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shivunin · 2 years

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Pip

(I've been rereading what I've got for that arranged marriage au all morning. I wanted to share the scene were Cullen and Adahlena meet if nothing else, because I had a really fun time writing it c: This is about two chapters in.)

Adahlena didn’t know how long she’d spent with her hands in the earth, but the sun had changed position when she looked up and realized she was no longer alone. The light had shifted from golden to faintly orange now, and the sun was nearing the horizon. She had an hour or two before sunset at the most, she supposed, which meant she was drastically late for the evening’s preparations.

“Ah–” a deep voice said, and she jerked her head up, “En'an'sal'en. Could you perhaps…point me to the, ah, castle?”

The human man’s accent was bad, but comprehensible. He would stand nearly two heads taller than her when she rose, and his hair was wavy and golden in the early evening light. He led a horse, had carefully halted it beyond the orderly lines of herbs–she was grateful for that–and wore a relatively simple pair of black trousers with a red tunic that complemented his coloring.

This was the first of her suitors that she’d actually spoken to. Few of them knew what she looked like outside of her nightly costume, for she’d been dodging them all week. It helped that most people were not waiting outside her window to speak with her, and that’s how she’d been entering and exiting the building since the first human had swaggered in.

“Oh,” he said, forehead creasing, “Ah–Ahn mar melin? Dirthas Common?”

Well, it was more Elvhen than she’d expected. Adahlena was frozen with her hands still half-dug in the soil, her fingers poised to pull up a particularly tenacious weed by the roots. She had no idea how something so large had grown here for so long, except that it was at the edge of a row and blended somewhat into the surrounding foliage. If left to her own devices, she’d be forced to move the soil aside with magic instead of brute strength, and some of the more delicate plants reacted poorly to magical interference.

“Do you, ah…need assistance?” he asked, his eyes straying to where hers were still reaching for the weed. He looped the reins around a lower-hanging branch and approached slowly, hands in view the whole time.

“I grew up on a farm,” he said in a calm voice, stopping several feet away, “I remember the late summer weeding well, if not fondly. We were always relieved when harvest time came and we didn’t have to do it anymore. May I?”

Adahlena freed her hands from the soil and moved away, shaking the loose clumps from her long fingers. What was he doing? All the visitors been told about the evening banquets. She would have expected he’d be trying to quickly get to his rooms so he could wash up and make a good first impression.

The man dug callused hands into the soil and plucked the weed out without effort, and she noted with surprised pleasure that he’d managed to get all the little threadling roots, too. He tossed it into the pile she’d been making and dusted off his hands.

“There,” he said with satisfaction, “Can you give me directions? Ah…”

“My name is not important,” she said finally, standing to gather the uprooted weeds into a fold of her long tunic, “I speak Common. You’re already going the right direction; just continue on along the edge of the field until you reach a well, and then you’ll want to go right. You’ll see it before too long.”

Adahlena tilted her head, examining him carefully as he stood and absently dusted his hands against each other. Strong, muscular thighs–clearly he was used to riding horses–and similarly strong upper arms. No wonder he’d had no trouble pulling the weed free. Perhaps Anuon was right about…

No. She wasn’t getting attached on account of something so trivial as size or physical appearance. It was far too early for that.

Adahlena moved past him and piled the weeds in a heap near the trees, which someone would come by and clean up later if they knew what was good for them. Her legs ached badly now that she was moving around. She’d spent more time climbing than she usually did these past few days, and hours of kneeling had made her joints stiff.

The human was untying the horse, looking at her from the corner of his eye every few seconds. She sighed and propped her hands on her hips.

“I’ll lead you there if you let me ride your horse,” she told him, and he straightened in surprise. While he considered the offer, she eyed the horse dubiously. It seemed like a nice enough creature, for all that she’d only ridden a handful of them.

“Oh,” he said, “My thanks. Do you need help –”

“Yes,” she said, and he cupped his gloved hands just below the stirrup. When she stepped into them, he lifted her up and into the saddle. It was in one of the human styles, though thankfully it still had the saddle horn she was used to. Adahlena steadied herself, found a good place for her feet to hang since they would not reach the stirrups, and gestured forward.

“Straight from here,” she told him, and he started moving.

“You never told me your name,” she said, and the human turned to look at her over his shoulder. He had a scar on his lip, she noticed. Interesting. She wondered what it would feel like to…no. No. She wasn’t getting attached and she certainly wasn’t interested. It was far too early for that.

“My name is unimportant,” he said. She tried to restrain a smile, but it tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“Fair,” she said.

“Are you a gardener? A farmer? Did you grow all of these?” he asked.

“In a sense.”

They were quiet for a time, and then she directed him to the right at the old well.

“What did you catch?” she asked.

“Catch?”

Was that not the right word?

“Your quarry,” she said, “You had to bring something back with you to be let past the city limits.”

“Oh. Yes. A brace of pheasants. I left them with the sentries.”

“Hmm,” she said. One of her favorite treats was a pheasant pie.

How had she not noticed how hungry she was? How long had she been weeding?

“Is there truly a feast every night?” he asked doubtfully a moment later.

“For the duration of the event? Yes. More’s the pity.”

“You don’t like them?”

“I prefer not to make idle conversation with people who are trying to impress–” don’t say me, she reminded herself, “—everyone around them.”

He snorted.

“I can understand that.”

“Hold here,” she said, and he did. She sat up straight and gave a sharp whistle. Another came in return.

“Made your choice already, Adahlena?” the taller sentry called down to her in Elvhen.

The human’s head had moved to watch them, she noticed. Sharp eyes, to see them both when their clothing blended into the surrounding trees.

“Not yet,” she called back.

“Well, you should. He’s the size of a horse. You’d never have to walk again.”

“Yes,” the second one called down, stepping up to the edge of a branch, “And if his size is proportionate, you won’t be able to walk again!”

The two of them laughed while Adahlena flushed at the ears. The worst part of this whole thing, she decided, was the way her personal life and personal preferences were now the purview of the entire clan and all their allies.

“I’m telling the cook to save you waybread and nothing else,” she told them in Common, and looked back to the human.

“Walk on,” she told him, “Ignore these fools.”

“I didn’t know what they were saying anyway,” the man said sheepishly, but tugged the horse forward.

From this angle, she could see the red-flushed curve of his neck, the small hairs at the base that curled into tight spirals. When he shifted his grip on the horse’s reins, the muscles in his back shifted slightly, growing tight against the fabric of his tunic and then softening again. Adahlena glanced away.

“You wouldn’t want to know,” she said darkly. The sentries’ laughter hadn’t died down.

“Is, ah,” he sighed, “Does…Adahlena mean something in Elvhen? Or were they speaking of the lady?”

“Both,” she said cautiously.

“What does it mean?”

“Hmm,” she thought, “In your tongue–something like ‘friend of the forest.’ But…several her age were named the same. We knew this generation would bear the bride for the Compact and the sound of the name is very similar to the first bride’s.”

“And what did they say of her? The sentries.”

She wished she could read his tone better. Was he skilled at hiding his feelings or was she just not used to the way humans expressed emotion? It was important that she knew which was true before she tried to pursue a relationship with one of them.

“They asked me if she’d chosen yet. She hasn’t.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, revealing a crisp profile, nose sharp like a dagger, pink lips and a scar on one side. There was something about it that tugged at her memory—something she’d meant to do, or recall—but no, it was gone. She pulled a face when the man looked away.

“That makes sense. I understand that not everyone has arrived yet.”

“Accurate; tomorrow is likely the final day for that.”

They were passing through the outlying houses now, and some of the children raced alongside them as they passed over the road. This time of day, washing was being gathered from the lines and suppers were being cooked. The air filled with the scent of roasting grain and fish, the bittersweet note of elfroot threading through it all.

“The people here won’t eat at this banquet?” he asked, and she read a note of judgment in it. That was fair; it was right that the clan eat together.

“They prefer not to at the moment,” she told him, “Many elves have suffered at the hands of humans. Not all of our clan were born in the clan, or in our lands. We will not force them to entertain our visitors.”

“Ah,” he said. Then, “You don’t seem very curious about me or any of this. You speak the trade tongue with little accent. Have you lived among humans?”

“For a time,” she admitted, “When I was younger. As for my curiosity, you forget that I have been amongst this furor for a month now, though the suitors have only begun to arrive over the last week or so. I know–”

I know everything I need to know about the ones coming here, she resisted saying. It was technically true–she had the dossiers in her bedroom now–but she hardly had an encyclopedic memory of them all. If she were being honest, she’d avoided looking at most of them since she’d selected her choice of candidates. Didn’t want to know too much; didn’t want to get attached, or hope for something that would ultimately disappoint. Better that she not know at all.

“You know?” he prompted, glancing over his shoulder at her again.

He really is quite handsome, she thought, once you get past the odd ears and the ungainly breadth of him.

“I know I’ll have time to ask if you…remain.”

From the look he gave her, they both knew it wasn’t what she’d intended to say.

“Not far to the castle now,” she told him by way of apology, but he didn’t complain.

“What are these banquets usually like?” he asked, skirting a puddle in the stone pathway.

“Loud,” she said grimly, “Less so than they were, unless many new suitors came in today. We dismissed two after yesterday’s dinner.”

They’d both fallen for one of her tricks, the fools. So funny what men thought to say when they believed themselves in like company. She wouldn’t tell this human about that, though; better she find out for herself what kind of man he was when nobody was looking.

“Truly?” he sounded surprised, “How many are left?”

Adahlena shrugged, shifting on the saddle so she could look ahead. The broad road stretched ahead of her, stone laid so tightly to the ground that no weed dared poke its head up. This path was kept cleared of trees, though she’d coaxed the council into allowing embrium beds along either side. They stood evenly now, nodding their ruby heads in time to the melody of the wind.

“Perhaps eleven or twelve, not counting the new arrivals. Fewer after tonight, I expect.”

“Twelve,” he repeated, shaking his head.

“Afraid of the competition?” she asked. He huffed.

“No. It’s much fewer than I expected. I was told seventy had been proposed.”

“Ah,” she said, “Well, we rejected most out of hand. We’d no desire to be part of some elaborate political game, and the Orlesians would doubtless refuse to leave their carriages behind. Fancy pricks.”

He laughed; must be Ferelden, she supposed. They seemed to dislike the Orlesians nearly as much as the elves did. Conquering countries that did not wish to be conquered had that effect on a people.

“We,” he said, and just that. The castle was coming into view now, blended into the surrounding trees as it was.

“We?” she said.

“You said ‘we,’ both times. Are you responsible for some of the eliminations?”

“Clever as well as good with his hands,” she mused, nodding to another of the sentries as they passed a checkpoint. The sentry immediately turned and began whispering to the other.

“Is that a yes?”

They paused outside the gates and she dismounted carefully, unable to use stirrups sized for someone much taller than she. She patted the horse’s dappled grey neck carefully (it was beyond her to understand why the humans were so enamored with the creatures; one well-placed kick and they could split one’s skull wide open. At least halla had to work to get at you with their horns) and looked past it to the man, who was waiting quietly.

Patient, too. He was a decent enough candidate, she supposed. He certainly wasn’t painful to look at. She wished she could remember what it was about his face that made her think of…

“Adahlena! Where have you been?” Her mother snapped from the steps in Elvhen, “Anuon said you left hours ago.”

“Adahlena?” the man asked, not looking away from her. She grinned at him, suddenly very pleased with herself.

“One could say I’m responsible for all the eliminations,” she told him, and held out her hand in the human manner, “Adahlena Lavellan, Bride of the Compact.”

To his credit, he didn’t blink twice at taking her dirty hand and bowing over it. He did not, she noticed, press his lips to her knuckles as she’d seen men do in human cities. Good. It might be a courtly action to them, but to her it seemed like a great deal too much contact with someone she didn’t know yet.

“Cullen Rutherford,” he told her, “Pleased to meet you.”

“Are you?” she smiled, “Interesting.”

“Adahlena!” her mother called, and when Adahlena glanced at her she’d been joined by two others–the ones responsible for dressing her today, she supposed.

“I will see you at the banquet, Cullen Rutherford,” she told him, taking her hand back and turning away, “Perhaps you’ll still have time to wash your hands.”

Cullen Rutherford, she thought as she climbed the steps, Cullen Rutherford. What do I remember about that name?

When she turned away to walk toward the stairs, he was looking down at his hands, as streaked with dirt as hers were.

#adahlena lavellan #cullen rutherford #cullavellan #the red crossing arrangement #dai #my writing #and then she spent the next six chapters trying not to get attached #i remembered what the problem is btw and it's that this is a slow burn #i have a REALLY hard time writing slow burn #but i've decided to skip the scene i'm stuck on now #so after a nap and a walk i'm gonna try again #fingers crossed #after the event thing ended i was like 'okay phew i won't have to be posting writing every day i can take some time to reassess'#lol maybe tomorrow #shivunin scrivening

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earthtooz · 3 years

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𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑

suna rintarou x gn!reader / akaashi keiji x gn!reader (no pronouns)

synopsis: 'you betrayed me, and i know that you'll never feel sorry'

warnings: break up angst + comfort, mentions of alcohol, suna's kinda a d1ck and kinda toxic??? but akaashi's there to fix it, few swear words here and there (2k words)

a/n: akaashi the loml <3

you thought suna rintarou was special.

cause he meant a lot to you. he’s been one of your closest friends since first year at inarizaki, creating an unexpected group consisting of suna, the miya twins and you. they were your go-to people, those who you clicked with the best.

they all squeezed their way into your heart and claimed their spots, especially a certain middle blocker. you had a lot of your ‘firsts’ with him, first date, first kiss, first prom, etc; the list goes on.

so yeah, i guess you could say you were also pretty special to suna rintarou.

special enough that he caused your first heartbreak.

“suna’s a jerk for doing that, ‘m sorry,” osamu mutters as he cleans up the kitchen benches of onigiri miya since it was after hours. after graduation, from your little group of close-knit friends, you and osamu were the only ones that remained in hyogo since atsumu and suna chased a pro-athlete lifestyle.

you both lived busy working lives now, the high school days filled with mischief and goofing off were over, so perhaps you were being a little immature over this whole situation.

you sigh, internalising that thought, “it’s not a big deal.”

staring at the ‘read’ below your messages, you almost feel like breaking down in tears right in front of osamu, which was sad- but it was the truth. despite telling yourself for weeks that ‘crying over a man who ditched you in the bat of an eye isn’t worth it’, it still stun. you thought your shared history with the middle blocker meant something.

your last message said:

you: i don’t care if you’re ignoring me rin. just please tell me what i did wrong or what happened for me to have pushed you away and we can go back to being strangers or whatever.

now’s not a good time to be a bitch. (read 6:48)

normally insulting suna would always be a harmless jab, but you hoped that suna could hear the venom through your words.

“he say anythin’ yet?” the chef asked as you put your head in your hands, putting your phone face-down on the counter.

“no.”

footsteps approach you before a warm hand is placed on your shoulder, “hey, c’mon, stop cryin’ over a stupid boy, even if he’s been our best friend since high school, no one’s ever worth yer tears, especially ‘cause he’s an idiot for letting someone like ya go.”

“thanks ‘samu, it just hurts a lot.”

“besides, suna’s always been too much of a coward to make it official with ya, even after taking ya out to these places and spendin’ so much time with ya. he’s always been unfair, leading ya on like that and as much as i love suna as a brother, he’s a real dick for doin’ that.”

a chuckle escapes your lips, “you’re right.”

you’ve never known where you stood with suna because the line between friends and something more has always been blurred, yet it’s never been addressed. every time you mentioned it to him, he always said ‘whatever you want us to be’ with a nonchalant shrug before telling you that he’ll be taking you on a date on the weekend.

it frustrated you to no end, but the way suna made you feel was incredible- as if you were on a constant adrenaline rush and you never wanted it to end.

for goodness sake he’s even confessed to you and kissed you before, so you thought perhaps he just wanted to take it slow and not rush into things. then, he dropped the news that he’d be moving to nagano since he got invited to play for EJP raijin and you celebrated together, despite the looming sadness at realising that you wouldn’t be able to see suna as regularly as before.

he promised that he’d text and call as much as possible but that promise was poorly strung together by radio silence as your conversations became drier and drier.

when you thought about suna before, you would think about a boy who you shared many laughs and intimate moments. now, his name caused you to cringe and thinking about high school became a sour time.

“need any help with cleaning?” you asked the grey-haired.

“nah, aren’t ya here to write yer article? go finish that up.”

with a nod, you decide to listen to him so you open your laptop lid and type the password to log in. an empty word doc is the first thing that greets you before you realise you need to open an email on your phone to access all the information you needed.

unlocking the device, all doubts and thoughts you previously had come crashing down on you when you notice suna’s profile picture flash across your stories bar on instagram. without hesitation, you press on it.

it's a blurry photo of him in a bar, kissing a girl you don’t recognise.

“‘samu?” he looks up at you, “i think i just got my heart broken.”

***

the inarizaki volleyball team’s reunion was sweet and much-needed after a long duration of scattered hangouts and group texts. the last reunion was two years ago.

as suna scans the room of onigiri miya, listening intently to the conversations of his friends, he smiles as everyone looks back on younger times. even kita cracks a laugh here and there.

suddenly, the bell by the entrance door rings, notifying everyone that another person has arrived, which was odd since everyone on the volleyball team was already present. there wasn’t anyone missing, was there?

“y/n!” atsumu’s boisterous voice calls as he springs up from his chair, putting down his bottle of beer on a nearby table before running up to you, engulfing you in a big, welcoming hug.

your laughter echoes throughout the crowd as everyone teases atsumu for his eagerness.

“i’ve missed you too, ‘tsumu,” you said after the blond let you go, “and i’ve missed everyone else too! it’s great seeing you all.”

suna notices that you’ve changed your appearance a little, your hair is styled differently, you’re wearing a jumper he’s never seen before but you still adorn the same cheerful smile and the way your nose crinkles is the same- he can’t take his eyes off you. you were stunning and the middle blocker realises just how much he’s missed you.

as osamu pulls you into a quick side hug, you point to the bags at your feet, “i brought cakes to celebrate!”

the night continues on and suna tries his best to talk to you, inserting himself into any group conversations and listen to you talk- it’s crazy how ignorant he is over how badly he hurt you, but it’s kind of hard to tell because of how happy and radiant you look under the dim lighting of onigiri miya.

“hey y/n, it’s been a while,” the middle blocker says when he finds the perfect opportunity to talk alone with you.

the resentment you felt a year ago is completely gone as you grin up at him, a soft, genuine smile playing at your lips, “hi rin! it has been a while, huh? good to see you again.”

it’s easy to pretend like the last text you sent him wasn’t one delivered in spite and hatred towards him, who had his heart in your hands and tore it into pieces with his reckless, immature behaviour.

“it’s good to see you too, what’s been happening?”

conversation flows effortlessly and somehow, there’s no tension despite having zero contact except for occasionally viewing and liking each other’s social media activities. you catch up with what the other’s been up to, how suna’s volleyball career has been going and what it’s like being a pro-athlete. he asks about your job and co-workers, nodding and listening intently to your every word as he looks at you with genuine interest.

a year ago, if suna stood before you, you’d probably refuse to look him in the eye and avoid him as much as possible- granted, if he didn’t try to first. a year ago, he unknowingly carried the remnants of your shattered love as he moved on to someone new, forgetting everything you both have been through. a year ago, you refused to try indulge in someone else, in fear that it would result in the same fate.

however, it’s refreshing to see suna rintarou as nothing more than a close, old friend of yours. it’s refreshing to look upon old photos and not only marvel endlessly at the boy who was so unforgivingly and effortlessly himself.

catching up with him now proves that you still harbour so much love and adoration for the man, although this time, it’s different.

osamu notices from the corner of his eye that you’re caught up in conversation with the man who you were crying to him about many moons ago, and even he notices the change. you’re looking at suna differently now, the glint of reverence and devotion no longer there.

no, because you’ve found someone else now.

“y/n, akaashi’s here,” osamu informs you as he hands you your phone, curtly nodding at suna.

the chef still feels a little protective over you, no matter how much he loved suna, osamu could never forget how helpless you looked.

suna however, tries to hide his surprised expression at hearing a male’s name come out of osamu’s mouth. akaashi? why was that name so familiar?

“is he? do you mind if he comes in for a little bit?” you asked and osamu shakes his head.

“invite him in, i’ve been waiting to catch up with your boyfriend for a while now,” he teases, neither of you aware of how suna tenses at the title rolling out of osamu's mouth.

you roll your eyes, “shut up.”

moments later, when the door to onigiri miya sings again, notifying that someone has entered, you stand in the entrance hand-in-hand with a black-haired man who the others recognise.

“fukurodani’s setter?” atsumu exclaims, “what’s he doing here?”

“fukurodani’s setter- and my boyfriend.”

atsumu squeals in delight, and it has you doubling over in laughter as akaashi smiles in amusement.

“nice to meet you all,” akaashi greets with a small wave.

osamu’s first to talk to him, after all, the two were vaguely familiar with each other since the grey-haired twin was the one you came to first to chat about your new romance, meeting akaashi so you could get the best friend’s approval. additionally, they did have an unexpected meeting at a volleyball game last year which osamu told you about, so you suppose you couldn’t call them ‘strangers’.

suna silently observes akaashi as his hand rests on the small of your back; comfortably affectionate. he’s got this professional air to him, even as he talks freely with the ex-members, what about? suna doesn’t know, and doesn’t care because all he can see is the way you softly beam at your boyfriend.

you used to look at him like that too.

and when you’re talking, akaashi is looking at you as if all that matters in the world is you, giving you his whole, undivided attention- just like how suna used to.

it’s easy to pretend as if suna didn’t heartlessly abandon you a year ago, because akaashi was there to pick up the pieces of a fractured love and carefully mended it together to show you the world in a new light.

“how long have you two been together?” kita asked respectfully, breaking suna out of his train of thoughts.

“we’ve been together for eight months now, approaching nine,” you answered without hesitation and akaashi nods in agreement.

“best months of my life,” your boyfriend whispered in your ear, wanting no one else to hear but you and you gush at his flirty quip.

“i love you, keiji,” you murmur in response.

akaashi softens, “and i, you, y/n.”

you catch suna’s eye in the crowd and his mouths goes dry as he gives you a supportive nod. his heart clenches when you give him one of your genuine, dazzling smiles in return because after all this time, you still harbour so much love for suna. the reason why it’s different is because you’ve found a better love, located in the lucky man that held you in his arms.

#suna rintarou x reader #rintarou suna x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x you #suna rintarou x you #suna rintarou fluff #suna fluff #suna rintarou x reader fic #suna rintarou x reader imagine #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi fluff #akaashi keiji fluff #suna rintarou angst #suna rintarou x reader angst #akaashi x reader fic

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sukirichi · 4 years

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request: SWIMSUIT SHOPPING WITH JJK CHARACTERS — (yuuji, megumi, and gojo satoru ver!)

notes: i’ve reached a point in hell of no return, help 😩 anon knows exactly what she’s talking about and i’d be more than honoured to add on to this concept

warnings: nsfw content such as public sex, overstimulation, degradation, manhandling, oral sex (f and m receiving), road head, and slight cumplay (nsfw under the cut!) + this is unedited/not proofread,

(all minor characters are aged up)

masterlist ! requests are open

ITADORI YUUJI

he’s a pretty innocent boy

in a way that he’s not always dirty minded instead of him totally being...well, inexperienced

so when you ask him if he can come with you pick a swimsuit, he happily agrees

he loves going shopping with you and is extremely patient even if you take half an hour in just one shop

he’d happily carry your bags for you

seriously, this man is so low maintenance, he’s not going to ask for anything else or whine that you’re taking too long or that he’s hungry

he’s REALLY really patient and supportive of you

and even though he’s not an expert in women’s fashion, he’ll honestly give his opinions if he thinks a dress or shoe looks good on you or no

he might also remind you just how convenient your outfit would be on the event you plan to use it t

but this time, it’s a different case because you’re buying a swimsuit

now, yuuji’s seen you naked before so it’s nothing new to him anymore, but the moment he walks inside the swimsuit shop with all types of frilly bras and colorful pieces, he’ll immediately duck his head down in respect

he’s pretty fidgety the whole time

if you bring up a certain red polka dot bikini in front of your clothed body, tilting your head to the side innocently to ask, “how about this?”

yuuji’s brain will fry right then and there

he can imagine just how great you’d look in it, but he doesn’t want to be rude or too obvious so he’ll just nod and go,

“yeah, babe, that’d look great on you!”

he’s pretty silent the whole time, but really, all the blood’s rushed to his cock already

the whole drive back, yuuji is already so sensitive and clenching his jaw with his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel while you sit next to him, hiding your smirk

you almost want to laugh at how flustered he is, but he’s trying his best not to show it

but you’re not that bad, and so you ask him to pull over because the tent in his pants looks so uncomfortable and you doubt he’ll be patient enough to jack off in the bathroom when you both go back home

he’s confused at first, glancing over you with worry

“why, what’s wrong? did you want to go somewhere else?”

“no,” you laugh, pushing your hair back into a makeshift ponytail

and THAT has yuuji driving recklessly and swerving real fast and furious style because he knows what’s about to happen next

despite his eagerness, he’s still concerned about you, breathing heavily as you lean over your seats and start to unzip his pants

“a-are you sure about this? you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,”

poor baby is already shaking the moment your nails rake over his thigh, your breath just ghosting over his clothed erection which is already damp with pre-cum

this makes you hum in agreement because yes of course you’re sure

you had a feeling yuuji would be turned on with this little escapade anyway, but you didn’t think he’d be this needy already

now it’s time for you to relax your throat and prepare yourself because yuuji is THICK

safe to say, all your arrogance is gone the moment you choke on his length, his big hands helping you keep the hair away from your face

meanwhile, yuuji is messily thrusting his hips up to your mouth, enjoying the way you just feel so warm around him

“f-fuck, baby, feels so good. i can imagine you already in that flimsy material, you’d be so pe-perfect, fuuckk.”

your chest swells with pride, always having been weak when it comes to his praising

once he reaches his high and paints your face white, yuuji lazily pulls you closer to him to kiss you, moaning when he tastes himself on your lips

you only giggle at how romantic he is even when your hands are still stroking his softening cock, and yuuji shudders a bit at the gesture

because he’s been such a great and supportive boyfriend today, you swipe at the cum near your lips, which makes yuuji’s eyes darken when you collect it with the tip of your tongue

then, as innocently as you could bat your eyelashes at him, you grin,

“would you like to see me wear it tonight? just for you?”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

PLEASE HELP THIS BOY

“gumi, can you come shopping with me tonight? there’s a pool party this weekend with my friends and i need a new swimsuit.”

he wants to say yes because duh

but he also wants to say no because he’d rather not walk around in public with a raging erection

and we all know megumi is big, like come on, he’s toji’s son

like yuuji, i don’t think megumi is that perverted either, but he’s still a teenage boy with raging hormones

he may have more control over himself than yuuji, but he knows his limits

a swimsuit is honestly so innocent — it’s not even half as tempting as when you surprised him with a white lingerie set (which resulted you two in not getting out of bed the whole weekend lmao) so he wonders why the hell he’s so nervous

eventually he convinces himself that going with your girlfriend while she shops for a swimsuit isn’t anything new and it’s just a “normal couple thing” so bedgrudingly, he sighs and agrees

which he immediately regrets the moment you head straight for the skirtinis

there’s so much to choose from, and his eyes widen at the absurdity of how there’s so many designs and patterns

i feel leki megumi is a cheapskate, so he’ll be more focused first on criticizing the price tags before looking at you

“25 dollars for this...thing?”

he’ll shake his head in disapproval, but then straighten up when he sees you frown

“i think it looks cute. don’t you like it?”

you push up a frilly pink skirtini, the shade a soft pastel one that just looks so innocent and cute on you

it doesn’t help that you’re gazing up at him under your lashes either, a small pout on those kissable lips

he admits it does look cute, even cuter because you’re the one wearing it, but he still doesn’t like the price lmao

or at least...not until he’s seen you wearing it

once you’ve both gotten home, megumi heads straight to the kitchen because he’s been so parched (he won’t tell you that he’s been subconsciously swallowing his saliva the whole time, showing him material by material until it all gets suspiciously thinner and more revealing)

he doesn’t like limiting you or telling you what to wear, either, so he just follows you like a lost puppy, careful to note stare too much at anything to not make anyone uncomfortable

but then he goes back to your shared room, just about ready to call it a day since you sure did take your sweet time, and he sees you strutting in your underwear in front of the mirror

megumi freezes at the door like a lagging npc LMAO

“...y/n?”

you smile, turning to him as if he hadn’t just caught you checking yourself out, which he doesn’t blame you for because you look absolutely stunning in it

the skirt just hides the supple flesh of your thighs, but really, he’s more stunned at how your ass looks so perky in that skintight material

megumi looks away, flushed, running a hand through his hair because he’s too much of a gentleman to outright say he finds you so sexy in fear it would sound weird

but you take his sudden aversion something else, and you wrap your arms around yourself a little consciously, voice turning small

“does it look bad on me?”

he immediately picks up on how small you’ve made yourself, his eyes snapping to yours

“no, you look amazing! why would you think that?”

you pout, “you suddenly looked away. it felt like you don’t really like it.”

at this point, megumi is such a blushing, stuttering mess, approaching you carefully with his words stll stumbling over one another

“that’s not true,” he sighs, rubbing his hands on your bare arms, finally letting himself loose and shamelessly staring at how your breasts are just right under him, waiting to be touched

the tension in the room begins to thicken, and you shiver when his hands trail down your hip before squeezing the flesh almost possessively

“beautiful,” he’d murmur almost absentmindedly, and by the time you’re practically melting in the heat of his gaze, megumi just goes ‘fuck it’ and straight out kisses you

he’s gentle though

he knows you felt insecure and so he wants to take his time with you, touching you in places he knows you liked, curling his fingers in just the right spot that has you seeing stars

he doesn’t do anything that would make your body shake, but it still feels good — a lot more like lovemaking

and it is

he wants you to know he loves you and that you’re the most beautiful being ever in his eyes

megumi will kiss you starting from your calves and up to your belly, where he hovers for a minute before changing his mind and diving back down to where you want him the most

small, kitten licks in your core that has you dripping in his tongue, your hands fisting his hair

megumi doesn’t stop telling you how pretty you look just like that, loosing yourself in the pleasure he’s giving you

he doesn’t neglect your breasts; one of his hands reaching up to softly pinch the beaded nipples which has you riding and humping his face even more

megumi buries his face in your heat in that moment, his nose bumping your clit every now and then, and you feel so beautiful with how he can’t seem to get enough of you

he knows this just by the way you clamp down on his tongue, sweet juices coating his lips and he drinks it all like a starved man

“cum for me, sweet girl,” he coaxes, his thumb pushing your lips open as he watches you come undone for him

“that’s right — fuck — you’re so gorgeous, so perfect, just mine.”

and just when you think he’s had enough, megumi only flips you until your core is right on top of his face, his large hands merciless as he pushes your hips forward and backward on his tongue

similar to before, you and megumi stay in bed all day long with him going round per round, never getting tired of making you feel good until you’re just laying spent on your bed, juices flowing out of your abused core

you push megumi away when his fingers slide in your inner thigh

but no he’s not quite done with you yet

“no,” he growls softly, pushing your hands away and pinning you under his weight. “i’m not stopping until you finally see yourself the way i see you. so divine, so ethereal.”

your body is something he’ll never get tired of worshipping

you’re hella tired

but hey who are you to complain

you only wish megumi hadn’t ruined your swimsuit with your cum, but after a promise that he’ll jsut get you another one, you lose yourself to another mind blowing orgasm

GOJO SATORU

let’s be real here

you know EXACTLY what you’re asking for the moment you dragged him into a swimsuit shop

you don’t even bother asking him if he wants to go anymore because gojo being gojo, he’ll be whiny about it, saying you could just surprise him the moment you get home

to which you roll your eyes and say, “this isn’t for you, gojo.”

hah, but anything that is yours is his, and your body is definitely his

gojo is nothing but bored

he wants to go home already and just fuck you already, and he’s getting on your nerves so you threaten that you’re not letting him touch you for a whole week if he doesn’t shut up and accompany you for once

it’s not that gojo is mean and unsupportive of you, he’s just so horny in that moment he can’t think straight

but he also really, really likes touching you so the big man just pouts and crosses his arms

sighing loudly and rather dramatically

it only takes a few seconds before gojo straightens up, peeking under his blindfold when you pick up a plain black bikini with the top knotted behind your neck

it’s not really your style though, so you’re about to move to another design when gojo whines

“wait, why not that one? it would look great on you.”

ofc you know i’ll look great on you, but it’s not your favorite, and it’s fun to tease gojo so you shrug nonchalantly, picking up a dark blue legsuit instead

gojo absolutely LOSES it

man takes off his blindfold just to glare at the material as if it offended him

“babe, what the fuck is that?”

“it’s a legsuit, perfect for scuba diving. plus, it protects my skin from the sun. i wouldn’t want a sunburn.”

the way gojo laughs is so cocky you consider choking him with the suit

“that’s what you have me for?” he points to himself incredulously, “i’ll put the sunblock all over your body babe, you don’t even have to worry about that.”

“please. i’d already be stripped down to my birthday suit before you even get to open the bottle,” you scoff, muttering under your breath, “damn fucking horny guy can’t keep his thing inside his pants.”

however, this doesn’t faze gojo

“and what’s so wrong with finding my girlfriend so sexy and hot i want to fuck her all the time?”

honestly what the hell were you thinking, assuming that you’d one-up gojo when this man would always be superior when it comes to being dirty LMAO he is just so shameless

but whatever, you ignore him, heading to the checkout with a self-assured smile

gojo trails behind you, his anger radiating off of him so strongly you can feel it

“y/n.”

“y/n, you can’t even swim. don’t fuck with me and say you’re buying that to ‘scuba dive.’”

“what, so i can’t learn now?”

“just buy the black bikini. it looks great on you.”

“i told you already, i’m not buying that and wearing it for you. i only dragged you here because i need someone to carry my bags.”

you know what happens to brats?

they get punished.

and that’s exactly what happens

gojo grabs your wrist rather roughly back to where you’ve left the black bikini, and not only does he shove it to your chest, commanding you to wear it, but he also shoves you in the nearest dressing cubicle

next thing you know, gojo has his palm over your mouth as he pounds into you from behind, absolutely railing you to the point tears are flowing down your cheeks

“look at you — not so bratty now, are we? you’re just a slut for my cock, aren’t you, sweet girl?”

gojo lifts one of your legs up in the crook of his arm, forcing you to look at the way your pussy greedily sucks him in in front of the mirror

you’re so wet that the squelching of your pussy, along with the slapping of skin, resonates in the cramped space

you reach behind gojo and move away from his hand, gasping breathily while your breasts bounce

“gojo, ah, shit — we might get caught.”

“do i look like i give a fuck, baby?”

no, he doesn’t. and he proves this by pushing you down by the back until your cheek is squished against the mirror, your ass pressed against his pubic bone

with the way gojo’s hips are angled and his long cock is hitting places only he can reach, you no longer care about people finding you in this position

your mouth is open, eyes rolling at the back of your head and drool even begins to slide from your lips

this makes gojo laugh, two of his fingers rubbing against where you two are connected to gather your wetness before shoving it into your mouth

“shut the fuck up, you slut.”

gojo’s large hands then comes up to grab and squeeze your hips roughly; you think he’ll leave bruises there or marks in the shape of fingers

he’s basically using you as his fucktoy now, paying no mind to how you’re crying from how he’s hitting in so deep and fast

your body just transcends into a different dimension

you’re fucked out, crying and begging for him to go slower

“gojo — baby — p-please, a little more gentle, ah, fuck.”

“what was that?” he teases, bending forwards to nip at your ear. the sudden shift in angles has the tip of his cock kissing your cervix, and you immediately clench around his cock.

gojo taps your lips when your eyes shut close from the exhaustion, barely able to comprehend anything else other than the familiar coil deep in your belly

“i couldn’t hear you, princess. speak louder.”

“slower, please,” you beg, placing your sweaty palms flat on the mirror in an attempt to hold onto something. “too much, satoru, t’much.”

poor you, his baby looks so tired and fucked out

with a sarcastic sigh, he kisses the pads of your shoulders, then bites the knot of your black bikini until the material falls to the ground

your breasts are now free from its confines, and his rough hands reach to fondle them

you expect him to grip it possessively like how he always does, but instead, he massages them with tender care, whispering sweet nothings in your ear

one of his hands reach over to where your hands are, looping it through your fingers while his thrust slows down

he forms a tantalizing pace of hitting deep before pulling out in a such slow, torturous fashion then slamming back in until he bottoms out in one thrust

it’s dirty, lewd, and still very much wrong — but it feels so right and it’s rare that gojo ever listens to you so you find it romantic

gojo isn’t the least bit apologetic when you’re both kicked out from the shop

because in the end, he won, and he holds your shopping bag with the cum-stained black bikini proudly all the way back to his car

4K notes · View notes

cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

It’s All in the Perspective

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4491

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Gun Violence, Minor Character Injury, A Peek at Angry Bucky, Explosions (if that’s a warning), Mentions of Stevie (I really miss him, guys)

A/N: So! Here it is! Part 4.3! After long hours of laboring and slaving away - kidding, kidding. I had a bit of trouble with this part, not gonna lie, because there’s a lot of feelings I wanted to try explaining. To do that, there’s a little sort of twist at the end that, once I decided to put in, made the chapter much smoother to write. I wasn’t happy with it at first, but now I’m satisfied.

There’s a lot of things happening in this one; it’s longer than I had anticipated because of the little snippet at the end I added. It’s got a few scene-for-scene things, but I kinda blew past it just to get to the characters’ emotions and stuff. Plus writing action like the shipping yard scene is hard when you’re not focusing entirely on that scene, which I wasn’t.

You’ll notice that the last little bit with Ayo (the Wakandan) isn’t in this. That’s because I couldn’t really find a way to fit it in and I’m assuming it will fit in better with next week’s episode.

Not beta’d, so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you wonderful people for reading and commenting! I enjoy hearing your opinions and what you like about the show and the series! Enjoy the final Part for Episode 3 and stay tuned for an announcement tomorrow about the One Shots I’ll be doing in relation to this series!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

You and Bucky kept sneaking glances at each other as you walked through the dock, weaving between the different colored shipping containers with Sharon leading the way. Every time you caught his eye, his ears turned red and he looked away, scanning your surroundings. Not that you were any better, immediately turning away when he turned your way.

You almost kissed him. Fuck. You couldn’t let that happen. He was your friend. Your teammate. He was the best friend to the man you fell in love with, who just so happened to be your best friend. Your best friend who left you. Your best friend who you promised you would watch out for Bucky.

Bucky…who you also fell in love with. Whether or not it was because of Steve, the fact of the matter was: you loved him. You loved both of them. And you’d never loved anyone like that before. And one left. And the other was trying to navigate through his shitty life. And you weren’t any better. Which is why, you decided in that moment, that no matter how much you wanted to - and holy shit did you want to - you wouldn’t pursue.

Yet. Maybe. Ugh! When did feelings become so complicated?!

When you started having them.

You silently grumbled to yourself, shaking your head clear. You had to focus and be in the moment. Now was not the time to sort out what to do about the suddenly rising emotions towards the cerulean eyed brunette currently burning with you with a gaze you refused to return.

“Alright.” Sharon stopped, making the group stop as well. “He’s in there. Container 4261. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry; we’re on borrowed time.”

You each grabbed one of the earpieces she held in her palm, slipping it comfortably in your ear. “I’ll stay back with you.” Sharon went to talk, but you cut her off. “I’d feel better knowing it’s not just you out here.”

She pursed her lips, before nodding. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

“Doll-”

“I’ll be fine, Buck.” You insisted, checking your gun to make sure it was loaded. Bucky stayed quiet, nodding in begrudging acceptance.

You and Sharon headed off as the boys went towards the storage unit. “Just like old times, huh?” Sharon raised an eyebrow at you.

You grinned, shoving your gun in the thigh holster she let you borrow. “Let the good times roll, babe.”

“Absolutely.” Sharon winked, before you two split up to cover more ground. It wasn’t long before Sharon announced company and you took off sprinting in her direction.

You got to her just as more thugs approached her from behind, immediately lunging into action.

“Hey, so, we never finished that conversation!”

You grunted as you roundhouse kicked a guy, hooking your knee over his shoulder and pulling him to the ground by the neck “Really?! You wanna do that now?!”

“Sure! I’m not too busy!”

You rolled your eyes at her reply, seeing her knock a guy unconscious before she turned around to knee another one in the face. “What were we talking about?”

“Why’re you holding back?”

“It’s complicated!” You elbowed a guy in the ribs, flipping him over your shoulder and twisting his arm till a sickening crack sounded.

“Because of Steve?!”

“Yes - no! Kind of!”

Sharon was on the floor choking a guy out as you slammed a guy’s head into a shipping container, pushing him at another guy. “You loved him didn’t you?! And I mean, like in love with him!”

“Who?!” You laced your fingers around the back of his head and brought his face down onto his knee.

“Director Fury!” You gave her a look which she snorted at. “Steve, you dumbass! Who else?!”

“Yeah! No shit I was in love with him!” You ran up the side of a storage unit to do a backflip and land on some guy’s shoulders, choking him out. Before he fell, you rolled off, tripping a guy in the process and elbowing his throat.

“Well at least you’re admitting it now!”

You were hit in the back of the head, thrown into a wrestle with another guy on the ground. You bit his hand, making him cry out, before you headbutted him.

“You couldn’t even hear his name without having to remind people you were ‘just friends’!”

“We were just friends, Share! You know that!”

You heard her shoot of a gun a few times as you smacked someone in the back of the head with the butt of your gun, trying to save ammo. “You really never did anything about it?!”

“No!”

She glanced at you incredulously from across the way, bodies now littering the ground. “And you don’t regret that?”

“No.” You sighed at her look, relenting. “Yes. Kind of. I dunno. I mean…he’s happy with his decision, and for me that’s enough.”

“But doesn’t it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts. It hurts like hell. But-”

“But you still have him so it’s all good.”

You bit your lip, shrugging. “Something like that.”

Sharon tilted her head, confused. “So why don’t you tell him?”

“I dunno. I don’t think either of us is ready.”

“C’mon. I saw you two earlier. You should’ve just kissed him.”

Rolling your eyes, you frowned when you noticed something missing. “Ah shit. My ear piece. It must’ve fallen out earlier.” You looked around, but Sharon stopped you, nodding her head between a couple shipping containers.

“Don’t worry about it. Mine broke a little while ago, too. Let’s go get the guys. Tell them we need to leave.”

You nodded and started running with her to the unit Nagel’s lab was in. You followed her around the corner, only to widen your eyes and shove her out of the way. Two gunshots rang out, Sharon catching the guy right between the eyes, while the man’s bullet grazed your shoulder.

“Ow, fuck.” You hissed, hand immediately going up to clamp your wound.

“Dammit! You shouldn’t have done that, you idiot!”

You gave her a look. “You’re welcome.”

Rolling her eyes, she quickly tore off part of your shirt. “Hey!”

“First off, this is my shirt. Second, I’m just making it more of a crop top. Third, it’s your own fault, so quit your whining.”

“Touchy touchy.” You grumbled, wincing when she tied it around your arm.

“Just come on. And hey,” she turned to you as she sprinted with your wrist in her hold. “My advice? Don’t wait. Seriously. I know it must be weird, the whole he’s his best friend, he was your best friend, now he’s your best friend, thing you’ve got going on, but there’s nothing else stopping you. Steve made his choice. And he’d be fine with whatever you choose as long as you’re happy.”

You shook your head. “But Bucky’s still healing-”

“So? He’s already been on dates. I think you’re just using that as an excuse to protect your heart from hurting again. Trust me; Barnes isn’t going anywhere.”

Not able to respond since you were making your way to the guys in Nagel’s lab, you bit your lip, hating that she got the last say in the conversation. She definitely planned it so she would. “We’re outta time, fellas.”

As if things couldn’t get worse Zemo - that fucking snake, you knew he was gonna do something stupid - took out a gun he got from who knows where. You sure as hell didn’t let him have a gun. Before you could stop him, he shot Nagel, your best, your only, lead.

“Goddammit!” You growled as Sam and Sharon restrained him. “You fucking-”

The explosion came next, again happening faster than you could react. Bucky grabbed you and pulled you underneath him, covering you with his body as glass and metal flew around you. With ringing ears, you groaned, squinting your eyes open.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You were vaguely aware of the alarms going off, a red light blinking behind Bucky’s head. You nodded, his worried eyes softening just slightly at your response. “We gotta get out-”

“I know, I know. C’mon.” He helped you up, eyes catching sight of the makeshift bandage on your arm. “Dammit, what did you do?”

“I’m fine.” You pushed his hands off. “Go help Sharon. We’ve gotta move. Now.” He huffed, but nodded and moved over to get Sharon. You tried to see where Zemo went through the smoke, but he was already gone.

You four made it just before the whole thing combusted due to the chemicals in the lab. So much for any evidence or leads.

The moment you got out, you were thrust into a gunfight, rolling your eyes as Bucky and Sam, once again, did their own thing.

“Are they always like this?”

“Usually it’s worse. Wait until they start arguing about who was right.” Sharon gave you an unamused look to which you nodded at, ducking when a bullet whizzed by you. “I know. It’s so annoying.”

Sure enough, when Bucky ran out of bullets, the bickering commenced, making you huff and Sharon shout at them. “Are they serious?”

You shot a few more bullets before your gun started clicking. “Dammit. Unfortunately.”

“I’m out!”

“Me too!”

Another explosion and a person you couldn’t see clearly through the haze caused a distraction for you guys to get away, Sam practically shoving you and Sharon into an open shipping container as Bucky took care of a couple more bounty hunters.

“What happened? Both of your comms went out.” Bucky growled once he came in behind you, grabbing your forearm to study your wound.

“It’s just a graze. Chill your ass down. I lost my earpiece and Sharon’s broke.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his voice low with warning. “What. Happened.”

“We rounded a corner, the guy was there. I shoved Sharon, he shot, she shot, I got hit, he’s now dead. Happy?”

“You promised.” He snapped, finger tightening on your arm. “You said you’d save yourself first.”

“Buck, let go.” Grabbing his wrist, you tugged a bit, wincing slightly. “Seriously. Stop. That hurts.”

He blinked, his features slacking and his fingers immediately dropping your arm. “Doll, I-I…fuck.” He turned to go punch through the back wall to get out of the unit you were in.

Before you could respond and tell him it was fine, the Baron himself drove up in a slick blue convertible. You groaned at Bucky’s response to Zemo. “We need him.” God, you were getting tired of hearing that.

“You’re lucky I don’t bash your head in.” You growled at him.

“If you try that shit again-”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Sam raised an eyebrow when Bucky got into the passenger’s seat with no hesitation, looking at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but you shrugged and slipped into the back with Sam. Bucky and you always took the back seat. You had ever since the dumb little blue car Steve got.

You hugged Sharon in parting, knowing she couldn’t come with. “Hey.” She looked at you sternly. “Take a leap.”

“We’ll see.” You told her, sitting down and buckling.

“Do better than that, Y/L/N. And get me that pardon you promised me.” She told Sam, pointing at him..

“Thanks for everything.” She nodded, before jogging off in the opposite direction you’d be heading. Sam turned back to the front, an annoyed expression crossing his face. “You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?”

“No.”

You snickered as Sam shot you a glare, Zemo starting to drive the car out of the shipping yard, away from the chaos.

****************

You collapsed onto the seat in front of Bucky, leaning onto the knee he had propped up against the back. He glanced up at you, face blank, before looking back down at his metal hand he was cleaning.

“Here. Let me see-”

“I got it.” He grumbled, shifting away from where your hands reached for his.

Your eyes widened, stunned at his reaction. “Bucky, just let me-”

“I said no, Y/N.” Your name. Again. You can’t remember him calling you ‘doll’ since before the shipping yard explosion.

“Are you okay?” He merely grunted. You straightened off his leg, swatting his knees with the back of your hand. “Hey.”

He shifted again, planting his feet on the floor. “Stop.”

“No.”

He shot you a warning glare. “Y/N-”

“Stop calling me that.”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“What is wrong with you?” You scrunched up your features in confusion and concern. “Is this about my arm? I told you it’s fine.” You got no response except his eye flickering to your now properly bandaged shoulder. “Why are you acting so weird?”

He shrugged. “I’m not.”

You scoffed in disbelief, jaw dropping. “You’re not.”

“Nope.”

“Fine.” You stood up, brushing your legs off, the bare skin having splotches and smears of dirt and dust. “If you wanna be like that, go ahead. Brood. Be a child. When you’re ready to talk to me about whatever the hell is bothering you, like an adult, I’ll be in the back room.”

You only took two steps before he called out for you. “Doll.” You turned around, an expectant look on your features as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one foot. He looked up at you nervously, before looking down and picking at the metal plates of his hand. “I got scared.”

Your features softened, your head tilting gently. “Scared?”

“When you stopped talking. You and Sharon…you were talking. But both of your comms went down around the same time and I…it scared me. I-I don’t get scared anymore. Not the way I did when your voice stopped. I didn’t mean to hurt you…” His voice got quieter at the last sentence, his eyes looking to the purple handprint on your forearm.

“It was an accident, Buck.” You reassured him, settling back down in front of him. “It’s fine. You were still reeling it in from the bar. I know it’s hard for you to judge your strength like that. Steve had problems like that too.” You looked down at the rag he was holding, putting your hand out.

He licked his lips, before handing you the rag. You got off the couch to shift so you were sitting between his legs, his chest to your back. Holding his metallic hand between both of yours, you set to work, gingerly wiping away the grime, picking at the filth that wedged itself between the plates.

“He,” you chuckled, shaking your head at the moment you were remembering. “He accidentally gave me a concussion once when we were sparring. At first it was awesome; he got me my favorite take out and took me to the movies and all that. But then he just started getting annoying. Wouldn’t even let me reach for the TV remote on the coffee table a yard away.”

“Can I ask you something?” You hummed, tilting your head slightly when you felt his chin hooking on your shoulder, giving him more room. “How long did you love him?”

Freezing, you raised an eyebrow and turned to face him. “What?”

“You and Sharon. When you were talking…your comms were on.”

“How-” You swallowed thickly, a lump suddenly forming in the back of your throat. “How much did you hear?”

“Yours went out right after you admitted you were in love with him. Hers went out after you said you were just friends.”

Holding in a sigh of relief, you went back to cleaning his hand. “I don’t really know exactly when it happened. After the Battle of New York, maybe. So 2012, I guess? I dunno. I was getting up from falling for him, though. A few years later.”

“Was?”

“I - yeah. I kind of…fell again.”

He hummed, leaning back, taking his chin off your shoulder and unwinding his arm from your waist. “He’s an easy person to fall for. Hell, I’m pretty sure I had a crush on him once upon a time.”

You chuckled at that, raising an eyebrow over your shoulder at him. “I never said I fell for him again. But, yeah. You’re right.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “You like someone else?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Oh…” He cleared his throat as you went back to his hand. “Uh…so you don’t still love him? Steve, I mean?”

“He was the first person I really loved, Bucky. A part of me will always love him.”

Bucky fingers twitched in your hold, the fingers on his other hand tapping against his thigh. “You know…he loved you too.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“It’s true-”

“He left, James. If he loved me, why would he leave?”

You could feel his hesitation as his next words left his lips. “I-I dunno.” That was a lie. You could hear it in his voice. If there was one person Steve trusted more than you, it was Bucky. Of course he knew.

“Listen, I really don’t want to talk about this-”

“It’s in the notebook.” You bit your lip as Bucky shifted, pulling out the little notebook from his pocket. “He made lists - he liked lists. He made lists of things you said that made him laugh. Songs that reminded him of you. Little quirks you do that he noticed over the years. He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

“James, please-”

“He didn’t want me to let you know. But I had to tell you. You have to know. He loved you.”

You let out a shaky breath as he placed the book on your thigh. You stared at it for a moment, before grabbing it and placing it in his left hand, closing his fingers around it and standing up. “I think…I’m gonna go rest for a bit in the back room. Holler if you need me.”

You didn’t wait for a response, moving quickly to the small back room of the plane which you got dressed in only a couple days ago. It only had one arm chair and instead of a door there was a curtain, but you were fine with that, plopping down in the chair and reclining.

Why? Why would he bring that up? Did he hear more than he said? Was he trying to let you down easy before you could even tell him how you felt? Did he get spooked after dancing? After the almost-kiss?

You never thought of Steve in the wrong. After all he’d done for the world in his life, he deserved to be selfish - to be happy. And Peggy gave him that. But why? Why would he leave if he loved you so dearly? If he really did what Bucky said? He wouldn’t. He’s not cruel. He wouldn’t up and leave, without even saying goodbye, knowing how deeply you loved him and feeling the same about you. This was Steven Grant Rogers for crying out loud! He wouldn’t…right?

But Bucky…he wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t tell you that, especially knowing how much you missed the lovable blonde. And you knew his words held at least some truth. Actions spoke louder than words, and as something Bucky said repeated itself in your mind, you started slipping into a memory, your eyes shutting and your breaths evening out.

“He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

The incessant knocking made you groan, shouting that you were coming and mumbling curses. You barely threw open the door before his worried voice hit your ears. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

“Stevie.” You sighed, rubbing your eyes and looking over at the clock on the wall. “Bubs…it’s two in the morning. I just got back, like, an hour ago.”

He shuffled, pink lips in a pout, eyes round and distressed. “I know, honey. I know. I’m sorry. But I heard you got hurt-”

You shook your head, a small giggle of amusement leaving your lips and you lifted your right hand, letting him see the black split holding your ring and pinky fingers. “I jammed my fingers in a door. The doc said I’ll be fully healed in a month at most.”

His eyes darted across your face and down your body, scanning for any more injuries. After glancing at your hands again, they finally landed on your eyes once more. Next thing you knew, you were being held against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck. You hummed softly, running your fingers down his spine, moving the two of you deeper into your apartment so you could shut the door.

“Don’t ever do that again. I gotta have faith in something and if you come home hurt, it’ll be crushed.”

Your eyebrows knit together. At his strange wording. “What’s that mean?”

“It means you have to promise me you’ll stay safe, honey.” He pulled back and held your face between his hands. “Please.”

“I can promise I’ll try my best.” You teased lightly, smiling at him and booping his nose, making him grin, although it was strained. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? We’ll turn on some TV in my room and you can keep me safe while I get much needed sleep.”

That made his grin relax into a real one, his head nodding in agreement. “Sounds perfect.”

“C’mon, bubs.” You took his hand, leading him to your room. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and you’ll catch some zzzz’s too.”

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

“What the hell was that?”

Bucky turned to Sam, who was gaping at him in utter disbelief, looking from the assassin to the doorway Y/N just walked through. “She needed to know.”

“Buck, she’s been dealing with some shit. And we both know something’s going on that she isn’t telling us. Her “zoning out” isn’t just zoning out, and we know that. She doesn’t need you confusing her even more.”

“Confusing her?”

Sam blinked, his troubled expression falling into a deadpan. “Are you fucking with me? No. There’s no way you’re that naive. Seriously?! Man, c’mon!”

Bucky scrunched up his face. “What?”

“She likes you, man! Everyone knows it!”

The brunette shook his head, forehead creased. “No. No, you heard her, Sam. She’s in love with Steve.”

“Was in love. As in past tense.”

“But-but she said- she likes someone else-”

“Barnes!” Sam threw his hands up, exasperated. “You are someone else!”

“I thought you two were already-”

Bucky pointed warningly at Zemo. “Watch it. Wait, wait-” He turned back to Sam. “But I heard her-”

“Bucky…man…” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Listen, I can’t tell you everything. I’m not about to break my girl’s trust like that. But you gotta hear me when I tell you she likes you. What do you think almost happened at the party?”

“She - I - it was…an accident?”

Sam spluttered, eyes wide. “An accident? You two grinding and nearly making out was an accident?!”

“Woah! We were not…grinding-”

Zemo hummed. “Hmm…you kind of were.”

Bucky glared at him. “Thin. Fucking. Ice.” He whipped back to Sam. “I just remind her of him.”

“What?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! You remind her of Steve? Yes, granted your both dumbasses, but she knows both of you enough to know there’s quite a few big differences.”

“Wilson-”

Sam held up his hand, shutting Bucky up. “You like her. Yes or no.”

Bucky huffed, looking down at the hand she was holding only minutes ago. “Yes.” He finally relented. “Since the first couple months in Wakanda.”

“Steve liked her. Yes or no.”

He ran a hand through his hair, nodding his head. “Yes. Yes he liked her. I wasn’t lying about that.”

“So explain something to me.” Sam crossed his arms. “Why is it that Steve isn’t here, and you are?”

Bucky crossed his arms, brooding - although he’d never admit it - while staring out the window. “Steve…knew. I liked her. And, yes, he loved her, but he also loved Peggy. So he…”

“He told you to take your chance with Y/N, and he went back to be with his first love.”

HYDRA’s former fist nodded with a sigh. “Something like that.”

“You need to tell her.”

“I can’t.”

Sam groaned. “Why not?!”

“Because!” Bucky took a breath, trying not to shout and alert the sleeping girl in the room over, his ears tuning into her slowed heartbeat to make sure she was okay. “Because Steve has her heart, Sam. The whole thing just…I’m jealous of him. Because he got her first. And then I get mad because he didn’t do shit about it. And then I feel guilty because all the shit he put up with for me and here I am complaining…and then I just get…depressed because he’s not here. I used to be the one who fixed his problems. But after I got out…he’s been the one fixing mine. And I just…I don’t know what to do.”

Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I get it. That’s valid. But stop whining and moping around about it. It happened. And you need to get your shit together. If not for your sake, for hers. Because she lost him too. And she’s probably feeling those exact same feelings.”

“But…she’s his girl-”

“No. She’s not. He made his choice.” Sam nodded towards Bucky. “Now you gotta make yours, Buckaroo.”

He shot him a glare. “You can’t call me that.”

“Why not? Y/N calls you that.”

“Y/N has a plan.”

“We both know that’s not true, Buckaroo. Hey! That one rhymed!”

Bucky shook his head with a scowl. “I will beat your ass, Wilson.”

Sam scoffed, shoving Bucky’s head playfully. “Stop being a dumbass and tell her. Buckaroo.”

“That’s it!”

Bucky tackled Sam to the ground, Zemo giving them an amused expression before leaving to talk to Oeznik. They were so wrapped up in their wrestling session, they didn’t notice the woman leaning against the wall, tired eyes barely opened as her eyebrows raised, unimpressed.

“Are you fellas done?’

They both stopped, shooting up when they noticed her. “Doll, I-”

She shook her head. “Don’t, Buck. Not right now. I’m just really tired.”

“Did we wake you?” Sam winced.

She shook her head again, yawning. “No. I just needed to use the restroom.”

Bucky couldn’t help the small smile as she rubbed her eyes, stretching her arms overhead, making that ripped crop top ride higher up. She was too cute. And she didn’t even realize it.

“Sleep well, doll. We’ll try to keep it down.”

She nodded, turning and waving over her shoulder. “You two try getting sleep, too, alright? Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Night, cher.”

“Sweetheart?” She peeked through the curtain, tilting her head slightly. “You know I love you, right?”

A small smile quirked up her lips, but it was sadder than the ones his question usually elicited. “As long as you know I love you.”

He nodded, returning the half-smile. “G’night, doll.”

“Goodnight, Buckaroo.”

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

Lean on Me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t have to do that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile.

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

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

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

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

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

As in love.

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

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

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

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

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

The crease between his eyes melts away in sleep.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. Thank you; I owe you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do. Especially these.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You exhale, cross your arms.

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

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

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

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

You frown. You didn’t know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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cursestothemoon · 3 years

Note

yay for the open requests! I really reallyyyyyy love your Harry's older sister hc, could u pretty pls do more? like their brief life as a family with lily and james, then to the dursleys and then at war, so on. I agree with the anon that did the request, harry does needed a bigger sister❤️

aH I LOVED THESE REQUESTS

YOU GUYS CAN READ THE HEADCANONS THIS ANON IS TALKING ABOUT HERE

ok so this is L O N G i need to add a keep reading tab

alright so let's talk about harry's older sister

so lily and james did not plan you

they were straight out of hogwarts

just having fun

and suddenly lily is having morning sickness and james running into a store to buy a pregnancy test (or whatever the wizard equivalent would be 😗)

james would be so nervous the weeks leading up to your birth

he already knows that you aren't even here yet and there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you

and when you are born

he swears he'd never love anything as much as he loves you

his little girl

this sweet little lump of baby fat that was born with eyes just like his

he'd put his glasses on your little baby face, and he could laugh for hours at the way they just barely sat on your little nose (a miniature version of his)

your chubby little baby hands are his favorite

when you'd plan your hands on his face or wrap your hand around his finger he'd melt

Lily would joke all the time about how she carried the baby yet James is constantly hogging her

I think james would have some serious separation anxiety

Lily would also have trouble leaving you to go do something but she knew that you getting to see other people would be good

james is NOT a fan

and you were a big daddy's girl

"it's going to be alright, darling, uncle Padfoot and uncle Moony will take care of you."

and you'd respond with sad baby talk, something along the lines of 'daddy' and 'wanna stay with you' and you'd get all teary eyed

it's a whole dramatic scene

youre crying

james is about to cry

Sirius is quite literally trying to sob silently into his hand because you just look so sAD

and remus and lily are just

😐

because you guys do this eVERY TIME

there was one time james got back into the car with lily after dropping you off and he was unusually quiet until he kinda just whispered out

"It just feels like i'll never have enough time with her, like one day i'll wake up and suddenly she's not mine anymore."

his tone gave Lily the worst chills, his tone and the fact that she felt the same though never voiced it

honestly

i don't think harry was planned either

he kinda just happened

and they were like

you know what, yes.

so you were two when harry was born

and you LOVED your baby brother

he was so small

so cute

and he had your mum's green eyes

from the get go you were very protective of your little brother

james thought it was the cutest thing

ok ive been avoiding it

but we need to talk about October 31 1981

you were upstairs with our mum and harry

james was downstairs cleaning up from dinner

that was when there was a knock on the door

assuming it was peter, uncle wormtail, james was quick to go open the door

grabbing his wand for protection was the last thing on his mind

the thud of his body was loud

he was killed before he could even open his mouth to warn Lily

the door to Harry's nursery flew open and it all happened so fast

there was screaming

bargaining

a sudden flash fo green before Voldemort turned to harry

his cold, pale hand pushed you out of his way

the prophecy had said nothing about you, so he didn't care for what happened to you he just needed to kill harry

which obviously backfired

half the house was blown up

he was gone

harry was crying

and you just wanted your dad

you found your way downstairs, just barely making it down the steps

lily and james had never let you go up or down the steps on your own

only to come face to face with your dad just lying on the ground motionless

his eyes were still open

now i want you guys to think of the lion king

you know the scene where simba finds mufasa's dead body and just lays with it because he doesn't know where else to go

you just wanted any kind of comfort you could find

so with tear streaks going down your face you slayed next to your dad, getting as close as you could, hoping he'd just wake up

sirius is the one who finds you, asleep next to james' body

it was rather rough for sirius

and he could hear harry crying somewhere upstairs

you wake up to uncle padfoot trying to keep in his tears as he takes in the scene before him

you're just glad to see a familiar face

you run over to him, tears freshly falling as you wail about how daddy and mommy won't wake up

you also gently pull james' glasses off his face and keeping them in your small hand

keeping them safe for him later

you knew he didn't like to sleep with his glasses on

eventually hagrid shows up

you guys know the story

but i will say

it takes a lot for you to leave uncle pads and go with this big strange man

youre basically heaving as you beg to stay with sirius

and forcing you off his hip and onto the bike with hagrid was the worst thing he's ever had to do

even for a two year old, youre eyes held such a strong emotion of betrayal

sirius would never forget it

the dursley's were not fond of you and harry

you had james temper and stubbornness

harry was just a 6 month old baby

doing 6 month old baby things

for the first month you'd ask for james, lily, uncle moony, uncle padfoot, even uncle wormtail on a daily basis

until one day petunia just snapped

you had asked about sirius, or as you called him uncle padfoot, and petunia lost it

she started to shout, her hand coming out to strike your cheek as she told you that no one was coming

not now

not ever

you never asked after that

over time you forgot about sirius and remus and peter

you forgot about the song your dad would sing every saturday morning when making breakfast

or the way your mom would hum when she brushed your hair

all lily and james had become were familiar scents and the same pair of eyes you'd see in your dreams (though for a long time you just assumed they were your eyes, they looked enough like yours)

and you grew up always feeling like you were on the wrong side of a billowing curtain

you and harry grew up only having each other

you were very protective of him

and dudley hated it

because you had James art for pranks

and his art for rarely getting caught

unfortunately for you petunia and vernon didn't need evidence to incriminate you

you were often on the receiving end of disciplinary swats and missed meals

and you'd often take harry's punishments for him

you and harry were also forced to share a room

or cupboard

you let him decorate it with all his things (he didn't have many)

and you guys shared a bed up until you got your hogwarts letter

which that was kept very quiet

you got the letter

and petunia and vernon were just glad to be able to send you and your pranks away

you weren't allowed to tell harry

but you did anyway

secretly

you didn't tell him all the details but you told him that you were going to a school far away and you'd be back whenever aunt petunia let you back

going to school was interesting

you didn't know anyone

bUT HAGRID WAS ALSO THERE TO HELP YOU AND BUY YOU YOURE STUFF AND HE BOUGHT YOU YOUR FIRST WAND

you still have james' glasses

you put them on when youre nervous

so youre sitting in the train

first day

you don't know anyone

big round glasses sitting on your nose as you look out the window barely able to see what's going on

james was as blind as a bat

on the train you spend your time reading your new books

absorbing all the material

you were not going to just walk into this new school of mAGIC not knowing aNYTHING

by the time you got there you were at leas base level with most subjects

some were easier to catch onto than others

as long as you didn't let the logical side of your brain do too much work

within the first week you'd find out about your parents

curtesy of older gryffindor kids who knew your last name and were just amazed by the story

oH ALSO YOURE IN GRYFFINDOR

AND WHEN MCGONAGALL READS YOUR NAME SHE GASPS TO HERSELF

BECAUSE

Y/N POTTER

she remembers when james had written to her with the news of Lily's pregnancy with you

and how he was nervous you'd come out just like him and he wouldn't be able to handle you as well as she had, he was asking her for advice

and when you walked up to sit on the chair she nearly dropped her scroll of parchment and pulled you into a hug

you looked just like him

dark hair

pale skin

same eyes and eye shape

and same habit of picking at the skin around your thumb nail when nervous

the hat announcing you were a gryffindor was very overwhelming for her

then she realizes you

are e x a c t l y

like james

and merlin is she tiRED OF THIS SHIT

ok so at this point i am going to direct you to the other headcanon (linked above) if you want a more fred x reader approach

continue here if not

so youre on the quidditch team

and youre a natural

let me tell you

you just have the innate ability

much like james

and at first they had you as a seeker

and you were good

but you excelled as a chaser

i also firmly believed that there was a practice broom that james had carved his name into

or maybe just a ‘J.P.’

that was the broom you'd practice on

even use for games before you got your own broom

ok so

let’s talk your relationship with harry

you made sure you were the one to tell him what happened to your parents

as i said it was your first year when you fond out about what happened

the gryffindor student had told you what they knew

and you went to professor mcgonagall pretty distraught

you were near tears as you practically begged her to just tell you what happened, you wanted the truth

because all your life your aunt and uncle had told you that your parents had been killed in a car accident

needless to say

you didn't want harry to find out that way

but you also knew he was noticing the stares

the whispers

so you told him on the first night

he had already been put into gryffindor and was getting ready for bed when you are up to his dorm

bECAUSE IT’S CANON THAT GIRLS CAN GO UP INTO THE BOYS DORMS AND BOYS CANT GO UP INTO THE GIRLS DORMS AND I WILL CITE THE PARAGRAPH IF ANYONE NEEDS

and you kinda push out ron, neville, and dean

but yeah thats how he finds out all the details and such

ok so you and harry are sUPER CLOSE

and you are very��

v e r y

protective of harry

you'd do anything for the kid

wHEN YOU FIND OUT ABOUT THE WHOLE SORCERER’S STONE FIASCO

YOU ARE LIVID

because harry is your baby brother and you love him so much and don't like seeing him hurt 🥺

as harry grows older he gets a bit more

embarrassed

about having you protective over him

and im pretty sure i mentioned this in the last headcanon post

but yeah he’d be like 14 and you'd be 17 and he'd just

“stOP this is so emBARRASSING”

what a little dweeb

ok leTS TALK ABOUT SIRIUS

BECAUSE YOU AND SIRIUS WERE CLOSE WHEN YOU WERE YOUNGER

HE WAS UNCLE PADFOOT

YOU LOVED HIM

until your fifth year (harry’ third) when you were told he betrayed your parents and got them killed

youre in the whomping willow when with harry, hermione, and ron

its a lot for both of you

because sirius is seeing his goddaughter who looks just like james, and his the same fire in her eyes as his bestrfriend

his b r o t h e r

and youre seeing the man who was responsible for your parents murder

again

it was A LOT

i have a feeling you, JAMES POTTERS DAUGHTER, would just lunge at him

and youre crying

trying to hit him

hurt him like he hurt you

just anything to bring pain upon this man

and sirius is having flashbacks of when you had ran to him from next to james’ lifeless body

and how different everything had been just days prior to October 31 1981

upon finding out the truth

scammers is now wormtail

peter ‘little bitch ass’ pettigrew

you and harry are immediately forming this connection

this sort of dependency on sirius

within a few minutes

because he is the only living connection you have to your dad

apart from yourselves of course

but eh was the only reminder that james potter was a real man

and lily potter did exist

and there was a time where your family was complete

it never crossed your mind that any more misfortune could strike

not now

not when you finally got back your uncle pads

and then you guys walk into the moonlight, the full moon light

everything flips instantly

you guys are back to square one

i like to think you have a very big part in getting sirius free

so you guys know what happen in between prisoner of azkaban and order of the phoenix

and this headcanon is already getting very long and we haven't even gotten to the wAR YET

so we are doing a little time jump

order of the phoenix

your last year

you are living with sirius in grimmauld place

petunia and vernon kicked you out once you turned 17 after finding out that was the legal age in the wizarding world

you and sirius are close

super close

i mean he is like a father figure to you

he is uncle pads again

oOO AND OK

AFTER FINDING OUT HIS DAD AND HIS BROS 😤

WERE ALL UNREGISTERED ANIMAGI

OBVIOUSLY YOU WANTED TO BE ONE TOO

youre a gazelle

it just makes sense

father figure sirius is not happy when he finds out

uncle pads, however, couldn't be happier

its finally starting to feel like a family again

you and harry have sirius

aLSO REMUS

icon

anyway

everything is falling into place

you and harry are filling the james sized hole in Sirius’ heart (not completely but it’s better)

and he is doing the same for you two

you and harry love your uncle pads

then the battle in the department of mysteries happens

youre there

you see it

you watch as bellatrix hits sirius with a curse

youre not sure which

nothing too serious you hope, and seeing that he’s still standing he should be fine

but then he stumbles

she's stunned him perhaps

and he makes eye contact with you

there was a look so final, so sad

yet so relieved in his eyes as you watched him fall through the veil

remus grabbed harry

tonks held you

if she hadn’t been you knew you would've thrown yourself into the veil after him

its a whirlwind from then on let me tell you

so we know what happens

all that fun stuff

the war hits

harry, hermione, and ron leave

youre left with the weasley’s

it’s hard being away from harry

not knowing if he was ok

if he was even alive

you guys finally reunite at shell cottage

bill calls you the second he sees harry, hermione, ron, and dobby apparate in front of his house

you were quick to pull harry into a bone crushing hug

keen on never letting go

because after all he is still (and always will be) your baby brother

you guys are all at the battle of hogwarts

oK WAIT

YOU REFUSE TO LET HARRY WALK TO HIS DEATH ALONE

ALSO YOUVE FIGURED WHAT HE PLANS ON DOING BUT NEITHER OF YOU HAVE SAID ANYTHING

NOT WANTING TO ACCEPT THAT THIS COULD BE THE LAST TIME YOU GUYS SEE EACH OTHER

AND THE RESURRECTION STONE COMES OUT

BOTH YOU AND HARRY ARE HOLDING ONTO IT

AND SUDDENLY

SIRIUS

REMUS

THERE ALL THERE

EVEN A WOMAN WITH RED HAIR

AND A MAN WHO LOOKS PAINFULLY FAMILIAR

ok so hear me out

i think harry enjoyed looking at pictures of james and lily

but you didnt

you didnt want to see everything that was taken from you

so you weren’t super aware of what your dad actually looked like seeing as you avoided pictures of him and your mom like the plague

but you just knew

and james was standing there

beaming

and he just looked so proud of you and harry

so did lily

she was the first one to say something

“Your father and I are so proud of the both of you”

and you just broke down

james right there with you

he watched as you sobbed, choking on your cries

and he couldn’t do anything about it

he couldn’t hold you or comfort you

he couldn’t be a dad

and it broke him

as much as it could break a dead man

“you’ve grown so beautiful, darling” he'd smile sadly

his voice seemed to bring back all of your memories once lost

“have you always been here, with us?”

“always.”

“typical, your father shows up and everyone forgets about uncle padfoot”

both you and harry laugh at that

but the mood was somber

harry then speaks up

“does it hurt?”

it was the first time either of you had confirmed that you both knew what was going to happen

“dying? not at all, quicker than falling asleep.”

“will you stay with me?”

“until the very end.

james is the one who answers, looking teary eyes at his son

and you know you cant go any further

harry has to do this alone

its quite symbolic actually

the one time you'd let go of the reigns

removed the protective arms you had around your baby brother

he’d die

but you had to do it

so everything goes as planned

harry dies

comes back

we love a resurrecting king

and the war ends

when you got back home from the war

let’s say you are still living at grimmauld place seeing as it was left to you

the first thing you do is go through old photos with harry

any and everything you can get your hands on

you see your mother’s sparkling green eyes

the same eyes your brother had

and your father’s unruly mop of curls

the same wave pattern in your dark hair

everything finally felt right

tags:

@pogueslandia

@vsawyer1989

@lifeofkaze

@siriusement

@erinruby003

@maybesandohnos

@onlyfreds

@fullofsourgrapes

#harry potter x sister!reader #james potter headcanon #harry potter headcanon #potter!reader

595 notes · View notes

mechanicalhandsblog · 3 years

Text

Little Did You Know

Pairing: Otto Octavius x Fem!reader

Summary: You’re a scientist, helping Otto Octavius with his fusion reactor. It’s the day before the demonstration and tensions are high. Feelings are confessed.

Warnings: none, fluff and cuteness

Word Count: 2.2k

Notes: This is the first fic I’m posting on this account, I hope you enjoy!

6:30am

“Good morning Y/N! We have a lot of work to get done today!”

You jumped at your desk, nearly dropping the vial you were holding. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Dr. Otto Octavius hanging up his long dark jacket, and you could immediately tell he was stressed. The way his hands were fidgeting, unable to stay still. Tomorrow was an important day. His fusion reactor was his life's work, and over the past 6 months you could see his anxiety increase day by day.

He’d asked you to join his project over 3 years ago, when you were fresh out of college. Attending one of your own project demonstrations in your last year of schooling, he’d seen potential in you. A smart mind to help him reach his dream. Norman Osborn, rest his soul, had recommended he attend, telling Otto you were a “bright young woman” and “it would be a shame to not have her on your team”. That was all Otto needed to hear, and when he did attend he was not disappointed. The very same day he offered you the opportunity of a lifetime.

“A fusion reactor?” you had questioned, still stunned that THE Dr. Otto Octavius was even speaking to you.

“Yes. It’s going to be groundbreaking.” He had smiled. “It’s taken me 10 years of work to get where I am now, and at this rate it’ll take another 10 to finish it.” He looked up at your machine, the one you’d been demonstrating.

“But I think with your brain and technology, we can get there a lot faster.”

You smiled, thinking back to that day. The day your life had changed forever. Working with Otto, learning everything he had to teach you. It was something you’d dreamed of for so long but it wasn’t something you thought could be reality until he approached you that day.

You hadn’t begun developing feelings for him though until a few months into your new job. At first you felt ridiculous, like a schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher. Except he wasn’t your teacher. This wasn’t a classroom. This was a job, one you happened to be really good at. You weren’t a 16 year old, you were into your late twenties. If anything, this crush was completely valid.

He was a handsome man. Built like a wrestler but not a violent bone in his body. Not that you’d seen, at least. He could be someone else entirely outside of the lab. But that thought could be dismissed quickly by the fact 90% of his time was spent in the lab.

Many nights he slept on a spare bed, one used by practically everyone who worked at the lab. Being a scientist was tiring, but they also had a habit of never wanting to stop working. That's what the bed was for. The nights where you’re so close to a breakthrough but you can’t even keep your eyes open. So you go to the bed in the corner of the large, open lab and pass out for an hour or two. After you wake up, it’s back to work.

Otto’s apartment was attached to the lab, which is where he spent the 10% of his time when he wasn't working. He had given up his bedroom though as another spare bed for his coworkers. Practically the whole apartment was shared. The kitchen, the couch, the TV. He was a generous man and you couldn’t help but admire him.

Admiring his kindness and soft-spokenness eventually led to you admiring more of him. The way his hair looked after waking up after a long rest, tousled and unkempt. The way he rolled his sleeves up when he was trying to focus. The way he bopped along to music he played when the day was a little more relaxed.

You told yourself it wouldn’t grow. That your affection for the man wouldn’t turn to love. But you were human. Spending almost all of your time with a man you had a crush with? It was bound to happen. Now you were in deep, thinking about the man almost 24/7, fantasizing about what your lives could be together. What it would be like to kiss him, to run your hands through his curly dark-

“Y/N?” You were snapped out of your long venture on memory lane by Otto waving a hand in front of your face. He placed a cup of coffee on your messy desk. “Is everything ok, dear?”

Damnit. The ‘dear’ thing. He started doing it right away, calling you dear. You were taken aback by it at first, but it eventually turned into his natural vocabulary. And after hearing him call Harry Osborn and Peter Parker ‘dear boy’ you just assumed it was his way of addressing people, nothing more. That didn’t stop you from getting flutters in your stomach every time he said it.

“Yes I’m fine Otto. Just running low on sleep.” You yawned, timing almost perfect. “I’ll be fine after some coffee.” You reached for the coffee and took a sip, being careful not to drink too quickly and burn your tongue.

It was just you in the lab before Otto got there. Everyone else had gone home overnight but you. After all, your machine was one of the biggest parts of the demonstration.

Otto pulled up a chair, sitting next to you as he drank his own coffee. He wore his anxiety on his face. Tomorrow was eating at him. All this work, 13 years of dedication. He wanted to benefit the world, create renewable energy and help others. He was terrified it wouldn’t work.

“Talk to me.” You took another sip of your coffee and leaned back in your seat.

“What if it doesn’t work?” He avoided eye contact. “What if the past 13 years have been for nothing Y/N.” Your frowned hearing him doubt himself.

“You’re the most brilliant scientist I know Otto. It’s going to work. The fusion reactor at least. My anxiety is more focused on the actuators.” You sighed. “But I’m trying to be confident. I haven’t put in 13 years worth of work on them, but most of my college career was spent working on those.”

The actuators had been an idea for so many years, but once you’d gotten into college you finally had the funding to make them. A way to increase productivity and precision. It wasn’t until Dr. Otto Octavius attended your demonstration you realized they had even more possibilities than that.

He realized the actuators were the key to holding the “power of the sun in the palm of his hand”. Without the actuators he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere near the fusion reactor. You sped up the progress on the project, turning another 10 years of slow advancements into 3 years of hard work and improvements.

“Your actuators are genius my dear, I’m just jealous I didn’t think of them myself.” He laughed, looking over at the four long appendages. You looked at the large metal band that would be wrapped around Otto tomorrow at the demonstration.

“Tomorrow will go great Otto.” He looked back at you, his eyes filled with too many emotions to count. You smiled at him, and reached for his hand. “And even if it doesn’t, we’ll figure it out. We’re in this together.” He smiled widely and looked down. Your breath hitched when you saw a small amount of color on his cheeks. He was blushing.

He placed his hand on your own, holding it tightly. Your breathing became shallow as your felt him squeeze your hand. You looked at his hand, then his face. You suddenly became very aware of how close you were to him, and you cursed yourself for letting this happen. You’d spent 3 years trying to avoid situations that could avance these feelings. But you could tell he had so much going on in his head, you couldn’t tear yourself from him.

He was scared. Genuinely and truly scared of what lay ahead of him tomorrow. There wasn’t much you could do to ease this anxiety, other than be there for him. You thought about leaning closer to him, maybe even hugging him. Anything to stop him from looking like he wanted to break down and have a panic attack.

But instead he stood up quickly, letting go of your hand and walking towards his apartment. You sat there stunned, not expecting such behavior from him. “I’ll be out in a bit.” he said coldly, completely contrasting his shy and soft demeanor not 10 seconds ago, holding your hand tightly.

11:00am

It had been a few hours since Otto left you alone in the lab, being quietly shut behind his apartment door. Sure it was open to everyone but you wanted to respect his privacy.

What could you have done to cause him to just up and leave like that? You searched your memory of the interaction but couldn’t find the catalyst. He just got up and left.

You closed out the computer program you’d been using and decided you’d go talk to him. Nothing like confessing your feelings or anything like that, god no. You didn’t want to put that on his mind before something so important like tomorrow. You’d just see what's going on, see if you can get through to him.

Walking up to his door you were cautious. You knocked a few times, not too loud. You heard a chair inside moving across the floor, like he was getting up. “Otto?” You said quietly. No answer. Something told you he was close though. Little did you know he was on the opposite side of the door, trying to decide what to do.

What you didn’t know was that the moment Otto Octavius saw you at that project demonstration, he knew he needed you to be a part of his life. He needed to be able to see you every day and see you grow as a scientist. He needed to watch your face light up every time you got excited about a breakthrough, every time you scrunched up your face when you were frustrated. He needed to be close enough to know you, but he was terrified of getting too close.

His feelings scared him. Being in love after Rosie’s death 6 years ago was new and he didn’t know how to handle it. Rosie had been his only one for so long. What could he do that would impress you, a young and talented scientist right out of college. If anything you should have eyes for Harry Osborn, not him.

For so long he didn’t know what to do, and it had gotten to a point where he felt like if he didn’t act on it, you’d slip away. Who knew if you’d want to continue working with him after tomorrow's demonstration. What if you wanted to move on to new ventures once the hard work put into the fusion reactor and actuators was finished. He needed you to know before it was too late.

He opened the door.

“Y/N I’m sorry I was just - “ He was about to come up with some bullshit excuse why it took so long for him to answer. Why he’d been avoiding you all morning. You stopped him before he could, stepping extremely close to him. Your chest was to him, not exactly at his own given how tall he was.

“Otto Octavius tell me what's going on.” You said, sounding more demanding than you meant to. “Tomorrow is one of the biggest days in our lives and you’ve been ignoring me all morning.” He went to speak but you cut him off again.

“I’ve put every ounce of my life into this experiment, into you, since I started here.” You looked away from his face, not wanting to look him in the eye. “You can’t just start ignoring me the day before!”

You mustered the courage to look at him again, after a moment of silence. Still nothing from him.

“Are you going to toss me out after tomorrow?” You said accusatory. It was something that had been on your mind. After tomorrow what would he need you for? He’d have your actuators.

Before you could speak again, his hand was on your cheek and he was kissing you. You froze for a moment, almost not believing it was even happening. His arm wrapping around your waist brought you to reality, and you melted into him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, a hand grabbing some of his dark brown hair. It was the most passionate kiss you’d ever had, and you’d never felt more at home.

He pulled you in close to him, wanting to hold and cherish you as long as physically possible. You pulled away to breathe, shaking with nervousness in his arms. He rested his forehead against yours and you could feel his hot, heavy breath on your lips. Years of pent up feelings in one kiss, it was hard to calm down from that. Your hands ran through his hair.

“I will never leave you.” He finally said, voice shaky. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”

You pulled him into another kiss, letting him know you felt the same way he did.

What you didn't know was that he’d been wanting to tell you since he saw you that morning.

What he didn’t know was that you never thought you’d get enough courage to tell him.

What you both didn’t know was that tomorrow would be one of the most catastrophic and damaging days of your lives.

Notes: Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate feedback, let me know what you thought! Should I make this a series, maybe a part 2? Let me know! :)

Here is my masterlist <3

Tag List: @meiliariotz (DM me if you want to be added to the tag list!)

#doc ock #doctor otto octavious #doc ock x reader #doctor octopus #otto octavius #dr otto octavius #x reader #fluff #cute #marvel #spiderman 2

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hornime · 4 years

Text

film studies (for your viewing pleasure part two) | suna rintarou x gn!reader

he flipped the camera, pointing the back lens at the lewd picture of your lips stretched around the girth of his cock, looking greedily at the sight through the screen.

warnings: 18+, college au, camboy!suna, oral sex (m!receiving), consensual filming, very brief mention of dacryphilia

w/c: 1.2k

a/n: always on my knees for a mr. suna rintarou.

for your viewing pleasure: part one | part two ↓

after the party, suna had decided that he’d make the first move. he politely emailed your shared professor about the upcoming project, specifically about making you two partners under the guise of wanting to get to know you.

after partnerships had been announced, you were pleasantly surprised to learn that you’d be working with, arguably, the hottest guy in your class: suna rintarou. as the lecture ended, he came up to you, arms crossed and leaning on the wall next to where you were sitting.

“hey,” he said nonchalantly.

“hey,” you parroted. “looks like we’re partners.”

he nodded curtly, checking the time on his phone. “do you have time to start brainstorming right now? my next class is in a couple hours, so we can go to my dorm.”

“sounds good,” you responded, a smile on your face. “i have the rest of the afternoon free anyway.”

you trailed next to him as he walked towards his building, making small talk all the way. he mentioned how he heard you talking at the party you attended last night, and you chuckled hesitantly, admitting that you didn’t remember much of what you said. other than the whole spiel about porn, you though, but hopefully he wasn’t there for that.

he unlocked a door labeled with the number ten and held it open, prompting you to walk through.

you were met with an oddly familiar set-up: a beige wall, white bedsheets, and a tell-tale electrical outlet half-hidden behind a pillow. you racked your brain for a reason behind your déjà vu, when the realization suddenly struck you: the twitter porn. wait a minute, you thought. there’s no way that he’s... shit. he definitely heard me talking last night. there’s no way he didn’t—

“i was thinking that we could make a video.” his voice shook you out of your trance, and he approached you, closing the door behind him.

“a... a video? are—are you sure about that?” you gulped, heat rushing to your cheeks. is he saying what i think he’s saying? or—

“yeah, a video. for the project?” he smirked, mere inches from you now. “or did you have another sort of video in mind?”

you blinked in shock, hands fidgeting nervously at the close proximity. “uh—”

within an instant, his lips were pressed onto yours, and you easily succumbed to the kiss, intoxicating as it was. your hands groped at the front of his shirt as his explored your sides, guiding your bodies until he was sitting on the edge of the bed with you standing between his outstretched knees.

he pulled away briefly, cheeks flushed and pupils blown out with bliss. “you wanna do this, right? ‘m not pressuring you or anything? i know this was really sudden so—”

you cut him off by sucking on his bottom lip. “yeah,” you breathed into his parted mouth. “i wanna do this. a lot.”

he groaned at your words, eagerly ripping off his shirt and jeans and pulling his phone out of a pocket before propping it up against something behind you. he clicked the record button before focusing his attention back to you.

“heard you at the party,” he gasped as you licked above his collarbone and left open-mouthed kisses around his neck. “heard you say you wanted to s—suck my pretty cock. can i still take you up on that offer?”

you grinned seductively as you sank to your knees, gently running your fingertips along the inside of his sculpted thighs. “yeah, you can,” you whispered. “i meant every word i said. your cock is fucking beautiful. can’t wait to put it in my mouth.” almost as if to prove your statement, you palmed him mildly over his boxers, relishing in the slight moan that escaped the man above you.

he threaded his hand in your hair, gently pushing your head closer to his hardening cock. his gaze was heavy with lust as you yanked his underwear down his legs, before flicking his eyes up towards the phone camera. the screen showed the entirety of his body aside from his face, and your figure, crouched over his crotch. he shuddered at the erotic sight.

“pay attention to me,” you mumbled, licking a stripe up his shaft, swirling your tongue around the drooling slit and tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum. his muscles contracted harshly in response to the raw contact.

“fuck,” he muttered. “that feels s’good.” his grip on your hair tightened as you gradually began taking the length of his cock down your throat. “f—fuck. holy fuck, you’re ah!—amazing at this. shit.”

the quiet sounds of your gagging filled the air as you bobbed your head up and down. you could feel yourself becoming more and more aroused as his moans grew in volume, sending shivers down your spine. your movements became more fervent, your nose brushing against his pelvic bone, and suna practically whimpered at the change in pace.

“shit, wait. i’ll c—cum if you keep doing that. fu—“ he grabbed the back of your neck, stopping your actions entirely, causing you to whine. he smiled sheepishly down at you. “sorry. didn’t wanna cum too early. not before i get a good shot of you sucking me off.”

he slightly raised his body to grab his phone from where he’d stood it up, the change in position making his abs, damp with sweat, clench tantalizingly in your face. he flipped the camera, pointing the back lens at the lewd picture of your lips stretched around the girth of his cock, looking greedily at the sight through the screen. you resumed your maneuvering, hands clasping at suna’s thighs for balance.

as he took in the decadent scene through his camera, your watery irises peering up at him through lashes clumped together with tears and lines of drool tracking down your chin, he thought that you’ve never looked hotter. the combined effect of his intense attraction to you and the overwhelming sensations of the jerks of your head forced his hand to release your nape as he scrambled for purchase, clutching helplessly at the bedsheets below him. as he neared his release, his camerawork was undoubtedly becoming increasingly shaky, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as his eyes rolled back at just how fucking stimulating everything felt.

“oh m’god, oh fuck,” he sobbed, dropping the phone on the bed beside him to free up his hand, which quickly grasped the edge of the bed. “m’cumming, m’cumming!”

he released his cum into your awaiting mouth with a heavy groan, the white liquid emerging from his slick slit in erratic spurts. as you began cleaning up the mess he made of his balls and thighs with your tongue, his cock throbbed and he hissed at the overstimulation.

you picked yourself up from your knees, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, before plopping yourself down next to suna, who had fallen back onto the sheets and was panting heavily.

“we can’t... use this video,” he heaved. “your face is ‘n it. i can’t post it.”

“that’s all right,” you smiled devilishly, throwing a leg over his exhausted body to straddle him. “we can always film a second take.”

“not right now, though. we gotta start this project.” he shifted to sit up, but you pinned him down, hand pressing teasingly on his neck.

“the project can wait,” you waved his phone in front of his face. “but your followers can’t. especially not me, your number one fan. so let’s get to it, and put on a show.”

#HES SO HOT #i just cant do this #kinky.inky #haikyu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu! smut #hq smut #suna rintarou #suna rintaro imagine #suna x reader #suna

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sexyandhedonistic · 2 years

Note

hey queen!! just wanted to share a sp success story :)

so i’ve been into loassumption for a few years now (got into manifesting back on tiktok in 2020) but i kept doing stuff wrong and not really understanding it. i accidentally manifested this guy i wanted to like me to STALK me, which was not fun 😭 bc i was writing “blah blah is obsessed with me” 300 times a day and not making up any other nice new parts to the story (our relationship to one another was already complicated) but that’s not my success that’s an example of how confused i was and how wrong i was doing things lol. i’ve known since i was 17 (21 now) that our perceptions create our reality but i had a hard time creating new perceptions or understanding why that worked. so after struggling with my circumstances and the 3D and failed manifestations, this summer i decided i was going to take a serious approach to it and now i actually understand that everything we assume is true becomes true no matter how frivolous. SO my success story - after messing up so bad with the last guy i liked (the stalker guy) in 2020, i manifested a new guy into my life in 2021 but yk back then i was unnecessarily complicating things for myself so i made our circumstances sooo complicated 😭 and for the last year and a half i’ve gone back and forth on manifesting him liking me back bc i didn’t realize until this summer that i literally have full control and no one has free will in my reality. he goes to school in another state (im okay with this bc im manifesting getting a job offer and moving there in a few months) and he wasn’t supposed to be in our hometown in august at the same time i would be, but since may (the last time i saw him) i’d been saying to myself “i don’t care, i will see him in august, he will be home in august” so since this is my reality i did see him in august when i said i would!! but that’s not all!! all summer i’ve been manifesting that he’s in love with me etc etc, and the whole time i’ve known him i’ve been manifesting him having a crush on me just by genuinely believing and even seeing in the 3D (tho for some time i was using the 3D as confirmation which i know now is a biiiig NO) that he had feelings for me too. last december i had a total manifestation fail with him bc although i’ve manifested him to be my dream guy and treat me so well, i will just randomly switch up on myself bc i had abusive parents so sometimes i have a hard time wrapping my mind around that someone can love me lol, so he’d get close and then i’d push it all away! i’d start spiraling and telling myself he didn’t like me and things were too complicated with him, so then of course in the 3D he’d start pulling away 😭 like i just self sabotaged to the max and didn’t realize it until it was too late and he’d gone back to school again. and i like when he goes back to school bc it’s easier for me to see the situation clearly when i’m not so hyperfocused on him if that makes sense. so anyway back to seeing him recently, we were hanging in a group and we got even more close and he was talking about wanting to see me one on one before he goes back to school and wanting me to visit him at school! so i was like okay yes! so the other day i texted him, but IMMEDIATELY started self sabotaging that he didn’t like me and he wouldn’t text me back bc he didn’t really wanna hang out w me etc etc. for almost a whole day after texting him i was just despairing and wallowing and crying over it, just bc he didn’t text me back lol. the next day he still hadnt replied and i was sooo upset, (look at me reacting to the 3D and putting his ass on a pedestal 🥴 goofy) like i could not stop thinking about it and being negative. after a few more hours of wallowing i was like “girl what are you doing?? YOURE the one screwing it up. remember who you are bitch you are GOD and you get to choose if he texts you back!!” and i persisted in that i am that bitch and he’ll text me back soon for like not even two hours and then he texted me back 😭😭 and now we have plans to hang out this week 🤪 just wanted to share in case anyone else is forgetting their power today 😌💜

“girl what are you doing?? YOURE the one screwing it up. remember who you are bitch you are GOD and you get to choose if he texts you back!!”

You were SO right for that! You wavered but decided to take matters into your own hands and persisted anyway, THAT'S how you do it! Congratulations, angel! I'm so so proud of you!

#✉️#success story

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mcyt-imagines · 3 years

Note

hi! love your writing! could you possibly do dating headcannons for technoblade?! possibly including some kissing/cuddling :)

I’m so sorry this took so long!! I’m finally on break so I’ll be posting a little more frequently for now! Also I got very carried away with this one,,,, um,,, it’s almost 4,000 words long,,, can you tell Techno is my comfort streamer?? And gender-neutral pronouns as usual! (Edit: This is C!Techno btw, didn’t think I needed to point that out seeing as we all know the actual streamer is not a bloodthirsty half-piglin man but I just got an angry anon in my ask box, so I’m specifying.))

Dating C!Technoblade HCs

Techno being half piglin shares their obsession with gold, and in turn, likes to gift you gold as often as he can. Usually, in the form of jewellery that matches his own, he even gifts you a ‘friendship’ emerald, embedded in a choker you wear most days. And of course, if you ask for it, he makes sure to acquire a crown for you to match his own. As a man who forges his own weapons, he is aware of the process of smelting and sure, he could make the jewellery himself but he’s not very crafty with his hands. Dealing with the small potion vials he uses to brew is difficult enough for his large hands, let alone something as finicky and delicate as jewellery. But when he’d asked you to make your relationship ‘official’ per se, he did persevere and make a ring for you, he ended up making several and scrapping too many he didn’t think were good enough. This continued until Phil had to intervene telling him that if he wasn’t gonna hurry up and ask you he was gonna do it for him, mortified at the thought Techno buckled down and despite the ring’s faults, which were only obvious to him, he gave it to you. You adored it of course, and then he told you he had made it, and it only made you love it more. Techno had underestimated how he would feel when he finally saw you wearing it, he almost killed Phil. The two had been sparring outside in the snow when you had come riding up from the nearby forest, the ring on your finger glinting against the early morning sun and stunning him. Him blindly thrusting his sword forward, head completely turned to you as you approached. Only turning away when he noticed your horrified expression. Thankfully Phil was fine, but you were banned from flashing anything too shiny whenever you came to visit. Techno never heard the end of it from Phil and yourself, however, teasing him for it whenever you had the time.

Techno is a man of few words, for the most part. His love language leans closer to physical touch and acts of service. This man craves your touch, you can hold him so gently in your small hands and he can hardly describe the feeling that washes over him. He wonders if he feels contentment, or if he just feels whole for once. The latter terrifies him because he has no idea what he’s going to do if he ever loses you. That’s a lie. He knows what will happen. The voices will finally win, and it’ll be over. He’ll be lost in the consciousness of a mind that was never truly his own, to begin with. But when you hold him he forgets about all of it, his mind feels clear and quiet. Even if it's just for a few minutes he cherishes those moments, holding you tightly to his chest and simply letting himself breathe. You are his rock, undoubtedly. And now that he’s lived without you for so long, he never intends on letting you go.

Techno’s favourite way to cuddle with you is when you’re both lying on the couch, you draped over him, head on his chest. Sometimes he’ll read to you and sometimes you’ll lie with him for hours, begging him to take a break for once. Even Phil can’t pull him away from his work on his worst days, but you never fail to tempt him with warm cuddles by the fire. Another one of his favourites has to be when every blue moon you wake up before him, he’s quite a light sleeper so once you stir, he’ll wake too. But if you manage to remain undetected and get downstairs he will groggily trudge down the ladder, shirtless and hair an absolute tangled mess. Without a word he will simply wrap his arms around you, pulling your back tightly against his chest and nuzzle his face into your neck all whilst grumbling that you left him alone to wake up. You will always giggle and apologise with soft kisses and a steaming cup of coffee, of course, he begrudgingly forgives you. Those slow morning cuddles as you cook are some of his favourites. When you desperately try to scoot around the small kitchen to stop the eggs from burning and he merely holds you tighter, strength easily holding you back as you whine out complaints as he chuckles against your neck.

Techno is such a sucker for you whenever you kiss his scars. He has a few on his hands that you will always target if you ever feel if he is getting quiet or distant. Your lips on his skin always pull his spiralling thoughts back to the present, back to you. Whenever he starts to feel less than human you practically drag the man to your shared bedroom to remind him of how human he is. Sometimes Techno will tell you the tales behind the scars you pay particular attention to, others he won’t, you focus on those the most. Doing your best to lighten the dark clouds that plague him on his worst days.

Techno isn’t one for a lot of PDA, content to hold your hand and occasionally kiss your forehead. However, if he ever feels threatened by any of the other members of the SMP he is likely to hold you close and glare down anyone who dares look your way. But Techno isn’t intimidated by anyone at the moment, meaning he has no reason to act particularly possessive whilst you’re out. This man adores your hands, he loves watching how small they look in his own. He’ll kiss along your knuckles, especially if you’re wearing the ring he gave you, he’ll murmur a soft, ‘Looking gorgeous your majesty.’ Just to watch the way you smile brightly at him when he does, almost always leaning forward to meet his lips with your own.

Techno is plagued by the memories of his past, the voices a constant reminder of this. He can handle them during the day, but it’s at night when he’s most vulnerable to them. The first time Techno wakes from a night terror you are practically thrown out of the bed as he violently jerks around. Which instantly sets you on alert, Techno sleeps like a rock usually. It’s only when you manage to stand up that you can see him, his body is caked in sweat, strands of his long hair sticking to his skin, the sheets are even damp from it. ‘Techno.’ You try to wake him, knowing he’s a light sleeper. But that doesn’t work. Eventually, you cautiously climb back into bed, tenderly holding his face in your hands, noticing tears slipping down his cheeks as he practically trembles. ‘Techno.’ You call his name again, nothing. ‘Techno!’ He shoots up, sending you flying backwards again in case he threw a punch with him. His eyes are wide, pupils blown out. You’ve never seen him look so terrified before, he scans the room, eyes darting every which way until his eyes finally land on you. ‘A-Are you okay?’ You probe, the tears start again, but they are silent and run quick down his cheeks. His breathing is shallow and quick as his eyes seem to lose focus, looking straight through you. You move closer to him, ‘Hey, hey.’ You coo, unsure what the hell is going on because of course, Techno wasn’t going to tell you he has night terrors. You take his face in your hands again, wiping at the tears on his skin. ‘Techno you’re safe, you’re okay.’ You speak clearly before he pulls you closer, shoving his face into your chest, his arms tight around your middle. You wrap your arms around him as best you can, repeating comforting phrases until his grip loosens, and eventually, he pulls you back down to lie with him. You don’t ask him about it until he mentions it the next morning over breakfast. You hold him close as he talks, face emotionless and eyes blank, trying to distance himself from the events even as he retells them. You deserve to know the atrocious things he’s done. And yet you still choose to stay. Even after everything he tells you, you don’t budge from his side. That speaks louder to Techno than any confession of your undying love could.

Techno is a wanted individual and just by interacting with him, you’re put in danger. But being his partner doubles that danger by tenfold. His enemies will see you as his weakness and desire to use you against him. So, he takes it upon himself to train you, he knows the last thing you want to do is be the cause for his capture or untimely death. As much as Technoblade claims he never dies, if it were your life or his he would not hesitate to sacrifice himself for you. This terrifies you beyond belief of course, so you agree to let him train you. No matter if you already are somewhat skilled Techno’s paranoia surrounding your safety will always encourage him to push your skills further. Most early mornings the two of you spend together, sparring for hours until the sun is high in the sky or until you grow too exhausted to continue. Which in the early days, was often. But there comes a day when you finally best him. He doesn’t remember if he was going easy on you or was distracted by his surroundings, scanning the perimeter. He only remembers the moment you knocked him down onto his back, you look down at him panting with such a shocked expression. Techno looks up to you and holds out an arm, you take it ready to pull him back up only for him to pull you down with him. Techno holds you tight to his chest, the sun warm on both of your faces as it reflects upon the surrounding snow. Neither of you speak but you both understand what this means, you’re ready.

Techno isn’t one for grand gestures to prove his love to you. The man is dramatic, sure. But he finds himself yearning for simplicity, and you provide it. He doesn’t tell you he loves you very often, he is a man of few words, you’ve always known this so you never expected it. However, his actions scream it to you. Countless times you have mentioned small complaints about little things in your life and Techno takes them on as if the draft in your window had a personal vendetta against him. As if it had threatened your very life. You’d never seen a man fix a window frame so aggressively before. It was funnier to watch than you’d admit to him if given the chance. On one particular occasion, you mentioned his absence from the cabin, his explanation of the importance of the Syndicate and the new room Phil and himself had constructed. You understood and didn’t mention it again, not thinking anything of it but a necessary and temporary inconvenience. Only for Phil and Techno to be set up at the kitchen table when you came downstairs the next morning, the table covered in tattered books and coffee spill-stained scrolls. You were confused for a moment, spotting the Syndicate plans, codenames, etc sprawled out in Phil’s chicken scratch. Until it clicked. Hauling all of the stuff up from the Syndicate room had been a bit of a pain but the way your eyes lit up in realisation was more than enough for Techno to know it was the right choice.

This man cannot keep a secret from you. Most may think he isn’t very talkative, but you can hardly get him to shut up sometimes. Not that you’d ever want him to, eager to listen to whatever he has to say. He will always come to you when he feels he needs advice, knowing you will offer a fresh perspective that may give him the breakthrough he needs to make an informed decision. You are his rock and he never wants you to forget that. He may be more talkative with you but that doesn’t stop him from being a fantastic listener. Sometimes he can get zoned out when the voices become too much. In the beginning, you found it difficult to tell when he wasn’t able to listen, but after being around him for so long you’ve got a better knack for it. And sometimes you can’t and you keep talking, he’ll just silently press a hand to whatever part of you is easiest to reach. And that usually gets the message across. Sometimes you can pull him out of his own head, and other times you can’t. So you just sit with him in comfortable silence, usually, you’ll place your smaller hand in his and lean into him. The two of you have fallen asleep countless times like that.

However, sometimes the fact he can’t keep a secret from you leads to some comical miscommunication neither of the two of you foresaw. Phil, Techno and Ranboo had left for around a week in search of a new woodland mansion to raid, following one of Ranboo’s countless maps. Upon their return, Techno seemed visibly, off. He wasn’t being distant or getting lost in his own head, it was more as if he were actively avoiding you. Which was something very un-Techno. What made your worry increase tenfold was when you asked Phil if he had noticed any kind of difference the blonde merely shook his head. “He seems normal to me, mate.” Because there’s no way Phil didn’t notice Techno’s change in behaviour, which means they’re both hiding something from you. Knowing the two men quite well, you knew they wouldn’t break. But Ranboo would. So with your head held high, you sought out to find the boy, only to find out he was staying in Snowchester for the time being but would be returning in the morning. That night thoughts of self-doubt plagued you, wondering if it was something you had said or done that made Techno act strangely. But just as the moon was reaching its zenith, Techno came into your shared bedroom. He beckoned for you to follow him, after putting on some snow appropriate outerwear the two of you were on the back of Carl headed towards the forest’s tree line that faced the cabin. You asked Techno where you were going his only response, “It’s a surprise.” And to say your heart soared would be a slight understatement when the two of you finally reached the forest clearing. A small candlelit dinner for two inside of a dark oak gazebo. One that looked as if it had only been finished recently, the veneer on the wood still in impeccable condition as Techno led you over to it. You were truly floored by this display, stars illuminated in your bright eyes. “Phil and Ranboo helped. We brainstormed on our way back from the woodland mansion. And I, I knew I’d spill the secret the moment you asked. Sorry.” His apology and explanation are curt, much like the man himself. You hold him tight then, arms wrapped around him for as long as he’ll let you. He chuckles after a while, “C’mon, the food’s getting cold.” He pulls away after pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, pulling your chair out for you because Phil told him to. The blush you provide lets him know he should do it more often. As the two of you begin to finish your food you hear the soft strumming of a guitar and an equally soft voice to match. Floating atop one of the branches in a nearby tree, as if he were trying to sit on it, is Ghostbur. He sends a small and quick wave when you spot him before his hand drops back down to his guitar. “Wow, you really pulled out all the stops for this, huh?” You look back to Techno to find him now stood up, offering his hand to you. “For you. Anything.” You take his hand and he leads you into the middle of the gazebo with a grace you always knew he had. Ghostbur continues to serenade, the two of you dancing in your own private world until the moon was low on the horizon once again.

Whenever Techno leaves to go and fight he knows you worry about him. You do not doubt his skills but his luck is bound to run out eventually. Skill and resources only account for so much of the outcome, luck and fate determine the rest. Techno worries when he leaves to fight as well. He worries about what will happen if he ever loses. When his enemies will come for you, his past now liable to catch up with you as well as himself. He can’t have that happen. That’s why he keeps fighting, he won’t stop until he knows that if he ever falls in battle you will be safe from his enemies past or present. When Techno eventually does get back from the battle, without fail you will swear up and down that he cannot keep doing this and that next time you’re going to leave him to bleed out in the snow on the porch. You never do. But some days Techno thinks you’d be better off if you did. But those are the kind of thoughts you happily kiss away with a soft smile and a few gently spoken words. You are always the one to patch him up when he’s injured, which isn’t often but you remain swift with sutures and bandages despite that. No matter how badly he’s been injured you will always hold him so reverently, with such a gentle expression that it never fails to floor him. Most sessions in which you patch him up devolve into soft gasps and warm hands on your body to repay you for your ‘services’.

Techno knew you were different from the moment he met you. He acknowledges how stupidly cliché that is, but it’s true. The constant chatter of the voices in his head drowned out the first time he saw you, even if it was just for a moment. They stuttered and stammered, just as he did. You floored them as much as you floored him. When you were with him, they would quieten. As if they wanted to concentrate on what you were saying as much as he did. Not even Phil made the voices act in such a way. Only you. Nowadays they only bother him on certain bad days that grow more and more infrequent the longer you are in his life. You drown them out in a way nothing else in his life ever has. He doesn’t know how he can ever repay you for that but vowing to be by your side for the rest of his life seems to be a good enough start for the two of you.

The first time Techno tells you he loves you is when you’re in battle together. Techno, Phil and yourself had decided to raid a woodland mansion, something all three of you had done before with no trouble. But upon arriving, everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong. This led to the three of you becoming separated within the confines of the thick wooden walls. You were managing to keep a level head but fear was growing in the pit of your stomach. With every vindicator you took down another only seemed to replace it, leaving you tired and heaving for air. You were in good shape all things considered but you were getting tired and soon you would get careless, you needed to find Techno and Phil and get the hell out of here before things got worse. Your totem of undying tied tightly to your waist glints against the setting sun pouring through the large floor to ceiling windows as you charge past, enemies remain at your back as you plough forward heading for the set of stairs you know are here somewhere. As you spot the sacred stairs you hear a shout of pain followed by a deep snarl. You look over the stairs balcony to see Techno swarmed by a group of stubborn Vex. He looks exhausted. Bloodstains him, you’re unsure whether it’s his, the enemies, or a combination of the two. Techno fails to notice the Ravager charging towards him from behind, the axe raised high above its head. The half-piglin far too distracted by the Vex and the aiming of his crossbow at their stupid little bodies. It takes only a moment for you to vault over the second-floor railing and plummet towards the Ravager. You land on its shoulders and it stumbles, your hand shoots out to restrain its axe-wielding arm. The other hand desperately clawing at you as it grumbles and groans grow high pitched and panicked. Your legs wrap tightly around its throat until you hear a sickening pop and you fall to the ground along with the now very dead Ravager. You don’t manage to catch yourself, despite the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You let out a soft groan as a hand comes into view, Techno following it. You take his hand and he hauls you back up and onto your feet. Now that you’re closer to him you can tell that some of the blood staining his clothing is his, but you’re sure you mirror his look. He doesn’t let go of your hand now that you’re stood up and neither do you. You look up from your entwined hands to his face, he’s staring at you with an expression you can’t quite determine. “Tech-“ His lips plant firmly onto your own, swallowing your words instantly. He grips the small of your back, trying to pull you closer into him as if the two of you could fuse into one single being. When he finally pulls away to let you breathe your lungs are burning, soft gasps heaving in air. “I love you-” He mumbles the phrase repeatedly against your lips like a prayer, a mantra, only to capture your lips again before you can even respond to his confession in kind. Eventually, the two of you break apart long enough for you to be able to tell him you love him as well. You knew he loved you before that moment, but in reality, he finally realised how much he loved you. And for the first time, it didn’t scare him.

~Requests are still open! But it’s a little full so please be patient!~

#technoblade x reader #technoblade mcyt #x reader #mcyt imagines #mcyt headcanons #mcyt x reader #c!techno x reader

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

Text

Day 29, Story #1 is by @floreatcastellumposts

Title: In Vino Veritas Author/Artist: Floreatcastellum Pairing: Gen (Harry - Molly platonic/parent-child) Prompt: In Vino Veritas Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Heavy alcohol consumption, mild language. Molly Weasley was not stupid, and was well aware that young men enjoyed going out and getting drunk. She was not even particularly opposed to it - in principle - and she had to admit that she was very relieved to see George so excited about something. He hadn’t been excited in several long months.

‘Just don’t be too silly,’ she told him.

‘Us? Silly?’ he said, affronted.

‘I mean it, things might be safer but you’re all still targets - especially Harry, he needs to be particularly aware-’

‘I think he is more than aware that people out there want him dead. What he needs is a lot of alcohol to forget that.’

‘No, George.’

She knew he was winding her up, but she also knew that they were planning a big night out, because Ron and Harry had never really had one before, and in all honesty as much as she couldn’t help her disapproval, she did also feel that it was a shame they had missed out on such a rite of passage.

All the same, since George had let it slip, she knew she was going to worry, and her way of coping with that twisting, maternal anxiety was to insist that after their night out they returned, not to the flat in Diagon Alley they shared, but to the Burrow so that she could make them a full English in the morning.

She had also intended to stay up waiting for them, and to call the Law Enforcement Patrol if they were not back by half one to go and search for them, just in case something terrible had happened. But it was an awfully cold Halloween, and so she had got into bed next to Arthur so that she could have the warmth of the duvet, propped herself up against the headboard, and started knitting. The next thing she knew, she was being woken by an almighty crash.

‘Oh, fuck!’

‘Wahey!’

Both Molly and Arthur had already grabbed their wands in a panic before they heard their son’s exasperated voice.

‘Get up - get up, you idiot - George, hold him - oh for crying out loud-’

‘RON-’

‘Ssh! Don’t shout-’

‘Get him some water-’

‘He needs more than water - ahhh I have a brilliant idea-’

‘No, you don’t, whatever it is, abandon it-’

‘HEY, WOW, LOOK AT-’

‘SSH!’

‘That’ll be the boys back, then,’ said Arthur, turning on the bedside lamp and giving her a wry smile. The clock on the table said that it was approaching three in the morning.

‘Sounds like it, what on earth is all the shouting about?’ she asked, pulling on her dressing gown. Tying the cord tightly about her waist and slipping her feet into slippers, she listened to the commotion echoing up the stairs, and tried to figure out what exactly they were doing.

She could hear snorting laughter as she descended the creaking stairs, and Ron’s voice again, sounding remarkably grown up, saying, ‘don’t encourage him, stop it - put that down-’

She could hear saucepans clattering and tins falling, and the hissing spit of the gas; she looked over her shoulder to exchange a bewildered look with Arthur. ‘Are they cooking?’ she whispered, though there was no need, because there was no chance of them hearing her above the noise of George hooting.

‘Beans on toast, beans on toast!’

‘BEANS ON TOAST!’ came Harry’s echo.

‘Shut up, shut up, shut up, both of you, shut-’

‘BEANS ON TOAST!’

Molly had heard enough; she threw open the kitchen door so violently that George jumped and threw an open tin of baked beans several feet into the air. They landed with an impressive splatter across the slate floor. Harry, meanwhile, reached for his wand, but had instead seized a loaf of bread which he now brandished threateningly as he leaned against the counter. Ron had frozen in the middle of filling a glass of water, which now flowed over his hand. All three of them were still streaked with smears of paint from what she assumed were their Halloween costumes.

‘What on earth is going on in here?’ she demanded loudly.

Ron gave a heavy, exaggerated sigh. ‘You woke Mum and Dad,’ he told George and Harry pointlessly.

Harry lowered the bread, and held it sheepishly in both hands, like a child with a toy. George, in a carrying, apologetic whisper, said, ‘...sorry. We’re a bit drunk. Go back to bed.’

‘We can see that,’ said Arthur. ‘Harry,’ he added sharply. ‘What’s wrong with your foot?’

‘Oh, I… I fell on it. It doesn’t matter.’

‘He was dancing on a table!’ exclaimed George, with an accusatory point.

‘I wasn’t dancing, I was standing-’

‘Look at the state of you all!’ she said furiously, as Arthur calmly went over to Harry and guided him, hobbling, to a kitchen chair. ‘So irresponsible-’

‘I’m not that bad!’ said Ron defensively, and in truth Molly was rather surprised and a little proud at how he was being the responsible adult of the group, but there was no denying the heavy slurring, and the slight sway as he towered above her.

'You're not going to lose your bones,' she could hear Arthur saying reassuringly.

‘Mum,’ George was saying urgently, ‘Mum, can you make us beans on toast?’

‘No I will not make you beans on flipping toast! I’ll make you breakfast at a reasonable hour, right now you need to-’

‘Molly,’ Arthur called, ‘Molly, I think we’ll need some Skele-gro-’

‘Noooo - no, Mr Weasley, it’s fine, look, I can-’

Arthur gave a horrified yelp. ‘Don’t do that!’

‘I’ll get it,’ said Ron loudly, and, weaving erratically, he crossed the room to the Healing kit on top of the cupboards.

‘Mum,’ George continued, ‘if I hover up those beans, they’ll be all right, won’t they? Ten second rule, and if I let them boil for a bit?’

In short, it was chaos. Noisy, drunken chaos. In truth, she found it rather amusing, though it was still equally easy to frown and scowl at them. Somehow, and she could not muddle through the boys drunken logic, rooms were assigned and she found herself - and, again, she could not quite see how she had ended up in this situation, guiding Harry into Ron’s attic room and trying to help him into pyjamas. She had noticed before that Harry was a little more open, a little more affectionate, when he’d had a drink, but she had never quite seen him drunk before, and though the first time he had stopped her on the way up the stairs so he could hug her had been rather endearing, by this point she was getting rather fed up.

‘Mrs Weasley,’ said Harry loudly. ‘Mrs Weasley - I-’

‘Come on, dear,’ she said, more grumpily than she had ever spoken to him before.

‘I love you so much, Mrs Weasley-’

Her heart melted in an instant, she tried very hard to hide her smile, continuing to hold out the pyjama top. ‘You need to get into bed, dear.’

‘I love this whole family-’

‘That’s very sweet, Harry,’ she said patiently.

‘Bes’ family in the world-'

‘All right…’

‘Sorry, sorry,’ he slurred, and, though he was usually a very shy boy, he pulled his shirt off over his head, knocking his glasses half off in the process.

She looked politely away, but a few muttered swearwords made her look back, and, with a tut, she proceeded to help him untangle himself from the twisted shirt. ‘Hold still - this arm this way- that’s it-’

She had never realised just how covered in scars he was. On his chest, his arm…

The shirt fell to the floor, and she caught his glasses as they tumbled off his ear, and set them on the windowsill. When she turned back, he had one arm in the pyjama shirt, but was missing the other arm and twisting dramatically to try and get at it.

‘Silly boy, here you are,’ she said, helping him, and he started telling her thank you, over and over and over again. When it came to the pyjama bottoms, he seemed to realise that she was there, and gain a sense of shame, and he loudly asked her to turn away and not look, but when she went to the door to leave him to it, he shouted again.

‘No - no wait - Mrs Weasley don’t go, just don’t look - hang on-’

Finally, after the sounds of heavy, staggering hopping and a few more muttered swear words, she said, ‘can I look now?’ and he mumbled an agreement.

‘Oh, no, where are are my glasses?’ he asked, as she guided him to the bed. He sounded very worried.

‘They’re on the windowsill, and look-’ She pointed her wand at the bedside table, and a large jug of water and a glass appeared. ‘You’ve got water, and in a few hours you’ll have some food too, you just need to sleep some of this off. All right, dear?’

He collapsed heavily onto the bed. ‘You’re like the mum I never had,’ he mumbled into the mattress. ‘Mrs Weasley. My aunt never was this kind. Wish I’d been here all ‘long.’

She swallowed, and perched on the bed beside him, and reached out to brusy back his messy hair. ‘I wish you had too,’ she said quietly. ‘But you’re part of the family now, aren’t you? For good. I love you too, we all do.’

'I'm sorry,' he whispered suddenly, rolling onto his side with what must have been considerable effort.

'It's all right, you're just a bit drunk, you know I play the grumpy Mum act up a bit.'

'No. I… I’m sorry for everything I put you and your family through.'

She placed her hand against his face, and looked into his bright eyes. ‘I’d do it all again,’ she told him. ‘In a heartbeat.’

‘Would you?’ he asked quietly. ‘If you knew? If you knew everything that would happen?’

‘I absolutely would still talk to the little boy alone in Kings Cross,’ she said firmly. ‘In fact, I think I would probably go looking for him.’

His eyelids drooped, he sighed heavily. ‘Kings Cross… Thank you.’

Within seconds, she was sure that he was asleep, gone to the world, utterly unwakeable. She smiled, kissed him on the temple, and left the room. From the sounds of it, Arthur was still arguing with George about beans on toast.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #canon fest platonic #submission #tw: mild language #tw: heavy alcohol consumption

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ptergwen · 4 years

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can i put in a request, where the reader and tom having a huge fight, giving each other silent treatment for a whole day, until one of them breaks.. maybe when they're sitting together, tom like touches the reader's fingers before slowly turning into them hugging??

damn this one was so :(

warnings: swearing and angst throughout

“this is so fucked! it’s becoming every day with you!” you shout at tom, throwing your hands up in disbelief. “i don’t care, i don’t give a shit what rdj thinks or whose designer fucking brand you’re wearing clothes from.” tom chuckles bitterly with his arms crossed over his chest. “you know, most people would.” giving him a smile that has nothing happy behind it, you shrug. “well, i guess i’m just different.”

“yeah, you fucking are,” he agrees and looks you over in the most judgy way possible. “you think you’re so interesting, y/n/n? guess what, sweetheart? i don’t wanna hear about your shit either.” you scoff, rolling your eyes up to the ceiling. “oh, the vacuum’s broken! we’re out of milk!” tom mocks you, which makes you laugh at how incredibly inaccurate he is. “i don’t even use the vacuum.”

humming sarcastically, he drops his arms to his sides. “maybe you should, then. do something besides cry about me having a life that’s actually worth fucking mentioning.” that was too far. before it was just snide digs everyone has made one time or another. now, he’s getting personal. you can, too.

“you’re not that fucking cool, tom. you’re another actor out of the how many in hollywood?” you purse your lips, watching him go from smug to pissed off. “you aren’t leonardo dicaprio, no matter how much you wanna be.” tom takes a step back from you with a clenched jaw. “fuck off already. you’re so annoying sometimes, jesus.” he starts to leave the kitchen, but not without you getting the last word.

“ok, so are you!” you yell back. tom shoos you off with his back to you, then he’s disappearing into another part of the house. that wasn’t as satisfying as you thought it would be.

hours pass by while tom stays locked in the room designated as his office. he’s probably on the phone with robert, talking shit about you because that seems like something he’d do at the moment. maybe he’ll get a second opinion from jake. you take over the couch and find a movie on netflix, since you’re so boring and have nothing better to do. you’re too distracted by both yours and tom’s words to pay attention.

it’s a little after midnight, over half a day since your fight, when you hear tom’s office door creak open. that was the last time you two spoke. you’re still stowed away in the living room, a blanket thrown over you as you stare at the tv and retain nothing from it. tom wordlessly takes the spot at the other end of the couch.

his eyes are puffy, knuckles rubbing at his red nose. he’s been crying on and off the whole day. he feels so beyond awful about what he said to you, and what you said really stung him.

you pretend not to care that tom is in here, that you haven’t been regretting the gross things that came out of your mouthes and wishing you two could make up for them. you look straight at the dumb comedy playing in front of you. you’re not so sure what the right way is to approach all of this.

tom glances over at you, you discreetly picking up on it from your peripherals. he inches closer to you ever so slightly. your arm rests on the cushion between you two. testing the waters, he reaches down and puts a hand on the back of yours. you don’t pull away. he carefully threads his fingers through yours, a dry sniffle leaving him once your hands are connected.

you finally look at tom for the first time in too long. your chest gets tight all over again at how completely broken he seems. everything you assumed had been wrong. you let go of his hand, instead tightening both arms around his neck. he instantly hugs you back by your waist, face nuzzling into your shoulder, eyes closed in relief to have you back in his arms.

“i’m sorry, y/n/n. i’m so sorry,” tom mumbles against you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “i’m sorry, too. we were both wrong,” you reply quietly and lean your head on the side of his. he moves away enough to meet your eyes, hands staying on either of your sides. “your life is worth mentioning, all you do is. i don’t know what the fuck made me say it wasn’t.” your lip starts to wobble, so you bite down on it.

“i’ve been... a huge dick lately. i guess i’m just, i’m spending too much time in the spotlight. no excuses, though.” tom pecks the corner of your lips gently, right as a tear makes its way down your face. he kisses that away also. “and the stuff about you vacuuming, that was so... so sexist, and- and misogynysic. i’ll never say it again.”

you’ve never heard him use those words correctly before, so he must have looked them up in your time apart. the thought of that makes you let out a teary laugh.

tom smiles a little, pulling you into his chest for another hug. “you okay?” he checks. you only nod and grab at his torso. you look up at him with a frown still stuck on. “yeah, and thank you for everything you just said. makes me feel a lot better. i love you.” he brushes his lips against your forehead. “i love you, too.”

you let go of him so you can properly apologize next. “i’m really sorry, tom. god, i sounded so jealous and shit, but i’m not. i’m happy you found your people because i know that’s not easy to do. you’re allowed to be excited.” tom shakes his head, you nodding in protest. “and, comparing you to fucking leonardo dicaprio... who does that? that just wasn’t fair.” you both share in laughter at that.

bringing it back to a more serious note, you give him a squeeze. “you’ll get there someday. you’re you, and that’s gonna be enough when it’s time.” tom rubs at your back in gratitude and smushes his cheek against your head. “thank you, angel. that means a lot, really.” “you’re welcome,” you sigh out and give him a small kiss on his chest.

“let’s never fight again. i mean it. we should always just talk like this,” he suggests, you grinning at him, a real grin. “yeah, just like this.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland request #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader

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jiminrings · 3 years

Note

yoongi grills stem koo’s ass <3

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo wants to explain himself and yoongi may not want to listen

"hyeji's never packed you a sandwich before?"

jungkook pales at the mention, mouth drying when he sees yoongi bring up the soft smile that doesn't comfort him at all

“the one that’s all knuckle?”

oh my god

IS THIS A RIDDLE????

yoongi tilts his head in amusement when this pathetic excuse for your past crush is calculating what he just said in his mind

what is a sandwich that’s all knuckle?? but it doesn’t even rhyme!!

aren’t riddles sUPPOSED to rhyme????

jungkook’s more than well-versed in stem-related problems that are just rephrased 237 times over and over so that it wouldn’t be as easy to solve

he can solve that!!!

but this!!! :O his mind is short-circuiting pls do not approach him

“hm?” yoongi’s smile patronizes him further and puts him on the spot, straightening his figure and jungkook’s quick to stop him from coming back inside your dorm

“i want to-“

“i asked you — have you ever had a knuckle sandwich?”

yoongi enunciates with so much clarity that kook finds his mind blanking, tripping over his words he hasn’t even formed yet

“i-is it-...” he stalls, trying to rack his mind for the bread he’s not sure he’s ever even heard of in his life, “i-is it like, a pork thing? uhm, t-the pig’s knuckle? and then you put it between, uhm, bread?”

,,,, laughable

jungkook’s supposed to be smart, isn’t he? or atleast that’s what yoongi thinks he’s supposed to be

lmao he would’ve laughed at the boy’s poor attempts if only he wasn’t furious at him

he’s dumb but not the endearing kind ://

“no,” yoongi drawls out, pretending to fish something out from his pocket

jungkook watches in intrigue, thinking that yoongi’s reaching for his phone to show him a picture of what it looks like

the hypothetical situation in jungkook’s mind is clearly not the one that happens

jungkook SHRIEKS as he stumbles on his heels backward — crystal clear to him that yoongi was not looking for his phone, but instead balling his fist and him being the receiving end

almost the receiving end

yoongi almost sucker-punches jungkook in a blink, fist literally a millimeter away from his nose and the only thing he could see at the moment is red

... red and jungkook’s wide eyes that have never carried this much fear up until now

“that’s a knuckle sandwich, kid. would’ve fed it to you if only y/n isn’t in the room right behind me.”

holy fuck

his heart is beating right against his ribcage and that shouldn’t be possible, fists closing upon themselves nervously as he tries to soothe his thumb so his mind relaxes

spoiler alert: it doesn’t work

jungkook’s mind is all over the place, even more rattled than it was when he takes a text without studying (he was so low he got a 98), but the only thing that’s clear is that you’re behind this door

“yoongi — mister yoongi, please. i-i need to explain myself, and if only you let me try, i can!! i swear. i’m not forcing you but-...”

there he is again

jungkook’s only been in his sight for like two minutes but his eyes are already sore

“why are you even here?” he scowls and even if the younger boy’s taller than him, every bit of his posture and demeanor at the bite of his words scream small, “why go all this length for someone you stomped on today, then have the gall to be a crybaby about it?”

he's speechless and it only serves him right, looking at his mudded-up converse and trying to focus on anything besides the guilt within

"m-my explanation," jungkook mutters, hands behind his back as if he's being scolded, “will you tell y/n?”

yoongi releases an agitated breath at him muttering your name

he dOESN'T get to say your name!! no!!! not after what he did to you

“i’m not concerned about you. what i decide to do or not, has nothing to do with whatever you say right now.”

kook solemnly nods, and even if yoongi's much harsher in your words compared to yours, the gravity of yours with him not being related to you cuts deeper

there's nothing else he could care about, actually

jungkook follows campus curfews to a T and would come home two hours earlier in the rare event that he goes somewhere

but now, he couldn't care less when the dorm master could just be there any second and he'd pass a hall monitor like usual

for the whole day, you were the only one that occupied his mind

"i know hyeji isn’t the one."

god, it was clear as day

he'll be the first one to admit that he can't read people very well, but he knew from the start that it's probably not hyeji who's been packing his lunchboxes

jungkook sometimes takes attendance in behalf of the professor because as much as he's shy, he's also a teacher's pet

the classes she shared with hyeji? she wasn't present everyday for the whole duration of two weeks, and how could it be that she still managed to make him a lunchbox if she wasn't present in the campus at all?

there was a probability that it could've been her, but it was so low that it sat right next to improbable

"i-i entertained the possibility briefly that she was, but then nothing was making sense the more i thought about it."

jungkook sometimes also checks papers because his professors trust him enough and he has perfect scores anyway, so he uses his own as his answer key

"i needed to interview y/n for an assignment, a-and a signature above a name was needed and it was just so familiar."

the moment he racks his head for hyeji's writing, it seemed fAR from the writing on the sticky notes on the lunchboxes

"then she seemed mad at me, but when i went to her on the field to try and confront her-" jungkook pauses and almost whispers the next part, the shame on his skin starting to seep into his bones, "she told me that we weren't related for me to feel hurt about it."

yoongi clenches his jaw, a pressure forming on the center of his eyebrows because he knows where this is leading

"a-and i thought it was hyeji again."

jungkook can't bring himself to be elated that it's been you the whole time because he might be a little too late; a little too late when he's already subjected you to the heartbreak you didn't deserve

"i-i didn’t know what clicked in my mind but i was just so hurt that-"

that's the fiNAL straw for yoongi

this has been him trying to keep his anger at bay the whole time, but this one!! this one he can't just accept

"you are a fucking asshole. honestly."

jungkook slightly winces with the sudden cussing, but it barely scratches the surface

"you think you’re the only one hurt? tell that to me who’s never seen y/n cry so hard before — or even cry at all."

his explanation wasn't an excuse and he knows it, but nonetheless, it tears him apart

"i’m sorry."

his lips quiver and he's trying sO hard not to cry in front of his senior, but yoongi doesn't feel even the slightest remorse for the kid

"i don’t care. you don’t apologize to me; you apologize to y/n. whether she forgives you or not, which for the record i don’t think she should, you cannot take back what you said."

if what jungkook said was eVER said to yoongi, given that he had the same circumstances as you did, he wouldn't know how to bounce back at all

it's a pain he doesn't wish to feel and he could only helplessly look at you who's trying to navigate it

perhaps you don't even plan to navigate it — knowing you, you're just gonna sail through it all to the point you're not giving yourself enough time to even realize that you already are

it was the same cycle of trying to move on without grieving through it properly that it hurts yoongi and seokjin and the tiny amount of people around you

"grovel at her feet. cry her an ocean. commit penitence. whatever you wanna come up with, no matter what, you do not make my y/n feel like she isn’t deserving of love."

you're family and yoongi goes above and beyond for family.

"i don’t care if you make up. i don’t care if you don’t. all i know is that in any other place besides outside the room she sleeps in, i’d hurt you like you hurt her."

jungkook almost wishes that yoongi punches him now and he won't even try to dodge it

"i deserve it."

"you do."

they whole-heartedly agree and it's the only time that yoongi can get behind jungkook's words

"i’m always gonna be on y/n’s side, kid."

there's no other way around it and as much as you know it or not, you've cemented your position in yoongi's heart unknowingly

"the only way that i’m gonna be on yours is when you’ve earned my utmost respect," he can't even see when that happens, crossing his arms across his chest, "and you don’t."

jungkook's tears are falling to the floor but they don't get on his cheeks, the sudden set of footsteps coming from his side making his head straighten and wipe his eyes immediately

he's the only one alarmed and he spares yoongi a glance, then to said person

yeah right that couldn't have been you :((

the guy who's approaching doesn't stop walking and he looks like.... he's uh,,, coming to where he's exactly standing????

he seems oddly familiar though

“oh, taehyung!"

where did he hear that name before??

taehyung stands at the same height as jungkook, maybe a centimeter or two taller, but he just couldn't stop looking at him from the corner of his eyes

yoongi's oblivious to jungkook's ongoing deduction, immediately engulfing taehyung in conversation

"y/n’s already asleep. i could do her part of the project-“

he offers because he recalls that right, you told him that taehyung's coming over to finish your shared project of a business plan late tonight

uhhhhh you're kinda zooted and going through it rOUGH so yoongi doesn't mind doing your contribution for you

“yoongi!! oh no man, it’s not what i came here for," he leans for a side hug, eyes landing on jungkook to drop a polite smile to acknowledge him

jungkook only slightly bows, confused but even more intrigued because he heard your name in the conversation

"i just uh, i just saw y/n crying while i was on my way home awhile ago, and i didn’t get to ask why, but i felt bad, so i came by to drop some cookies.”

taehyung continues talking and it leaves yoongi and jungkook stunned, but he only focuses his attention on the former

“you looked like a hazelnut cookie kind of guy, so i baked some too!! is y/n allergic to peanuts? i put some too in a separate container in case she is.”

yoongi laughs and they go from there

IT'S LIKE JUNGKOOK ISN'T EVEN HERE!!!!

baby he's here he's nOT a hallucination!!!!

despite the fact that he's sticking out like and (unacknowledged) sore thumb, no one makes a move to take the conversation elsewhere

“thanks, tae. damn, you did all this yourself?”

yoongi whistles when he takes the tupperware opening it and almost watering at the sight

he doesn't mind baking cookies for you in case you wake up hungry, but taehyung really just did himself a nice favor without knowing it

he smiles softly, eyes narrowing in intrigue now that he realizes

"taehyung. no offense, but you’ve only interacted with y/n like once and it’s only for a project. why would you bake her uhhh 28 cookies?”

hehe

“35, actually :D”

tae interjects, waving him off when yoongi's jaw drops even further

“yeah, i know. i just felt so sorry for her — i’m not related to y/n but i just felt like i wanted to make her feel better.”

jungkook's jaw locks at this, his breathing becoming shaky all over again, fists balled this time

“it’s like,, economics!! i don’t actually know, maybe??? i’m in visual arts. y/n took over my part for me when i was sick-“

".... so you made her 30 cookies."

taehyung's the personification of a golden retriever and now that he thinks about it, jungkook reckons seeing him more than a handful of times

he laughs deeply at yoongi's rebutt and it may be in unfortunate timing that jungkook realizes he kNOWS him

he's in the same year!! he's the one that takes the portraits for the school paper and it's always his name in the credits

"good night, yoongs. hug y/n for me. tell her i'll take over her part, no questions asked."

taehyung walks away and he's perfectly content even if he didn't get to give you the cookies like jungkook thought he would

"night, taehyung."

yoongi looks at the retreating figure briefly, then looks at jungkook pointedly

he doesn't realize that he's still budging and listened on an entire conversation, dropping his head when yoongi points to the elevator

"bye, jungkook."

"good night, yoongi."

he feels hesitant to leave but it's probably for the better, putting his hands in his pockets still not enough to make his hands stop trembling

kook stops at the middle of his walking, turning his head to look back at yoongi whose mouth already has crumbs

"c-can i see y/n tomorrow?"

"i'm not her dad."

jungkook nods somberly, leaving it at that while his bulk of emotions consume him

he thinks all about the ways he could attempt to make it up to you, a million ideas in his head but his head doesn't hurt

his nose twitches at the lingering scent the cookies left, annoyed at the persistent smell and perhaps the boy that brought them

jungkook's never really liked cookies.

#WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN NEXT :O PLACE UR BETS BESTIES #stem koo #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook scenario

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 3 years

Text

punch me - jungkook

back again with another self indulgent fic! enjoy

summary: daycare worker jungkook invites you, his favorite coworker, to the lake with his friends. why the lake? he wants you to see his new sleeve and whipping his shirt off in the classroom isn’t quite acceptable. plus he just wants to spend more time with you. there’s no harm in that.

warnings: none i think!

word count: 3.5k

you work at a daycare, which isn’t a bad thing. it’s pretty chill, you like the kids and you can take off work pretty easy because there’s tons of subs. but also, not many people are bringing their kids in lately. so that means you and the other staff have been digging into the snack closet so “they won’t go to waste.”

jungkook was the one who suggested it. well, maybe suggest is the wrong word? he got caught up to his elbows in the bin of sweets, so when he turned to face your boss he immediately went into charming mode so he wouldn’t get in trouble. and once jungkook said it, everyone else thought it was a good idea too. hell, you’ve stopped buying snacks for yourself because you just sneak them from work now. wait. don’t tell anyone that.

anyway, it was a great idea, but that was two weeks ago. now the snack closet is empty and you have a room full of toddlers on the verge of anarchy because of it. because of jungkook.

you just watched him pass by your room, arms laden with cheez-its and rice krispie treats, and you know for a fact he doesn’t have a class today. he’s only here to touch up the mural he’s been asked to paint near the front desk, so all of those snacks must be for him.

you get the teacher from next door to keep an eye on your kiddos so you can sneak to the front and steal a couple bags of cheez-its (the kids don’t need their own bag, they’ll never know). but you get there and find yourself distracted from completing your mission.

jungkook is wearing old sweats, spattered with paint here and there, and he’s stooped over a bucket of water with a paintbrush between his teeth. it’s cute.

“jungkook,” you semi-shout to get his attention. you get a sort of “hmgpfh?” in response, and that’s enough for you. “do you seriously need this many snacks? just for yourself?”

“i’m a growing boy, y/n,” he replies, taking the paintbrush out of his mouth so he can dip it into a paper plate covered in red shades. “you can have one.”

“i need three, actually,” you reply, picking them up as you speak.

“are you a growing boy too?”

“no, i have six little kids with bad attitudes waiting for me in my room so i’ll be taking these off your hands,” you explain, finally turning to look at the work jungkook has put on the wall. “wow.”

“you like it?” jungkook asks, turning to look at you with a smile and a dancing light in his eyes. “is the tree too much?”

“no, oh my god, this is really good, jungkook,” you assure him, tracing your eyes over the wall full of characters and scenery from various children’s books.

“thank you,” he replies. “it’s better than wiping asses all day.”

“watch your mouth.”

“why don’t you watch it for me?” he quips back, peeking up at you with a smirk.

“what does that even mean, jungkook.”

“just thought i’d try to make you blush,” he says with a shrug. “didn’t work this time.”

“i don’t think it works anytime, actually,” you mumble, but he ignores it.

“hey, are you busy this weekend?” he questions, inspecting a bottle of green before squirting some directly on the wall.

“are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you ask with a laugh. you watch him frantically spread the paint around to resemble a bush.

“shut up. are you busy this weekend?” he asks again.

“i don’t think so, why?”

“come to the lake with me,” he says as he stands up to meet your eyes. “one of my friends convinced his uncle to let us borrow his boat. it’ll be fun.”

“do any of you know how to drive a boat?” you ask. “the safety of all this is what would keep me away.”

“i’m sure yoongi hyung will be able to do it,” jungkook says halfheartedly. “but still, the boat could just stay docked. it would be fun either way.”

“when are you going?”

“saturday, so i could come by yours and get you on my way?” he asks with a lot of hope in his voice. you shrug before responding.

“why not? sure.”

so, jungkook texts you late friday that he’ll pick you up at 7am saturday. what the fuck. you wouldn’t have said yes if you knew you had to leave that early, but jungkook explained that he’s the only one the uncle trusts to have the keys, so he has to get there before the world wakes up. but also, has this man met jungkook? jungkook, being trustworthy with small, easy to lose items? please.

nevertheless, you’re up bright and early on saturday with a very large thermos of coffee. jungkook texts you right at 7 that he’s outside, and when you walk out you see him at the back of his car trying to force something into the trunk.

“whatcha doin?” you ask as you approach, noticing his strong legs in his (surprisingly) short swim trunks. you’re now realizing you’ve never seen him in anything other than baggy pants, so his legs are a little...distracting.

“trying to keep the beer bottles from rattling,” he says through clenched teeth.

“and you’re trying to fuse them together with sheer force?”

“no, i’m stuffing a towel in between them in the box but it’s really tight.”

“if hoseok were here he’d make a ‘that’s what she said’ joke,” you jest.

“i thought about it,” jungkook replies. “so i guess that counts?”

as he talks, he rearranges the other things in the trunk so it can close easy, and as he lowers the door he turns to you.

“you look nice,” he says, eyes drifting over you quickly. he notices the coffee cup in your hand and smiles. “any chance that has the sickly sweet creamer in it that i like?”

“how would i know what coffee creamer you like?” you ask, slightly annoyed that he just assumes you pay that much attention to him but also annoyed that you got caught.

“because you like me,” he replies, grabbing the thermos and taking a sip. “oh my god, i love you.”

“you better be talking to the coffee,” you warn him as you grab the coffee back from him.

“i’ll say it to you someday,” he promises, walking around to the passenger side of the car before opening your door. “if you let me.”

“what’s gotten into you lately?” you ask with a smile. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a little crush on jungkook, and recently it’s gotten worse. after you started working together, you noticed how many shared friends you have, so you’ve been hanging out more and more the past few months. jungkook has always been more than nice to you, but these flirty little comments are a welcome change. you hope they keep coming.

“is it cool if we stop at the gas station real quick?” he asks as he gets into the driver’s seat. “it’s an hour drive and i need gas and snacks.”

“fine with me. how about cheez-its and rice krispies?”

“i had my fill of those at work this week, thanks,” jungkook laughs.

at the gas station, you offer to get the snacks while jungkook stays at the pump. you’re looking for your favorite gas station snack, a crappy fruit and cheese danish that you could eat every day. jungkook finds you bent over in the sweets aisle, ass poking out too much for him to pass by and not push your face right into the premade baked goods. he considers it, because funny, but mean. he also considers passing behind you and smacking your ass as he does so you’ll move. tempting, but maybe too far. he opts for just bending down next to you to see what’s so interesting.

“what are we looking for?” he asks, scanning the labels for something to try.

“cherry and cheese,” you tell him, moving a blueberry danish out of the way, hoping to find what you want, but no luck.

“what? that sounds gross,” jungkook replies as he stands. “you like that?”

“it’s one of my favorites,” you tell him as you move into a squat. jungkook slides behind you and looks for his favorite jelly candy as you keep searching. “what’s so gross about it? they go well together.”

“like us.”

“what?”

“huh?” jungkook asks, staring down at you with a glint in his eyes. the glare you give him is definitely ignored as jungkook looks back up and spots something on the top shelf. he grabs it and hands it to you. “this what you want?”

“yeah, it is,” you reply. “thanks. get another one for yourself.”

“why?” he asks, screwing his face up in disgust.

“because i know you’ll want to try some even with the way you’re acting right now, and i don’t like sharing.”

“whatever you say,” he grumbles with a roll of his eyes. “now help me find the sour worms.”

jungkook tried the danish, and he hated it.

have you ever seen a baby eating a lemon? it was like that, except jungkook spat what was in his mouth into his hand and then tossed it out the window of his car as he drove. sure, that whole part was gross, but he looked cute when he didn’t like the danish. who doesn’t love babies making silly faces?

“i can’t believe you like that, but i can’t believe you convinced me to try it,” jungkook complains.

“kook, i think if i told you electrocuting yourself was fun you would try it just because i said i liked it,” you reply. he thinks about it for a moment before nodding, a slight tint gracing his cheeks.

“you’re right, but that’s not gonna make me finish your gross choice of snack.”

“fine, more for me,” you say, grabbing the discarded treat in the cupholder. you take a bite, not really caring that jungkook’s mouth was on it before you.

“omg.”

“did you just say ‘omg’ out loud?”

“yes, why?”

“you’re a loser,” you laugh, taking another bite, causing jungkook to gasp again. “what?”

“it’s like we just kissed,” he replies, almost giggling through his toothy smile.

“what do you even mean by that.”

“we just swapped spit.”

“you’re disgusting. stop talking.”

“hey, you’re the one that wants to kiss me,” jungkook says with a shrug. you want to protest, but you don’t want to convince him that you’re totally against kissing him. you’d actually very much like to plant your lips on his and never let go, but life doesn’t always give you what you want. jungkook notices your silence and smiles. “you’re not denying it.”

“i’m being polite.”

“mmmhmm,” he replies, failing to hide how pleased he is as he pulls into a treacherously sloped driveway. “we’re here.”

it’s turning into a beautiful day. the morning chill is starting to slowly melt away, and you find yourself sweating slightly as you help jungkook move all of the junk from his car. he insisted on doing it himself, but you felt super weird just standing there while he huffed and puffed carrying things back and forth, so you finally jumped in. it’s still just the two of you here, the friend’s uncle had successfully given you both a crash course on how to handle the boat, and you’re confident the two of you can share that info with yoongi when he gets here and hopefully no one will get hurt.

speaking of yoongi, he said he was a few minutes away, and that was more than a few minutes ago. maybe he and hoseok got lost. the final four (as they’ve been calling themselves all morning) will be here later because taehyung didn’t have a swimsuit and they had to make a pit stop at walmart to get him one. you’re familiar with jungkook’s friends, and comfortable with a couple of them, but you don’t know much about taehyung aside from his interest in art and now his view on the boxer vs briefs debate (he was apparently very picky when trying on said swimsuits). but whatever. they’ll get here eventually.

before you know it, you and jungkook have unloaded all of the snacks, alcohol and water accessories from his car, so all that’s left to do is hang out until the boys get here.

“you ready?” jungkook asks, offering you his hand. you give him a questioning look and he motions to the boat. “c’mon, we’re not gonna sit here in the sun while we wait for them. it’s hot as balls.”

“but it’s hot as balls on the boat too,” you counter as you take his outstretched hand and let him pull you behind him on the dock.

“yeah, but at least we’re on a boat.”

he leads you to the edge of the shaky dock and let’s go of your hand momentarily to steady himself as he steps over to the boat. he turns back and offers his hand again, giving yours a squeeze as he guides you over the gap of water. the boat is slippery, so you lose your footing slightly and jungkook reacts quickly by wrapping you in his arms. the boat is bobbing a little too much for your liking, but jungkook is giggling and that distracts you enough from the fact that you could’ve fallen just now.

as you both stand there awkwardly staring at each other, you don’t notice yoongi’s car pulling up to the top of the hill and its two passengers walking out toward the water.

“oooh, what do we have here?” hoseok asks as he sees you holding onto each other for dear life. you separate quickly, making the newcomers laugh.

“don’t stop because we’re here,” yoongi replies.

“yeah, i can hug yoongi if it makes things less awkward for you,” hoseok offers.

“please don’t do that,” yoongi quips back.

“i’ll get you when you least expect it, hyung.”

jungkook, still standing very close to you, clears his throat and waves yoongi over. you scoot around them to help hoseok with the bag of food in his hands.

“are you sure you know how to drive a boat, yoongi?” you ask.

“i’m a fast learner,” he replies.

“that’s not very reassuring.”

“i’ve done it before, y/n,” he laughs. “just not with this kind of motor, but it won’t take long to figure out. everything will be nice and safe, i promise.”

“besides, we have jungkookie here to save you even if hyung throws us overboard,” hoseok jokes.

speaking of jungkook, he’s rustling around the boat, trying to figure out how to put the suncover up. his jacket from this morning has been tossed aside, and he’s in a baggy tank top. you allow yourself a moment to admire the way his muscles ripple as he works when you notice -

“you finished your sleeve?” you ask him. his head snaps up in your direction and he smiles.

“enjoying the show?” he teases.

“answer the question.”

“honestly, i wanted it to be a surprise,” he replies, stretching the arm out and turning it around as best he can.

“so what, you were gonna take your shirt off and punch me and that’s how i was supposed to find out?”

“are you offering?”

“i’m just mad you didn’t take me with you! i was gonna get something this time,” you complain with a slight pout, which jungkook scrunches his nose at. you’re really cute, he thinks to himself.

“my artist called me last minute and said they had an opening, so i went in as soon as i could. i think you were still handling six hungry toddlers,” he explains.

“so is that why you invited me today?” you laugh. “you couldn’t think of a reasonable way to take your shirt off in front of me so i had to come with you to the lake for the big reveal?”

“jungkook, if you say yes, then jin and i are giving you the sex talk. you gotta up your game,” yoongi mumbles.

“no,” jungkook insists, ignoring yoongi. “i invited you today because i think it’ll be fun and i wanted you to be here.”

“and he wanted to see you in a swimsuit,” hoseok adds, pulling some cookies out of the bag of snacks. he offers them to you and you gladly accept. then he turns and pops one into yoongi’s mouth as he yawns, before he tosses one over to jungkook, happily shouting “a cookie for kookie!”

“that’s cute,” you smile, liking the way hoseok babies jungkook. it’s got him flustered, and it’s kind of adorable.

“kook, did you hear that? y/n thinks you’re cute,” hoseok sing-songs.

“i- that’s not...i didn’t say that,” you stumble. “the rhyming was cute. if anything, i called hoseok cute.”

“everyone thinks hobi is cute,” yoongi replies. “but jungkook? eh.”

“eh?!” jungkook shouts. “i’m just eh to you hyung?”

“now you hurt the boy’s feelings,” you tell yoongi, and he shrugs.

“you should’ve just called him cute.”

you look over and notice jungkook is staring at you, an eyebrow quirked in a challenge. hoseok is watching and munching like this is a movie, and yoongi looks between you and the so-called cutie and laughs to himself.

“well?” jungkook asks.

“i mean, yeah, you are cute, sometimes,” you begin. “not when you’re being annoying though.”

“i’m not annoying!”

“yes you are,” hoseok and yoongi agree in unison. jungkook huffs at that and looks back at you.

“now my feelings are hurt again. talk more about me being cute,” he pleads as he finally gives up on the suncover and joins you on the wraparound couch of the boat. he’s looking at you with the absolute worst puppy dog eyes, so you keep going.

“uh, you’re cute with the kids i guess? like when they use you as their personal playground and you’re all giggling. that’s cute,” you offer. “or when the little girls get hurt, they always run to you first and you cheer them up with sweet songs.”

“hmm, family planning perhaps?” you hear hoseok joke with yoongi.

you would go on (or deny how often you’ve thought about jungkook being a dad) but the other car of boys has finally arrived, so the two instigators leave the boat to help them unload. that leaves you next to jungkook, who’s not done talking about the cute stuff.

“i didn’t know you noticed all of that,” jungkook whispers, suddenly sitting very close to you. you try to act like it’s nothing, but he stops you. “ah ah, now it’s my turn.”

“your turn? for what?”

“for talking about how cute you are,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing ever. if he had his way he would be pulling up a whole powerpoint presentation right now, but he has to rely on his words, which is fine. “first of all, you have great style. you’re maybe the only person who can make the daycare uniform look like a capital o outfit everyday you come in. and the way your eyes light up when a kid tells you a story, or shows you something they made? that’s my favorite. wish you would look at me like that someday.”

“you...what?” you almost can’t believe where this conversation has gone, but it’s making your heart beat faster and you’re not ready for it to stop.

“i wish i could make your eyes light up like i’m the only person you can see,” he clarifies, locking eyes with you. he holds your gaze for a moment before his eyes flick down to your lips. you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close, but the movement was obvious. jungkook wants to kiss you.

“and what would you do if they did?” you challenge, repeating the same glance from his eyes down to his lips. your gaze lingers a little longer, and when you look back up at jungkook you know what’s coming next. that doesn’t mean it’s not shocking, though.

kissing jungkook is like pulling down a piece of the sun and slamming it into your chest. the warmth that he exudes, and the softness of his lips as they caress yours, it’s perfect. but -

“wait,” jungkook mumbles against your lips. you pull back, worried.

“what?”

“i did that wrong.”

“wha..how? jungkook, i thought that was nice,” you assure him but he shakes his head.

“i did it wrong,” he insists, looking at you and noticing the shine in your eyes that he was hoping for. “can i kiss you again?”

you nod and let out a quiet “yes” before jungkook is cupping your face and connecting your lips again. this one is stronger, more intentional and you’re glad he wanted to try again. not that the first kiss was bad, your mind is still reeling from that first one. but this feels like a kiss full of love. it feels like a kiss from someone that’s been pining for you over bags of cheez-its and funny kid stories, but they didn’t know how to tell you how badly they wanted to do this. jungkook didn’t know how to tell you, but now he doesn’t have to because this kiss tells you everything you need to know.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook one shot

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