifted myself up, planting my hands on either side of his face. He raised his eyebrows in suggestion, smirking. I rolled my eyes, about to speak before he beat me to it.

“Give me a kiss.” He said, his eyes falling to my lips. I licked them subconsciously, smiling back at him.

“I’ll give you a kiss if you get out of bed,” I said, sitting up straight. He squirmed underneath me, seeming to take in the position we were in. I smiled at his sudden nervousness, getting up. He tried to reach for me to bring me back to him, but he was too slow from having just woken up. He groaned and rubbed his eyes before sitting up. He pouted at me as I smiled, turning to go to my dresser. I searched for a clean pair of clothes and robes as I felt him watch me. I glanced behind me to see him sitting against the headboard, his hands behind his head.

He looked so, so good.

And his morning voice…

I was failing in not getting tempted to run back into bed with him. He purposefully put his hands behind his head, the sheets of the bed resting just below his hips. Two could play in that game.

I lifted my own shirt over my head, throwing it to a corner of the room as I turned to grab the plain shirt I had picked out. As soon as I turned, I heard the bed creak as Fred got up and practically ran over to me, crouching down to wrap his arms around my waist. He started to kiss my neck, mumbling between each kiss.

“Such. A. Tease. Aren’t you?” He asked, burying his head into my neck. My hand went to his hair as I laughed. He spun me around, leaning in for a kiss before I stopped him.

“Where are your manners, Weasley?” I asked, walking to the bathroom- still shirtless.

He watched me as I began to brush my teeth. He sauntered over and did the same, looking at me with a smile through the mirror. A bit of toothpaste fell onto my chest, and he wasted no time at all.

“Oh no! Let me help you with that.” He said, his mouth attaching to my chest, where the toothpaste had fallen. I let out a laugh as I playfully pushed him away. He just grinned and winked at me, continuing to brush his teeth. I finished before him, rinsing my mouth out and wiping my chest off before walking back over to the dresser. His eyes followed me the entire way, just watching. I had my back turned to him as he finished, putting my arms through the button up shirt every student was required to wear.

I heard him finish up, making his way back over to me. I didn’t have time to button it up before he spun me around to face him.

“Now do I get a kiss?” He asked, licking his lips as his eyes fell over my own.

“Mmm...Let me think about it.” I said, pretending to be deep in thought. He groaned playfully, laughing as he put his head on my shoulder. I reached behind me to grab his tie as I laughed with him. When he picked his head back up, ready to complain, I wrapped the tie around the back of his neck and used it to pull him in for a kiss.

He held his breath for a second before he brought his hands up to my face, pulling me closer to him. He inhaled through his nose, the taste of mint on his lips. My face heated and the infamous butterflies came back once again, always seeming to be there when I’m around him.

We finally pulled away, smiling drunkenly off of the kiss and each other. I let go of the tie, finally buttoning up my shirt. His eyes darkened as he watched me, his hands dropping from my face to loosely rest on my hips. I turned to grab for my tie before he stopped me, taking his own off of his neck and putting it instead around mine.

“What’re you doing, Fred?” I asked, looking up at him as he started to tie it for me with an innocent smile.

“Wear my tie today.” He said softly, smiling as he finished tying it. He put his hands on his hips, standing back to proudly stare at his work.

“They’re gonna notice it’s yours.” I said, raising my eyebrows at him. The boys’ ties had smaller stripes than the girls’, with more of the color red showing.

“Good.” He said, leaning in to give me a few quick kisses. I smiled at him before remembering what time it was and that we were already late.

“Alright Weasley, you’ve got to go get dressed. I’ve got to get to class, I can’t miss potions. Snape will be furious.” I said, bringing my hands up to his hair and lightly scratching. He leaned into my touch as he groaned out an agreement. He gave me another long kiss before he left.

---

I walked into potions with Hermione, who seemed completely fine for someone who was dancing on the tables last night. We were laughing about it as we took our seats for the lecture. Ginny came in seconds before class started, wearing glasses. She slammed her books down next to us, then winced as she sat down with an oof. Hermione and I exchanged looks, laughing at her.

“You alright, Gin?” Hermione asked, trying to stop laughing at her. Ginny shot her a glare, putting her head in her arms on the table. We decided to leave her alone while she slept. The lecture began on time, Snape teaching us how to make Everlasting Elixirs, which I had learned from the textbook a while ago. I spun my pencil between my fingers, my mind wandering.

I hope Fred had gotten to his class on time. I hadn’t seen him after we said our goodbyes, and we wouldn’t be seeing each other until lunch. Which was….

In 3 hours.

I sighed, holding back a yawn. Hermione was studying for another class, while Ginny was still asleep. I had to nudge her a couple times when she would start to snore, trying to make sure she didn’t get caught. Snape didn’t leave the front of the room, thankfully. I was bored out of my mind, checking the clock every minute to see it had barely moved. Time was going by agonizingly slow. I was about to put my own head down when I saw Hermione staring at me from the corner of my eye. I turned to her, seeing her looking at my neck. My heart dropped.

He didn’t leave any hickeys, did he? No. He couldn’t have. I would have noticed them. Right?

“What is it, Hermione?” I asked her. Her mouth dropped as she smiled, looking between me and my neck. I started to blush as I waited for her to say something.

“Is that… Fred’s tie?” She whispered, leaning in closer to me.

I looked down, forgetting I was wearing it. I mentally sighed in relief that it wasn’t hickeys she was staring at, but I still had to explain the tie. The heat didn’t leave my face.

I nodded, Hermione giggling next to me. I nudged her playfully.

“Oh shut it, how was last night with Ron?” I asked her, dragging out his name and raising my eyebrows. She blushed, her face turning red. I laughed, about to ask for details before I felt something poke me on the back.

I turned my head around, seeing Neville grinning at me, red in the face. I shot him a confusing look, leaning in.

“Yeah?”

He tried to point towards the door with his eyes, not saying anything back. I furrowed my brows, looking towards the door.

I saw Fred, silently closing the door behind him. He turned around and looked at me, winking and smirking. My mouth dropped, looking towards the front of the class. Snape had his back turned, reading directly from the textbook. I whipped my head back towards Fred, seeing him crawling under the desks to get to mine. I laughed, immediately covering my mouth and getting out of my chair to join him on the floor.

“Fred! What’re you doing here?” I whisper-yelled, helping him get under the desk. He hit his head, groaning before I covered his mouth, laughing. His hand shot up to cover mine as well, trying to be silent. As our laughter died down, I could feel my face heat up over his hand placement. We slowly took our hands down at the same time, Fred smirking at me. I smiled back at him, looking at his lips before I remembered where we were. I shot my eyebrows up in a ‘well?’ look before he responded.

“Do you want to go up to the astronomy tower with me?” He whispered, out of breath.

“The astronomy tower? Now?”

“Yeah.” He said, smiling at me. I looked towards the front of the room again, seeing Snape in the same spot. I looked over at Ginny, seeing she was still passed out, and when I looked over at Hermione she was already looking at me.

“Hi Fred!” She whispered. Fred stuck his head out from under the desk.

“Hi Hermione,” He said, smiling at her before ducking back under the desk. I widened my eyes at Hermione, trying to telepathically send her an apology. She just shook her head and laughed lightly.

“Go.” She said, continuing when I shot her a confused look. “Go with Fred. I’ll cover for you.”

I was about to thank her profusely before Fred stuck his head back out, looking between Hermione and I.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” He said, smiling. I held my breath as I spoke.

“What do you mean that won’t-”

Just as I began my sentence, the doors to the classroom burst open, George flying in on a broom. I stared in shock as he flew to the very front of the classroom, setting something down before flying away to a corner of the room. Snape got out his wand, pointing it at George before we heard fireworks.

George had put fireworks in the classroom.

My head shot over to the front, the class erupting into cheers and laughter. I started to laugh with them, unbelievably shocked at what was happening. Red and Gold bursted from the floor, exploding at the top of the classroom. One after another. Fred took my hand to get my attention.

“So, whaddya say?” He asked, laughing.

“Let’s do it!” I said back to him, letting him help me out from under the desk. Ginny had woken up, extremely confused about what was happening. Hermione was trying not to laugh, but eventually gave in and scooted closer to Ginny.

Fred led me out of the class, shutting the door behind us as we started towards the astronomy tower. We occasionally had to duck behind pillars, trying to remain hidden from the staff and ghosts roaming the halls. We eventually made it, collapsing onto the floor of the tower, out of breath. We laughed as we tried to catch our breath, laughing harder everytime we looked at eachother. My adrenaline was through the roof, I couldn’t believe what had just happened.

We both sat up, Fred scooting closer to me and putting his hand on my thigh. My laughter slowly died down as he smiled at me before going in for a kiss. I kissed him back, putting my hand on top of his. He deepened the kiss, his other arm going across my back to hold me as my other hand went to his hair. His mouth trailed from my lips to my neck, kissing everywhere he could. I was breathless, closing my eyes and focusing on Fred’s lips against my neck. He brought his mouth back up to mine, giving me another small kiss before pulling away and looking at me. His hair was messed up and he looked drunk.

I loved it.

We started to laugh again, Fred collapsing on top of me.

“I can’t believe you convinced George to do that.” I said, catching my breath.

“Me neither, honestly. He owed me a favor for when I did something similar for him and Angelina, but I didn’t think he’d agree to this.” He explained.

I sat up, giggling over the redness on Fred’s lips and cheeks. I stood up, extending my hand towards him on the ground. He accepted it, jumping to his feet and walking over to the edge of the tower with me. We looked all around, seeing first years on their brooms on the ground below. The sun was shining, reflecting against the water. It was cool outside, with a breeze coming through the tower. I closed my eyes, humming as Fred came behind me to wrap his arms around me. His face went to my neck, our bodies swaying left and right together. We stayed like this for a couple minutes before he held my hands, spinning me to face him. His face turned serious before he spoke.

“I’ve something to ask you,” He said, his eyes darting between my eyes and lips. My smile stayed on my face, my heart beating faster. I didn’t have any clue what he would ask, and the serious look on his face was worrisome.

“Yes?” I asked, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. Our bodies were still lighty swaying together.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” He asked, looking into my eyes.

I couldn’t hide the huge smile that broke out on my face. Before I could even reply, he continued.

“I mean, you already snogged me…” He said, earning a slap on the arm from me. He just laughed, before holding his breath in anticipation.

“I would love to, Fred.” I said, bringing him in for another kiss.

We pulled away and looked at each other for a second, before looking back out at the view. We lowered to the ground and sat wrapped in each other’s arms for the duration of second period.

#fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fic #fred weasley #harry potter fandom #fred weasley fanfiction

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kitacco · 4 years

Text

teenage talk.

pairing: gn!reader, nanami kento.

genre: angst.

summary: a silly game and abrupt thoughts.

cw: angst, suggestive (implied), age gap.

wordcount: 3.2k.

! part two. !

when you’re twenty, you’re eager to turn any circumstance into adventures. still young, yet oblivious of the real world, you and your friends’ only wishes were to party and play.

you weren’t as wild as your friends. but after leaving your parent’s house for college, and upon meeting your friends, you had decided to let go of anything holding you back. growing up with quite strict parents, constantly watching over you, you had grown into a reserved, introvert teenager. if somebody were to ask you, till this day you didn’t know how you ended up joining this group of crazy adolescents, but you were. and it was the most fun you’d ever had.

your friends were bold, completely shameless of their desires and goals. it was no surprise that the four of them were in that age where everything unattainable looked fun, and that’s how you found yourself sitting around a table in a pretty glamorous bar. the five of you knew exactly what you were doing on that bar that night.

“you think one of us would be able to pull an old guy?” all your friends’ eyes pop open, eyeing your friend sitting right behind you. you only open your mouth, taken aback, as she giggles. “i mean, of course not some grey haired man, no, i mean, some guy in his thirties probably? you know, those ones that seem to know just enough about life, and with money and experience.”

“you mean, a good in bed guy, that could may or may not be married?”

“if that’s your type, i’m not judging you,” the table laughs, but the idea doesn’t seem to entertain you as much as it does to them.

were you scared of the idea of a guy ten years older than you? absolutely. but not only that, you were also scared of the fact you did find it thrilling at some extent.

“should we try? whoever does it first gets free dinner for a month.”

and with that ridiculous reward, you find yourself seated by the staircase, casually looking at the business men and women sharing a few drinks.

you’re alone, just like the rest of your friends, each one of them around the place, trying to find that man.

you’re not trying, of course you’re not. you’re waiting, impatiently, for one of them to go complete the mission so the rest of you can go home and simply laugh about it tomorrow as an anecdote.

you never participated in these kinds of quests, at least not actively. compared to your friends, you weren’t really that intriguing, opting to always stay on the low (not like anybody would take a chance with you either). yet, that night, all your friends are watching when a tall, blonde man approaches your much smaller figure.

he’s quick to pull out a cigarette, and your heart slows its rapid beating. it probably wasn’t a good idea to walk out to the balcony of the bar, yet there you were, and that man, the only two standing by the rails and watching the people down the bar. you don’t realize you’re eyeing him until he extends a cigarette right in front of your eyes.

“no, thank you, i don’t smoke.”

you’re sure your face has turned red. why’d you tell him you didn’t smoke? with a simple no, thank you, he would’ve taken the hint.

he doesn’t seem to mind it, though, simply chuckling as he puffs the smoke.

“aren’t you too young to be here?”

you frown, turning to face him. his back is pressed against the rail, and you’re suddenly aware of the warm exceeding from his body.

“i’m twenty,” you answer, glancing at him.

he brings a hand up, shoulders raising too.

“my bad, you seem quite young.”

“aren’t you too old to be talking to young girls, then?”

“i’m twenty-seven.”

it’s three years less, you think, and the thought calms your nerves.

“so,” he starts again. “what brings such a young girl to a bar filled with old working people?”

“for some fun, i guess.”

“oh, some fun?” he searches for your eyes, but by the time the words leave your mouth, you realize what you said. “what kind of fun?”

you hesitate. would telling him the truth be a good idea? maybe. he’ll think you’re just a silly teenager and eventually he will leave, by that time one of your friends will have found the man they’re looking for and all of you will be walking back to your apartment. it was the perfect scenario.

“my friends want to see if they can get with a business man,” you mutter, and the man’s shoulders shake, laughing quietly.

you weren’t expecting it to sound that childish, but now that he laughed, you realized how immature the game was.

“you wanna get with a business man too?”

he’s looking straight at you, the cigarette long forgotten, and so is any hint of sense within you.

you can feel your friend’s eyes on you as you walk out of the bar, following the blonde man.

he assures you he didn’t have any drinks, and opens the door of his very luxurious car, driving to his place in silence.

he’s quick, and with adrenaline pumping through you, you find yourself gasping for air, tangled between grey silk sheets on a massive bed.

when you wake up, he’s not beside you.

you don’t know the time either, as you take a peak around the room and looking for your clothes and phone you had hoped were on the floor. the light coming through the thin curtains is enough for you to know is at least past eleven in the morning, and the loud noise of keys crashing against what you’d guess was ceramic and heels against the marble floor you remember from last night, the blonde man appears through the door.

wearing a grey suit, his hair no longer messy like the last time you had seen him in the middle of the night, dress shoes and your clothes in hands. he approaches you slowly, the heels of his shoes echoing. the noise of the street barely audible, yet still present.

“good morning, had a good night?”

you smile, rolling your eyes. “sort of,” you respond.

he hums, placing the clothes on the bed right beside you.

“i washed your clothes, and found your phone, it was at least forty missed calls.”

it takes a while, but after his comment, you realize what exactly you’ve done. there was no way out of the expecting looks you’ll get from your friends once you get home, that it almost, almost, makes you wish you could stay there for a little longer.

“thank you,” you answer finally, taking the phone in your hands.

you’re quick to dress up, at this point not really minding the possibility of him staring. you had already showered - he had helped you right before sleep. the man observes you, quietly, as if there was something he was waiting to say, or for you to say, you weren’t sure.

“so, you won the bet.”

“it wasn’t a bet, told ya’,” you mutter, glancing at him. he lifts his hands, smiling. “just a quest.”

“and what were the rewards’”

“free dinner for a month,” now that you hear yourself, all this trouble really was not worth the reward. but you already did it, and to be honest, you did not regret it a single bit. you only wished he didn’t either.

“i could invite you dinner, if you’d like.”

you chuckle, perplexed at his invitation, “sounds good to me.”

it’s silent for a while, maybe two or five minutes where you look at each other. it’s not like he’s intending to do something, nor are you. he doesn’t have anything to say, you don’t either. but, it feels nice. sharing a moment with him felt nice.

it was rushed, you knew it. this man was your first encounter with a real man. you hadn’t even dated guys while in university, your last boyfriend was back when you were 12 or something. you blamed it in the lack of experience, the desire to feel loved, or appreciated. it didn’t matter, for now, all that was in your mind was him.

“i’ll drive you home, is that okay?”

you nod, unable to form a sentence as he stands tall again, walking out of the door.

it’s no surprise, and as you expected, your friends were pressed against the big window of the principal room in the apartment. you had to admit you were at fault; after sending a text through the groupchat assuring them you were alive, you also added he was driving you home. you ignored their replies, having to turn your notifications off as your phone vibrated against your lap, the man eyeing it with humor on his face, probably guessing something was up involving your friends you talked so much about.

“here it is,” you inform, the car sofly coming to a stop. he’s quick to notice the girls that are quick to hide behind the curtains.

he laughs, “they sure are eager, aren’t they?”

“yeah, they’re probably shocked.”

“shocked, why?”

“i’m not really good with these things, normally,” you say, your voice turning small as he eyes you, tilting his head as he expects you to explain why you think that way.

“then, make sure you tell them all the details.”

your face heats up, pushing yourself out of the car. he watches you, quick to grab your bag and keys. “i can’t make any promises.”

as the both of you had concluded, your friends wasted not time sitting you on the couch and making you all kind of questions till the night approached. because of this, your phone was left by your bed, silently lighting up as the man had texted you around six, asking how things were going.

“who would’ve thought,” one of your friends exclaimed, leaning against the couch by your side.

“to be honest, i saw the guy approach you, and then talk to you, but i thought you’d turn him down.”

you chuckle. honestly, you couldn’t remember why you decided to entertain the conversation and followed him into his car. it’s not like you were complaining, that had been the best decision you’d made in a while.

finally, you managed to convince the girls that you’re tired, excusing yourself from the interrogation. as much details as the man had asked you to tell, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell them exactly everything that you’d done, the embarrassment and memories taking a while to hit you, but once they did, you realized it was something you didn’t want to have a conversation about; they really didn’t need to know.

once in your room, you heard the footsteps of your friends following right behind, each one of them going to their rooms. picking up your phone, and blinded by the brightness of the screen, you saw the time, and the text awaiting you.

‘how about tomorrow’s night?’

your fingers typed fast and right after, you buried your phone under your pillow.

the following day, already afternoon, you quietly got ready. you didn’t tell your friends you exchanged numbers, nor that he’d invited you for dinner, simply telling them you were going to a get together with your classmates. it’s not like that was a lie, to some extent, they were aware you attended those kind of events with your university and extracurriculars, therefore, they didn’t question it.

after reaching the lobby of your building, you could recognize the white car parked right outside.

“missed me much?” it’s the first thing you say as you climb inside the car, smiling.

“you caught me.”

the ride is silent, like the moments you two had shared. it’s not uncomfortable, it’s not nerve-wrecking nor unbearable, it’s like the both of you enjoyed the silence shared. the radio’s playing lowly, and in no time, he parks outside a rather striking restaurant you’d never even heard about. you guessed men like him had a little more experience when it came to these kind of places.

the restaurant wasn’t full, neither empty. low, sombre lights decorated the spacious place, and a quiet, sublime sound of chords accompanied the atmosphere.

“reservation for nanami kento.”

you turn to watch him again, a little dumbfounded. that’s the first time you’ve heard his name.

following the waitress that walked you both over your table, seated by the grand windows that surrounded the restaurant, and with less light than the rest of the place, you took your seat in front of him.

“it’s the first time i heard your name.”

“oh, really?” he seems to be genuinely astounded. “i am sorry, i forgot to tell you my name.”

“how’d you forget something as important?” you laugh, taking a sip of your water.

“got my head over the moon, i guess.”

you observe him. you don’t try to understand what he says, and he doesn’t explain either, continuing with some small talk about your life.

the night goes by fast, faster than you’d wished, and to no surprise, you’re once again tangled between silk sheets, this time, both your hands wrapped around his arm, snuzzling to his warmth. the situation repeats itself at least three times a week for a month. your friends don’t ask you, and you don’t tell them either. only keeping it a secret between nanami and you.

you’re not surprised, you enjoy his company, and wish he does enjoy yours as well. you guess he does, since every friday night he’s phoning you, telling you he’s picking you up in twenty minutes, to which you’re always anticipating. awaiting the moment you get to wrap your arms around his neck and let him take over your body. not only that, after a month following the dynamic, he invites you out during the day as well, always buying you gifts or walking with you around gardens. when he embraces you, taking your lips without a sound but your breathing and beating of your heart against your chest, you smile, and let yourself fall.

stupidly, you have to add.

fall stupidly fast.

things don’t always go well, and you’re aware of that. relationships were hard enough, and whatever you two shared, was more complicated. wearing one of his shirts and with a hairband keeping the hair away from your face, you sit on the couch, thrown off by the look nanami is giving you.

“you would’ve wanted me to be married?”

“i didn’t say that,” you chuckle, but there’s no humor behind it, just complete confusion by the change of his tone. “i was just asking.”

“that’s messed up,” he mutters after a while, turning back to the movie you both were currently watching.

it was late in the night, and after the both of you had your fun, you asked him if he’d want to watch a movie with you. you were starting a new semester the following week, so there was a possibility you wouldn’t be able to each other as often as you were currently. he complied, like he always did, but then, you got a little bored of the movie, and decided to let the night cloud your thoughts and get more personal with him.

the question was absolutely innocent. he should’ve known. you simply admitted you were curious to know if he was married in the middle of that first night, driving on his car back to his place. it’s not like you were hoping for him to be having an affair with you; if that were the case you would’ve taken a step back and turned away. that’s why, once you got to his place, and confirmed he was single, you followed him. as simple as that.

nanami wasn’t drunk, maybe a little tipsy from the wine you were sharing, but not drunk. still, the question took him off guard, and the thought of you attempting to look for a married man made his blood boil a little.

“i bet your friends wanted you to fuck some married men,” he said in a whisper, but you heard him clearly.

“what? why’d you get angry all of a sudden?”

“why’d you say that then?” he stands tall, walking off to the kitchen.

you follow him though, confused as to why he was reacting that way. “i just thought we were sharing a little more about each other!”

“yeah, and you just admitted you wanted to ruin a marriage.”

“what? i never said that! why are you overreacting?”

“why are you so childish?”

the proximity of his face to yours makes you stumble back, frowning. for the first time, he seems to be genuinely angry, but you’re unable to understand the cause. still, his comment doesn’t go over your head. “i’m childish?”

he continues his way to the counter, grabbing the glass of wine he’d left behind. he doesn’t respond nor looks at you, his shoulders dropping.

“answer me.”

“you want me to answer that? you literally slept with a random men for a kid’s game, isn’t that enough for an answer?”

“no, say it again,” you insist, heavy steps drawing near him. “say it to my face.”

you think he won’t say it, you expect him not to. you’re waiting for him to snap out of it and realize he’s making a big fuss out of a misunderstanding he’s brought upon you two. of course you’re waiting for him to apologize for it, that’s the reason why you like him, because he was mature, considered, he wasn’t like guys from your classes or from high school, no, he was better. in your eyes, he was better.

“you’re childish.”

there it is.

no, you weren’t expecting it. and there’s no doubt, as your hand collides with his cheek, you’re only confirming his thought. you don’t care, in that moment, you can only think of the fact you’d thrown yourself to a man that sees you as nothing but a teenager.

“yeah, you’re right,” you mutter. “i was childish to think you were more than a one night stand.”

pulling the shirt over your head and slipping inside your jeans, you grab your phone and lash out of his apartment. he doesn’t follow you, he doesn’t call your name, and you don’t look back for one last word; like you came in, you rush out.

your friends are quick to engulf you in a tight hug, whispering to your hair and telling you he wasn’t worth your tears. you don’t cry because of him, though.

doesn’t take you long to get over it, wondering what was exactly you were crying for. quietly seated by the window as your friends bid you goodnight. you’re left contemplating the lights outside, the same lights you’d contemplate by his window.

you guess that’s what being a teenager is all about.

heartbreaks, misunderstandings, one night stands, mistakes, regrets, isn’t that you’d longed for so long? he was right after all, wasn’t it foolish to believe you’d manage to stay any longer by his side?

so, as another week ends, you find yourself leaning onto the same rails as a month ago. wearing the exact same outfit, you look around. it doesn’t take long, and like nanami did, a tall man approaches you.

and the cycle starts again.

#nanami kento angst #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen x reader #tw. age gap

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auramindedd · 3 years

Text

Drunk Thoughts and Feelings - SMAU*

Part 17

CorpseHusband x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, mentions of alcohol & alcohol consumption

A/N: summer started for me a while ago, but i wanted to take some time for myself. finally gonna be posting a lot more frequently! i’m super excited. also, taglist will be updated soon, i just have to go through all my posts and i haven’t really had time to do that. will try my best to get to it as quickly as i can :)

*links aren’t working for me, AGAIN, so i’ll update this and other posts when they do work!*

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•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You plop down on a stool at the kitchen counter, contemplating even answering the door.

First of all, it could just be a package. If anything, they’ll leave it at the door. No need for human interaction.

Second of all, you don’t want to answer the door. The only thing that can happen is the person at the door will keep ringing the doorbell or knocking, but eventually, they’ll leave.

Lastly, it could be Corpse. Corpse jokes around all the fucking time, but who’s to say he’s joking now? He lives in San Diego, and for all you know, he could live five minutes away from you. He did say he’s literally here.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, the doorbell rings. You get up to look through the peephole, making sure it’s not someone trying to rob you.

A tall, broad figure stands there, their head down. Their hair is dark and curly, fluffy too. They’re holding a small gift bag in their left hand, their right hand still on the doorbell. You look down to their hoodie, and your heart drops to your ass...

Slowly, you unlock the door, opening it up just a bit.

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest, leaving you speechless. “I won’t rob you, Y/N.”

You open the door all the way, letting him in. You’d be your bubbly, outgoing self right now, but there was nothing that could’ve had you prepared enough for Corpse standing at your apartment door.

“Uh- sorry, I just didn’t expect this.” You gesture for him to sit on the stool next you.

“This is for you.” He passes the small gift bag to you.

“Corpse, I swear, if you wasted a shit ton of money on me...” You slowly open the bag, not wanting that to be the case.

Getting the small jewelry box out, you give him a stern look. He nods his head, urging you to open it faster. Finally, you open it. There’s a frog ring in it. Corpse puts his hand over the box and you see the matching one on his finger.

Honestly, the fact that he remembered the short interaction you guys had about frog rings means a lot to you - more than the gift itself.

“Can I give you a hug?” You ask him. He opens his arms, standing up from the stool. You jump into his arms, almost knocking him over. Corpse wraps his arms around you, radiating warmth and you feel safe in them.

Rae and Brooke walk in. Of course you’d forget to lock the door.

“Okay, wow! Hey, Corpse!” Rae places the bags of snacks down, Brooke following suit behind her.

Awkwardly, you and Corpse stop hugging. He rubs the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes. Cute.

***

The fact that right now all of you are laughing your asses off, telling stories, talking about anything, and just getting through the night so quickly, it’s crazy. It’s crazy how comfortable everyone is with each other. You honestly thought it would take you a while to get used to Corpse being here, but you don’t want him to leave.

You guys have gotten through bottles of alcohol and now you’re all tired, completely worn out from all the laughing. Brooke and Rae head to bed.

“Thank you for having me, Y/N.” Before Corpse can get up from the couch, you stop him.

Slightly giggling, you hold him back. “You’re not driving drunk, dumbass.”

He sighs, leaning back into the couch. You watch as his eyes get heavier, his breathing becoming even.

“Come on,” While you are a lot smaller than he is, you still do your best to walk him to your room. You hold his arm around your shoulder, practically carrying him.

After what feels like ages, you reach your room. You carefully place him on your bed, letting him get comfortable.

“I didn’t bring any extra clothes.” Corpse slurs, opening his eyes slightly, only to be blinded by the lights in your room.

You burst into a fit of laughter as he covers his eyes quickly, complaining about how bright it is. You turn the lights off, leaving only your fairy lights on.

“You don’t need extra clothes, Corpse. Just go to sleep.” You grab a blanket from your closet.

Corpse opens his eyes fully. “Where are you going?”

“To the living room.”

“No, stay here.” He lifts up the blanket that had been placed on top of him, scooting over to create space.

You shake your head, “Corpse, I’ll be okay.”

“But I won’t be. Stay, please?” He juts out his bottom lip, and that might just be the cutest thing he’s ever done.

Knowing he’s drunk and that once he wakes up, he’ll forget any of this happened, you decide to get in next to him. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Honestly, you’d do anything to be able to experience this every night.

Maybe it’s just your drunk thoughts and feelings...

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist - comment or message me to be added!

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Tags - ignore::

#corpse #corpse fic #corpse husband #corpse husband fic #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse husband smau #corpse husband social media au #corpse husband imagine

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junghelioseok · 4 years

Text

clandestine. | 03

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 9.2k [3/6]

notes: this will likely be my last update of this fic until the new year, because i have two (2!!!) other fics that i’m planning to post in december, including another jungoo one, so! please look forward to those, and enjoy this chapter in the meantime!

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink: a recurring yet warranted warning, me absolutely fucking up everything about korea’s geography probably, semi-public? fingering???, jungkook....... shall we say, rocks the boat, there is one (1) dick pic but no one’s complaining

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

Monday - 11:27am

Kim Taehyung added you to the group: the great escape!!!!!! 🏝🚗💨

[11:27am] Taehyung: let’s gooooooooooo!!

[11:27am] Jisoo: ???

[11:28am] Lisa: go where?

[11:28am] Taehyung: parks lake house this weekend! we’re going on vacation!

[11:28am] You: hold up tae, we haven’t even asked our parents if we can have the house yet

[11:29am] Chimchim: oh yeah lmao

[11:29am] Chimchim: u wanna go ask noona??

[11:29am] You: nope

[11:30am] Chimchim: ugh, fine

[11:30am] Chimchim: u big baby

[11: 31am] You: 🙄

[11: 37am] Chimchim: they said yes!

[11:38am] Taehyung: LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

[11:38am] Minho: sweet 👍

[11:38am] Taemin: tight

[11:39am] Jungkook: dope

[11:40AM] Jisoo: you’re all idiots 🙄

Tuesday - 2:34pm

[2:34pm] Chimchim: i’ve secured the van

[2:34pm] Chimchim: for the trip i mean

[2:35pm] Taehyung: noice

[2:35pm] You: 10 people aren’t gonna fit in mom’s van, chim

[2:37pm] Jungkook: i can drive too

[2:37pm] Chimchim: 👍👍

[2:37pm] Chimchim: see? nothing to worry about

[2:38pm] Jungkook: yeah noona, nothing to worry about. nothing at all.

Wednesday - 9:49pm

[9:49pm] Taehyung: oh my god we need FOOD

[9:49pm] Lisa: you’re just realizing that now?

[9:50pm] Taehyung: shut up

[9:50pm] Taehyung: i have a cooler

[9:51pm] Lisa: and ice?

[9:51pm] Taehyung: ………… i will buy some ice

[9:52pm] You: there’s a grocery store on the way up that we always used to go to, we can stock up there

[9:52pm] Taehyung: 👍

[9:54pm] You: you also better remember to bring your own towels. and more than one change of clothing

[9:54pm] Taehyung: 👍👍

[9:55pm] Chimchim: yes, mom

///

The day of the trip finds you standing in the foyer, rifling through your purse to make sure you have all the essentials. Off in the distance, you can hear Jimin sprinting around frantically, catching the briefest glimpse of his ruffled blond hair before he disappears again into the depths of the house.

“Chim, I swear to god. Why didn’t you pack earlier?”

“I did!” your brother whines, poking his head out from the living room where his suitcase is lying wide open, belongings scattered in every direction. “It’s just that—oh, fuck. Do you have my toothbrush?”

“Why would I have your toothbrush?” you deadpan.

He ignores you, and not two seconds later, he lets out an excited shout. “Never mind! I found it!”

You sigh and rub your temples. The trip hasn’t even begun, yet you’re already feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “I’m going outside,” you call to your brother, who grunts in acknowledgement. Opening up the front door, you drag your suitcase out onto the sun-drenched porch, relishing the welcome breeze that caresses your cheeks and whispers through your hair.

The rare moment of peace is broken almost immediately by the rumble of a starting engine—the sound shuddery and wavering before it finally evens out into a steady, mechanical purr. It’s coming from nearby, and your gaze immediately travels to the neighboring driveway where a beat-up sedan sits, torn between exasperation and amusement when you see Jungkook waving at you from the driver’s seat.

“I’m coming to pick you up!” he calls through the open window, and you hold back your laughter as he reverses out of his driveway, rolls ten feet down the street, and pulls into yours.

“Was that really necessary?” you ask once he’s parked.

“Of course it was,” he replies, hopping out to grab your suitcase. You watch as he pops the trunk and loads it inside, and blanch when you realize what that means.

“Wait a second. Am I riding with you?”

Some emotion flashes across his face, but he wipes it away before you can identify it. “Would that be so terrible?”

It’s been one week since Taehyung’s party, and Jisoo’s warning still rings loud and clear in your brain. Still, you feign nonchalance and tamp down the uptick in your heart rate, offering him a shrug. “Just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

He grunts. An awkward silence settles over you as he adjusts your suitcase in the trunk beside his, and you distract yourself by fiddling with your purse strap until he slams the lid closed.

“So…” you start after a few seconds. “Are we picking anyone else up?”

“Yugyeom,” Jungkook replies, opening up the driver’s side door and climbing in. Hesitantly, you make your way over to the other side of the car, wondering if there’s any way you can avoid sitting in the passenger seat without looking like a total weirdo.

“Oh! Jungkook’s here already?” Jimin exits the house at last, lugging his suitcase and a smaller backpack. He shoves both into the backseat of your mother’s van before coming over, frowning when he sees you hovering near the trunk. “Why are you just standing there?”

You make a face at him. “We’re waiting for you, dumbass. Who’s riding with you?”

“Tae, Minho, and Taemin,” your brother replies. “Didn’t you see the group chat this morning?”

“I muted it days ago,” you admit. “You guys were annoying as hell.” Then another thought strikes you, your brain belatedly registering the names Jimin listed. “Wait, what about the girls? Aren’t they coming?”

Your brother rolls his eyes. “Jisoo’s working as a camp counselor this summer, and Lisa has other vacation plans. Maybe if you hadn’t muted the chat, you’d have known that.”

He has a point, though you aren’t about to admit that. You’re also wise enough not to inquire about the third member of the trio, remembering Jisoo’s revelation at the party. It’s no surprise that Chaeyoung isn’t joining you for the weekend—you’d want to avoid extended periods of time with your ex-boyfriend too. At the thought, your gaze reluctantly flits back over to the ex in question, who raises an expectant brow when he catches your eye.

“Ready?” he calls out the open window.

No, you want to say. But Jimin has already clambered into the van and slammed the door shut, and Jungkook’s car is blocking the van in the driveway so you suck in a deep breath and slide into the passenger seat beside your dark-haired neighbor.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Jungkook nods and throws the car into reverse. One hand splays across the wheel while the other comes up to rest on the back of your seat, and your breath hitches when he cranes around to check his blind spots, his face suddenly too close for comfort.

He’s playing with you, you tell yourself firmly, leaning back until your back’s pressed against the door and you can safely breathe again. Chaeyoung. Think about what he did to Chaeyoung.

“Hey, I made a roadtrip mix,” Jungkook pipes up all of a sudden. He grabs his phone from where it’s resting on the dashboard, tapping at the screen until the first strains of a melody filter through the car speakers. “It should last us the whole way.”

You perk up when you recognize the tune. “Oh! I love this song.”

Jungkook watches out of the corner of his eye as you bob your head to the beat, before smiling down at his lap. “Yeah. I know.”

///

Yugyeom lives on the other side of town, in a sprawling, winding neighborhood that sends your brain—and your phone’s GPS—into a complete and total tailspin. “Wait, wait—hang on. I think you missed a turn. You must have.”

Jungkook’s face crumples in confusion as he slows the car to a crawl, drawing a few irritated honks from the cars behind you. “There weren’t any streets back there, though.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, twisting in your seat to get a better look. “The directions said to take a right in… oh, fuck, hang on. We’re not even on a digitized road anymore, apparently.”

Jungkook heaves a sigh, but when you glance up at him, he’s wearing a grin. “Come on, Noona. You’re supposed to be my navigator. I’m depending on you.”

“I only know how to get us to the lake house, not Yugyeom’s,” you sniff defensively. “This is way beyond my pay grade.”

Jungkook chortles and reaches out, extending an open palm. “Can I see your phone for a sec?” You nod, handing it over, and he clicks his tongue as he turns it upside-down—rotating it a full three hundred and sixty degrees before returning it. “We might be lost,” he declares.

“Gee, you don’t say.”

He chuckles again. Picking up his own phone, he swipes a thumb across the screen before handing the unlocked device over. “Here, call Yugyeom. Put him on speaker, yeah?”

You hum in acknowledgement and scroll down in his contacts until you find the other boy’s name, clicking it open. A photo fills the screen as it rings—clearly a group photo from the way it’s cropped, zoomed in on Yugyeom and the ridiculous face he’s making.

“Is this from graduation?” you ask curiously.

Jungkook blinks and tears his gaze away from the windshield. “Huh?”

“Yugyeom’s contact photo,” you clarify, tilting the phone screen so he can see. “He’s got robes on.”

“Oh.” He looks away again, cheeks flushing. “Yeah. It’s lame, I know.”

You shake your head. “Don’t say that. I think it’s nice.”

Jungkook doesn’t get a chance to respond, but it’s impossible to miss the grin that crinkles his face and settles there. There’s a staticky hum as the line connects, and then Yugyeom’s voice is filling the vehicle, sounding as if he’s just rolled out of bed.

“Whaddaya want?”

“We can’t find your fucking house, man,” Jungkook says bluntly, turning onto a street that you’ve driven down at least three times by this point. “Where do you live?”

On the other end of the line, Yugyeom sighs. “Okay, okay. What street are you guys on?”

That gives Jungkook pause. “Uhh, Cedar Street? Oak Avenue? It has a tree name.”

“Neither of those streets exist, dude.”

“Birch Boulevard!” you exclaim. “We’re on Birch Boulevard. I saw the sign a while back.”

“Ah, okay. You’re close, then. Do you see a sign for Linden Lane?”

You glance around until you alight on a signpost. “Yeah.”

“Turn right onto it. Then take the first left, go past the cul-de-sac, and another left. Do not pass Go, and do not collect two-hundred dollars. I’m the fifth house on the right.”

He ends the call before you can ask him to repeat the directions, and you send Jungkook a helpless look. “Did you get all of that?”

“Besides the overused Monopoly joke?” Jungkook asks.. “Yeah, I got it. Right, left, left. Fifth house. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get there.”

And true to his word, you arrive at the house three minutes later. Yugyeom is standing on the front step with rumpled hair and a duffel bag at his feet, and you snort when he throws open the car door and flops across the entirety of the backseat.

“Rough morning?”

“Stayed up late packing,” he says by way of explanation, his eyes already beginning to drift shut. Jungkook immediately turns the music up, and you giggle when Yugyeom shoots upright at the bassline that’s now shaking the entire vehicle. “I’m up, I’m up! Jeez, man.”

Jungkook just sends him an innocent grin in the rearview mirror. You turn the volume back down to a reasonable level as Yugyeom directs Jungkook onto the best route to take out of the neighborhood, and it isn’t long before you’re merging onto the highway that leads toward the coast.

You’re just beginning to get comfortable, staring out the window at the passing cityscape, when your leg vibrates with an incoming text notification. Glancing down, you see that Jungkook’s phone has slipped between your thigh and the seat, the screen lit with a new message.

[10:21am] Minho: gonna be at the store in 10

“Minho says they’ll be at the grocery store in ten minutes,” you relay to your companions. “We have a little longer to go. Probably another half hour or so.”

“We wouldn’t be so far behind if Yugyeom didn’t live in a fucking labyrinth,” Jungkook remarks, but a glance at the young man in the backseat reveals that he’s drifted off despite your earlier stunt. Rolling his eyes, he turns to you. “Can you text him back, Noona?”

You nod and hold out his phone so he can unlock it with his thumb. “Hey,” you say once you’ve hit send on the message. “Do you have a contact photo for me?”

Jungkook stiffens slightly, his gaze skittering between you and the road. “Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess I do. But it’s nothing, really. It’s kinda lame. But you… you can look at it if you want.”

Curiosity piqued, you scroll down until you find your name, tapping on the image beside it. The photo is from several years ago, during a family trip to the lake house with the Jeons. You are no older than fifteen, your arm slung around a fourteen-year-old Jungkook as the two of you stand knee-deep in the lake, wearing swimsuits and bright smiles. In the background, you can just barely make out a blurry Jimin mid-splash.

“I remember this,” you murmur, zooming in on your smiling faces. “That was a fun summer.”

“Junghyun was grumpy the whole time,” Jungkook recalls with a laugh. “But we had a good time, didn’t we? We practically lived in the lake that entire week.”

“Or that old canoe.” You grin, taking one last look at the photo before locking his phone and handing it back to him. “Remember? We’d always row out too far, and our parents would scream for us to come back before we fell in and drowned.”

Jungkook snickers. “As if I’d ever let you drown. I’m a great swimmer.”

“Are you saying I’m not?”

He backpedals immediately, realizing his mistake. “Hey, don’t twist my words. I said nothing of the sort.”

“That’s what I thought.” Giggling, you turn to look out the window, propping your chin in your palm as you watch the scenery flash past. “And I want that photo, by the way. Send it to me?”

“As soon as we get to the store,” Jungkook promises. “Speaking of which, we’re getting close. Keep an eye out for the exit for me?”

“Deal.”

///

Jimin and the others are waiting in the parking lot when you arrive, perched on and around the van as they watch Jungkook expertly maneuver the car into a neighboring parking space. “Took you long enough,” your brother says once the engine is cut, hopping off the hood and landing lightly on both feet.

“We’re here now, aren’t we?” you snark as you join the others hovering near the grocery store entrance. Jimin makes a face at you, and you stick your tongue out in response. After a quick huddle—wherein you form a very haphazard game plan—everyone disperses. Jimin grabs a shopping cart and heads inside with Taehyung and Minho, the latter of whom is trying to clamber his way into the cart to hitch a ride.

Sighing, you grab a shopping cart of your own and scan the interior of the store for the produce section. They’ve rearranged the aisles since you were last here, but you quickly find what you’re looking for and begin picking your way over when Jungkook materializes at your side.

“So, what are you thinking for food?” he asks, nudging you away so he can push the cart in your stead.

You allow him to take over, gesturing toward your destination. “I know my brother,” you tell him dryly. “He’s going to buy meat and completely forget about everything else. And I don’t trust any of you to buy a single fruit or vegetable.”

“I like fruit and vegetables,” Jungkook defends.

“You like everything,” you correct, flashing him a teasing grin before leading him into the produce section.

Grocery shopping with Jungkook turns out to be surprisingly pleasant—comfortable, even. He proves adept at finding the ripest fruits and greenest vegetables, and when you ask him to find some apples, he trots off immediately and returns with a handful of sweet potatoes in addition to your requested fruit.

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning to do with those?”

Jungkook feigns offense, slapping a hand to his heart. “That’s cold, Noona. Don’t you think I can cook?”

“I’ve never seen you cook in my life,” you respond. “How am I supposed to know if you can or not?”

“I can,” he promises. “And I’ll prove it too, if you let me.”

You get the feeling he’s not just talking about cooking anymore, but he doesn’t give you a chance to answer. Dropping the apples and potatoes into the cart, he flashes you a crooked little smile before turning toward a display of cabbages, leaving you to wonder at what exactly is going through his head.

///

It’s nearly one in the afternoon when you arrive at your family’s lake house. The last stretch of the drive takes you through the forest along a winding, narrow road, but Jungkook is a capable driver and you know the way well enough to warn him about any upcoming hairpin turns. Piling out of the car, the three of you make quick work of putting the food safely into the refrigerator. By the time you’re finished, Jimin and the others have arrived as well, lugging their belongings inside and setting them inside the entryway.

“So who’s sleeping where?” Taehyung asks, glancing around the house. It’s modestly sized, with a living area on one side and a combined dining room and kitchen on the other. Three bedrooms and a bathroom branch off of the hallway between them, ending in a back door that leads out to the lake. Through the window, you can see the water glimmering in the sunlight, hazy and golden.

“We’ll have to share,” Jimin says. “ If Noona takes one room, that leaves two bedrooms and the pullout couch for the rest of us.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “Rock, paper, scissors?” he suggests, drawing a chorus of groans.

“I always lose!” Jimin complains. “And Taemin cheats!”

“Do not!”

Laughing at the indignant expression on your brother’s face, you decide to leave them to it and head to your bedroom with your luggage in tow. The room is just as you remember it, with a bed tucked against one wall and a dresser on the opposite. There are three doors in total—one that you just entered through, and another that opens into a small closet. The third leads to a bathroom—shared with the bedroom on the other side of the wall that usually belongs to Jimin. Vaguely, you wonder who will be sleeping there tonight, before setting your suitcase on the bed and unzipping it.

“Fuck!”

You jump at the sudden shout, poking your head out into the hallway to see what’s causing all the commotion. Yugyeom is kneeling on the floor with his head down, a crestfallen Taemin standing beside him. Meanwhile, Taehyung and Minho look supremely pleased with themselves, and you see why when they grab their bags and practically skip to the master bedroom across the hall, collapsing onto the king-sized bed.

“Have fun on the couch, losers!” Jimin singsongs, grabbing Jungkook by the wrist and dragging him into their newly won bedroom on your side of the hallway. “Lake in fifteen minutes, so get changed! Last one there’s in charge of dinner!”

The door slams shut behind him, and you roll your eyes before turning back to your opened suitcase and pulling out a book. There’s a perfectly shaded spot beneath one of the trees along the water, and you fully intend to capitalize on the last few hours of daylight before the sun begins to set.

Minho is the only one outside when you exit the house, standing on the dock in a pair of green swim trunks. He waves at you cheerily before cannonballing into the lake, and you squeak as the resulting splash sends water splattering across the front of your shirt.

“Sorry!” he calls when he resurfaces, shaking his hair out like a wet dog.

You wave off his apology with a laugh, settling down onto the soft grass at the base of your chosen tree and opening up your book. The other boys trickle out of the house one by one, but you barely notice. It isn’t until a triumphant shout pierces the air that you finally glance up to see what’s causing all the commotion, your gaze immediately landing on Taehyung standing on the back steps of the house.

“Trust me,” he says, unbothered by his apparent tardiness. “You don’t want me to make dinner.”

Minho pulls a face and straightens up from where he’d been floating on his back. “You know, he kinda has a point there.”

Murmurs of agreement all around. Taehyung gives Jimin a smug smile, who scowls from where he’s sitting at the end of the dock, his bare feet dangling over the edge. “So what now? Do we have to play rock, paper, scissors again?”

“Nah, I’ll do it.”

Every head whips around to face Jungkook, yours included. He’s standing a short ways from where you’re sitting—his approach so quiet that you hadn’t even heard him arrive. The last time you checked, he’d been diving off the dock with Minho and Yugyeom, water pooling in his collarbones and dripping down the ridges of his taut abdomen each time he resurfaced.

Not that you’d been looking, of course.

“Really?” Jimin looks aghast at his best friend’s declaration. “You can cook?”

Jungkook scoffs in disbelief and plops down beside you, leaning back against the tree trunk. “Why does everyone in your family seem surprised by that?” he asks, his lip jutting out in a petulant frown. “Do I seem like someone who can’t cook?”

“Yes,” you tell him honestly, marking your page and letting the book fall shut. “Don’t take it personally, though. Men only learn how to cook in college when they have to start fending for themselves. And sometimes, not even then.”

The noise that leaves Jungkook’s mouth can best be described as disgruntled, but he doesn’t press any further. Instead, he peers over your shoulder to get a look at the cover of your book, mouthing the title to himself before glancing at you. “Haven’t I seen you reading this before?”

“Probably,” you admit. “It’s an old favorite.”

He hums, slouching back against the tree again, and when you look over, you see that both his eyes have fallen shut. With his mouth parted and his dark lashes resting on his cheeks, he looks years younger than he is—and so much more like the Jungkook you used to know.

“Tired?” you whisper.

“Long drive,” Jungkook whispers back, his head already beginning to loll. “Lemme sleep, Noona.”

Smiling to yourself, you return to your book and leave him to rest.

///

“So, what are you even planning to make?” Jimin asks, swinging his legs. He’s seated atop the kitchen counter, taking up the majority of what precious little space there is to begin with, and Jungkook sighs deeply as he’s forced to dodge around him yet again to peer into the refrigerator.

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t think you even know yet,” Taemin pipes up from the doorway. The other boys are in the living room playing Mario Kart, but Taemin and Jimin have selflessly pulled themselves away from the game to help their friend in the kitchen—or so they say. As far as you’re concerned, they’ve been nothing but a nuisance thus far, but you don’t voice that particular thought aloud.

“Ramen doesn’t count as making dinner,” Jimin points out snidely when Jungkook pauses too long next to the box of ramen packs. “Anyone can boil water. And you don’t get to add an egg and call it fancy, like you usually do.”

“My ramen is delicious, excuse you,” Jungkook retorts, pointing a spatula at him. “And that’s not even what I’m making, so fuck off.”

Jimin shrugs, but shuts his mouth nonetheless. You take the opportunity to throw some pork belly at him, the meat wrapped neatly in paper and tied off with twine. “Here,” you tell him. “You could at least make yourself useful and start grilling the meat.”

“Okay, mom,” your brother grumbles under his breath, hopping off the counter. He and Taemin head out to the back porch where the grill sits, and you join Jungkook at the stove where he’s staring thoughtfully at an empty pan.

“Try twisting the dial. I’ve heard that helps.”

Jungkook snaps out of his daze and turns to you. “Huh?”

“The stove. It won’t light itself, you know.”

Chuckling, Jungkook twists the dial as instructed, adding a drizzle of oil to the pan. As it heats up, he turns and selects a knife from the cutlery drawer. The sweet potatoes he’d insisted on purchasing are already washed and peeled, and you watch as he begins to slice them, your gaze automatically flitting down to his exposed forearms, his muscles flexing with every movement.

“Hey, Noona? Can you do me a favor?”

You blink, tearing your gaze from the branching veins lining his arms. “What?”

Jungkook, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice your distracted state. “Can you put the rice in the microwave?” he asks, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Why?” you tease. “Are you still scared?”

“Of course not,” he retorts, but you don’t miss the wary look that flashes across his face when you plop the rice inside and go to punch in the cook time.

The remainder of the cooking goes smoothly. Jimin and Taemin return with the grilled meat, and Jungkook rebuffs your offer to set the table, leaving his position at the stove to lay plates and utensils down on the table himself. “I’m just about done, anyway,” he tells you, gesturing at the plate of glazed sweet potatoes on the counter. “Sit down and relax, Noona.”

“Fine,” you relent, taking a seat. Jimin takes the chair beside you, and Taemin plops down on his other side. Jungkook sits down just to your left once he’s finished laying out the food, and for a brief, insane moment, you almost think that he’s going to repeat what he’d done at his graduation dinner. But the dark-haired young man remains on his best behavior, keeping his hands to himself under the table, and you aren’t sure whether you’re grateful or disappointed.

The meal flies by in a flurry of laughter and conversation. Jungkook discovers that his glazed sweet potatoes have adhered to the plate, and sends everyone into hysterics when he promptly starts spinning it around like a steering wheel.

It’s a good night. And at the end of it, you go to bed warm and content, with a belly full of food and a smile on your face.

///

You awaken to the sound of chirping songbirds and gentle waves lapping at the shore the next morning, thoroughly rejuvenated after an undisturbed night’s sleep. Stretching your arms overhead, you yawn and bask in the comfort of your bed for a few more moments before getting up and heading to the bathroom, thankful that you don’t have to fight anyone for sink occupancy. The toilet seat is even down, which comes as a welcome surprise, all things considered.

Before long, you are back in your bedroom, rifling through the contents of your suitcase. Belatedly, you realize that you’ve packed only one swimsuit—and a bikini, at that. Cheeks warming, you pull the two pieces out, holding them up against your body. Has it always been this small? You don’t remember. All you know is that Jungkook has two fully functional eyes, and there’s no way that he won’t be looking at every inch of skin you choose to expose.

In the end, you settle on wearing the bikini beneath a flowy, floral kimono-style robe, tied at the waist to form a makeshift dress. The ensemble reaches just past your knees and is sheer enough to still show skin, but you no longer feel as self-conscious going out into the view of your companions and that’s a victory as far as you’re concerned. Checking your reflection one last time, you adjust your sash before opening the bedroom door and heading down the hall for some breakfast.

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen is empty when you walk in, tiptoeing past a still slumbering Taemin and Yugyeom on the pullout couch. You savor the quiet as you start up the old coffeemaker, pulling a mug from the cabinet and rinsing it out to get rid of any lingering dust. The weather app on your phone promises that it’ll be a clear, cloudless day, and a glance out the window confirms it. Silently, you debate whether or not to crack a window.

Your musings are interrupted by the arrival of Taehyung, his brown hair sticking up at all angles. Blearily, he trundles to the fridge and grabs the orange juice, seemingly two seconds away from chugging it straight from the carton before you clear your throat and push a clean glass toward him. You think you hear him mumble a thank you.

As the morning wears on, the others slowly begin to trickle in. Breakfast is a disorganized affair that leaves bread crumbs all over the counter, and nearly causes a fight when everyone seems to want their eggs cooked a different way.

“Look, if you wanted your egg soft-boiled, you should’ve made it yourself!” Jimin grouches to Taehyung, the t-shirt over his head muffling his words. Everyone else is already in the water, splashing about, but you’re seated on the end of the dock with your brother and Taehyung, who looks thoroughly unfazed behind his tinted sunglasses.

“Maybe if I knew how to soft boil an egg, I would have.”

“Google exists,” Jimin says, finally freeing himself from the shirt and tossing it aside.

Taehyung nods sagely. “Exactly. So why didn’t you use it?”

Jimin is beginning to look positively murderous, so when Minho swims over and taps your submerged ankle, you are beyond grateful for the distraction. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Are you gonna swim, or are you gonna sit onshore the whole time?” Minho asks, raking his wet bangs out of his eyes. “The water’s not even cold, so get in here.”

Pointedly, you wiggle your toes. “Feels pretty cold to me.”

“Okay, fine. It’s cold.” Minho grins. “But you get used to it.”

You sigh at his easy admission. “All men do is lie. How am I supposed to believe you?”

He raises a brow. “Do I need to pull you in and dunk you under?”

“I will kick you if you even try,” you tell him, standing up and shrugging off your robe. An audible hush falls as the gauzy material pools around your ankles—Jungkook stops wrestling with Yugyeom and trying to dunk him underwater, and Taemin pauses mid-splash, his hair drenched and dripping.

It’s Minho who breaks the silence first, letting loose a low whistle of appreciation. “Damn, {Name}.”

Jimin grabs a shoe from the pile on the dock and chucks it at him, hard. “Dude, that’s my fucking sister!”

“Ow! What the fuck, man, that’s my shoe!”

“Quit ogling my sister!”

“I’m not!” Minho yells, just as Jimin chucks the other shoe and hits him square in the mouth. “Okay, I’m not anymore. Sorry, okay?”

Once he’s sufficiently sure that Jimin is done attacking him, Minho turns to you. “I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you reassure him. “Honestly, it was kinda good for my self-esteem. And I don’t need you defending my honor, or whatever it is you think you’re doing,” you add, glancing over at your disgruntled brother.

“Men are pigs,” Jimin sniffs. “I won’t apologize.”

You ruffle his hair good-naturedly. “I know, Chim. You’re right.” Then your smile turns mischievous. “I won’t apologize for what I’m about to do, either.”

And then you grab him by the arm and drag him into the lake, the cold water submerging you in an instant and stealing the breath out of your lungs. You’re both gasping by the time you resurface, blinking water out of your eyes, and you squeal when Jimin takes the opportunity to splash you again.

Hours pass—the sun rising higher overhead. Around noon, Taehyung disappears inside the house and returns with an assortment of snacks and sandwich fixings, ushering everyone over for an impromptu lunch on the dock. You dip your feet into the water as you munch on a bag of chips, and Jungkook plops down beside you with a juice box in one hand and a ham sandwich in the other.

“Wanna go for a ride in the canoe after lunch?” he asks, jabbing a thumb back in the direction of the house. “I found it in the garage.”

You laugh. “Really? I thought for sure we got rid of that thing. Are you sure it hasn’t sprung a leak?”

Jungkook’s face crinkles into a grin. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, huh?”

You grin back and raise your cup, the lemonade inside swishing around. “I’ll hang on to this, just in case I need to start bailing water out.”

Lunchtime winds down gradually. Jungkook polishes off his sandwich and trots off to fetch the canoe, waving off your offers to help before disappearing around the corner of the house. You watch him return a few minutes later from your seat on the end of the dock, resting your weight back on your hands and swirling your pruney toes in the water. He’s stripped off the loose white tee he’d donned during lunch, his golden skin cast in shadow by the canoe perched across his bare shoulders, and your gaze trails from his bulging biceps down to the ridges of his abdomen. The muscles flex with every step he takes, and you hastily take another sip of lemonade in an effort to combat the sudden dryness in your throat.

With a grunt, Jungkook comes to a stop at your elbow, heaving the boat into the water. The impact sends ripples across the lake and the butterflies in your belly into a frenzy, and you nearly fall off the dock when Jungkook touches your shoulder gently.

“Ready to go, Noona?”

You nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Jungkook holds the boat steady with one hand while offering you the other, and you gratefully grasp it as you step off the dock. The canoe rocks dangerously when Jungkook clambers in after you, but quickly steadies when he picks up an oar and jabs at the dock to push off into the lake. The glimmering expanse of blue water stretches before you, and you relax as you let your fingers dangle off the side of the boat, watching ripples form beneath your fingertips.

“I can help row,” you say after a few moments, casting a glance over at Jungkook. He’s settled into a rhythm now, the veins and tendons in his arm flexing with each movement, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he’s sitting.

“You—” Jungkook says, fixing you with a playful stare, “—just enjoy the ride, yeah?”

Shaking your head, you smile and turn back around to admire the view. Sunlight reflects off the rippling water, lending a golden iridescence to the glittering blue depths. In the distance, the opposite shoreline rises up, crowned with rocky outcrops and majestic dark green pines.

With a start, you realize how far away you’ve gotten from the other boys. The shouts and laughter from the house are quickly fading into the background, and you nervously turn to look at Jungkook as he rows you even further.

“God, my dad would freak if he saw us right now,” you remark, trying to diffuse the sudden tension that’s settled. “I mean, we don’t even have life jackets. He’d lose his mind.”

Jungkook hums. He stops rowing, his hands stilling on the oars, and you’re just about to ask him what’s wrong when a warm hand glides up your thigh.

“You think you could maybe stop talking about your dad, princess?” Then he smirks. “Unless you’re into the whole daddy kink thing, because I’d be down to explore that at some point if you want—“

“Jungkook!” you hiss, scandalized.

“Yes?” the young man in question hums, his face the picture of innocence. It’s hard to muster up your vocabulary when he’s looking up at you with those wide doe eyes, but you somehow manage to prevail over your malfunctioning brain.

“We’re in public!” you whisper, glancing back at the shore where your brother and his friends have started an impromptu game of water polo.

Jungkook smirks crookedly at you. “Guess you better not scream too loud, then.”

And then, before you can open your mouth to protest—before you can even try to call his bluff—he’s slipped his hand into your bikini bottoms and found his way to your clit. Your entire body spasms when he presses into it experimentally, and the resulting snicker that escapes him is nothing short of infuriating.

“Careful,” he coos, laying his free hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing nonsensical circles into the soft skin. “Don’t wanna rock the boat, now.”

Then he returns his attention to your clit, pinching the nub just to watch you jolt in his grasp and soothing you with a gentle kiss to the knee afterward. Your skin warms beneath the plush of his lips, and the pleased smile that curves them is all the warning you get before he sheathes a single finger in your clenching core. “Jungkook—” you gasp, shoving uselessly at his bare shoulders, but you can’t keep the edge of desire out of your voice. You can’t hide the growing wetness between your legs either—wetness that he most certainly feels as he slips another finger inside, pumping into you with ease.

“God, look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes trained on the way you clench around him. “So pretty like this. So pretty, getting fucked by my fingers. I could do this all day.”

“We—we don’t have all day,” you whisper. The last syllable dissolves into a moan as Jungkook eases a third finger into your cunt, and you scrabble to ground yourself when he picks up his leisurely pace. One hand settles on the edge of the boat, your fingernails digging into the wood, while the other finds Jungkook’s bicep. His arm flexes beneath your grip with each snap of his wrist, and you keen when he crooks his fingers just right and sends stars skittering across your vision.

He knows that you’re getting close. You can tell from the growing furrow between his brows and the hard set of his jaw, and you can tell that he won’t stop until he gets you off. Concentration etches across his face, and you gasp when his thumb finds your clit again.

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook—”

“That’s it,” he rasps, digging deeper and thumbing roughly across your bundle of nerves. “Cum for me.”

And you do. With one final flick of his wrist, Jungkook sends you hurtling over the edge that he’s so effortlessly built, a cresting wave of pleasure overtaking your body and spreading through your veins. Your leg kicks out instinctively, rocking the canoe dangerously in the water, but Jungkook catches you by the ankle with his free hand and presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He shifts his weight until you’re steadied once more, and only then does he ease his fingers out of you, raising them to his mouth to lick them clean.

“Think we can sneak away so I can fuck you properly?” he asks.

Your cheeks heat up at the lewd display, warming even more when his words register in your muddled brain. “Oh my god, Jungkook.”

“That’s exactly what you’ll be saying when I really get my hands on you,” Jungkook agrees. Flashing you a mischievous grin, he drops his hand over the edge of the boat, letting the turquoise water wash away any lingering fluids. “What do you think? The backseat of my car isn’t half bad…”

“I will literally push you into this lake,” you tell him, trying and failing to hide a disbelieving laugh. “Why are you such a perv?”

“You like it,” Jungkook defends immediately. “‘Sides,” he adds, casting a wary glance at the shore where Jimin and the others are still fully engrossed in their game, “I wanna kiss you while I fuck you. It’s not as good like this.”

At that, something dangerously close to affection blooms in your belly, winding its curious tendrils around your heart. Swallowing the feeling down, you pick up one of the oars instead, handing it over to him before hefting the other. “Come on,” you murmur. “They’re gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah. Probably.”

And then he raises the oar you just handed him, lifting it until the paddle covers both of your faces, and boldly plants a firm kiss on your mouth.

“I’ll row us back,” he declares casually when he pulls away, as if he hasn’t just stolen all the oxygen from your lungs. As if your lips aren’t burning where he’s kissed you, your cheeks hot beneath his gentle exhalations. As if you aren’t positively thrumming with the desire to pull him back in, and maybe take him up on his offer to fuck you in the backseat of his beat-up sedan.

“Yeah,” you say instead, your voice hoarse. “Let’s go.”

///

What few remaining hours of daylight you have, you decide to spend inside. Jungkook gets roped into the water polo match as soon as the two of you return to shore, and you take the opportunity to slip into the house and clean yourself up. Safely locked away in the bathroom, you strip off your damp bikini bottoms and toss them in the sink. The top follows, and you give both a quick wash, doing your best to ignore the remaining slick from your orgasm that stubbornly coats the material.

Once everything is washed and hanging up to dry, you step into the shower. Warm water soaks your hair and slides down your back, and you tilt your head back to let the spray wash your worries away, relishing in the rare moment of peace and quiet.

By the time you’ve toweled off and gotten dressed, you can hear the boys beginning to traipse back into the house. From what you can make out, they’re making dinner plans, and you poke your head out curiously when Jimin mentions you by name.

“What are you saying about me?” you ask, narrowing your eyes accusingly at your brother.

Jimin whirls around, his cherubic face a perfect picture of innocence. “Nothing! I was just talking about your fried rice and how good it is…”

“You’re trying to get me to make you dinner,” you sigh. “I knew it.”

“No, we’ll help!” your brother promises. “I swear, as soon as I get out of the shower, I’ll chop all the vegetables.”

“Sure you will,” you snort, brushing past him and heading for the kitchen.

Much to your surprise, the kitchen is already occupied when you arrive. Jungkook and Yugyeom are at the counter—the former poised with a knife at the ready, about to slice into an onion. The latter is digging through the cabinets, and both turn at the sound of your footsteps.

“Hey,” Yugyeom says. “You probably know where the bottle opener is, right?”

You nod. “Left of the sink, second drawer down.” Then you turn your attention to Jungkook, peering curiously over his shoulder. “What’s the onion for?”

“Dinner,” he replies, flashing you a crooked little smile. “We’re making fried rice, aren’t we?”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest and races to catch up, thumping erratically against your ribcage. It’s hard to ignore the warmth blossoming in your belly—near impossible to ignore the butterflies that have made a home there—but you somehow manage to school your expression into something passably neutral and busy yourself with the other vegetables on the counter. “I see Jimin got to you, too. Is the other cutting board clean?”

Jungkook nods, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the dish rack. “Washed it last night, yeah. It’s all yours, Noona.”

You hum and skirt around Yugyeom to grab the clean board and another knife. Chopping vegetables goes a lot faster with two people, and Yugyeom does his part by cracking open two bottles of beer and plunking one down next to each of you before opening a third for himself. “Hydrate,” he orders, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and taking a sip.

It doesn’t take long to finish making dinner. As promised, Jimin joins you as soon as he’s out of the shower, plucking the knife out of your hand and nudging you aside so he can finish cutting the vegetables. You fire up the stove and drizzle some oil into a pan, and smile when Taehyung brings you the container of leftover rice and a large serving bowl.

“You know what we should do?” Minho asks as you’re all sitting down to eat. Yugyeom’s opened more beers, and Jimin’s brought out the wine as well. Jungkook is spooning out fried rice for everyone, and you accept the bowl he hands you with a murmur of thanks before looking at Minho expectantly.

“What should we do?”

“Go to the beach,” he replies, tilting the remainder of his beer back into his mouth. “It’s only an hour away, isn’t it?”

“Closer to half an hour without traffic,” Jimin corrects. “But, yeah, we should go. That would be fun.”

By the time dinner is finished, you’ve finalized plans to drive down to the beach in the morning. “Remember, we’re leaving at ten,” you tell Jimin, elbowing him in the ribs. “That means you have to wake up before ten.”

“I know!” your brother whines, rubbing the spot where you elbowed him with a grimace. “Jeez, Noona. I’m good at waking up. It’s Jungkook and Tae you have to worry about.”

“Says the punk who takes hour-long showers,” you snark. “What are you gonna do when you have to pay your own water bills, huh?”

“Shower at your place,” he replies smugly. “You can’t turn me away. I’m your brother.”

“Please, that’s exactly why I can turn you away, you little mooch.”

“You love me!”

“Really? You wanna test that theory?”

The remainder of the evening passes in a blur of booze and board games, unearthed from the closet in the hall. Despite your collective agreement to go to bed early, it’s past midnight when you finally bid everyone goodnight and crawl underneath your covers. Shutting your eyes, you will your brain to settle and your limbs to relax, and you’re on the verge of drifting off when your phone suddenly buzzes. Lazily, you roll over and snatch the device off the nightstand, taking in the late hour before your eyes flit down to the new notification and go wide.

[1:02am] Jungkook: IMG_497

You freeze, thumb hovering just above the message. Even when your screen goes dark again, you can’t erase the sight of his name lighting up your phone, the attachment sitting there like a taunt. You shouldn’t open it. You can’t open it.

But curiosity gnaws at your belly, fraying the edges of your resolve. Slowly, you wake the screen, watching as Jungkook’s name fills it once more. You hesitate, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth.

And then your phone buzzes again, several times in quick succession.

[1:04am] Jungkook: i miss you, noona

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss your pretty face

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss how tight your pussy felt around my fingers

You drop the device as if scorched. It takes several moments to gather your wits again, but when you do, pick up your phone, clicking on his name and scrolling up to the attachment. In the darkness of your bedroom, you watch with bated breath as it downloads.

“Fuck.”

The expletive slips past your lips, unbidden, but you can’t help it. Jungkook stares out at you from the photograph illuminating your screen, his eyes hooded and his lips curled into a devious smirk. He’s in the shared bathroom between your bedrooms, and even though it’s dark inside, the flash of his camera is just enough to illuminate the distinctive palm tree patterned shower curtain behind him.

But, you aren’t focused on that.

No, your focus is zeroed in on the foreground of the photo, where you can perfectly make out the head of Jungkook’s cock, sticky and leaking copiously from between his fingers.

“Fuck,” you repeat, louder this time.

And as if reading your mind, another text flashes onto your screen.

[1:07am] Jungkook: wish your pretty little pussy was stretched around my cock right now, princess

You aren’t sure what possesses you to send the response you do, but your thumbs are moving before the more rational side of your brain can catch up and stop you.

[1:07am] You: why don’t you come over and make it happen then?

You’ve only just hit send when the bathroom door swings open, revealing Jungkook standing there in nothing but sweatpants. His face is illuminated in the stark white light shining from his screen, his eyes dark and his smirk even darker. Every movement drips with intent, from the way his lips quirk upward to the way he saunters over to join you on your bed, dropping his phone somewhere amongst the rumpled sheets. The room goes dark.

And then…

“Hey, princess.”

His lips are at your ear, hot breath caressing your cheeks and sending shivers down the length of your spine. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he joins you, a hand finding your bare thigh before sliding up to grasp your hip. Only an oversized t-shirt and a thin pair of cotton panties shield you from his roving fingers, and you can tell from the pleased curve of his mouth that he isn’t going to let either stand in his way. One hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, dancing along your ribcage, and you let out a breathy gasp when he trails up and skims along the soft skin just below the swell of your breasts.

“Been thinking about you all night, you know,” Jungkook whispers, pushing up your shirt and peppering kisses along every inch of newly revealed flesh. “Been thinking about how pretty you looked, cumming around my fingers, and how much prettier you’d look cumming around my cock.”

Your shirt is long forgotten by this point, tugged overhead and thrown carelessly over his shoulder. Jungkook hauls you closer, slotting himself between your spread legs, and you shiver when he presses the pad of his thumb against your clothed clit, the material uncomfortably damp as it clings to your folds.

“Jungkook—” His name escapes you in an airy whisper. “Please.”

Even in the darkness, you can see the satisfied, self-assured tilt of his lips. “Such a good girl for me,” he croons, leaning down to press a kiss to your waiting mouth. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek while the other remains between your legs, and you gasp sharply when he digs his thumb a little harder against your clit, circling the sensitive bud.

Jungkook seizes upon the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, licking into your mouth with unrestrained ardor. Your panties are peeled away, the cottony material disappearing right alongside the pressure of his thumb, and the inadvertent whine that escapes you has him chuckling darkly in his throat.

“What is it, princess?” Jungkook rasps, his voice dipping several pitches. “You have to tell me what you want, remember?”

You clutch at his wrist weakly, tugging it back between your legs until he finally indulges you and resumes his lazy revolutions around your clit. “Want you,” you whisper. “Want you inside me.”

Jungkook lets out a pleased hum, rewarding you with a single finger that he slips into your sopping entrance, your juices aiding the smooth glide as he curls it up in search of the spot that’ll have you seeing stars. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t,” you agree shakily. “But it looks like you are, so why don’t you let me help you out?”

Jungkook chuckles softly, his lips ghosting across the swell of your cheek. “Oh, yeah? And how exactly do you plan on helping me?”

Slowly, you reach down, letting your fingers graze the sizable bulge in his sweatpants. “You said it yourself, didn’t you? Me, stretched around your cock?”

A low groan escapes him when you give him a firm stroke, your fingers barely meeting around his length. “On your back,” he commands hoarsely, nudging you backward until you’re nestled into your pillows. Freeing his erection from the confines of his sweatpants, he settles comfortably between your spread legs, the mattress groaning in protest at the shift in weight.

“Wait,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist. “Did you hear that?”

His face scrunches in confusion. “Hear what?” he asks, as if he’s never heard that particular string of words before. “Are you sure it wasn’t just—”

He stops mid-sentence, and you both hear it again—the unmistakable creaking of bedsprings from next door. “Shit!” you hiss, scrambling back on the mattress until you’re nearly pressed against the headboard. “Oh, god. That’s Jimin. He’s going to kill you if he finds you in here—”

On the other side of the wall, the door to the shared bathroom opens, the light flickering on and illuminating the crack beneath your door. You hear your brother cursing sleepily under his breath as the toilet lid clatters open, and nearly shove Jungkook off the bed in your haste to get him out of your room.

“You have to go,” you whisper frantically, herding him toward the door that leads out into the hall.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls his pants back over his hips, and you can practically see him willing his erection to go away. “What am I supposed to say if he asks?”

“I don’t know! Pretend you were going for a glass of water or something!”

With a final push, you shove him out of your bedroom, leaning against the door with a relieved sigh when it clicks shut behind him. You hear Jungkook shuffle off just as Jimin flushes, and cast a prayer up to any deities that may exist as you listen to him wash his hands. And it seems your prayers are answered, as quiet descends over the house once more. Off in the distance, you think you hear Minho snoring.

Letting out another sigh, you return to bed, crawling beneath the covers and getting comfortable. And when sleep finally takes you, you dream of Jeon Jungkook.

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