#yeah I went without a switch case for three months
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WE PIKWIN BOIS
#pikmin#pikmin 4#switch case#yeah I went without a switch case for three months#I just used a 3DS case cause it somehow fit#also merry christmas#text post
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Sadistic!Matt x WebCam



**This Fic Series will NOT be for people with triggers. This Fic Series will have very descriptive moments of Sadism.**
Sadistic (Sadism - The Act Of Being Sadistic)
Deriving (getting) pleasure from inflicting (causing) pain, suffering, or humiliation on others.
Please Read At Your Own Risk.
⚠︎Trigger Warning: unedited/ surprise, walking into someone's house, confusion, undressing, touching, juicy, Sadistic!Matt breaking in... AGAIN, rough fingering, tasting juices, falling in love cause EW. ⚠︎
You thought long and hard about what this would mean. What would happen if you followed through with it? But to be fair, you were never the best at making personal choices regarding love. You either went too far, or you were too guarded. Luckily for you and Matt, the hold he had on you was the most perfect push and pull. when you weren't sure, he pushed you, and you loved it. You wanted more, and he was the one keeping things hidden. Which in return only kept you interested. But this idea you had was, in fact, insane. The simple fact that you were willing to do this for anyone, let alone Matt, someone you have only known for a few months, should be enough to make you back out. But here you were, unboxing the brand-new webcam. You had bought a special monitor to route directly to it. You grabbed the mini monitor and drove over to his house. He wasn't expecting you, but you knew he wouldn't mind seeing you.
"Hello?" You slide the glass door open. It seems odd that someone as secretive as Matt would leave it open. You look around and see that the dishes have just been cleaned. "Matt?" He emerged from the hallway with a towel hanging low on his hips.
"Pet?" He ruffled his wet hair with his fingers before throwing it to the side.
"I... I'm sorry. It was unlocked." You stuttered.
"I forgot to lock it before getting in the shower." You noticed he said more than a few words without taking time to warm up to you.
"I wanted to talk." You shifted your weight on either foot.
"Talk." His voice was strained. He was unsure of what could be so important to talk about you came over unannounced. It unnerved Matt, but he didn't want you to see that. He wanted you to start talking and fast.
"I... Uh... So we have been together for like -"
"Three weeks. Two days. 21 hours. And 7 minutes." He deadpanned you. Matt wasn't nonchalant. It wasn't normal for him to care, but when he did, it wasn't easy for him. He found weird outlets to fixate on his true feelings. In this case, it seemed sweet. He knew the exact minute you were together, but to him, he was counting how long you were lasting. How long before you backpedaled and left?
"Yeah," you sighed, feeling your heart squeeze a little harder. "Here." You just held the tablet-sized monitor out. He accepted it with one hand while the other held the knot on his towel.
"This is?" He looked back up at you, confused.
"A surprise." You smirked. "I'll be back later." You winked and slipped out the back door. Matt looked back down at the black screen. He saw there was a timer counting the seconds that matched the current time. He carried it with him to the bedroom. He dropped his towel and switched it out for a pair of skin-tight boxers. He occasionally peeked over at the screen. He was confused about why you would give him anything, let alone a black screen. Over his time with you, you have done nothing but surprise him, so he knew you had some trickery in mind with this tablet.
You were at home now. Tidying up your room. You could have done it before, but you wanted to confuse him. You couldn't explain how, but you knew he was sitting staring at the screen, trying to figure it out. You wanted to get inside his head a little bit for fun. You were also using cleaning to prolong your idea for yourself. You still weren't sure if this would work out in your favor. You knew Matt would absolutely love the idea, but you liked being private sometimes. Matt made you different.
Matt was the first person since Jaxon that you even thought of the way you had been. Jaxon was an ex, but it was not a great story. You had to learn the difference between what you wanted and what was abuse the hard way. You thought when Jaxon put his hands on you, it was him giving you the type of affection and love you wanted and liked, but then you realized one day that his eyes were void. There was no excitement, enjoyment, or love behind it. You have made it a point to be extra careful with your line of work and when perusing someone outside of just a casual fuck. Matt looked at you like he needed you.
Your room was clean. You walked over to your computer and adjusted the webcam settings so the volume was on. "Matt?"
Matt heard your voice, and his head quickly shot up. He looked at the screen, which was still black.
You removed the pink towel that had been covering the camera the whole time.
Matt studied the scene. He could see you sitting in front of your bed, and his eyes focused hard on the pixels.
"Surprise." You lightly giggled. I can't see or hear you, but you can listen to and see me."
Matt's first thought was, "When? "
"I figured I could just leave this on all the time, and this way, you never have to wonder what I'm up to or doing." You blushed a little. Hearing the idea out loud made it sound stupid.
Matt thought it was anything but stupid. His heart was racing with excitement. The idea of watching you sleep, watching you work, and watching you undress. His cock twitched at the mere idea of seeing you drop a towel and get dressed after a long shower. He was really starting to hate how much he loved you. You bit your lip, and he started feeling the heat getting to him. He took the tablet over to the bed and sat on it. He watched as you got off the computer chair and stood in the middle of your over-done room. You slowly started to unbutton your cream-colored cardigan. Matt sat a little straighter, realizing what was happening. You were giving him a private show.
"Do you like your present?" you asked sultry. Matt nodded even though you had already told him you couldn't see him. Remembering this was a direct link to seeing you whenever he wanted; he felt his waist press against his already snug boxers.
"Fuck." He whispered. You finished undoing the buttons and threw the fabric to the side. You had done webcam shows before off the dark web, but this felt different. You were nervous you wouldn't be sexy enough for him. You also knew he was a sadist, but you were unsure how to incorporate pain into a webcam show. You just wanted to give him a gift with a little demonstration. You slipped your tank top off. The cuts on your chest were healed with minimal scarring left over. Only a few spots left, tiny pick nicks of raised skin.
Matt couldn't take watching you undress so slowly. He held the monitor with one hand, and the other slipped his boxers down so he was fully exposed. His skin was warm as he fondled his penis while watching you. You stood steps backward until you plopped on the bed. You smiled directly at the pink camera pointed at you. It was a wide-angle view, so it got the majority of your room in the picture being shot. The only spot missing was the mini entryway near the door. You slipped your skirt down and showed off your bright red skin lace.
Matt's eyes blinked to make sure he saw that right. Red? He bit his lip and started shifting his position to his side. You still had on your thigh-high white tights with bows on the back of the knees. You had tried on a dozen combinations of your accessories to see what would perfectly match your new red underwear. Unfortunately, red wasn't in your color scheme, so nothing looked great, but you felt Matt wouldn't care.
"Do you want more?" You asked him.
"Yes." Matt found himself answering out loud. He never really found himself longing for someone the way he did you. He liked this arrangement because it meant he could openly submit to his feelings for you without you knowing. You scooted back onto the middle of your bed and spread your legs. You could feel his stare through the electronics. You knew the minute you spoke, his eyes were fixated on every inch of you. It was peaking your nerves. This was the part you had done a few times before but never for someone like Matt.
You wanted to tease him a little longer, so instead of taking anything off, you touched yourself with the Valentine red fabric obscuring the view.
"Ugh." You faked your moan. One thing you hated about yourself was that you couldn't get yourself off. You had to fake moans and pleasure. You touching yourself never brought you the stimulation you needed. You teased your clit, just imagining Matt being the one fondling your nerves. "Matt." You whimpered, really begging for him. You wanted him.
Matt was in heaven. He found it easier to watch you from his side. He was stroking himself hard and waiting for you to remove the lace in the way of the view he truly wanted. He was desperate. The way you called out his name, he knew you were desperate, too. As if you read his mind, You slipped them off to hang on one ankle. Your fingers were only rubbing the outside. The camera quality was crystal clear. He could see you getting wet from only poking the edges of your body.
"Matt, please." You wouldn't go inside yourself. Matt craved being inside of you. You had to admit that putting on your show for him was more fun than any others you had done. You felt some genuine arousal from teasing him. The erotic feeling of knowing he wanted you to do more and you weren't going to get you more into this webcam show than you were expecting. "Ugh, yes." You faked a loud moan.
"Just planned on teasing me the whole time?" You jumped and looked to see Matt next to the bed. He dropped the monitor from his hands and jumped on you in the bed.
"How did you -"
"Shh." He took his fingers and slipped two of them inside to feel you were just as soaked as you looked. "Yes, fuck." He dropped his head down.
"Oh. Oh." You arched your back, feeling him glide across your walls. He swirled his fingers around, touching your pink plushy insides. Your knees started shaking. He lightly pinched your clit. "Ope." You yelped out.
"Pet?" He kissed your stomach before flicking his eyes up to look at you.
"Mhhmm." You hummed. Your arousal tripled just from seeing him in your room.
"Don't tease me." His voice was cold, and you shivered, knowing what that flip meant. He moved his fingers in and out faster, making sure to curl them up to touch the top of your insides.
"Fuck!" You called out, knowing this is what it was supposed to feel like.
"I want to taste you." He whispered, still pumping his fingers. He was pumping so fast and hard it felt like his dick was inside of you. You moaned and hummed as you responded, unable to form sentences in your head.
"Cumming." Was all you could manage to pant out. Matt dipped his head in between your thighs and held you spread open. He took his lips and captured your clit in between them. He applied pressure, and you felt the instant release. "Oh, my god!" You cried out. Matt dropped his tongue down and felt your cum dripping out onto his taste buds.
"Mmm." He hummed in heaven. He had been wanting to taste you for a while. As soon as he had enough of you in his mouth, he sat up and let your legs close on him. Your thighs hurt from the pressure he held them with, suddenly disappearing. He swallowed, looking right at you, and leaned down over you.
"Do you like your present?" You found the nerve to ask.
"All the time?" Matt wanted to know the catch.
"All the time." You assured him. Even though you saw his contentment grow underneath his hard exterior, you still wondered if this was a good idea.
#sadistic!matt ⚠︎#sadistic!matt poll ⚠︎#masochistic!reader ⚠︎#sadistic!matt x masochistic!reader ⚠︎#the dark sturniolo queen ⚠︎#the dark sturniolo tumblr ⚠︎
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I think one of the big issues with comics is that they have become far too serialized, with each run wanting to tell an ongoing story. I get the impulse, and some of those runs have been excellent for it, but I feel that's not how superhero comics are supposed to work.
Unlike manga, comic books seem more geared to merely showing the various adventures of these heroes, with a lot more done-in-one stories. They're less like Harry Potter, which was one big story in multiple installments, and more like Doyle's Sherlock Holmes books, where each story was self contained.
Yeah, they did evolve and change their characters throughout the sixties onward and many were great for it, but I'm starting to think they leaned too far in making things ongoing. Especially because they're reaching the point where they won't let the characters evolve anymore, yet won't just go back to self-contained adventures. They need to pick a lane.
Comics were always serialized. To the point where they used to just be called serials. And it worked fine for 50 years.
The main thing I think that ruined comics before the wokeness was the overuse of massive events. Comics used to mostly follow a very easy formula. Short arcs that last 1-3 issues, sprinkled with larger arcs that last for a few more issues. Then, massive event comics like Crisis and Secret War made bank, and Marvel and DC wanted to that money coming in. So they did sequels to their successful events. When those stopped selling, they created new events. The problem with the events is that they took over the normal weekly/monthly stories. Nothing mattered but the events, and if you had a status quo you liked, chances were the event was going to mess with that for shock value. Eventually, there ended up being at least one major event that covered the whole comic universe per year, usually with smaller events that covered a single book too. It got to the point where the events and the individual issues stopped selling, so they did more events with even more radical shock changes of beloved characters and stories. And when that didn't work, they decided to reboot their continuity to fix what they spent 10+ years breaking. (then in the case of DC, rebooted it three more times when everyone hated the other reboots). In the middle of this, they also went woke, and now we're where we're at with mainstream American comics. Most of them suck, and the ones that don't are only good until the writers or editors switch books, then the new person (usually Bendis or King) usually ruins them to put "their mark" on an iconic character.
I honestly don't know how you fix comics. Even removing the woke, left wing crap at this point isn't enough (though it's a good start) because there are underlying problems with how the medium is run and presented. Books are constantly late, with last minute revisions and sometimes multiple artists working on a single book before it hit shelves. The compensation for writers and artists is shit unless you're a top name with multiple books, and even then sales are often so bad they go months without getting what they're owed, so the talent pool is shrinking for all but the most iconic characters. Everyone wants to write Batman, but no one wants to write Booster Gold. And every time they have a "hit" (with sales numbers that would have been abject failures 20 years ago) everyone tries to copy the book that got big and further messes things up in other books.
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Oh oh! Can we get some hedcanons about cherry adopting a girl who is around miya's age. Like how close would they be and how would others feel about her being his daughter now. Bonus points if uncel Joe and little missy mess with daddy blossom
Xoxo love your work so far, keep it up💙
➯ A/N: This was such an amazing request, I had so much fun writing it! Hope you enjoy :)
Also, i started watching Your Lie in April today, and its AMAZING! So much more than what I was expecting
➯ With a daughter
➯ Characters: Kaoru Sakurayashiki with a young daughter. Reki, Langa and co. are mentioned throughout!
➯ Warnings: none:)

Having a child had never crossed Kaoru’s mind before, but when Joe had teased him about how “you treat Carla better than you would a child!”, the idea kind of stuck with him. And so, he’d spent countless nights awake, wondering to himself if it was something he truly wanted?
He’d pass parks, seeing parents with spewing babies and toddlers throwing tantrums, wondering if he could actually put up with that? But as he passed the shops, he came across a mother and her daughter, who looked around 12. He watched them pass, a grin on the child’s face as she looked into her shopping bag, examining her haul for that day. And so it was settled
He wanted a baby girl he could spoil absolutely rotten
And the search for a child carried on, and this time instead of baby shops and websites, he was browsing the shelves of Claires and other tween clothing stores. It had only occurred to him over a bottle of wine with Joe, as they were discussing if Kaoru was truly ready for something like this. Instead of a crying baby or a messy toddler, he could simply adopt someone a bit older!
It made sense too. For a single parent, an older child seemed much more doable. Of course, he wouldn’t be alone. Joe was always telling him how he’d help out, yknow, if he actually went through with the damn thing.
Not to mention, the older you get, the more difficult it is to get adopted. Babies and young children will get adopted left right and centre, whereas the child he will take home will have been there for a while. Finally, they will have a place to call a home
He spent months trying to get the approval for adoption, and one fateful day he finally got the letter that yes he could go ahead and take one home. He was ecstatic, spending the next few days finding out the location of every orphanage around his area of Japan. He messaged every single one, asking when their next visiting day was
And so it was set: Kaoru would not rest until he had found his perfect little girl
He went through orphanage after orphanage, searching for someone he could call his own. However, none of the children were lighting that paternal flame inside him. It wasn’t their fault of course, they just didn’t click with him, staring at him any time he tried to talk to them. Visit after visit, he’d go to Joe’s, ready to tell him about his recent fail.
It wasn’t until Joe came up to him with a phone number, asking if he’d been to this particular orphanage yet. Apparently they had a few children aged 12 and up, and were available for visit that Saturday. And so there he was, packing a bag and getting ready to travel to the house. This time felt different, somehow. He could feel his palms sweat, as if he could sense he would take one of them home
When he finally made it to the house, he was a nervous wreck. The lady of the house let him in with a smile, telling him the children were in the backyard playing while she bounced a baby on her hip. Cherry winced as the baby gurgled at him, glad he opted for an older child
She led him outside, gesturing at the children who were sprinting around in the vast field, hiding behind trees and bushes. It was clear they were playing a game of hide and seek. He smiled as he scanned over them, but it quickly disappeared when he noticed one little girl sitting on the step, head in her lap while her shoulders gently shook with tears
He walked over to her, bending down with a soft smile. He didn’t know where this sudden calmness came from, but that was his last priority right now. A little gash sat on the girls knee, caked with blood as it trickled down her shin. He frowned, pulling out a tissue to gently wipe it. She jumped, wincing with shock from the fresh wave of pain, and surprise. Kaoru gently wiped at her knee once more before looking up at her to attempt a conversation
“Hello, is your knee alright?” She shook her head frantically, wiping a tear away from her face. A small breathy laugh escaped him as he watched the child stand, gesturing to her leg
“Nope, not at all. I think its broken, if you ask me. All cause of that stupid thing!” She threw her arm out, gesturing to a pink board Kaoru hadn’t noticed before. A skateboard.
That’s when Kaoru realised it: I want this one
Suddenly he felt a new sense of importance, like he had to make a good impression. He walked over to the board, tutting as he looked down at it. “This is what hurt you?” He looked at it with disdain as the little girl nodded her head violently. Kaoru could see how she hurt herself, the thing was massive, especially for someone her age. It looked around the size of a board he would use.
Grinning, he picked up the board. “Well, want to see something cool?” She watched in wonder as kaoru stood on it, pushing off and turning quickly, popping an ollie over a stray toy. The little girl jumped, throwing her arms up as she cheered Kaoru on. He finished with a flourish, coming back to stand beside her. “What did you think?” She was speechless, simply moving her hands, saying scattered “wows” and making various sound effects. Kaoru smiled, certain that he could teach her more.
When he realized visiting time was coming to a close, he proposed the idea to the girl, who’s name he had come to know was Lily: he’d come back next week, and he’d bring his board. He even promised to find her a smaller boar perfect for her to learn on, saying he knew a friend who could make her one. From there he would teach her the basics of skateboarding, even a couple of tricks once she got that down. She was delighted, bouncing up and down and declaring she couldn’t wait, all the energy of someone much younger than her. Kaoru found he couldn’t stop smiling himself either
He made his way back through the house, Lily skipping alongside him. He explained the plan to the Lady, that he would come back next week for another visit. Just as he was about to leave, he turned to the lady to request one final thing from her
“Make sure no one snatches her up from me while I’m gone, yeah?”
Needless to say a bottle of wine was opened at Joe’s that night in celebration of Lily, the potential daughter
And so the weeks turned into months, and Kaoru returned each week with his board and some sweets for her and the other children, teaching her everything she needed to know about skateboarding. After a month or so she could confidently ollie without bailing, and next time he visited she displayed it with delight, watching Kaoru’s face light up with pride.
She had taken a real liking to Kaoru, according to the Lady. She refused to pay any other visitors any notice, declaring they “simply weren’t Kaoru.” This is what finally made him realise that maybe it was time to ask if she’d like to live with him from now on, where she could practice with him every day.
When he asked her, Kaoru could’ve sworn he actually saw stars in her eyes. She simply lit up, throwing herself at Kaoru, tears streaming down her face as she shouted yes, of course she would. she wasn’t the only one crying, Kaoru could barely see from the tears in his own eyes, the lady dabbing at hers with a tissue
Once the paperwork was complete and Lily was his, he felt a weight had been taken off his shoulders. He had packed her a new change of clothes the day he went to collect her, bringing Joe along with him for emotional support. Lily came flying at him the second he got out of his car, wrinkling her nose at Joe
“You never told me you had a boyfriend, Kaoru” she stuck her tongue out at him from over his shoulder while they both tried to convince her that no, they weren’t a couple, before she ran upstairs to get changed. Joe turned to Kaoru, an almost offended look on his face
“Why were you so adamant that we weren’t together??” “I dont need her worrying she’s going home to a Gorrila” “HEY”
Once they all got home, they threw a little party at Joe’s who had closed a little early specially for it. Kaoru didn’t let her out of his sight, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable with all the new people. Of course, it was only Joe, Shadow, Reki, Langa and Miya, all of whom she would meet eventually, but he still worried in case she got overwhelmed.
She made quick friends with Reki, who was ecstatic from the moment he realised she could skate. The two bonded over it, talking about tricks they’d learned, Reki shouting over at Kaoru because why hadn’t he taught him anything??
Miya was a bit standoffish at first, but when she saw the switch in his hand, the two were instantly bonding over who had better villagers in Animal Crossing, and who had passed more levels in Mario with three stars
As the months went on, Lily really settled into her new life in Okinawa, starting at school in Miyas class. The two were joined at the hip, Miya often coming home to Kaoru’s so they could practice together, or simply study and watch some movies. Reki constantly teased the shit out of the two, talking about how he heard “wedding bells”. This comment earned him a swift whack into the skull from Kaoru, warning him not to tease his little girl
Soon enough Kaoru was making her own skateboard with built-in Carla, who helped her skating improve insanely. As Kaoru said, she was definitely a chip off the old block. Langa and Reki would take her to the skate park with them, helping her land new tricks and would take videos of her to send to Kaoru
Shadow was like a chill uncle to her, bringing her flowers for her room and taking her out to get some clothes and ice cream. Joe was like an uncle too, but a much more untrustworthy one. Would he take her to the park, or would he take her to parts of downtown she definitely shouldn’t have been? Who knows, certainly not Kaoru...
Poor Kaoru can never get a minutes peace. Every second of the day she’s plotting something, waiting for him to let his guard down so she can pounce, scaring the shit out of him. When the others are around its 10x worse, all of them ganging up on him to pull pranks
As well as skateboarding, Kaoru tried to teach her how to do calligraphy. She ended up being awful, blotting the ink and smearing it with her hand. But hey, it was a fun art project that made it onto the fridge
At S, she was watched like a hawk. When Kaoru was competing,the others would be like her bodyguard, making sure no one got within 5 feet of her. She’d watch her dad with wonder, the look of awe never leaving her face since the first day she saw him skate. She can’t wait for the day she can compete, maybe even beating her own dad
The first time Lily called Kaoru “dad” was when he won a race, showing off some amazing skills and winning the insanely close match by a hair. He picked up his board, looking around for Lily. He saw her in the crowd, throwing her arms up and cheering “THATS MY DAD!! LOOK, RIGHT THERE, THATS MY DAD!” When she spotted him, a large grin spread across her face. “Nice job out there dad! You did amazing!! D’you think I can do that one day?”
Everyone was staring at her, she hadn’t even realised she had said anything out of the ordinary. Soon enough Kaoru was lunging at her, picking her up in a hug so she didn’t see the tears quickly forming on his face. With a smile he pulled away, his voice dripping with pride
“Of course you could. You’re my daughter, aren’t you?”
#sk∞#sk8 langa#sk8 reki#langa hasegawa#reki kyan#sk8 the infinity#kaoru sakurayashiki headcanons#sk8 kaoru#Kaoru Sakurayashiki#sk8 cherry blossom#cherry blossom#cherry blossom headcanons#kojiro nanjo#sk8 joe#miya chinen#sk8 Miya#sk8 fic#sk8 headcanons#sk8 the infinity headcanons#sk8 the infinity x reader
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three times shinsou misses the opportunity to kiss you + the one time he seized the moment.
── pairing, shinsou x fem!prohero!reader ── request: x times shinsou wants to kiss fem reader??? pLZ I NEED IT ── author’s note: this was super dope & cute to write. tysm for sending this in. i hope i did this justice and it wasn’t to out of character. also reader has a water quirk & the two of you are in your early twenties. ♡
i.
"'toshi,” you whispered, chest against his as the two of you currently hid from the group of villains. your two agencies had partnered up in attempt to take down a new gang of villains who were transporting drugs from the city to the waters, the two of you were partnered because of how the two of you excelled in your respective agencies, shinsou was sent to aid in your patrols of the waters ── which is why the two of you are currently hiding in a storage closet on a ship.
“shut up.” you don’t take it to heart, you’re sure he means it as nicely as possible - he just lacks a few pages in the ‘vocabulary’ department.
“we need to do something.” you tell him, trying your best to meet his gaze in the tight space (which was nearly impossible because he’s towering over you at the moment). he doesn’t reply, not at first at least, if you looked hard enough you would probably see the gears in his head turning.
“──stop talking, it’s distracting me.”
your mouth quickly shuts, fidgety hands are now at your side, you were starting to get antsy and there was practically little to no room to move around without being heard - or seen for that matter.
“they switch the guards every ten minutes, in the middle of the switch, we run.” the purple haired male explained, taking a peak at the time on his cellphone. the two of you had to endure this for three more minutes. just three more minutes and you would be free.
“three minutes,” you repeated, more to confirm this for yourself. you’re sure you wouldn’t last that long, after all, this was shinsou, the male you’ve had a crush on for quite some time now. how were you expected to last that long?
“──think of it like seven minutes of heaven.”
“we haven’t played that since── “
“yeah, yeah i know, but just think of it like that. don’t think about the closet, just the game.”
you nodded quickly, meeting his gaze as the two of you stood there in silence. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about kissing him. it seemed like the perfect moment - it was just the two of you. if it were the last day on earth, you at least wanted to go out with a bang. you know?
“let me get comfortable, you can do the same after.” you watched as he places either hands besides your head, slouching a bit against the wall so his back could have some sort of support. he nods to you, signaling for you to do the same.
it takes you a moment, the position shinsou is currently in causes your heart to skip just a few beats. were you disappointed in yourself for letting your mind drift.. elsewhere during a mission? for sure. did you care right now? absolutely not.
you cleared your throat, widening your stance and trying to balance the weight in between your legs to help ease some of the weight ── but there wasn’t really much you could do.
“two minutes.”
this had to be the longest three minutes of your life.
“i think i just tasted my own sweat.” he complained. it feels like he’s sweating in places he shouldn’t produce sweat in.
“i feel like a fish out of water,” you added.
“──gonna start passing out if i don’t throw you in the water soon?”
“says the one whose sweating to death.”
“and you’re dehydrated. guess we’re both shit out of luck aren’t we?”
“yeah, but, i think this isn’t the worst way to die.”
he takes another peak at his cellphone, noting that there’s a minute left before the two of you could finally get out of this damn storage closet. “you’ve got a minute to tell me anything worse than dying like this.”
in hindsight ── there’s a lot that could happen in a minute, that’s the only reason you said something to begin with. “alone, i could die in this closet, alone and then you know, it would be lonely.”
“are you serious?”
“oh come on! that’s pretty serious!”
“it ── it really isn’t,” he’s trying to laugh as quietly as possible and you playfully slapped him in his shoulder.
“okay, well, i wouldn’t want to die alone.”
“mhm, scaredy cat.” his smile is infectious and for a moment, he forgets that the two of you are stuck in a storage closet. maybe now would be the perfect time to kiss you, when it’s just the two of you, waiting to make your grand escape, when the two of your are just centimeters apart.
“now’s our chance,” he whispered, straightening himself to get out first just in case. he doesn’t want to act off of impulses. if he kisses you, he wants to make sure it’s because you want him too.
ii.
“good to see you when you’re not acting like a goldfish who just hopped out of it’s bowl.” the familiar voice teased from behind you, hands folded behind his head. if it were anyone else, you might have tripped them.
“──don’t you have to go buy hair dye now or something?”
“no that was after i made sure a fisherman didn’t take you on the way home.”
“is this what do you do on your spare time? think of jokes that revolve around my quirk?”
he rolls his shoulder lazily, leaning against the apartment railing across from your front door. “they come naturally, no extra thinking required.”
“and here i thought all the hair dye went to your brain.”
this wasn’t out of the norm for the two of you, he would make the first jab and then you would follow suit. sometimes, the bickering could go on for hours ── regardless of task at hand (like the time the two of you were trying to detain a villain and shinsou had told the woman you were a water sprite), it’s an old nickname of yours, he had given it to you back at the sports festival when you were kids. you had earned it when you had almost drown mineta because he wouldn’t stop making inappropriate jokes and you had brought the entire water fountain down on him.
as the two of you stood there in silence, you, had your back against your door, hands folded behind you while he stood parallel, arms against his chest he wonders: is this the time he kisses you goodnight?
“d’ya want to come inside? i have leftovers? we could pull an all nighter like we used to do back in the dorms?” there’s a hint of hopefulness in your eyes and he would feel like absolute shit if he declined the offer.
“only because you have food.”
he doesn’t kiss you goodnight then. and he doesn’t kiss you goodnight when you fall asleep on his shoulder after the second horror movie either. if you were anyone else, he would’ve left without a care in the world, but it’s you and you are different.
so he stays and tells himself that tomorrow will be a new day and tomorrow, he can try again.
iii.
“i don’t dance,” shinsou tells you as you so desperately tried to bring him onto the dance floor. it’s a hero’s gala, everyone from your respective classes at U.A. were here, pro heroes from all around the world and some of your old instructors as well ── these aren’t his thing, you know that. you remember his attitude during the first two hours of the third year’s ‘goodbye party’ - not much had changed. he’s taller, a bit more handsomer and smiles more often.
“you do tonight, come on.” while you had dragged him by one hand, the other desperately tried to loosen his tie because it feels like he’s suffocating.
“──you’ll be the death of me woman.” he’s mumbling under his breath, one hand resting in yours as the other found its place at your waist.
“because i asked you to dance? might i say this is on your list of horrible ways to die?” you teased, offering him that infectious smile that makes him go weak in his knees. he hates to admit the pull you have on him ── he might even go as far as saying you might have him wrapped around that finger of yours and you don’t even know it yet.
“if it’s by your hands i would say it’s a merciful death.”
“a merciful death? i’ll keep that in mind.”
“don’t test your luck,” you know he’s only messing with you ──
you’re to busy enjoying the moment to think of some witty comeback. it’s something about the way your hand seems to fit perfectly in his. or how the two of you are able to move in sync without any words spoken in between the two of you that’s driving you insane.
if you would’ve told your past self that you would be slow dancing with the hitoshi shinsou at a hero’s gala while the world around you disappeared you would’ve laughed at the idea. it would’ve seem silly to you ── stupid even. shinsou and you weren’t rivals like you and bakugou were, but, you had always found yourself trying to one up him.
yet here you were, swaying to the slow tune as you managed to snake your arms around his midsection and rest a head against his chest. maybe this was his chance: with the little distance in between the two of you, dim lighting and dressed to the nines. surely, this would be a good memory to relive later down the road wouldn’t it?
but he wanted to savor the moment. so he decides it against it ── despite the ache in his chest.
iv.
"we did it.” shinsou muses, an awkward hand offered in your direction for you to shake. it’s been six months but your agencies had finally shut down the smuggling operation and you could finally take the break you had so desperately needed. you weren’t sure what to do with the outstretched hand, but, you give in anyways, resting your hand in his as he gave it a firm shake.
“pleasure doing business with you.” you tell him, lips curving into a bittersweet smile. teasing, bickering and ‘playful’ sparring aside, you were going to miss him. you were used to patrolling and doing missions on your own but this was different.
“try not to end up on the other side of fishing hook, yeah?” it’s his way of telling you to be careful in shinsou’s teasing nature.
“make sure i’m the one to grant you the merciful death.” please be careful, is what you want to say. though you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud - if you did, it would only confirm that you care about the purple haired pro hero more than you should.
he shakes his head with a laugh, “you’re the only one who gets the satisfaction.”
“it better stay that way ‘toshi.”
he doesn’t know for certain if your agencies would cross paths again. your agency was closer to the waters and he was closer in the city, the chance that you would run into one another again would be slim to none.
he clears his throat for a moment, retreating his hand from yours and placing them at your waist instead. he’s pictured this a thousand times but now that he’s in the moment he couldn’t manage to find the right words. it’s frustrating, really.
“──hi.” you’re holding your breath in anticipation, was this another one of his games? was he going to kiss you? tell you a secret? use his capture weapon and tell you that he’s not letting you go until you admit something embarrassing?
he doesn’t care anymore. doesn’t care if it makes him look like a love sick idiot when he kisses you like it’s the last thing he’s about to do before he dies, he doesn’t care if anyone’s watching or for the wrinkles you’ll cause since you’ve got a fistful of his shirt in a desperate attempt to close whatever little distance the two of you had between you.
you pull away first causing him to pout (which was actually cute but you’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing that) but you do laugh.
“you know,” he muses, a hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly, a habit you hadn’t seen in years. “──i didn’t want to let you walk away without something to remember, my little water sprite.”
you rolled your eyes at the choice of nickname but were flattered nonetheless, your own arms finding their way around his neck, “who said i was walking away?”
#shinsou fluff#shinsou x reader#shinsou x you#shinsou x y/n#bnha imagine#bnha drabble#mha drabble#mha imagine#shinsou tbt.#( this is so lame bc i wrote this at 1:43 am while at work JHADKJHDA )#╰ ♡ ✧ ˖ 𝐉𝐀𝐘𝐄 ┊ WRITINGS .
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Sparkling Laughter
the giggle glow au is the only thing keeping me sane right now
Word Count: 2.6k
Read on Ao3
MK hadn't really noticed it at first.
Between always being in a brightly lit area and mainly focusing on training, it wasn't exactly like he saw Wukong laugh often.
So maybe it took him a while to notice.
But after he noticed, it was kinda hard to miss.
Wukong straight up glowed when he laughed.
And MK didn't mean that figuratively. No, he meant it very literally.
A single chuckle was enough to get Wukong glowing like a nightlight. Full out laughter could very nearly light up a whole room.
"You know, the stories never mentioned that you glow." MK said, one day, a few monkeys climbing all over him. The monkeys messing his hair up was what had prompted Wukong to start laughing in the first place, and MK figured there was no better time than the present to bring it up.
"It was never really something that others deemed important, I guess." Wukong said, shrugging, still faintly glowing with a few remaining chuckles as he helped remove some of the monkeys from MK. "It's definitely not showstopping or cool, so it was just left out."
"I think it's neat." MK said, "You're kinda like... a light up toy or something."
"Hm, not sure how I feel about that comparison." Wukong said, pulling the last monkey off of MK's shoulders, and ruffling MK's hair, fixing the mess the monkeys had left it in. "There you go, bud, all good as new."
"Thanks, Monkey King." MK said, scooping up his bag from where he'd laid it on the ground, summoning the staff and getting ready to vault back to the city. "Y'know, we are just doing game night tonight. You're welcome to join if you want to-"
"It's fine, I've got something to do tonight." Wukong said, giving MK a smile that didn't feel...fully real. "You go have fun with your friends."
MK slowly nodded, not fully believing Wukong, but figuring that arguing would probably get him nowhere. So he turned, jumping off of Flower Fruit Mountain, and leaving Wukong all by himself.
-
Two months later, on the ship, Mei found a game of Twister in one of the closets.
It hadn't taken much to convince everyone else to join in, that is, other than Macaque, who insisted on not taking part. Not even 4 minutes into the game, Red Son forcibly kicked Wukong out, on the grounds that his tail gave him an unfair advantage. This left only Tang, Pigsy, Sandy, MK, Mei, and Red Son on the Twister mat.
Macaque lazily spun the spinner with his tail.
"Left hand blue." He said, voice a complete deadpan. Mei moved to reach over across MK-
And Tang fell down, bringing Pigsy down with him, who accidentally bumped into Red Son, who, knocked off balance, fell into Mei, who fell down on top of MK.
In the end, only Sandy was left still in 'standing', the others in a pile on top of the twister mat.
".....Sandy wins?" Macaque said, a questioning lilt in his voice, prompting MK to look over at him-
Which caused him to notice the expression on Wukong's face.
It suddenly struck MK that within the one week everyone had been on the ship, Wukong had yet to laugh, which in hindsight was rather concerning, but right now that meant that the other's didn't know-
"Uh guys? You might want to shield your eyes." MK said, barely managing to say it before-
Wukong burst out laughing, doubling over, and lighting up like a flashlight, accompanied by a few sparkles shining in the air. Macaque startled at the sudden noise, and ended up falling off the couch, which just made Wukong laugh harder, glowing brighter as a result. The others yelped at the sudden brightness, MK's warning not having registered in time.
Wukong, registering the fact that he was currently blinding the others, calmed down a little, the glow lessening as he went from full out laughter to soft chuckles.
"S- sorry I just-" He started, clearly trying to keep himself from falling back into hysterics again. "You looked so funny I just- I couldn't help it-"
Mei was the first to manage to blink the residual spots out of her vision and register what had just occurred.
"You glow?!" She asked, incredulous, the others also sporting similar expressions of surprise.
Things proceeded to go downhill from there, questions getting thrown out without any answers. At some point, in the chaos, Wukong straight up left the room without anyone noticing he was gone until Macaque pointed it out.
Of course, after a day or so, the hype of the new information had died down a little.
But not completely.
-
It was early morning, and almost everyone was in the kitchen. Mei and MK on their phones, Pigsy working on breakfast, Sandy pouring some tea, Red Son sipping some coffee, Tang reading a newspaper, and Wukong leaning against the kitchen wall, looking lost in thought. (They'd all long since learned it was pointless to try to wake Macaque up, he was not a morning person.)
Overall, it was an average morning.
And then Wukong started giggling, glowing softly. He was clearly lost in thought, probably completely forgetting where he was at the moment. Mei looked up from her phone to glance over at him.
"What, did you think of something funny, 'Sparkle Snickers'?" Mei asked, and Wukong-
Wukong's giggling abruptly cut off as became aware of where he was again, and as soon as he registered what Mei had just said, he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck in a flustered motion.
It took a moment for the others to connect the dots.
"Oh you've got to be kidding me." Mei said, an evil smirk appearing on her face. "Glitter Gleam."
Wukong's tail waved back and forth in a nervous gesture.
"Giggly Nightlight."
A nervous smile formed on Wukong's face.
"Twinkle Toes-"
"Okay, stop." Wukong said, a hand covering his face, a faint blush visible on the tips of his ears. MK almost felt bad for him, but at the same time...
"C'mon, after everything I've tried teasing you with, nicknames about your Giggle Glow is what gets to you?" Mei asked, laughing a bit herself as Wukong squeaked as the word "giggle glow" left her mouth. "Seriously? This is what embarrasses you?"
"It's not embarrassing-" Wukong said, which was a sentence nobody really believed, considering the way he still wouldn't look at them and the fact that the faint blush still hadn't faded. "It's just, not....cool, y'know?"
"No, I don't know." Mei said, leaning forwards on her elbows. "Please, enlighten me."
Wukong stuttered, clearly trying to figure out how to explain it, as MK set his phone down on the table.
"Is that why the stories don't mention that you glow?" MK asked, "You don't think it's cool, which, by the way, it totally is, but since you believe it isn't you got them to cut it out cause you're embarrassed over it?"
"It's not cool! And I'm not embarrassed!" Wukong denied, fur bristling as the others leveled him with a look that clearly showed that they didn't believe that statement one bit. He looked around the room, registering everyone's expressions-
He could tell they weren't going to let him live this down.
So he did the first thing he thought of.
He turned and ran away, hitting the light switch as he did so, sending the room into complete darkness so no one could see where he went.
"Wh- hey!" MK cried out, standing up and fumbling for the light switch. As he did so, he heard a thump, a muffled yelp, and a door shut, but he was mainly focused on trying to find the stupid light, why could you never find it when you need it-
The light switched back on, revealing that MK had been a good distance away from it. Macaque stood beside it, looking confused.
"What is going on?" He asked, looking confused.
"Monkey King ran away over something stupid." Red Son said, filling the shadow monkey in on the situation.
"So, what, you're all going to go look for him?" Macaque asked, sighing when the others nodded in response. "I should've expected that...."
"C'mon! You can search with us!" Mei said, grabbing hold of Macaque's arm and dragging him with her, MK and Red Son following close behind. Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy opted to stay in the kitchen, in case Wukong ended up circling back. MK, Mei, Macaque, and Red Son ended up walking through the halls, keeping an eye out for any sign of the Monkey King.
"Couldn't you just, y'know, use your hearing to find him?" Red Son eventually asked Macaque, who stumbled a little at the question, having not expected to be addressed.
"Who, me?" He asked, looking...oddly nervous. "Nah, he has ways of getting around it anyways."
"...Are you sure?" MK asked, now feeling just the slightest bit suspicious. "I remember you saying that you could hear anything-"
"I'm sure! I won't be any help here, I assure you!" Macaque said, shrinking down a bit as the three continued to stare at him.
"Y'know, you've seemed a little off this morning...." Mei said, and Macaque scratched the side of his face nervously. "Are you....okay?"
"What? Oh, I'm fine." Macaque said, chuckling nervously- and immediately realizing his mistake, as a faint glow resonated from him for a few moments. It wasn't long, but it was enough.
"Monkey King." MK said, and Wukong turned, dropping the Macaque glamour as he ran down the hallway, the trio chasing after him. he rounded a corner, and the trio turned to follow, but MK paused, hearing a faint banging coming from the closet door. He stopped, letting the others continue to chase Wukong, and turned, opening the door-
And the real Macaque tumbled out, onto the floor.
"I'm going to kill him." He mumbled, distractedly letting MK help him stand up. "He locked me in the closet. I'm going to kill him."
"Yeah, maybe save the murder for later." MK said, turning to follow where he'd seen the others gone.
-
He eventually found them, standing in the common room, looking around them with a healthy does of suspicion.
"Where'd he go?" MK asked.
"We know he hasn't left this room. Red Son made sure of it." Mei said, Red Son holding up a tablet to show he'd hacked into the ship's security systems. "But as for where in this room he is...."
"...As much as I hate this, I've got an idea." Macaque said, the others looking at him with mild shock. "Don't look at me like that, I'm only doing this because it'll be funny, and cause I wanna get revenge on him for locking me in a closet."
"The floor is yours." Red Son said, doing an over dramatic bow as he said it. Macaque rolled his eyes (and MK mentally decided to bring up the shadow monkey's own dramatics later-) but he stepped forwards, into the center of the room.
A shadow clone appeared, slowly emerging from Macaque's own shadow. It stood there for a moment, still, before turning and merging with a shadow on the wall.
A few seconds passed.
And then a faint glow, as well as some muffled giggling, came from behind one of the cabinets. MK quickly moved forwards, reaching behind it-
And pulling out a doll-sized Monkey King, holding him up by the edge of his clothes.
Wukong squeaked, quickly switching back to his usual size, sending MK a bit off balance, and trying to run away, but MK refused to let him, holding tight to the edge of Wukong's outfit. It took a few minutes of struggling, (which Macaque clearly enjoyed, if his own muffled laughter was anything to go by.), but eventually Wukong gave up, sighing as he fell down onto his back, laying there, defeated. Mei and Red Son moved to stand closer to him, and MK lightly nudged him with his foot.
"You ready to admit that your Light-up Laughter is cool now?" He asked, and Wukong groaned, rolling over so that his face was hidden by the floor.
"Stop giving it stupid names!" He whined, "And it's not cool!"
"I should warn you." Macaque said, sitting down on the nearby couch, "You're not going to make much progress on this. He was like this even back when we we're 'friends'. I'm surprised he didn't grow out of it, honestly."
"You shut up." Wukong hissed, sitting up a little just to glare at Macaque before going back to laying face down on the floor. "I should've never let myself laugh in front of any of you."
Well. That sentence was, on some level, mildly concerning, but MK decided to brush past it for now.
"Aw, c'mon Monkey King." Mei said, kneeling down and poking Wukong's arm, repeatedly. "You can't just mope over a few nicknames forever."
"Watch me."
"If you keep this up, we'll have to start calling you the emo monkey, instead of Macaque." Red Son said.
"Should I be offended by that?" Macaque asked, "I feel like I should be offended by that-"
Wukong didn't respond, continuing to lay face down on the floor. Mei continued poking his arm. After a few minutes of consideration, MK started to lightly nudge Wukong as well. Red Son knelt down beside MK to start poking Wukong in the back with a pencil he'd found on a nearby desk. Macaque watched this go down with thinly veiled amusement.
After a few moments of no response from Wukong though, Macaque sighed, standing up and making his way over. Silently, he created a few pairs of sunglasses, handing them off to each member of the trio, indicating for them to put them on. A bit confused, but willing to go along with it, they complied, sliding the glasses over their eyes. Macaque, having affirmed that their eyes were protected, slid his own pair of sunglasses on, then looked down at Wukong, contemplating.
And then he leaned down and skittered his fingers behind Wukong's knee. The reaction was immediate, Wukong squeaking before breaking into loud laughter, lighting up like a beacon, sparkles shining all around him. It was nearly bright enough to make the trio shield their eyes, even with sunglasses. Wukong kicked his leg out, very nearly missing hitting Macaque in the face, rolling over and getting up, practically scrambling to get away from the other monkey.
"Don't do that." He hissed, once he'd managed to get a hold of himself, the light dimming and vanishing completely. (Mei, quietly, mumbled something about wishing she'd gotten that on camera.)
"Either you stop moping around and accept the facts about your, what did Mei call it- right, 'Giggle Glow'-" Macaque said, giving Wukong a threatening look. "Or I tickle you again. Your choice."
".....Fine. Fine!" Wukong said, "It's cool! Whatever! Can we just drop this already?!"
-
They didn't drop it. They very much didn't drop it.
Whenever Wukong so much as lightly chuckled, someone would comment on the glow. At some point, he genuinely considered the idea of just never laughing in the others presence ever again, but that plan was quickly laid to rest-
The others were just. Too. Funny.
"Kill me." Wukong muttered, his face on the table, a faint glow still surrounding him from residual laughter. "You guys are going to kill me."
"Yep, that's the plan!" Macaque called from the door way. "Can't believe it took you so long to figure that out, Sparkling Peach-"
"I hate all of you."
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Unexpected - Stucky x Reader
Pairing Grouping: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes
Warnings: Steamy fluff with a dash cupful of foul mouthed Reader and super soldier. Also liberal use of sugar and baby but no sugar babies.
A/N: short fluff is no 3300+ of very steamy fluff. I’m gonna go with 16+ on this one folks. Oh, and STUCKY!!!
***
They didn’t think anything of it at first. It was just little things after all. Things that hardly warranted their attention. It wasn’t until Tony mentioned it that they began to take notice.
“Hey, Capsicle, you and tin man been sneaking off to the store without telling anyone? You could at least ask if we needed anything? I’ve been out of blueberries for days,” Tony said one night as the team sat to watch a movie.
“What are you talking about, Stark?” Steve asked with a furrowed brow.
Tony gestured at the bag of gummy worms that you and Bucky were currently sharing. “Just that you two seem to be the only ones around here that never run out of your favorite goodies. You could have stocked up for everyone. That’s all I’m saying.” He shrugged his shoulders and waved a hand through the air as if it wasn’t important, though clearly it was if he’d brought it up.
You rolled your eyes. “Tony, you’re a billionaire. Pay someone to do your shopping and have it delivered, you big baby.”
The super soldiers on either side of you laughed and you settled more firmly into your seat between them. Tony started to say something else but Natasha smacked his arm. “Shut up. Movie’s starting.”
He grumbled which brought another smile to your face. He really was an overgrown kid sometimes. Really, you were just pleased that he’d shut the hell up. After all, if you’d wanted your crushes to know you were secretly taking care of them, you would have done it not so secretly. Liking both of them was awkward enough without them being aware of it, thank you very much.
Honestly, until that day, Steve had just assumed that Tony had someone that replenished the food in the kitchenette on their floor. True, they’d never seen anyone, but it wasn’t like it happened by magic. It was just over a week later when Steve glanced up from his drawing when Bucky walked into their living room. “Hey Buck, you didn’t do any cleaning did you?”
Bucky snorted. “There’s never anything to clean is there?”
Steve frowned. “Yeah, I noticed that to. I asked Stark if he had a service that did our floor. You know what he said?”
“I’m guessing he said no or we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Bucky answered as he sat across the table from his boyfriend.
“He asked if I wanted him to get someone in to help us out.”
Confusion caused Bucky’s brow to furrow as he leaned forward. “So, someone has been coming into our space, replacing our food and cleaning up after us and we have no idea who it is?”
“Looks like it.”
There was a stretch of silence before Bucky asked, “Why?”
***
It started when the boys were on a mission. You’d raided Buck’s candy stash for movie night and before you replaced it, you’d done an inventory and picked up everything else they were needing. It wasn’t like it took much more effort. And when you’d seen how happy they were when they arrived home to all their favorites, that was all the incentive you needed to keep doing it.
You made sure to refill their stash when they were on mission or out for training so they wouldn’t catch you. There was always the chance they’d return when you weren’t expecting it, but the odds were slim. After all, you made a living by sneaking around unseen, hence the name Shadow. The cleaning started when they were gone on a mission and you didn’t want them coming home to clutter and dust. You weren’t even sure that they noticed, but it made you happy to have something else you could do for them.
Steve and Bucky were currently on week three of a mission with Nat and Sam and you were sorting out the groceries you’d just bought while you tried to think of something special you could do for them.
“So, why do you do it exactly?” you heard from behind you, causing you to jump. The twins were in San Francisco until tomorrow so you should have had the floor to yourself.
You scowled when you found Tony standing behind you wearing his infamous smirk.
“Jumpy?”
Your cheeks heated as you turned back to the task at hand, hoping Tony wouldn’t notice at least half of your food was for the super soldiers. “Mind was just elsewhere. What’s up?”
“I was just wondering why you pamper the geriatric twins if you aren’t going to take credit for it?”
You froze briefly before finishing up and placing the boys’ food back into bags so you could carry it upstairs. Finally, you turned and crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned against the counter behind you. “I don’t suppose it would do me any good to deny it?”
He chuckled as he moved closer. “They asked me to look into it before they left. It was the complete lack of evidence that led me to you actually. Only one person I know can get around my system like that.”
“Shit.” You were a technomancer and were very skilled at making tech do what you wanted. Tony hadn’t been thrilled the first time you’d completely circumvented the tower’s security. Now he used you to test out new systems. Finally, you quit freaking out enough to meet his eyes. “Are you going to tell them?”
He tilted his head and frowned at you. “Why are you so dead set against them figuring this out? You know they won’t be anything other than grateful.”
“Because they’ll want to know why and I can’t tell them that.” Your voice was quiet but you knew he’d heard your answer.
“Well how about you tell me then, sparky?” he suggested.
You rolled your eyes at his stupid nickname as you sighed. He wasn’t the most trustworthy when it came to secrets but you were dying to tell someone. And honestly, he would probably be the least judgmental out of everyone. “You can’t tell anyone, Tony. I mean it.”
He rubbed his hands together and closed most of the distance between you. “My lips are sealed. You have my word.”
You arched a brow but chose not to comment. You closed your eyes not wanting to look at him as you made the confession. “I might possibly be just a little bit in love with them.” When you got no response you opened one eye to find Tony grinning at you as he rocked on his feet. You opened the other eye to give him a narrow-eyed look. “What?”
“I think you should tell them.”
“Not funny, Stark.”
“Wasn’t meant to be, sweetheart.” You just stared at him, saying nothing. After a few moments, he sighed. “Listen, as amusing as it might be to trick you into having that conversation with them and recording it to watch at my leisure later, I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“That little admission didn’t exactly help your cause any.”
He ran a hand down his face. “I can’t tell you that I know for sure how they’ll react, because I can’t. I also can’t tell you how many times I’ve caught them checking you out when they think no one’s watching. Or how many times they’ve argued about who got to sit beside you when there was only one seat left. Or the number of whispered conversations they have that fade away when you walk into the room. And while I have had many female friends over the years, I have never suggested any of them sit in my lap unless I was trying to take things beyond friendship.”
You frowned. “I sit in their laps all the time.”
His hands went out to the side as if to say ‘see?’.
Your frown deepened as you recalled something else. “Wait, didn’t you try to get me to sit in your lap when I was still new?”
Tony chuckled and turned around to walk off. “Only proving my point, Y/L/N,” he called over his shoulder.
It was barely five minutes after he left that you gathered the bags of food to take upstairs and put away. You weren’t certain you’d survive sitting around doing nothing and there was only so much training you could stand in a day. “Protocol five, J,” you said as you stepped onto the elevator. “Super soldiers’ floor, please.”
“Of course, Miss.” Protocol five would shut down all recording devices anywhere in your vicinity until you turned it off.
You made short work of putting the food away and glanced around. Things were fairly tidy though they could use a dust and a quick vacuum. A peek in both bedrooms had you wrinkling your nose. They’d had back-to-back missions before they’d left on the current one and obviously hadn’t had time to do laundry. While the boys normally slept together, they maintained their own spaces in case one of them was having a bad night or just needed some time to themselves.
Moving into Bucky’s space, you gathered up all the laundry and threw it out into the hallway. You also stripped the bedding and added it to the pile. You put a load in the washer before moving to Steve’s room. There was more laundry there as it was the space they shared the most often. You added to the pile already in the hallway before stripping those sheets as well.
After sorting the clothes into loads, you took about half of them down to your floor and started a load there as well before heading back upstairs. You opened windows in both bedrooms to let them air out as you put fresh sheets on the beds. You dusted and straightened and vacuumed only pausing as necessary to switch out the laundry.
By the time you finished all but the last loads of laundry, their rooms looked better than they had in months and they had clean sheets to crawl into when they got home. You’d cleaned the rest of the floor as well and were heading back to your floor to take care of the last of the clothes. You had to wait a bit for them to finish drying, but then once it was all folded and sorted, you loaded up the laundry basket to put it away. You were happy you’d gotten so much done.
Apparently ignoring your feelings made you productive, who knew? Most of the clothes in your basket were Buck’s so you headed to his room first. You reached for the handle, only to have the door open on its own. Your mouth dropped and the basket fell to your feet as you ran your gaze up a naked torso to see Bucky frowning at you. He was dressed in a pair of sweats and his hair was still wet from a shower. His gaze darted from you to the basket and back as a grin crept over his face. “Fuck,” you breathed out and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I-I need to go.”
He reached out and snagged your wrist before you got more than a step. “I don’t think so, sugar.” He tugged you gently back in his direction and lifted your chin with a finger since you seemed unable to look at him on your own. “Where do you think you’re going to escape to anyway, Y/N? We know where you live.”
“I was thinking of moving to Alaska. I hear it’s nice there this time of year.”
“You hate the cold,” he said with a laugh and looped an arm around your waist.
Your heart raced and you prayed that his stupid super soldier senses wouldn’t clue him in, but who were you kidding? You’d never be that lucky.
“Oh, Steve,” he called in a sing-song voice. “I have something for you.”
“Not now, Buck. I’m…” Steve’s voice trailed off as he stepped into the hall and saw you. His ears and cheeks turned a rather adorable shade of red and you couldn’t stop a giggle at the sight. “What’s this?” he asked looking between the two of you.
Bucky nudged the laundry basket into view with his foot. “I intercepted her on her way to put away the last of the laundry.”
Steve straightened immediately. “Oh, did you?”
And damned if his voice didn’t drop a whole octave when he said it. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. You squirmed in Bucky’s hold but didn’t try to escape. There was no point. He chuckled behind you and passed you over to Steve when he held a hand out toward you. You licked your lips as you took it and let him lead you into the living room.
He sat on the couch and pulled you down onto his lap. Bucky sat right beside him and pulled your legs onto his lap. You cleared your throat. “I can sit by myself.”
“I’m sure you can, baby,” Steve assured. “But I’m happy with you in my lap. And you like to make me happy, don’t you, Y/N?”
Oh.
My.
God.
That was not fair. Not fucking fair at all.
Steve trailed a finger up your spine, chuckling when you shivered at his touch. His finger continued it’s journey up your neck then back along its previous path as he talked. “When Buck and I were kids, there wasn’t a lot of money to go around. Less so for me because of my meds. Our folks taking care of us meant putting food on the table and mending our clothes. Sometimes there might be enough for a dime novel or some sweets, but for the most part we took care of each other.”
Bucky kept rubbing little circles on your ankle with his thumb. “That hasn’t changed much over the last several decades. You know, except when I was trying to kill him. But then someone else started taking care of us. In a million little ways we didn’t always notice. Not right away anyway.”
“But then we did notice and we started making note of everything that made us feel cared for.” Steve’s hand flattened on your back and his fingers flexed slightly as he said, “Loved.”
“So, tell us, Y/N, why did you do it?” Bucky asked.
You shrugged and stared at your hands where they twisted together in your lap. “I stole your candy and needed to replace it so I picked up some other stuff. But then I saw how happy you were when you had your favorite snacks when you got home and that made me happy. The more I did, the happier and more relaxed you seemed so I kept doing it. I like it when you’re happy. Both of you.”
“That the only reason, baby? You like us happy?” Steve asked as he trailed that damned finger back up your spine.
You jumped out of his lap and stepped back until you were out of easy reach for either of them. They stared at you in surprise and you held out a hand to stop them when they started to stand. “No. You stay put. You two aren’t playing fair.”
“How’s that, doll?” Bucky asked, his blue eyes sparking with amusement.
“You with the touching and the sugar and the arm around the waist,” you said gesturing to Bucky before turning to his boyfriend. “And you with the baby and more touching and the deep voice. It’s not fair. It’s not.” You sucked in a breath. “My entire life I’ve been attracted to the unattainable guy. Every fucking time. But this time I really outdid myself because I fell in love with not just one, but two unattainable men and they’re dating each other. I mean fuck my life. Seriously. What is that? So yes, I did all of this because I love you. Both of you. And I’ll keep doing it for the same reason and it will always make me happy to see you happy. But at the end of the day, you two have each other and I don’t and that’s not fucking fair so stop. Just stop, okay?”
Steve stood first as if afraid to startle you. He stepped forward and swept his thumb across your cheek wiping away the tears you hadn’t been aware of. His hands settled on either side of your neck as he studied your eyes for the longest time. “You’ve got quite the fucking mouth on you, baby,” he said then tugged you forward and slammed his lips onto yours.
You hesitated for only a moment, a brief stretch of time and then you let yourself go. Your Steve was kissing you and it was nothing like you’d imagined. There was nothing soft or questioning about it. It was firm, sure, and altogether fucking fantastic. His hands moved to your thighs and lifted as his lips stayed glued to yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and as he turned, his lips slid from your mouth to travel the length of your neck. His open mouth kisses alternated with tiny nips that were sure to bruise and you rolled your hips against him in response. He hissed against your skin and you smiled.
A large hand grasped your chin and turned your head until another pair of lips slanted over yours. Bucky. His kiss was dark and rich and full of promises. He shifted his body so he supported your back as his hands found the hem of your shirt. Cool metal and warm flesh contrasted against your skin as he slid over your belly and up to caress your breasts. “Oh God.” You rolled your hips again, Steve pressed against your front and Bucky pressed against your ass.
“Fuck,” Steve said as his hands tightened on your waist in an effort to still your movements.
Bucky chuckled against the back of your neck and bit at the skin there, his bite firmer, more punishing than Steve’s. “What’s the matter, punk? She pushing you to the edge already?”
“Suck it, Barnes.”
“I intend to, Rogers.”
That had you grinning. This playful love they had between them was what you wanted. Was part of the reason you fell in love with both of them. Bucky’s gaze shifted to you and he mirrored your grin. “I love you, Buck.”
His grin widened. “You hear that, Stevie? She loves me. God, that’s sexy.” He kissed you soundly then pulled you from Steve’s arms to carry you bridal style to the bedroom. “I love you, too, sugar.”
That earned him another kiss. You put your hand against the door frame to stop him before he could carry you inside. This needed to be said before you were all in bed together. You turned to find Steve with a question in his eyes. “I love you, too, Steve.”
His smile was sweet, soft. “I know you do, baby.” He placed a hand on your cheek and gave you a soft kiss. “I love you, too. Have for awhile if I’m honest. We both have. Turns out we were both feeling guilty for loving someone else and it was the same girl. Never dreamed you’d actually be ours though.” You kissed him again and it only took a moment for it to take on a rougher edge.
Bucky turned you so he could carry you into the room, causing your lips to be pulled from Steve’s. You whimpered at the loss of contact and both men chuckled. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll have more of us than you can handle in a moment.”
You squealed as Buck tossed you into the middle of their king sized bed. You propped yourself up on your elbows and bit your lip as you looked at the two men standing before you. “Promise, soldiers?”
“Oh, sweetheart, that’s a goddamn guarantee.”
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you’ll always know me || aaron hotchner x reader
Summary: "I would have stayed... If you asked me to.
After your high school graduation, you left without saying goodbye to Aaron Hotchner, your best friend, and nobody had heard from you since. Years later, you're back in DC, and catching up with Aaron brings more than you could have possibly hoped for.
Warnings: mentions of weed
A/N: I really wanted some soft Hotch content in my life after all the angst in my best habit, and this is about as soft as I can get. Inspired by Taylor Swift's "dorothea". Honestly, I was listening to evermore, blacked out for about three hours, and this is what came from that. There is no other explanation for this. It's written differently than my usual style, but I hope y'all like it still!
read on ao3 || masterlist
~~~~~~~
“What’s got you in such a rush?”
Rossi eyes Aaron carefully as the latter circles around his office, double and triple-checking that he didn’t forget anything. The last thing he wants is to have to come back to the office and cut his day short.
Aaron shoves a few case files in his briefcase. “An old friend from high school is in town and I’m meeting up with her.”
Rossi perks up at the word ‘her’ and he leans against the door frame. Aaron notices this, too, because he shakes his head quickly. “It’s not like that. We both got sent to boarding school for being problem children and we became quick friends. I haven’t talked to her since graduation. She just packed up her stuff and left the very next day.”
“You sound bitter,” Rossi points out.
“Not at all,” he lies, trying to forget the hurt of running to your dorm for your weekly breakfast together, only to be met with an empty room and a singular polaroid. “I knew she hated it there and her goal was to travel and see as many places as she could. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s back stateside at all. Last I heard, she was doing some art apprenticeship in Italy, but that was years ago.”
“You sound like you have a long evening ahead of you, so I’ll get out of your hair. And have some fun tonight, Aaron. You deserve it,” Rossi adds on as an afterthought.
The corners of Aaron's mouth lift slightly. “I will. Try not to let the building burn down while I’m gone. Reid is back on his physics magic kick, and I think I heard something about a lighter.”
Rossi gives Aaron a two-finger, half-hearted salute in acknowledgment, which is all it takes for Aaron to shut his office door and head towards the elevator. Knowing that you’re just outside, he has to make a conscious effort to slow his pace from an excited jog to just an anxious speed walk. The elevator ride is slow, seemingly stopping at every single floor on the way down, which gives his mind ample time to wander and think back to graduation day.
“There you are!” Aaron shouts from across the football field as he runs up to you, shoving through bustling groups of families trying to take pictures. He has so many stoles and cords and leis around his neck that you can barely see the suit he’s wearing underneath his gown. It’s a stark contrast to you, with only a singular chord for academic achievement, although a 3.2 wasn’t much of an achievement in the eyes of most people at boarding school.
“Here I am!” you laugh, throwing your arms around him in a hug and breathing in the smell of his cologne.
“Where’re your parents? Didn’t they come?”
“Of course they didn’t. They’re not ones for celebrating something as trivial as high school graduation, not when it’s just expected of me.” You roll your eyes. “What about you? I thought you and Haley were going to do the whole ‘meet the family’ thing today?”
Aaron is oblivious to the bitterness in your voice, although that’s nothing new. “We are, but I just wanted to give these to you.” It’s then that you notice the bouquet of flowers in his hand, although it’s now being pressed into your arms. “As a congrats. And a thank you for being there for me this whole time. You’re my best friend.”
You try to ignore the ache in your chest at his words. “Thank you, Aaron. I… I didn’t get you anything, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he waves it off. “If you want to get me something, breakfast is your treat tomorrow.”
“Okay, deal,” you agree, the smile coming back to your face. Selfishly, you don’t want him to go back to Haley or his family just yet. You want him to stay there with you so you don’t feel so lonely in the crowd of happy graduates. “God, I can’t believe you’re staying in D.C. for college. We always talked about getting out, seeing the world and never coming back.”
Aaron shrugs, and you watch as he brushes away a piece of his hair that falls into his face. “I’m hoping that going to GW for undergrad will make it easier to get into law school there.”
“And Haley Brooks is still here for another year,” you point out, half accusatory.
“Yeah, that, too.” Aaron chuckles uncomfortably before quickly switching the conversation. “What about you? Have you decided what you’re going to do?”
“There’s an art school in Glasgow I’m thinking of going to. But, you know… George Washington also has an art program. It’s pretty nice, too. I’m still deciding.” You trail off, looking straight into Aaron’s eyes, giving him every chance in the world to make the decision for you.
Aaron hesitates, fighting an internal battle. “Go to Glasgow!” he says, fake enthusiasm in his voice, but your disappointment blocks out anything but his actual words. “Then I’ll have an excuse to visit Scotland.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was leaning towards, too,” you lie. “Aaron, I—”
You’re cut off by a voice calling his name. You both turn around to see Haley Brooks waving him over, her other hand holding 7-year-old Sean’s hand. She looks like spring personified, her blonde hair in bouncy curls and her pink sundress swishing around her long, slender legs. Her smile is so big that it could have parted storm clouds, and you want nothing more than to hate her with every single fiber of your being.
But then you see Aaron, returning her megawatt smile with his own, one you rarely ever saw, and how can you hate somebody who makes him so happy?
“I have to go, I’m sorry,” he says, although there’s not even a hint of regret in his voice. “But I’ll see you for one last Sunday breakfast tomorrow?”
“I’ll see you then,” you lied.
How Aaron could have missed the signs of your unhappiness, he’ll never know. At that time, all he knew was that you left without ever saying goodbye, leaving behind only a polaroid of the two of you from your weekend trip to Virginia Beach, both of you drunk and laughing with your arms wrapped around each other. He still has it, buried in his nightstand somewhere, but he hasn’t had the courage to look at it for a few years now.
As Aaron steps out of the FBI building, he recognizes you instantly, even though it’s only the back of your head, and it causes his breath to catch in his throat. He calls your name and watches as you turn around, your hair whipping around you, and the fact that you still have that same mischievous glint in your eyes is enough to make him feel like he’s sixteen again and nervously skipping class with you holding his hand and pulling him towards the school gates.
“Aaron!” You jog up to him and throw your arms around him in a hug, which he happily reciprocates. You press a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away, and Aaron’s entire face burns.
You keep your hands on his biceps, holding him at arm’s length, as you study him. He looks almost exactly the same as he did all those years ago, with soft hair and the slightest bit of stubble, but he looks less carefree. He seems more mature, like life had aged him 100 years. Still, as cute as high school Aaron was, it had nothing on how good he looks now. “Look at you, Mr. FBI, all suit and corporate-looking! I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Yeah, I guess I’ve changed quite a bit,” he admits, and the sight of his dimples makes you want to melt right there into the sidewalk. “It’s really good to see you again. I’ve missed you.”
“Oh, I’m sure you barely thought about me,” you joke, but hurt flashes through your eyes.
Aaron wants to argue, to tell you that he thinks about you all the time, but decides against it. He doesn’t want to spend the precious few hours he has with you bringing up old issues. “Are you hungry? Because there’s this diner a few blocks down with giant milkshakes.”
“Why are we still standing here, then? All you had to say was milkshakes, they’re my favorite.”
“I know. I remember,” he says, and that all-too-familiar pang in your heart comes back like it had never left. “Come on, we can walk and cut through a park.”
The two of you start your walk in comfortable silence, listening to the bustling city around you. Every once in a while, your hands would bump into his, and you were doing everything you could to ignore it.
“So did you ever go to that art school?” he asks suddenly, looking over at you.
You nod, a soft smile forming on your face. “I did. You were right, I loved Scotland.”
“Where did you go after that? Nobody heard from you.”
Your eyes sparkle as memories of your life the past few years flash through your mind. “Everywhere. Literally. I took a bunch of odd jobs and spent my time traveling,” you admitted. “I taught English in Vietnam for a year, worked on a cruise ship that went around South America, was an au pair for a French ambassador, went on research expeditions… Even dated a pilot for all of six months. Anything I could do that would let me see the world.” You laugh to yourself, shaking your head fondly. “I really put that private boarding school tuition to good use, huh? My parents were pissed.”
“It sounds like you were living the life you dreamed of,” Aaron says softly, looking down at you.
“It was,” you agree, your voice a little sad.
“So then why are you back here in DC?”
You shrug, your hands clasped behind your back, and you step down on a particularly crunchy leaf. “I’m just passing through. I’ve been going around the US and looking for a place to settle down. Finally. Figured I might as well put that art degree to good use. Maybe I’ll open a gallery or something.”
Aaron nods slowly as the chill of autumn runs through his bones. It’s nice, though, in a weird way. He’s always preferred the fall over spring. “Where have you looked so far?”
“Lots of places. San Francisco, Portland, Seattle, Atlanta, San Antonio, Miami… I’m heading up to New York next. Nothing’s felt right so far. But enough about me, how are you? I heard you married Haley Brooks.”
That same bitterness you felt in high school when you talked about Haley comes back with a vengeance. It’s unfair, and you know that. How was Aaron supposed to know that you were practically in love with him in high school if you never told him? Even now, you’re sure that he hasn’t put together the pieces.
You watch as his gaze falls slightly. “I did. She died a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and you reach out to give his hand a small squeeze.
“We got divorced a little while before it happened,” he explains, unsure why it’s so important to him that you know that. “I blamed myself for it for a long time. But I’ve, uh… I’ve made peace with it now.”
You give him a comforting smile, fully aware of the fact that you’re still holding his hand. “Aaron Hotchner, making peace with something in his life? I never thought I’d see the day.”
Aaron chuckles and bumps his shoulder to yours. “I’ve been known to do it a few times. But only a few. Haley and I have a son, though. His name is Jack. He’s 8 now.”
You shake your head in disbelief, and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “And you’re a father? Wow, you really have changed.”
“Is that a bad thing?” he asks, and you shake your head wordlessly.
“I like every version of Aaron Hotchner,” you promise. “Besides, change is a good thing. Especially since this city hasn’t changed a bit.”
Aaron looks around, eyebrows furrowed, like he’s seeing DC for the very first time. “It’s actually changed quite a bit. But it’s subtle. Only people who have been here as long as I have would even notice it, probably.”
The words cut through you both as a painful reminder of your abrupt departure from DC, and the silence settles over the two of you like a thick fog. This conversation was going to have to happen no matter what, you knew that going into this meeting with Aaron, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon.
“I would have stayed,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “If you asked me to.”
Aaron shakes his head as his Adam’s apple bobs. “I thought about it. But I couldn’t do that to you. I knew you wanted to see the world, and you said it yourself. This city had nothing left to offer you.”
You pause, rubbing your thumb over your fingertips with your freehand. “It had you,” you reply, and Aaron feels like he was just stabbed in the heart. “That would have been enough.” Seeing Aaron’s dejected face, you quickly keep talking. “But I get it, don’t worry. You were head over heels for Haley Brooks. Everybody knew you two were meant to be together.””
“What does that have to do with you leaving?” he asks, more accusatory than he intended.
“Everything.”
Aaron breathes out your name, unsure of what to say until he settles on: “I’m sorry.”
You wave him off, forcing a laugh. “Don’t be. I was 17 years old with a crush. We do stupid things, like want to stay at home for a boy. I’m glad I left. Besides, Haley Brooks was clearly the love of your life, and far be it from me to try and break up the golden couple.”
The two of you stop in front of the diner and you drop Aaron’s hand, much to his disappointment, although you’re still close enough to him to see your reflection in his brown eyes. “I didn’t know you felt like that about me,” he says.
“Which is surprising, because everybody else definitely knew. But you’ve always been a little clueless when it comes to stuff like that,” you tease, flashing him a toothy smile. “But it’s in the past. So come on, I want to hear about this FBI stuff and drink a milkshake so big it makes my stomach hurt.”
Twenty minutes later, you and Aaron find yourselves smushed together in a corner booth covered in cheap vinyl, splitting a chocolate milkshake and laughing as you stroll down memory lane.
“You know, I ran into Stephen yesterday! A little coffee shop not too far from here,” you tell Aaron.
Aaron almost drops the fry he was about to eat. “Do you mean Stoner Stephen? What is he doing back here?”
You take a sip of the milkshake, and Aaron’s gaze is intense as you wrap your lips around the straw. When you pull back, he’s still staring at the soft pink your lipstick leaves behind. “Apparently, he’s lived here for years. Also, did you know he’s crazy smart? Like… graduated 4th in our class, went to Brown undergrad and Columbia graduate, smart.”
Aaron’s eyes go wide in disbelief. “And this is the same guy who, completely sober, tried putting his mattress in the pool so that he didn’t have to sleep in his own dorm?”
“The very same one. He’s like a lobbyist now or something for some activist group.”
“Wow, I did not expect that. Do you remember when he got so high that he thought his joint was going to catch the dorms on fire?” Aaron asks, the words barely discernible through his laughter. “So he warned campus police that the whole school was going to burn down.”
“Yes!” you giggle, your head thrown back in laughter. “They thought it was an arson threat and they had to evacuate the whole school. I was taking an English final during that.”
Aaron’s shoulder pressing against yours makes a shiver run down your spine. You idly wonder how much closer he can get to you if he really tried.
As if reading your mind, Aaron turns towards you a little more so that your knees are touching and you can feel his breath on the side of your neck. “We went to the beach that weekend,” he says quietly, unwilling to break eye contact with you. “Drank cheap beer. You got stung by a jellyfish. I had to carry you back to the car.”
No, no. You were not about to fall for Aaron Hotchner’s charm again that easily. Not again. It took you too long to get over him the first time. Still, you were leaning closer to Aaron, and Aaron was leaning in towards you, and your noses brushed as you tilt your head to the side ever so slightly and—
And his phone rings. Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips one last time before pulling away, giving you an apologetic look.
“Hotchner,” he answers, and you pull your coat tighter around yourself as realization sinks into you. You feel like you’re 17 again, desperately waiting for Aaron to ask you to prom, only to hide in your dorm for days on end when he asked Haley Brooks.
When Aaron hangs up, he immediately reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet, setting enough cash on the table to cover the tab and tip. “That was work. We have to fly out to Arizona. I’m sorry.”
You nod understandingly. “Gotta catch the bad guys. When do you leave?”
It’s silent for a few torturous moments before he finally answers. “An hour, at most. We brief at the office and then get on the plane.”
“Wow,” you breathe. “You weren’t kidding when you said that you live out of your suitcase. Can I walk back with you, at least?”
Aaron smiles, a small smile that makes you wonder how often he actually smiles now. It used to be a lot, but from what he’s told you, it seems like he’s had a rough go of it the last couple of years, and has a lot less to smile about. It makes you sad because when you were traveling the world, his smile was the one thing you missed the most.
“I’d really like that.”
The two of you make small talk on the way back, swapping stories about Jack and your various adventures around the globe. The autumn air is crisp with leaves falling all around you. At one point, there was a big gust of wind, and leaves and pine needles got blown onto the two of you, and you took your sweet time running your fingers through his hair, bushing it all off him.
When you get to the entrance of the FBI building, neither one of you says anything. You just stand there, both unwilling to say goodbye. You turn to face each other, just as close as you were in the diner booth.
“Oh, you have a…” Aaron delicately reaches his hand to your hair. His fingers in your hair make your stomach do flips, and you’re almost positive he can hear your racing heartbeat. His eyes stay trained on yours the entire time, never blinking. “Pine needle,” he whispers, holding the offending object between his fingers.
“Thanks,” you breathe, and you’re not sure if it’s the autumn chill or his hand reaching to cup your cheek that sends goosebumps throughout your body.
As if he were magnetic, you rise onto your toes, bringing yourself closer to him, and you press your lips against his. Aaron deepens the kiss and runs his thumb across your cheekbone. His other hand wraps itself around your waist. The kiss is slow and sensual and better than anything you could have dreamed of — and you dream of Aaron kissing you more often than you’d like to admit.
All too soon, the two of you pull away from each other, both wearing matching smiles.
“I should probably… get in there… before my team sends out a search party,” Aaron says reluctantly, pointing towards the entrance.
You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Go save lives. I’ll probably be around for a few more days before heading up to New York. If you’re back by then.”
Aaron purses his lips, deep in thought. “You’re definitely settling down somewhere? Done with seeing the world?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Have you… Do you think…” Aaron takes a grounding breath, trying to gather the words he was too afraid to ask back at graduation. “Have you ever considered settling down here? There’s a pretty big art community here.”
You shrug, ignoring excitement building in your chest. “I think my work is a little too experimental for the people of the capitol.”
“You’d be surprised,” he chuckles.
You bring your lower lip between your teeth, chewing nervously at it. “I don’t know… I left for a reason. I just don’t know what DC has to offer me anymore.”
Aaron spreads his arms out at his side, palms facing you in an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. “There’s me,” he offers, and, when your eyes go wide, he adds, “And Stoner Stephen, if I’m not enough.”
A laugh bursts out of you uncontrollably, which seems to put both you and Aaron at ease. “That makes it a very tempting offer,” you tease.
“And I have a coworker who flips houses. He’ll be able to tell you where to get the best deal on an apartment,” Aaron presses as if you need any more convincing. As if your mind isn’t already made up.
“First, I need to know that there’s more than one good place to get milkshakes,” you point out, shoving your hands in your coat pockets. “You’ll have to show me around when you get back.”
Aaron’s lips quirk up in a hopeful smile. “It’s a date.”
He makes his way towards the entrance of the Hoover Building, but you call out his name, stopping him once more. “We’ll also need a new Sunday breakfast place. Since our old one is closed down.”
Now, his smile is one of pure joy, and his eyes are sparkling in a way you haven’t seen in years. “I know just the place. As long as you don’t up and leave without telling me again.”
“Never again,” you promise, and for once, the idea of staying doesn’t terrify you.
“Then we’ll get breakfast together as soon as I get back.”
You smile at him, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours. “I’ll see you then.”
#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#criminal minds fanfiction#my writing
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I Like This Girl - SMAU*
Part 11
CorpseHusband x FemReader
Warnings: cussing, mentions of depression
A/N: there is mention of depression coming from y/n’s side, but it’s not gonna be a huge point in the story unless you guys want it to be. i’ve been going through a lot, hence why i mentioned what y/n was going through, but i don’t want to put it in the smau since it can be a heavy topic. i was thinking about it because it’ll make some plot points, but if it makes ANY of you uncomfortable, i won’t. also, super sorry for not updating as frequently as i was. i’m trying to get back on that. school is consuming my life like... well read the story and you’ll see like what ;)
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You sit on your chair, waiting for Corpse to call. Yes, you wait for him because you don’t want to look like a desperate bitch and call him first.
“Whaddup, baby,” Corpse greets. Same fucking greeting like every other time he’s called you, but you still get butterflies every time you hear it.
“Hi, babe,” You greet back, a smirk playing on your lips. Yeah, it’s not ‘baby,’ but it’s something. The only reason you’d called him ‘baby’ through text was to get him to say yes.
Corpse chuckles, and you can hear him shifting in his seat. “Yeah, well, baby works better.”
“I know. It got you to watch Miraculous with me. I like my men simple.” You shrug, getting Teleparty up. You send Corpse the link.
You hear him sigh and it makes you giggle a bit.
You’re so invested in the show - mostly Adrien - that you don’t hear Corpse calling your name.
“Y/N!” Corpse screams into his mic, making you jump slightly.
“What the fuck do you want?” You laugh, trying to stop your heart from beating so fast.
Corpse chuckles, “This is the man you’re simping for? He’s so ridiculously and utterly stupid.” Corpse speaks with some passion, and you can’t help but giggle.
“I guess I can say I like my men so ridiculously and utterly stupid, too.” You shrug. “I think it’s cute, you know? The fact that Marinette likes Adrien and Cat Noir likes Ladybug.”
“No, it’s stupid.” Corpse scoffs. Cute. He’d obviously been invested into the show - enough that he has an opinion on it. It’s not a normal call with him if you don’t tease him about it.
“You like it!” You tease in a sing-songy voice.
“The show? Uh, I don’t. It’s stupid...” Corpse defends himself, but you hear the faintest of a smile in his voice.
“You do!” You exclaim, wanting to jump out of your chair.
Corpse sighs, “I do because I’m a simp for Ladybug just like Cat Noir is.”
You hang up the Discord call, earning spams of messages from Corpse. You’re not actually mad, but Corpse probably thinks your somewhat upset. You can do that - pretend you’re upset when you really aren’t. That shit works like magic when playing Among Us.
He calls you through Discord again, and you give up on pretending to be mad at him.
“What do you want?” You say, trying your best to hide the smile in your voice.
“The only reason I like Ladybug is because she’s hard to get.”
“Mhm?” You drawl, waiting for him to go on.
“Never mind.” Corpse sighs.
“What the fuck? You can’t just do that. I hate when people do that.”
“Do what?”
You throw your hands in the air, “That ‘never mind’ shit. Like motherfucker, you were just about to tell me...”
“I was about to tell you, but decided against it. I don’t know. I’m a pussy.”
“Yeah, I know.” You laugh.
You both steer away from that, starting up a new conversation.
You don’t think you’ve ever laughed so hard with someone else - not even with Karl or Alex, and that’s saying a lot. Corpse is a genuinely funny guy. Sure, he’s made you giggle and laugh here and there, but when you guys are both slamming fists onto your desks, wiping tear, sniffling, and complaining your guys’ stomachs hurt, it’s different. It’s nice. You want to be able to experience it everyday, all day, never wanting to stop laughing with him. Never wanting to stop talking to him.
Corpse’s POV (this time in first person)
Gosh, never have I ever felt this way for someone before. I’ve only known Y/N for a little less than a month, but our friendship is amazing.
She’s funny, sweet, genuine, caring, loving, and so fucking gorgeous.
I know Y/N’s been through a lot. It’s something we’ve talked about before. I hated the fact that she had went through so much. It made me want to switch places with her. I wanted to be the one experiencing the pain rather than her. I can’t even imagine her hurting, crying herself to sleep, feeling the physical pain through mental pain.
It fucking breaks me, but I’d do anything so that I could’ve been the one being put through that shit - even with the shit I’m going through now.
Hearing her small, even breaths over the phone calms me down. I let myself relax, pulling the phone close to me, wishing it was Y/N who was really here.
She’s consuming my life and I’m not mad about it. For fuck’s sake, I can’t even watch a kid’s show without comparing her to the main character.
But the last thing I want to do is push her away.
I like this girl. Like, like like her.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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#corpse#corpse fic#corpse husband#corpse husband fic#corpse x reader#corpse x y/n#corpse husband smau#corpse husband social media au#corpse husband imagine
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Raise the Barre (Ch. 7)
Author: kpopfanfictrash
Pairing: Jimin / Reader
Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU
Warnings: mention of vomit, intense physical training, blood blisters
Word Count: 6,829
Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.
Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.
Fifteen minutes later, Jimin pulled to a stop at the edge of the curb.
Stepping from the sidewalk, you hastened to the passenger side and opened the door. Your wait had mostly been uneventful, but you hated standing alone in the dark for any longer than necessary. Sliding into the passenger seat, you pulled the door shut and turned sideways to face him.
“Thanks,” you exhaled, seeing him for the first time tonight.
Jimin looked sleepy, as though your call had woken him up – which it probably had, since it was near 1:30 AM. Yesterday when you spoke, Jimin had said he planned on going to bed early. He was dressed in what Noelle would’ve called a groutfit – grey sweats, grey hoodie and silver-framed glasses. You blinked at these, not having realized Jimin wore contacts.
“No problem.” Jimin stifled a yawn. “Seat belt.”
“Huh?”
“Put on your seat belt.” He nodded at the strap by your side.
“Oh – right.” Hastily, you pulled this across your chest. “Thanks.”
Silence fell as you did, the awkwardness increasing with each passing second. Usually, you were better about things like car safety, but everything about this moment felt surreal. Jimin had given you his number barely twenty-four hours prior – you highly doubted this was what he had in mind when he said he’d call.
“I’m sorry,” you blurted, unsure what to do.
Jimin’s lips twitched. “It’s fine, Y/N.”
Glancing his way, you found Jimin’s profile dimly lit by the streetlights. He sat spread-legged in the driver’s seat; one hand placed casually on the shift. When he caught you looking, Jimin arched a brow and shifted the car into drive.
Pulling from the curb, he merged into traffic headed away from the club. As the bright lights of Excelsior disappeared into the rearview mirror, the cars on the road became few and far between. You drove in silence, city lights striping Jimin’s profile in black and white.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “Is everything okay?” Jimin asked, too casual to be normal.
It took you a moment to answer.
Usually, you would’ve responded yes even if it weren’t the case, since no one truly wanted to hear about your problems. Asking someone how are you? in the city was the same as a nod hello. It wasn’t genuine interest in another person’s well-being.
Tonight though, your usual responses caught in your throat. Tonight, you felt tired, frayed and dangerously thin at the seams.
Everything was not okay, and you weren’t sure how to say otherwise. Your usual walls had been torn, leaving you with this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your fight with Finn had been a big one, even worse than the argument a few weeks ago.
Still, Jimin was a newer friend to you – if you could even call him that. It wasn’t fair to unload all your problems on him. Especially at such a late hour and especially not when he was the one doing you a favor.
“Yeah,” you said at last. “Everything’s fine.”
Jimin paused, as though he knew this to be bullshit.
“Let me rephrase,” he said, shifting in his seat. “Anyone’s ass I should kick?”
You laughed a little, surprised by his threat. “No, no,” you said, shaking your head. “Nothing like that.”
“Good.” Jimin’s smile faded. “So, what happened then? How’d you get stranded?”
He didn’t ask why you called him, but the implication was clear in his voice. Honestly, it was a question you had no good answer to. All you knew was when you were standing on the curb, staring at your phone and wondering who to call, Jimin was one of the first people to pop into your mind.
“I was out with my boyfriend,” you sighed. “I said I’d go to the club with him and his friends, but it got late and we have class tomorrow, so I told Finn I wanted to leave. He… didn’t.” Pausing, you swallowed. “I ended up leaving, but I didn’t realize the trains had stopped running. Uber surcharge was ridiculous, too.”
“Oh.” Jimin’s grip on the wheel tightened.
“Anyways.” You slouched lower in his seat. “You’re the only person I know with a car, so…”
“Ah. Right.”
Curious, you glanced sideways. Although Jimin was responding in one-word answers, they seemed somehow loaded, as though they contained hidden meaning. Even his profile seemed cautious, full of a tension you couldn’t quite place.
Jimin frowned. “Your boyfriend just… let you leave like that?”
“He didn’t let me,” you said as you straightened. “I can make my own decisions, Park.”
“I know, I just…”
“You just what, Park? Spit it out.”
“I don’t know.” Jimin shrugged. “It just seems kind of cold. That’s all.”
“Yeah, well.” Truth be told, it seemed cold to you, too. “I’m not exactly… thrilled with the situation, either. He turned off his phone,” you muttered, turning to face the window.
In the reflection, you saw Jimin grimace.
“Sorry,” he said quietly.
“What for?”
“That just sucks, that’s all.”
“Yeah. It does suck.”
Jimin made an indiscernible noise of agreement before lapsing into silence.
It was strange to be in a car with him at this late an hour; oddly intimate for a multitude of reasons you pushed aside.
The last time you’d seen Jimin dressed so casually had been when you walked in on him with Sabrina. It had been nearly a month since then, but you hadn’t heard any gossip of them being together on campus.
Maybe this was something you could’ve asked Jimin, but it wasn’t like you had that type of relationship. Sure, you were ballet partners and sure, you’d been getting along lately, but you didn’t usually interact outside of class. Yet another line you’d crossed by calling Jimin tonight.
Thus far, you’d mostly managed to keep Finn and Russet separate. Noelle had met Finn a couple of times – you’d gone to dinner once and gotten coffee together another time, but otherwise, nothing. Finn wouldn’t have wanted to come to one of your Grace Hall rom-com marathons or take a pilates class on Sunday morning.
Mixing personal life and dance felt strange to you, as though two separate halves of yourself were colliding. It was odd to see Jimin outside of Russet’s walls. He seemed more at ease in his car, like the lines of him had blurred more from dancer to person.
Something about the nighttime made things seem fuzzier. Tired from the day and just beginning to thaw from the cold, you found your lips and mind looser than usual.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Jimin said, interrupting the silence. “But I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend.”
With a humorless sort of laugh, you turned to face him. “Yeah, well. I do.”
“Huh.”
Hearing his skepticism, you insisted, “I do!”
“I believe you!” Jimin chuckled. He paused. “Is it new, then? I don’t remember anyone coming to watch your dance competitions in high school.”
Warmth spread through your body, realizing Jimin must’ve kept tabs. He’d watched you at dance competitions. He knew your usual crowd of supporters.
“Finn isn’t new,” you said slowly. “He just didn’t come to a lot of competitions. They got repetitive, you know? Lots of waiting around for three minutes of watching me dance.”
“I guess.” Jimin shrugged. “I used to go to my ex’s tennis tournaments all the time, though. That was the same thing, except no AC.”
“Right,” you laughed. “You’re right, at least our competitions had air conditioning.”
Jimin turned on his blinker to switch lanes. Pulling onto a side street, he glanced in the rearview mirror. Another moment passed, and then –
“We broke up before college.”
Surprised, you glanced in his direction. “Oh. Okay.”
You stared at his profile, wondering if you were supposed to say something more. You could think of many questions to ask, but they didn’t seem appropriate coming from you. You hadn’t realized Jimin was dating someone in high school – although, come to think of it, you did seem to remember a blonde girl cheering for him in the audience at Applause Dance Competition.
“It seemed like time,” Jimin continued quietly. “She went to a school across the country and we just never assumed we’d stay together. That sounds bad,” he said with a half-laugh. “I kind of figured though, if we were meant to be, we’d figure it out. The fact that we didn’t try spoke volumes.”
“That makes sense. Honestly,” you said with a sigh. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if me and Finn had been long distance.”
As soon as the words left your lips, you blinked. The statement hung before you in mid-air, forcing you to consider it for the first time.
This wasn’t something you’d allowed yourself to imagine before; what would’ve happened if you’d gone to a different school. Going to college so close to Finn had just seemed like a sign. You didn’t have the college break-up talk because you’d simply assumed you didn’t need to.
“Yeah.” Jimin sighed. “It’s hard, right? Everything is changing so quickly. You want things to stay the same, but isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Change. Grow. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Everyone keeps telling me change isn’t a bad thing.”
“Sure seems like it, sometimes,” you said softly.
Jimin nodded. After a moment, he reached out for the stereo. A familiar song filled his car and something uncertain unfurled in your stomach. You weren’t sure what you were even talking about anymore – change was a dangerous topic without Finn around.
When the chorus of the song kicked in, you smiled.
“I love this song,” you said, turning to Jimin. “I almost choreographed my solo to it senior year.”
“Really?” Jimin glanced at you in surprise. “Same.”
“No way!” you laughed. “Wow – that would’ve been awkward. Imagine if we’d both had the same solo.”
“It would’ve made us even more competitive.”
“Not possible.”
“You’re probably right.” Jimin smiled. “We were really at each other’s throats for a while, weren’t we?”
“Yeah, we were.”
Settling back in your seat, you couldn’t help but frown.
Something about this statement bothered you, although you couldn’t put a finger on what. Maybe it was what Jimin had said yesterday about your mutual competition pushing each other forward. Maybe it had something to do with that night in Danley Hall, when Jimin stopped by and said he loved watching you dance.
If you really stopped and thought about it, Jimin was the sole constant in your dancing career. Every year, at every dance competition, you’d make sure you were available to watch Jimin’s solo. You told yourself this was because he was your competition but really, you just loved watching him dance.
You could remember the cool air of the theatre as you snuck in, sinking into a plush, velvet chair and hoping you wouldn’t be seen. You’d loved watching Jimin near the front, close enough to see his facial expressions but not close enough to be seen from the stage.
If your solos were close to one another in timing, you tended to watch Jimin from the wings. This had been a different kind of intimacy, hidden behind the first leg while you watched him dance. Lights dim, you recalled Jimin’s silhouette while he would walk to center. The opening notes of his music would sound, and you’d stifle a shiver while you watched him, entranced.
As it turned out, Jimin had been watching your solos as well, but you hadn’t known this for some time. Not until he’d told you the other night.
Suddenly, you turned in your seat. “You know I think you’re talented, right?” you blurted. “There was a reason I was always trying to beat you.”
Jimin’s brows shot up so high, they nearly met his hairline.
“I – uh, no,” he said. “You’ve never said that to me before. In fact, you kind of said the opposite. You told me the only reason I won was because I’m a guy.”
Hearing your words thrown back in your face, heat began to creep up your neck.
“Listen, about that –”
“I’m kidding.” Jimin shot you a smile. “It’s fine, Y/N.”
“I – okay.”
“Look, I know men have an advantage in the dance world.” Returning his gaze to the road, Jimin’s smile disappeared. “I’m not dumb. I know we have higher centers of gravity, and all that. It’s just… you’re also talented, Y/N. People love to watch you dance, myself included. Don’t sell yourself short.”
Staring at him over the console, you felt oddly moved by this speech.
It was strange; many people in your life had called you talented. Your parents, your teachers and Finn, of course. Each of those compliments had meant something to you, but this one felt different. It felt different coming from Jimin – more important, somehow.
Maybe it was because you admired him most of all. The realization didn’t shock you as much as it probably should’ve.
“Thanks,” you said quietly.
Jimin nodded, continuing to scan the road. His car was clean, you realized as you glanced around. There were no water bottles on the floor, no napkins hastily stuffed into the glove compartment. The only sign of being lived-in was a keychain dangling over the dashboard; a small, plastic photo frame with two people inside.
“My parents,” Jimin explained, noticing where you looked.
“Oh,” you said, bending a bit closer. “They look nice.”
He laughed, unable to help it. “I’ve always thought so. My dad is the one who encouraged me to be a dancer, actually.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Fondly, Jimin smiled. “He’s always loved music. When I was a baby, he loved to hold me and jump around the living room to songs on the radio. My mom has tons of videos of it.”
You smiled at the image. “That sounds adorable.”
“And embarrassing. My dad’s not that great a dancer.”
Without meaning to, you snorted.
Hearing this, Jimin’s smile widened. “When I started memorizing all the dances I saw on TV, my dad convinced my mom to put me in classes. Things kind of spiraled from there.”
“That’s nice,” you said, settling down in his seat. “My parents have always been my biggest supporters, too.”
Jimin nodded, about to respond but then a blast of AC hit you and you shivered. You’d nearly forgotten what you were wearing – or more accurately, what you weren’t wearing. The thin tank top you had on did little to hide the bare skin underneath.
Jimin’s gaze darted sideways. “Are you cold?” he asked, reaching out for the heat. “You can have my hoodie in the backseat, if you want.”
“Oh. No, that’s okay.” Hastily, you untied your cardigan from around your waist. “I have this,” you said, sliding both arms into the sleeves. “Completely forgot about it.”
Silently, Jimin nodded – and then his lips twitched.
“What?” you demanded.
“Nothing!” He shook his head, fighting to keep his face even. “It’s just… you wore a cardigan out to the club?”
Glancing down, you felt your cheeks begin to heat again. “Yes,” you said, somewhat defensive as you looked up. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing. It’s just, you know.” He paused. “My grandma has that sweater.”
“Well, your grandma sounds like a cool lady.”
“Without a doubt,” Jimin assured. “Not much of a clubber, though.”
Leaning your head to the window, you smiled. “That makes two of us then.”
You knew the city well enough by now to recognize you were only a few blocks from Grace Hall. Somehow, you found yourself not wanting the car ride to end. Talking to Jimin outside of dance practice was nice – even fun, you realized with some surprise.
It was a shame it’d taken you so long to recognize this.
“Seriously, though.” Jimin laughed. “Clubs can be a good time! There’s dancing, there’s music… rumor has it you like dancing.”
“Not that kind of dancing,” you sighed. “That kind of dancing is just a dry version of a lap dance for people who don’t know what to do with their hips.”
Jimin hid behind a smile. “Ouch, on behalf of your boyfriend.”
“Oh!” Straightening, you glanced at him in alarm. “That’s not – I didn’t mean…”
Stricken, you realized the obviousness of what you had said. Forget about your face heating, your entire body felt like an inferno. You had just told Jimin, in so many words, that Finn didn’t know what to do with his hips.
Jimin waved this admission aside. “Don’t worry about it, Y/N. I’ll forget what I heard the instant I get home. Up until tonight, I didn’t know the guy existed, right?”
“Right,” you agreed, settling back in your seat.
Rather than reassure you, this only gave you further pause.
It didn’t seem possible Jimin hadn’t known about Finn. Racking your brains, you tried to think of a time they would’ve crossed paths – only to come up short. Finn hadn’t ever stopped by the studio to pick you up, he hadn’t ever come to mutual hangouts with your Russet friends. Admittedly, Jimin had only recently started attending the same ones as you, but it still seemed unthinkable.
You and Finn had been dating for over two years. Finn’s name should have come up at some point and yet, it hadn’t.
Before you could respond, Jimin pulled to a stop outside your dorm. Glancing over the console, he smiled and again, you were struck by the image.
With his grey sweats, mussed hair and those glasses – you swallowed. It was a side of Jimin you hadn’t seen and something about the visual made your stomach lurch. Before you could launch into full-blown panic, Jimin raised a brow.
“Here you are,” he said with a grandiose wave. “Home sweet home.”
Glancing past him, you took in the steps of Grace Hall.
“Thanks,” you said, pushing open the door. Before exiting the car, you paused and looking over your shoulder. “Seriously, Jimin, thank you. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten home without you.”
In the darkness, you saw his expression soften.
“Anytime,” Jimin said.
You could tell he meant it. There was something to his gaze which made you nod. Jimin wasn’t the type to mince words or say things he didn’t mean. Just like when he said he loved your dancing, you knew Jimin was telling the truth. When he said anytime, he meant it.
Nodding, you resumed exiting the car. Waving goodbye, you stood on the curb until he was out of sight.
Once Jimin disappeared, you sighed and turned towards the building. Grace Hall was silent this late at night – it was nearly 2:00 AM and again, you were thankful Jimin had answered his phone. As you let yourself in and climbed the steps to your room, your thoughts began to race with all the what-ifs.
What-if Jimin hadn’t answered, what-if you’d had to walk home alone, or walk to find a cab. Pressing your eyes shut, you shooed these thoughts away. None of that had actually happened, so it wasn’t worth worrying about.
As soon as you got upstairs, you stepped in the shower – the stickiness of that girl’s drink continued to linger on your skin. After changing into fresh pajamas and brushing your teeth, you wearily climbed into bed. The last thing you did before falling asleep was call Finn again in case he’d returned home.
His phone went straight to voicemail though and, with a sinking stomach, you rolled over in bed and turned off the light.
After sleeping until the last possible moment, you managed to roll yourself out of bed around seven the next morning. This only left fifteen minutes before you needed to leave and even then, you felt like a zombie as you rushed out the door.
Grabbing coffee at the place down the street, you and Noelle entered class with barely ten minutes to spare. Jimin was already present but he was talking to Louis, so you stuck to your side and didn’t interrupt. You wanted to thank him again for his help, but all this flew out the window when a familiar woman followed Mr. Vlad into the classroom.
“Class.” Mr. Vlad set his things down by the window. “You remember Anna Hodelle, I presume – principal dancer at the New York City Ballet. She’s in town for a different master class and has graciously agreed to lead ballet this morning.”
The news was simultaneously exciting and nerve-wracking. Anna had taught a master class several weeks prior which left you sore for days following. Her classes were exciting though, and she was Anna Hodelle, one of the youngest principal dancers for the New York City Ballet in at least forty years – so there was that.
Her introduction didn’t require any response. Scrambling into place at the barre, the class waited while Anna shed her warm-ups and Mr. Vlad left the room. As soon as the music began, you found yourself grateful you hadn’t drunk the night prior.
Similar to her last master class, you found Miss Anna relentless in her pursuit of perfection. Her expectations were high and as a result, everyone gave their best effort – and then some. By the time you broke for water, no less than three students had already run for the bathroom.
It wasn’t pretty, but vomiting was something which happened with dance. Class could be such a grueling workout that occasionally, younger students pushed themselves past their limits. If you ate a big meal before practice, it was increasingly likely you might throw it up after.
You could count on two hands the number of times this had happened to you in high school. There had been some days you practiced so hard, sweat ran down your forehead and blinded your vision. On other days, the floor was so slippery, your bare feet couldn’t grasp the floorboards. Dance, despite being hailed for grace and glamour, tended to be exactly the opposite.
One of your teachers used to say you weren’t using your muscles if they weren’t shaking by the end. Ballerinas were seen as delicate, but this couldn’t be further from the truth. Ballet only looked effortless – this was a carefully cultivated image for the audience. At all times, all muscles in a ballerina’s body were engaged, yet even when sweat dripped down her brow, she had to smile.
You’d seen dancers finish their combination, give a sweeping bow, walk gracefully offstage and vomit into the nearest trash can. Everything was for show, everything was for the audience – one of your favorite parts about dance was knowing the brutal behind-the-scenes effort everything took. It made you appreciate the final product all the more.
By the end of class you were exhausted but happy, wiping sweat from your brow while you applauded the teacher. After Anna’s dismissal, you immediately exhaled and trudged towards your bag. Noelle chattered on about a TV show you were watching, reminding you to catch up before Monday.
As you picked up your bag, you felt its front pocket vibrate. Fishing inside for your phone, you pulled this out and felt your eyes widen.
Five missed calls and eight missed texts. Once you opened your phone, you saw they were all from Finn.
Finn: hey [8:18 AM]
Finn: Y/N, I’m so sorry [8:19 AM]
Finn: I don’t know if you’re ignoring me because you’re angry, or if you’re in class right now [8:25 AM]
Finn: you’re probably in class [8:30 AM]
Finn: if you’re not though, please call me back [8:31 AM]
Finn: fuck [9:01 AM]
Finn: I was such an ass last night, Y/N. I’m sorry [9:03 AM]
Finn: … please call me [9:35 AM]
With each text you read, you felt your heart sink. Up until this point, you’d gotten through class by pretending last night hadn’t happened. Now though, you were forced to remember every detail of the night prior.
Finn had left you at the club.
He’d stormed away from your fight, turned off his phone and left you alone. Each time you remembered the night, your fury only grew. This morning when you woke, you’d still been pissed off – even more so, when you turned on your phone and saw zero texts from Finn.
Had your roles been reversed, you never would’ve done the same to him. Sure, it had been a bad fight but who did that? Just took off in the middle of a conversation and shut everything down. The worst part was him turning off his phone. As soon as things didn’t go as planned, Finn simply washed his hands of you.
That was what hurt most of all, the shame burrowing deep into the crevices of your heart.
Beneath everything was a strange twinge of guilt at having called Jimin to pick you up. This was easily brushed aside, though – Finn had left you stranded. If anyone had a right to be mad here, it was you.
“Y/N? You okay?”
Noelle’s voice pulled you from your reverie. Blinking, you lowered your phone and realized you were alone. The rest of the room had cleared out after class – this probably wasn’t the first time Noelle had said your name.
“Shit, sorry!” Hastily, you shoved your phone in your bag. “Yeah… yeah, everything’s fine.”
Noelle gave you a look. “Really?”
After a moment, you sighed. “No,” you said, turning to walk towards the door. “Why pretend? It’s Finn.”
Following you from the classroom, Noelle fell into step alongside you.
“He’s not hurt, is he?” she said carefully.
“Unfortunately, not.”
Noelle snorted. “Okay, so he’s in the doghouse.”
“Yep.”
“Want to talk about it?”
At the top of the stairs, you paused. “Finn and I got in a fight last night,” you admitted. “He wanted to stay at the club, and I wanted to go home – so he told me to leave. I did, but then I realized I had no way to get there.”
Noelle’s mouth dropped. “Are you fucking kidding me? He just… left you there? Wow. The next time I see your ‘boyfriend,’ I’m going to – wait,” she said, pulling up short. “How did you get home, then?”
“I – uh, well… Jimin picked me up.”
Noelle stared at you a moment longer. “Huh. Didn’t expect that.”
“Neither did I,” you said, beginning to walk down the stairs. “Finn turned his cell phone off, so I couldn’t get ahold of him and by then, the trains stopped running. Uber was surging and Jimin is the only person I know with a car, so…”
“Ah, gotcha. That makes sense.” Noelle nodded. “Nice of him to come get you.”
“Yeah, it was nice. Anyways, Finn’s been texting me all morning.”
“Oh!” Noelle groaned. “That was your phone! I kept hearing something vibrating while I was waiting to go across the floor.”
“Yep, that was him,” you said glumly. “Apparently he’s sorry.”
“Of course, he is.”
“He said he was an ass last night.”
“Of course, he did.”
“… I’m still pissed at him.”
“Of course, you are!” Noelle cried, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Listen, tell him you got home alright – not that he deserves that much, mind you – but you need some time to cool off. He can wait until you’re ready to talk, right?”
Nodding, you saw sense in what she was saying. “You’re right.”
Despite Noelle making sense though, part of you didn’t want to wait.
Part of you wanted to call Finn back right now and give him a piece of your mind, but you knew if you did that, things wouldn’t end well. He deserved to be cussed out, but you were completely exhausted. The idea of fighting with your boyfriend left you feeling drained.
Noelle was right – Finn could wait until you were ready to talk, whenever that was.
Pulling out your phone a second time, you texted Finn you were safe and that you’d talk when you were ready. Once he responded okay, you shoved your phone in your pocket.
Noelle looked sympathetically on. “Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” she said, arm back around your shoulder. “We can invite Irene and Ari and just watch dumb movies and eat brownie batter in fancy lingerie. You know, like every guy’s sleepover porn fantasy.”
You couldn’t help it, you laughed. “Sounds like a plan,” you said with a grin. “God, what would I do without you?”
“Be super bored, probably.”
You snorted, but the thought stuck in your mind as you left the building. It really would be awful without Noelle by your side. Without meaning to, your thoughts strayed to Sabrina. Aside from Katie and Allison, you had no idea who she hung out with.
It had to be lonely for someone like her. Russet was intense enough without a support system. You quickly pushed these feelings aside – even if Sabrina was lonely, she had no one to blame but herself. You’d offered the olive branch enough times by now to know when to stop.
“I guess only one question remains,” you said slowly.
Noelle glanced your way. “Oh, yeah? What?”
“How dumb are the dumb movies we’re watching? Like, From Justin to Kelly dumb – where it’s a guilty pleasure? Or, more like The Kissing Booth dumb – where things are just bad dumb.”
“Why choose?” Noelle shrugged. “Let’s do both!”
“Deal!”
As you climbed the steps to Grace Hall, you continued to ignore Finn’s texts in your bag. He could wait until tomorrow, at least. After what he put you through, a single night of not knowing what you were thinking seemed appropriate.
When you finally gave in and called Finn the next day, you weren’t sure what you were hoping for. Finn had already texted his apology, so at least he knew he’d been in the wrong. As to what degree he was aware, you didn’t know, but you got a fairly good idea once he picked up the phone.
Short answer: very wrong.
“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Finn blurted, as though afraid you might cut him off. “I was such an ass to you Friday night. I – I don’t even know what to say. I don’t even know where to start. I fucked up so bad, Y/N and I’m sorry.”
Silence followed this outburst as you frowned, leaning back on the bed.
Noelle had graciously left the room to study at the coffee shop on the corner. Secretly, you knew this was mostly to flirt with the barista, Namjoon, but you couldn’t begrudge her for that. Namjoon did have the most adorable dimples you’d ever seen.
Focusing your thoughts on Finn, you played with a stray thread of your sheets. “I mean… that’s a good start, I guess,” you muttered. “But what are you really sorry for, Finn?”
His sigh was soft. “Everything.”
“Specifics would be good.”
“I was drunk,” he exhaled. “That’s not an excuse, but… I honestly don’t remember everything that I said to you. I remember the gist of it though, and I know it was terrible. I know you didn’t deserve it.”
You remained silent, even though you agreed with him.
“I wanted to stay out,” he continued. “That doesn’t really matter, though. I was a dick. I was stubborn and angry, and I took that out on you. You’re the last person I would ever want to hurt, and I just… I left you. Something could’ve happened to you. God, if something had happened, Y/N…”
Finn trailed off and you heard his voice crack but forced yourself to stay silent. Hearing him break was hard, but you reminded yourself what you’d felt Friday night – all the anger and terror when he completely disappeared.
This memory hardened you enough not to melt at his apology.
“Yeah, well,” you said tightly. “You’re right – something could’ve happened. The trains weren’t running and Uber was crazy expensive. I couldn’t get back in the club. I ended up waiting outside for nearly twenty minutes before someone came to pick me up.”
“Fuck.” Finn sounded strangled. “Fuck… Y/N, I’m sorry…”
In your mind, you envisioned him shoving a hand through his hair. Finn did that when he was stressed or upset and right now, he sounded a little of both.
“Yeah.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Who picked you up?”
Immediately, you stiffened. “Do you seriously think you deserve an answer to that?”
“No, no, I – you’re right, it doesn’t matter. Thank them for me, okay?”
You remained silent and again, Finn sighed.
“Are you… are we going to be okay?”
It was a loaded question. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head to the wall. In all honesty, you didn’t know the answer to that.
On the one hand, you loved Finn. That hadn’t changed. On the other hand, it was becoming more and more apparent your problems weren’t going away. It would be foolish to pretend otherwise – but all couples had problems, didn’t they?
In the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think a break-up should be more obvious than this. A break-up should be something big, something irreversible. You were beginning to wonder though, at what point were problems considered insurmountable. Everything about this seemed grey and right now, you really needed black and white answers.
Both your lives were changing, as Jimin had said. Freshman year was a cacophony of change; in order to succeed, you and Finn needed to learn to grow with each other. Hiccups were to be expected, bumps in the road were to be expected, but if you wanted to stay together, you needed to learn how to fight for this relationship.
“I think so,” you said, opening your eyes. “I think we’ll be okay. I just… Finn, you really hurt me that night.”
“I know.”
“It can’t happen again.”
“It won’t.”
“You know… I want to spend time with you, right?”
“I… do.”
He paused for longer than you would’ve liked, but you brushed past it. “I know you like going to clubs and all that,” you said. “But that’s not really me. Maybe next time we can do something different. Something a little more low-key.”
“Yeah.” Finn chuckled. “That sounds nice, honestly.”
“Good.”
“At least my friends really liked you.”
Taken aback, you snorted. “Oh, come on, Finn. I was barely there.”
“I’m being serious! Ben told me he thinks you’re funny.”
“Ben,” you groaned. “Has all the humor of a wet sock.”
Finn laughed and this time, it sounded like him. His laugh had been watery before, a restrained version but now, his true mirth broke free. As soon as the sound hit your ears, you began to relax. Truthfully, you hadn’t been sure things would be okay until then. Hearing him laugh, you knew Finn meant it. He wanted this, too.
“You’re right,” he agreed. “Ben sucks, but at least he has the taste to know that you don’t. Next time, we’ll do something more fun.”
“Next time,” you agreed.
“Next time.”
Despite your conversation having gone as well as it possibly could’ve, uncertainty continued to linger in the back of your mind.
You spent Sunday evening watching TV, but still slept restlessly before your class the next morning. Mr. Vlad’s ballet was definitely not one you wanted to arrive at ill-rested, but Monday you showed up with bags under your eyes.
You tried to push all negative thoughts from mind while warming up at the barre. By the time class broke for water, you were feeling marginally better. Ballet was soothing that way. The repetitiveness of barre helped to put things in perspective. Your ankle had almost completely healed by this point and now, two weeks after the fall, your technique had finally begun to improve.
No longer were you the last one to catch onto combinations and Mr. Vlad only yelled once about your turnout at barre. This was a marked improvement from the start of the year and although you still were far from the top, you felt relatively good about your standing. You had a feeling once you and Jimin began to practice, the moves would come even easier.
The first combination at center was a slow adagio. It wasn’t particularly difficult aside from a lift in the middle, but despite the familiarity of the moves, Jimin was being oddly hesitant.
Mr. Vlad showed the combination with his dance assistant, Mina. After they demonstrated a particularly difficult lift, they gave everyone time to practice – which, in your and Jimin’s case, turned out to be necessary.
“Ladies, pique to arabesque!” Mr. Vlad called from the front. “Lift your leg higher and – the man lifts! He walks you in a promenade. Then you’re lowered, exhale – and bourrée!”
Brian immediately raised his hand for help, so Mr. Vlad left to assist in his corner. The lift was proving itself to be tricky – it required most of your weight balanced against Jimin’s side while he gripped your thigh, lifting you up.
You and Jimin began to practice, but no matter what you did, nothing seemed to be working. After the fourth failed attempt where Jimin nearly dropped you on your ass, you shakily landed and whirled around.
“Alright,” you said, both hands on your hips. “What’s going on?”
Jimin’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, how’re you supposed to lift me if you’re barely touching me? Look at Sabrina and Paulo!” you said, gesturing in their direction. “He’s got his whole fucking hand under her leg!”
Jimin’s cheeks turned red. “I – uh, right. Yeah. Let’s try it again.”
Staring at him another moment, you nodded and returned to your spot. Jimin settled into fifth position, jaw clenched and looking as though he were in pain. You stared at him in the mirror, considering calling him out before thinking better of it.
Taking a deep breath, you piqued into arabesque. Leaning your weight to Jimin, he reached again for your thigh – only to falter, leaving you hanging.
“Jimin!” you half-laughed as you slipped down his leg.
“I’m sorry!” Jimin blurted, stepping away. Looking thoroughly distraught, he shoved both hands through his hair. “It’s just… well, I…”
“It’s just what?”
“You have a boyfriend,” he said, a bit pained.
In response to this, both your eyebrows shot up. That had not been the answer you’d expected.
“I… okay?” you said, failing to grasp the point. “So what?”
“So.” Jimin glanced furtively around. “I don’t know, it’s just weird! I don’t want to… overstep my boundaries, or anything.”
“But…” You stared. “I had a boyfriend last week and it wasn’t a problem.”
“Okay, but last week I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”
Again, you looked at him as though he was crazy.
“This is stupid,” you said, stepping closer. “Ballet is our job, Jimin. It’s the least sexy occupation on the planet. Right now, I’m bleeding from three different blisters inside my pointe shoes. I’m sure my deodorant has long worn off by now. Would you just fucking get over yourself and grab my thigh?”
Jimin’s upper lip twitched. “Well. When you put it like that.”
“I am putting it like that,” you said with a grin. “Now, let’s go again.”
Nodding, Jimin followed when you walked backwards. Taking another deep breath, you piqued to arabesque and this time, Jimin didn’t flinch when your weight transitioned to his. Hand sliding beneath your thigh, he lifted you easily into a promenade.
As soon as you turned your head, you caught Jimin’s gaze and felt – something.
Something other than the white noise of the room. Something other than the thud-thud of your heart, other than the music on the stereo and Mr. Vlad yelling counts from the corner.
Despite what you had just finished saying, something unknown seemed to bloom in your chest. In the middle of the lift – blood blisters and all – you felt an errant spark where Jimin’s front pressed to yours.
You barely had time to recognize this before the moment was gone. Slowing his walk, Jimin set you back down – and you wobbled.
This time it had nothing to do with his technique.
“Ah, shit.” Jimin frowned. “That’s my bad – I can do better! Let’s try it again.”
Nodding, you felt a bit wooden as you followed in his footsteps. When Mr. Vlad started the music, you fought the surging tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm. It had been nothing, you told yourself. Nothing of importance, anyways.
Shoving whatever you’d felt in a box, you pushed this to a corner of your mind and firmly shut the door. Forcing a smile to your lips, you lifted your chin as you began the combination.
It was lucky everyone else found you a talented performer, since beneath all your smiling, all you could think about was what was hidden in the box.
Something unknown, something tentative – and something which could be dangerous, if it ever came to light.
Author’s Note: I was so close to re-writing this chapter with Mr. Vlad picking her up LOL just kidding, but thank you for reading! 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre are posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.
RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST
© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.
#bangtanarmynet#btsbookclub#jimin fanfic#bts fanfic#jimin writing#bts writing#jimin au#jimin series#bts au#bts series#jimin dance au#bts dance au#jimin e2l#bts e2l
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Blackwater Lake - Chapter 1

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.
Characters: Werewolf!Captain Syverson, Werewolf!Female Reader, Vampire!Walter Marshall.
Warnings (for this chapter, all small mentions but warning just in case): Breastfeeding, Accidental Cutting Injury/Blood loss, blood transfusions. This chapter contains no sex scenes or scenes of a sexual nature.
A continuation of previous Werewolf!Sy stories Moonlight on the Sand and Castle Under The Stars. This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters.
I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.
Blackwater Lake - Chapter 1
The late spring day brought pleasant scents and mouth watering flavours, Blackwater Lake’s town May day parade in full flow as you held two month old Luna in her carrier to your chest, turning to smile at your husband Sy as he balanced Mikey on his shoulders so your son could watch the floats whilst they slowly cruised past. You knew he would be most excited about the Fire Department bringing their trucks past. At the first whoop of the siren Mikey squealed with joy, the ice cream cone in his hand tipping slightly and setting a blob of blue bubblegum flavour gelato into Sy’s cheek;
“Hey, no wriggles! Its raining ice cream down here”
Pausing the consumption of your own cone you handed it to Sy as you reached into your bag and found a baby wipe, moving to wipe his cheek before stretching to wipe your son’s face. Finding a trash can to toss the wipe into, you smiled as you watched your two boys as they waved to the Fire Trucks, the crew making sure to honk their horns when they saw Sy.
Everyone in town loved Sy. You’d moved there together when you’d found out you were pregnant with Mikey, your army days behind you and wanting to seek somewhere quiet where you could live in the woods to allow for full moon runs whilst being close enough to civilisation to raise a family. The aging receptionist at the realtor had pulled you aside the second you’d arrived in their office when you’d visited the town, recognising one of her own as her nostrils had flared and she’d explained that there were ‘all sorts’ in the town. That was your first meeting with Edith, and you’d gone on to move in just up the mountain from her. Once Sy had finished in the Army and baby number two was on the way, he’d started working alongside retired detective Walter at his construction company where they specialised in commercial buildings. They were always on call for when businesses had emergencies, so had come to the aid of half the town after storms and accidents.
As the parade dragged on Luna woke, grumbling for a change and a feed. The two boys were transfixed with the parade and you’d lost your ice cream cone to Sy who was now mindlessly munching away on it. Tugging on his sleeve you caught his attention;
“Luna’s woken up, i’m gonna take her into Sue’s Coffee Shop to change her and give her a feed”
“Sure thing Darlin, we’ll come find you in a bit”
-
The coffee shop was quiet, its doors opened onto the sidewalk and as the radio played soft rock music, just one or two tables taken outside but the inside empty. Sue - the owner - smiled at you as you walked in;
“Hey Sue!”
“Hey there! What can I get'cha?”
“Can i get a decaf iced latte? I just need to change Luna if that’s ok?”
“Of course, no need to ask, the restroom is empty”
A couple of minutes later your little girl had a clean butt but was still grizzling, now hungry for your milk. Sue had set your drink onto a table in the corner, a soft window seat she knew you liked to sit at to feed. Settling in you pulled your cami top down and unhooked the strap of your nursing bra, helping Luna to latch on as she cried before a blissful quiet descended over you as she happily suckled on your breast. In the quiet of the coffee shop you reached for your drink and sipped on it, smiling down at your beautiful daughter as she gazed up at you;
“Hey there my little Luna, better now? Is that the good stuff? Yeah? Well that’s what your Daddy says it is…” you said with a whisper and a smirk.
“Hey”
The sudden greeting made you jump, looking up to see Walter standing near your table;
“Oh, Hi Walter”
“Sorry…” he glanced away, averting his eyes from where you were feeding; “I just asked if you wanted anything?”
“Oh no, i’m fine, i’ve got a coffee… but you’re welcome to join me if you like? Sy and Mikey will be along once the Parade’s over”
Nodding once the quiet man went to order before returning with what looked like a quad espresso but faltering when it came to taking a seat;
“Where did you want me to sit?”
“Oh anywhere you like” you shifted Luna as she had finished on one breast, hooking that side up before shifting and moving her to the other breast. You’d mastered the art of switching breasts without revealing anything, the baby's head blocking any view of a nipple, and you were a vehement supporter of breast feeding - in fact any feeding - and had been known to get into loud shouting matches with anyone that told you to cover up something that was completely natural.
“I mean, i don’t want Sy to think i’m here oggling his wife’s tits”
Laughing, you kicked out a soft chair with your foot;
“This is fairly low, take this one and here…” you moved the upright menu on the table in front of Luna’s head, knowing that she would now be shielded from view and with your breast, and saving Walter’s embarrassment.
Just as Walter sat down Sue brough over his sandwich, the scent of it hitting your nostrils and making your stomach audibly growl;
“Oh wow, what is that?”
“A steak wrap with chimichurri sauce” he lifted one half and offered it to you, but you shook your head.
“Thanks, but that’s just a little too rare for me… looks like a good veterinarian could bring it back to life”
Walter laughed as you called out to Sue, ordering one of the same.
“You want yours still mooing too?”
“Medium, please” you laughed as she nodded and walked away.
As she cooked your meal you turned back to Walter. You’d had a few conversations with him over the 11 months he and Sy had worked together, but knew very little about him apart from his reputation of being quiet and surly, generally sleep deprived and a little pale most of the time. He’d been medically retired from the Police Department after an accident where he’d lost a lot of blood and had never fully recovered.
As Luna happily fed and Walter devoured his sandwich you sipped on your drink, watching with curiosity as the man ate in silence, savouring each bloody bite. When he finally crumpled the napkin onto the plate and sat back he caught you watching him;
“What? Do i have something on my face?”
“No” you laughed softly; “Just watching how quickly you devoured that sandwich. Rachel not feeding you at home?”
Walter’s face dropped;
“She left”
“Oh fuck. I’m sorry Walter, i wouldn’t have said anything if i’d known”
“S’ok. She got fed up with the way i lived my life, but i can’t change who i am”
“True”
Just then Sy and Mikey came running into the coffee shop;
“Hi Darlin! Hi Sue! Hi Walt… be right back, Jnr has a bathroom emergency!”
The two Syverson boys disappeared into the restroom, and you could clearly hear Sy’s voice;
“Point! POINT IT AT THE TOILET! That’s it, stand on your tippy toes… there we go! Got here in time!”
You suppressed a laugh, Walter raising his eyebrows;
“Potty training?”
“Uh-huh… it's been a challenging few weeks to say the least, but Mikey wanted to give it a go”
The sound of the dryer could be heard as Sy and Mikey reappeared, Sy giving you double thumbs up from behind his son who ran to you;
“A perfect aim Darlin, no leaks. Think this deserves a cookie!”
As Mikey squealed with joy you groaned;
“Sy… not more sugar! He’ll be up all night. Mikey, honey, how about some fries?”
“And Eggies?” Mikey asked
“Sure thing honey, get Daddy to ask Sue”
As the afternoon wore on and the boys chatted, you listened as Sy and Walter discussed work stuff, Luna sleeping peacefully in your arms as you ate with Mikey. Finally glancing at your watch you motioned to Sy the time;
“Hun, i’ve gotta go collect our meat order from Walkers Meats”
“Oh yeah, sure. Here…” He opened his wallet and peeled off a bunch of $20’s as he turned to Walter; “She makes the best Steak Tartare… it's unbelievable”
“You make that?” Walter asked
Angling Luna into her carrier sling you adjusted the straps and nodded;
“Sure do! Hey, did you want to join us for dinner?”
“Yeah, join us!” Sy parroted; “And before you say anything, you wouldn’t be intruding”
With a weak smile Walter nodded;
“Sure, that’ll be nice. I gotta go to the lumber yard before though… pick out the stuff for next week's job”
You noticed that Mikey had finished his meal and was looking sleepy, holding your hand out to him he slid off the chair and stood next to you;
“How about I take the kids home, Sy you catch a ride with Walter?”
With everyone happy with the arrangements you made your way along main street to where Sy had parked his enormous truck, helping Mikey into his seat before unlatching Luna and settling her into her carrier. They were both fast asleep by the time you got to the drivers seat.
You managed to park directly outside the door to Walkers Meats, and Freya the weekend girl helpfully brought everything out to you when you called inside that the kids were asleep in the car and you didn’t want to leave them.
-
Dinner had been fun. The two kids were peacefully sleeping as the three adults chatted after the meal, before you finally stood to load the dishwasher and start hand washing the items that couldn’t go in there. Just as you were about to start you heard a cry from the kids, Sy standing;
“It’s Mikey, i’ll go”
As you started to handwash the various knives and delicate glasses, Walter stood at your side to dry items, the two of you talking casually before you let out a cry and pulled your hand from the soapy bowl of water. The dark crimson of your blood flowed from your finger, the knife you’d forgotten you’d put in the sink the cause;
“Fuck… hand me a towel…” you asked Walter, but were surprised when he sucked in a sharp intake of breath and turned, hunching over. Clutching your hand to your chest, you were surprised by his reaction, before he suddenly turned and you let out a shriek.
Sy appeared at the doorway in a panic before rushing to you, wrapping a napkin around your hand before he finally turned to look at Walter;
“What the fuck…”
Walter was pale, paler than usual, but that wasn’t what shocked the pair of you. No, it was the fact his eyes were pure white except for dark pools for his pupils, and as he opened his mouth to speak you saw his fangs;
“It’s… it’s the blood…” he gasped out; “It drives me…”
Sy wrapped his arm around your shoulders, but looked at his friend as he slumped onto the floor, shaking and sobbing;
“Think we need a chat Walt”
-
The three of you sat around the kitchen table, a hefty glass of scotch in front of each of you as Walter spoke;
“So umm yeah… this is why i left the Department. Went into a supposedly abandoned building, but it wasn’t empty. Two what we thought were junkies in there, looked like they were frail and would snap in a keen wind, but they had this strength and speed… They overpowered me, latched onto my neck. Drained my blood, and when the last drop was about to pass their lips one of my officers finally found me and shot them. They bled into me. The EMT’s took me to New Mercy and gave me a massive blood transfusion, and treated me for severe anemia… well guess what, the fangs and fucked up eyes were a surprise a few weeks after i was discharged”
You sat wide eyed and mouth agape, not touching your drink;
“I have so many questions...”
“Okay”
“Garlic. Crosses. Being invited in. Sunlight…”
Walter chuckled;
“Most a load of complete bollocks. Garlic? Well you put some in your steak tartare didn’t you? In fact it helps with the anemia. Crosses? No issue. Being invited in, again that’s just rubbish. Sunlight however… why do you think i’m so pale, huh? Have to wear factor 50 all the damn time otherwise i end up looking like a Maine Lobster at a cookout”
Both you and Sy were transfixed, Walter chatting away but his eyes hadn’t returned to normal and his fangs occasionally caught on his lip as he spoke.
“What ‘bout blood then?” Sy asked
Walter cleared his throat;
“Well, i’ve been making do with cows blood since Rachel left”
“You used to suck her blood?” you asked in a high pitched voice
Again Walter cleared his throat, this time just the faintest hint of a blush crept over his cheeks above his beard;
“Err yeah, about once a month… but she had enough in the end and left”
“I got another question” Sy interjected; “Why are your fangs still out?”
Although he answered Sy, Walter looked directly at you;
“Because she’s bleeding”
You looked down at your hand, puzzled as the wound had now sealed, before it hit you;
“Oh… I should go and sort that out”
Sy caught up quickly, glancing at the back of your dress;
“You’re fine Darlin, Walt caught it in time”
When you returned to the kitchen the two men had knocked back their drinks, Sy pouring another hefty glass for the pair of them. Pouring your drink into Sy’s you smiled at him;
“Luna won’t appreciate it”
Making yourself a herb tea you sat down next to Sy, leaning on his shoulder as you sipped your tea. Walter cleared this throat;
“You two have taken this a lot better than i envisioned anyone would… better than Rachel did…”
You looked up at Sy and smiled, his own grin crossing over his face before he nodded and you both turned to Walter as Sy spoke;
“Oh… we have a bit of understanding of this kinda thing”
With the full moon starting tomorrow night you knew that you could both force your eyes to turn orange, the bright ring of fire in your irises flaming like a pyre, shocking Walter so much he slipped back on his chair and fell to the floor. Greeted by both of you giggling, he pulled himself back up using the table as he righted his chair, knocking back the rest of his glass;
“What… the… FUCK?”
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Toss A Coin to Your Witcher (Part Three)
Henry Cavill x Reader
Words: 4,365
(Part 1, Part 2)
Happy Holidays, Cavillry! I really truly hope that you all had some socially distanced fun! Here’s a little gift from me to everyone. I really hope everyone enjoys this last part to this miniseries as much as I enjoyed writing them!
Warning: I have never written anything even remotely close to smut and this story gets a teeny bit smutty so please be gentle with me.
Please like and reblog or leave some replies if you liked it!
Taglist: @novareign1, @libbymouse, @calwitch, @soldade, @happiness-in-the-dark, @seriouslygoodlookinggents, @wolvesandhoundshowltogether, @zealoushoundrancheclipse, @seanh-boredom, @speakerforthedead0, @rn7rocks, @writingforhenry, @weallhaveadestiny, @suueeeeeee
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“Because. We kissed."
Kissed.
Did you hear him right? Did he just say you kissed? You two kissed? And you didn't remember?
Just the thought of it made you dissolve into fits of uncontrollable laughter.
A valiant effort on his part, truly. He really looked frustrated and confused that you didn't remember. What a brilliant actor.
"Phew!" you brushed the tears from the sides of your eyes and rubbed your nose with the back of your hand
"Right! As if I would ever forget kissing someone like you.” you gestured to him from head to toe, “Specimen.”
“Alright,” he crossed his muscular arms against his equally muscular chest, “I am one hundred and ten percent sure it was you and I’m not about to let you change my mind, madame.”
The challenge was clear in his voice and honestly? It was really hot, his whole stern and smug vibe actually made you forget that you were trying to defend your honour.
How could he just look like that? All tall and handsome and muscular? It threw you off your game. He looked like he was God's favourite.
"Aren’t we going to dinner?" you asked, now openly staring at his eyes
"Oh, god. Of course, you must be starving. I apologise." he dropped his proud stance and immediately grabbed your coat from the rack
Henry graciously helped you put it on, his arms lingered around you just a tad bit longer than needed but it was all very good.
Something must have caught his eye as he stepped away from you. He gave you a small smile and made a move to lean in.
Oh, was this happening now?
Okay, sure. What the hell right? Since he claims to have already kissed you before maybe he needed to be reminded.
You could do that. You knew how to kiss, you’ve kissed people before.
As he leaned in, the smell of his cologne invaded your senses. It was musky but also floral. Combined with his naturally clean, fresh scent, you could just picture yourself on a leisurely stroll with him in a field somewhere, the pristine air carrying the scent of earthy wood and spring flowers all around you. Henry would be gazing at you adoringly and he’d be in a soaked white shirt even though it was a sunny day.
Armed with that picture in your mind, nothing could go wrong. You were definitely feeling it.
You tilted your chin upwards, leaning in to meet him halfway, more than ready to feel those luscious lips on yours. You shut your eyes, just to make it more romantic.
His arms wrapped around you and you went in for the kill.
That’s when the worst possible thing happened. Well, perhaps not the worst thing but this was pretty fucking close.
Instead of the soft lips you were expecting, your lips met the soft material of his sweater.
Yes, that’s right. His sweater.
You, Y/N Y/LN, had just planted a big ol’ smooch on Henry Cavill’s sweater.
Your eyes snapped open and you wondered what you did so wrong in your past life to deserve this. How could you have misjudged the situation so wrongly?
The second Henry felt the tiny amount of pressure on his shoulder, he knew he fucked up. He had no idea why he didn’t just tell you that the collar of your coat was sticking up, why did he feel the need to straighten it himself? Now, what was he going to do? He didn’t want to embarrass you.
But, it was a little too late for that now, wasn’t it?
You both stepped away at the same time, seeming to look at anything else in the room but each other. It was nice of him to also feel embarrassed on your behalf but, you felt like everyone the world over was cringing out of their skin from secondhand embarrassment.
“So, dinner?” Henry offered you his strong arm, grinning at you like nothing happened
Was it possible for him to be even more perfect? As you looped your arm through his, you found out that it was.
---------------------------
The expansive cityscape was laid out before you from the secluded trellis covered terrace of the restaurant he chose. The view was beautiful, the lights of the city sprinkled across buildings, homes, and streets, the inky black and blue sky stretching far beyond.
Gazing out at it should have made you feel calm, at peace. But you were a bundle of nerves. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think that you’d be on a date with Henry Cavill and you wouldn’t have imagined that he would be accusing you of forgetting that you shared a kiss.
“Look,” you rested your arms on the table, looking at him as seriously as you could without getting lost in his eyes, “I swear, if we really did kiss, I would remember.”
Henry studied you quietly amidst the hustle and bustle of the restaurant beyond the French doors. It was endearing to him, how quickly you would sometimes switch from confident assertiveness to awkward fumbling.
For you, it was a test of endurance to look past the god-given good looks and focus on trying to anticipate what his next move was.
Turns out, it was one in your favour.
“You know what? I think you’re right.”
You almost did a spit take with your wine. Thank God you weren’t wearing anything white.
Okay, act cool. That should be easy, right? You were an actor after all. Just be cool. Relax your shoulders, unclench your jaw, stop sweating.
"I must've been mistaken. I truly apologise."
He looked so sheepish, you actually reached over to put your hand on his. You tilted your head and gave him an understanding smile. A wave of relief washed over your body and to Henry, it showed. Your rigid posture finally loosened and you even managed to lace your fingers through his.
"I totally get it. I mean, with our jobs? We meet dozens of people everyday, it's not hard to be confused."
His heart leapt into his throat at the contact, it felt like his entire arm was covered in live wires but he would endure it just to savour your hand in his.
"Let's focus on our date, yeah?"
"Yes, absolutely," you nodded enthusiastically, "Please. Tell me all about you."
"Oh, but I'd rather hear about you."
You were flattered, really. But just in case this was never going to happen again, you needed to get him talking and sponge up as much information as you could.
"And you will, but let’s hear about you first.”
He wanted to argue but you were already looking at him expectantly and despite your short time together, he was already struggling to say no to you.
So, he talked, and talked, and talked, much more than he’s ever dared to talk in his whole life. And you listened, absolutely captivated by his eloquence, his intelligence, his passion, and his wit. Not to mention his voice, deep and silky and hypnotising. Why people thought he lacked personality was a mystery to you.
“I do love theatre,” he explained with a mouthful pasta. It was adorable, no questions asked. “I wish I had that courage and longevity to just deliver every single night for months on end.”
“I actually started out in theatre.” you nodded your head as he widened his eyes at you questioningly. “Yup. I did a decent run of The Tempest at the Yard a year back.”
That’s when the ball dropped. Time seemed to stop for Henry, his drink hovered in the air just as he was about to raise it to his lips. It had finally made itself known, his smoking gun. He faltered only for a second before masking his triumphant smirk with his wine glass.
One harmless little question out of his mouth had you turning as red as the cherry tomatoes artfully scattered in the salad that was set before you.
“Ah, yes. Didn’t you play Miranda?”
You stopped stirring your iced tea and furrowed a brow at him.
“Yes. Yes, I was. Did you catch a show?”
“I did. I was at the opening night after party as well.” he enunciated this part slowly and clearly, hoping that your eyes would spark with recognition
But they didn’t.
“Isn’t that a shame. We could have done this earlier if we crossed paths that night.”
Henry pursed his lips and nodded, mildly disheartened but nonetheless, he pressed on.
“I do recall meeting you though.”
This again?
You huffed and set your utensils on your plate. You laced your fingers together and looked him in his gorgeous ocean coloured eyes.
“Okay. If that is the night in question then I will admit that I… may have kissed someone but it wasn’t you.”
“Well, well, well…” he raised an eyebrow at you and you instantly coloured
It wasn’t one of your finest moments and you figured you would never have to dig that memory out of the vault but here it was.
“I know how this sounds,” you shook your head disapprovingly at him, “But it’s not. Okay. On God, it wasn’t you.”
Henry nodded yet again, narrowing his eyes at you. The silent treatment and judgy look he had on forced you to keep talking, which probably wasn’t the best idea.
“It wasn’t you, Henry. Okay? It was just some random dude in a nice sweater and a signet ring or something.”
Alarm bells started clanging in your head as your eyes swept over your dinner date. Nice sweater, check. A signet ring resting on his pinky, check.
“It wasn’t you.” you repeated in more of a whisper, more to convince yourself than anything else
Throughout your debate, bits and pieces of that night started to come back to you. The most embarrassing part came to mind first, it would probably be your saving grace but, did you really want to tell Henry Cavill what you thought you did?
“Am I really that bad a kisser? That you felt the need to completely erase it from your memory?”
His tone was joking but you could see in his eyes that he was a little bit hurt. It was going to be a cold day in hell if you were going to be the person to make Henry Cavill doubt his skills in the kissing area.
“I kissed a male prostitute that night, okay!” you yelled out in exasperation
Thank God your table was situated on the terrace or else a restaurant full of people would have been in on your little secret. As your voice echoed off the walls, you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself. How much embarrassment were you going to endure?
“A male prostitute?” Henry repeated slowly, clearly having a difficult time processing this new information
“Yes.” you groaned, leaning back in your seat and covering your face with your hands
---One year before---
The curtains closed to thunderous applause, whistles and standing ovations. Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to keep your breathing steady.
Did that really just happen?
You looked around at your castmates and wrangled them into a group hug.
“Did I really just do that?” you asked Marge upon meeting her backstage
“Yes, you did! Now go on and get changed. It’s after party time.”
With that, she sent you off with a smack on your ass.
You’d only known Marge for a few months since you arrived in London but you liked her already. It’s not like you had a choice though, really, she was the only one you knew.
“How about that one, that one over there?” Marge slurred, shoulders knocking into yours, less than discreetly pointing out some guy in the crowd of party goers
“Shh! Marge!” you giggled, more than a little tipsy yourself
Opening night was a smashing success, it was your first ever gig anywhere, really. You were so nervous the entire time, you thought you were doomed to fuck up and forget your lines or something but that moment never came.
“HEY! REVIEWS ARE OUT!” someone yelled in the crowd
“Here we go.” you murmured, knocking back your drink and tugging Marge along
The huge crowd gathered around your director, who was standing on a stool. It was a tight squeeze since a good chunk of the people who came were already hammered. Someone from behind shoved you forward and you rather inelegantly fell into the arms of the man next to you.
“Whoa there.” you could just make out the deep velvety voice above the murmurings of the crowd
“Oh, God, I am so sorry, I-” you trailed off when you finally laid eyes on your rescuer
Oh, wow.
You couldn’t decide which feature to focus on first. The captivating eyes that were a shade of blue that your alcohol-soaked brain couldn’t even comprehend, the strong chiseled jawline you needed a protractor to measure, or the perfect stray curls that fell onto his forehead?
Decisions, decisions.
“Are you alright? You almost fell.”
Goosebumps broke out on your arms as he helped you stand upright.
God, he was handsome, an observation you thought you had kept to yourself.
The tall man chuckled, still holding on to your forearms, “Thanks very much. I’m He-”
“And Y/N, my incomparable Miranda!” a booming voice interrupted him from the front of the room
“Fuck, that’s me.”
You broke from his grasp and fought your way through the crowds, leaving your hero looking out after you.
“Newcomer Y/N Y/L/N’s performance as Miranda is the glittering centrepiece to this refreshing, masterful take on an enduring classic,” the director read aloud, allowing the crowd to raise their glasses to you
You smiled at everyone, inadvertently meeting the eye of your tall handsome man.
When the crowd dispersed, you and Marge found yourselves back at the open bar, eyeing up every guy that passed by.
“Y/N, you’re on the fast track now. You killed tonight, now it’s time to pick your prize! How about that one? In the corner? Looks tall, shaggy hair…”
“Marge, that’s a ficus.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that other ficus has been looking over since we set up camp here.”
You followed the tilt of her head to the same guy from earlier, the achingly handsome one. He raised his glass to you and you waved sloppily back. It was the alcohol, okay? Open bar, what were you gonna do?
Marge whistled low, sizing him up from head to toe, “Y/N, that’s a male prostitute if I’ve ever seen one and I have seen a lot of ones.”
The fry you had chomped down barely made it halfway down your throat before coming back up again, “What? No! Marge, he’s not.”
“But he is. Y/N, that man is tall, hung, and handsome. There is no man that tall, hung, and handsome that isn’t either an actor or a male prostitute.”
“Tall, hung, and handsome.” you mumbled, raking your eyes over him as discreetly as you could
In your inebriated state, you completely forgot to ask Marge why he couldn’t have been an actor. Why did her mind immediately head for the strip club? And why did yours follow suit?
“Imma go and bag myself a stripper, Marge. Okay?”
“Yes! Use protection!”
Before strutting off or more like stumbling off, you downed some more booze which probably was not as good of an idea than you thought. Not even halfway to him, you decided that you were teetering in your heels a little bit too much, so you took them off.
“Oh. Hey there.” the same silky smooth voice from earlier greeted you
“Ah, fuck. You’re tall.”
Looking up at him made you dizzy, like standing at the top of a giant skyscraper and looking down at the very edge.
He chuckled and you watched entranced as his face just lit up like Christmas. You decided then and there that you would like to kiss the Christmas, very much so indeed.
The liquid courage in you was really doing its job. You took his hand and dragged him away from the party. This was fine, wasn’t it? It’s not like he was complaining, he looked rather amused actually. Things like this probably happen to him a lot in his line of work.
“Well, now you have me, what are you going to do with me?” he asked teasingly once you two were tucked away in a dark corner
The combined effects of the excessive alcohol, the high of your first successful job, and the way this sinfully handsome man was looking at you made your next move the easiest thing in the world.
You balled the front of his sweater in your fist and tugged him down towards you. He was too tall.
Who on earth was this ballsy, clumsy, beautiful, talented stranger?
Henry didn’t get the chance to ask before his lips came crashing down and immediately, wildfire.
A shockwave of frenzy ran through his body, he needed to feel you. He was all hands and lips and ragged breaths. His lips traveled down the smooth path of your throat, nipping and sucking as he went. You were putty in his hands.
“Jump.” he growled
You did as he asked and he latched his hands underneath your thighs and planted you against the wall. His lower half pressed into yours and you knew that Marge was right. Your hands raked through his hair and you reveled in the feel of him, strong, confident, in charge. His large hands made their way to your bottom and he squeezed gently.
A breathy moan escaped your lips and you knew you needed to have more of this man. Your fumbling hands made their way to his belt buckle but he set you down on your feet and held you steady.
“What..?” you whispered, suddenly disoriented
“I really should take you on a date first.” he panted
Sober, you definitely would have taken him up on his offer, male prostitute or not, but you were far from it and your head was still spinning so you thought you’d shut your eyes for a while and have him catch your unconscious form.
With you over his shoulder and your shoes in one hand, Henry made his way to his car and drove you safely home, relying on the satnav and your slurred directions.
He laid you gently in bed, brushing the hair away from your face. You snored in your drunken sleep and Henry smiled at the sound.
This was an encounter he was sure he would remember for a long time.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Well, that was me,” Henry nodded his head with his bottom lip jutted out. “Exactly as you remembered it.”
Tall, hung, and handsome, huh? That wasn’t anything new to him. He’s been described using far more… graphic detail, if his time searching his name on Tumblr was anything to go by. But hearing it come from your mouth turned him several shades of red.
You, on the other hand, had no words. Again. But you figured that it was all Marge’s fault.
“So, I suppose I was right?” he confirmed, unable to contain the self-satisfied smirk on his face
“Uh, yeah,” you sighed, absolutely exhausted from your little trip down memory lane. “Yeah, I guess you were right.”
Slowly, you met each other’s eyes. A moment passed before you both dissolved into fits of laughter.
“Do I look like a male prostitute? Did I exude that kind of energy at the time?” Henry guffawed, shoulders shaking
“God, I don’t even know how I thought that! I was super drunk, okay?” you covered your face with your hands, mortified and extremely amused at yourself
The laughter died down and you were left gazing at each other fondly. Dessert had long since been over and the night went on, the candlelights on your table and scattered around the quiet terrace intensified the feeling that was passing between you.
“Y/N?”
“Yes?”
You didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened and settled on your lips. Unlike all the other times today, you didn’t feel nervous, you didn’t feel like you were about to make a fool of yourself, you felt completely calm.
“Would it be alright with you if we picked up where we left off that night?”
Ever the gentleman. You smiled and made your way over to him.
“Hi.” you made yourself comfortable on his lap and you laced your arms around his neck
“Hello, there.” he whispered against your lips
It was probably not the best place to do this, in a restaurant where upwards of twenty people were just beyond the terrace doors but you were in your own little world.
You were endlessly thankful that you were sober for this, you would never forgive yourself otherwise.
When his lips finally met yours, you wondered how on earth you ever forgot such a feeling. It was gentle and soft, as most of these things start, his thumbs caressed that apple of your cheeks then he laid a chaste kiss on each.
You breathed long and hard as his hands splayed on your back, pushing you closer to him. His warm tongue traced the outline of your bottom lip before exploring your mouth, the taste of you mixed with the subtle taste of wine was exquisite and he wanted more. He drank you in, holding you flush against him.
“Wait.” you took his hand and led him to the far side of the terrace to an alcove enveloped in a curtain of lush vines
“When did you spot this?” Henry asked, breathless as you sat him down and straddled him once again
“On the way in.” you had the audacity to blush
“You had plans for me already?”
“A girl always comes prepared.”
Nothing would ever prepare you for the sight of his full length, once his trousers were lowered, it was over for you. Henry took control by shoving your underwear to the side and impaling you onto him. You inhaled sharply, screwing your eyes tightly shut.
“Are you okay?” he struggled to control himself, having you quivering on top of him was severely testing his restraint
“Yes. Please. Move.” all you could manage were monosyllabic answers
And move he did. It should be illegal to be this good.
The night air was cool but you were both slick with sweat, you two had lost your tops a while ago and Henry’s tongue swept across the valley of your breasts and marked his territory everywhere he could. His thrusts were enough to bruise you but you never wanted anything more than to feel him.
“Henry,” you gasped out as he continued to hit that spot that made you see stars
He could sense that you were close, you were tightening around him and gripping him like a vise.
“Let go, lovely.” he whispered in your ear, committing the way your face twisted into a mask of pleasure and desperation to memory
You rode him furiously, the sound of your flesh colliding over and over again mingled with your hoarse moans, you were certain that someone would hear you but at that moment all you cared about was reaching your peak and with Henry Cavill at the helm?
His large hand clamped around your mouth as you came, you writhed and arched your body uncontrollably as his thrusts became more erratic. He pulled out of you and began to finish himself off, he did not expect for your hand to join his and he did not expect to come so quickly once it did.
“Jesus.” he panted, reaching over to smooth your hair out of your face
You shivered, suddenly very aware that you weren't wearing anything at all. Henry helped you dress quickly and wrapped his own coat around you, rubbing some heat into your arms.
When you refused to look him in the eye the entire ride back to your flat, that’s when Henry started getting nervous.
It’s not like he could ask you if you enjoyed it? I mean, he could but that would make him look like an amateur and he would really like to think that he was no amateur in that area. So instead, he took your hand as you stood in front of your door.
“Y/N, I would love to do this again. The date, not the sex- I mean, I would like to have sex with you again but that's not what I'm after-Holy shit."
Oh, how the tables have turned.
Henry rubbed at his face with a hand and sighed, "Do you think you'd like to see me again?"
"Do you think you'd like to stay the night?"
Both of you asked your questions at the same time and you both looked taken aback at them.
"What makes you think I don't want to see you again?" you wrapped your arms around his torso and looked up at him
"You were silent the whole car ride?"
He looked so unsure and a little afraid that you couldn't help but squeeze him. How could someone be both heartbreakingly handsome and adorable all at the same time?
"I was just summoning up the courage to ask you to stay the night!"
"Oh thank God."
He swept you off your feet and threw your door open but, you didn’t end up in bed (you’d get there later), you ended up in the same place you started, on the couch, with him spectating and occasionally helping out as you played Witcher 3.
The next morning, you woke up to a text message and a forwarded article from Marge,
“HOW BEING A STAN GOT Y/N Y/L/N HER MAN”
YOU TWO ARE EVERYWHERE. CHECK IT OUT! I TAKE CASH, CHEQUES, AND LAVISH GIFTS. YOU’RE WELCOME.
A muscular arm gently wrapped around your bare waist and a tender kiss was pressed onto your shoulder. You looked back at your handsome bedfellow and smiled.
You’d take a look at it later. Right now, you had better things to do.
#henry cavill#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill imagine#henry cavill fic#Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill#geralt of rivia#the witcher#the man from uncle
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Remember Us - part 2
Double feature this week. Here we go with part 2. Rowan takes another step on the path of recovering his life.
Also, we get to meet the kids <3
------
When Aelin got home that night after her shift at the hospital, she was tired and not just from the long hours spent in OR. She was tired in her soul. Aelin had managed to keep her thoughts at bay while operating, but as soon as she was out they came back. It had been hard to fight the urge to go and see him again. He wanted space. That was clear so she just went home instead.
Once she crossed the threshold, laughter welcomed her. Her kids sounded happy.
She shed her coat and removed her shoes and followed the happy sounds.
Walking into the kitchen she found her mother cooking and Thomas helping her setting the table and little Freyja banging her plastic cutlery on her high chair. She was a shy girl but would become alive and loud when she was hungry. Just like her mum.
“Mama!” Shouted her daughter as she spotted her.
“Mum,” Thomas echoed his sister and ran to her, hugging Aelin at her knees “hi my darling, how are you?” She kneeled at his height and ruffled his blonde hair.
“Helping grandma cook.”
“Food.” Shouted Freyja who got agitated trying to get the attention of her mother. Aelin went to her daughter and lifted the wee girl in her arms “hi my love,” and she snuggled her head against her mother’s chest.
“Hi mum,” said Aelin to Evalin. The woman stirred something in the pan and turned to her daughter “welcome back, darling.” She said and her gaze turned worried at her daughter’s tired expression.
Aelin shook her head, knowing what her mother was about to say “later,” she added. She did not want to talk about Rowan in front of the kids.
“Come on Tom, sit at the table. Dinner is ready.” On his grandma’s orders the boy climbed on his chair and started eating his meal.
Aelin joined them a moment later, all changed in house clothes and sat at her daughter’s side.
Thomas was three and had just started learning how to use a fork properly. They would cut the food for him and he would try to use the utensil. Rowan had been teaching him. A pang of sadness hit her and pushed back the tears, now it was not the time. She would feed Freyja who was only eighteen months old.
“Did you help grandma cook?”
The boy nodded while taking a bite from his fork and gave her a big smile. His green eyes lighting up with joy. Eyes just like his father’s.
“Aelin, let me feed Freyja. You have your dinner. You haven’t touched it yet.”
Aelin shook her head “I am fine. It can wait.”
Truth was… she felt nauseous and that feeling had nothing to do with being pregnant. It was fear. Terror of losing Rowan. Terror that he would never recover his memories and her kids would be left without a father and her without her soulmate. She almost lost him once. She would never forget the day she got the call from the hospital. Those horrible moments were forever etched in her memory.
Later on that night, once the kids were in bed Evalin joined her daughter on the sofa and brought her a chamomile tea.
“The kids are asleep. What’s troubling you?”
Aelin sighed and her hand went to her stomach “Rowan woke up.”
“Today?”
She nodded in confirmation and leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder “I had just left the OR when I got a page from his doctor. I went to his room and he was awake,” a loud sob broke from her lips “he does not remember me or the kids.”
Evalin pulled her daughter closer and hugged her knowing the pain she had been feeling for the past month “Yrene had told you it might happen.”
Aelin nodded slightly “I didn’t think it could hurt that much. He had no idea who I was. He doesn’t remember our kids.” Her sobs turned into proper crying “I am so scared, mum. So, so scared.”
“I know, darling.” Evalin kissed her daughter’s head “you will have to be strong a bit longer. Does the doctor think he will regain his memory?”
Aelin gave her a small nod “but it might take time and what if he realises that he doesn’t want us in his life anymore?”
“Rowan loves you and the kids madly. The road ahead might be bumpy but he will come back.” A ragged breath escaped from Aelin. She hoped her mother was right, because if she was not she doubted she would survive loosing him a second time.
*
Rowan woke up the next morning with an horrendous headache. He had a fitful sleep and his thoughts had been stuck all night on her. Aelin. His wife. At her side two small shadows representing their kids. In his mind he had this picture of him holding someone, the smell of lemon and verbena strong around him. But he was sure it was more a feeling than an actual memory. He had woken up all of a sudden and hadn’t been able to fall asleep properly since. His body recognised the other one.
A nurse brought breakfast and of one thing he was sure. He hated hospital food. Which led to another series of questions. What did he eat for breakfast? Was he a good cook? What was his favourite food?
Reluctantly he finished the food on his tray and decided to kill the boredom by watching tv. According to the news it was January and the meteorologist were warning all the citizens of Terrasen of a snowstorm warning.
He was so bored watching the news that he felt glad when Aelin knocked on the doorframe “Mind if I come in?”
He shook his head “is tv always this boring?”
Aelin chuckled and for a second she saw a glimpse of him. He always hated tv. The only reason they had one in the house was because she had pestered him about it “yeah. You find reading more interesting.”
He switched off the television and faced her “I am…” he sighed “yesterday… I was overwhelmed. It was… it still is too much.”
“I know,”said Aelin trying to suppress the instinct to touch him. Not until he was okay with it.
“Tell me something about me, about my life. Us… anything.” He started, eager to know more. He needed it “do I like breakfast?”
Aelin laughed “you do, and you are a great cook. On Saturdays you always make us pancakes and let Thomas help you flip them.” She smiled at the image. Thomas on his knees on a chair beside his dad.
“You are a healthy eater so you tend to scoff enormous quantities of fruit and veggies while complaining about my crazy dietary habits.”
She was dying to show him pictures of the kids but decided against it. One step at a time. Let him become familiar with the idea of being married first.
“You are a lawyer. A kickass one at that.” His green eyes were trained on her “you and Lorcan opened your own practice. After graduation you two got a job in a fancy company but eventually got tired of dealing with rich bastards and opened a firm that deals mostly with family law but also offers legal support to us common human beings.” She had been so proud of him. The big job had left him miserable and with very little time to live. He had been stressed and after two years he had realised that the huge salary was not worth it. Lorcan had followed him and together they had started their new adventure. They had started small snd simple, but slowly as they took in more cases they had to start hiring more people and the firm had gotten bigger and successful.
“You love hiking, nature in general and winter. We are both in love with theatre and on our first date you took me to a play.”
Rowan looked at her and that tug in his chest came back for a visit.
“We have been married for seven years and you proposed at my best friend’s wedding. We were dancing and you asked me what if we were the next ones to do that? Then you went on one knee and asked me to marry you.”
He kept listening, adding some more pieces of info to what he had gathered so far. And the more Aelin spoke the more that connection he had felt the day before grew stronger.
“What type of doctor are you?”
“I am the chief of paediatric neurosurgery and I work two floors above this.”
Rowan took a deep breath and asked a question that had been burning in him since she has appeared “do you have any photos of us, of the kids?”
Aelin felt like crying and extracted her mobile phone and scrolled through her huge quantity of photos “This is Thomas. He is three.”
Rowan looked at the boy and saw a blond mop of hair just as golden as his mother’s and two striking green eyes just like his. In the photo the boy was laughing while he held him in his arms.
Aelin swiped and the image of a little girl appeared and he gasped. There was no doubt that she was his daughter. Her hair was silver as his and even her eyes were the exact copy.
“She is so much like you.” He noticed the smile appearing on Aelin’s face. While she talked about their life her face had lit up and in front of him he had the most stunning woman he had ever seen. Probably. He wasn’t sure but Aelin took his breath away.
“Are we happy? As a family?”
Aelin nodded without even thinking about it. They were, she had no doubts about it “Yes. We wanted a family, kids. It was our choice.”
Rowan nodded and wanted to believe her, needed to believe the passion and the love in her voice.
“I need time.” He said quietly, averting his gaze from hers for just a brief moment “This is a lot that I need to process. I will need time but I want to hear more.”
Aelin sobbed and grabbed her backpack and extracted another mobile phone “this is yours. It survived the crash because you used a military grade protecting cover. I just charged it. The password is 0305.” She gave him the mobile “it has photos, texts. Everything is still there, maybe it will help.”
Aelin looked at her watch and stood “I have to go, I have a surgery in two hours.”
Rowan nodded.
“You can text me if you want. My contact is under Fireheart.”
He looked at the phone and then at her “will you come back?”
Aelin took a step toward him and kissed his silver hair as she did the previous day and then nodded.
She waved at him and disappeared through the door.
He moved his attention to the phone and tried to figure out how to switch it on. Once he did it asked him a pin code and he entered the digits she had told him.
Once the phone was unlocked he was welcomed by a picture of him, Aelin and the kids on a beach. He had Freyja on his shoulders and was laughing as she patted his head. Aelin was holding Thomas potato sack style and the boy was grinning. With his fingers he traced her face and then went looking for the photo album. Before opening he hesitated. His life, his memories were there and he was scared.
There were picture of his wife. Plenty of them and she always had an amazing smile. Of one thing he was sure:Aelin took his breath away. Photos of their kids and he spotted one of what he suspected was a newborn Freyja. He held the little bundle in his arms while Thomas was at his side staring at his sister. He saw happiness, he saw joy, but most of all he saw love. Deep love that bound the four of them. Aelin had not lied. They seemed happy. He found photos of what he assumed were friends but he could not tell who they were, he hadn’t covered that part yet. Accepting the idea of a wife and kids was hard enough. He was not ready yet to add more people. The mere idea made him feel dizzy.
He was getting tired again even if it was only morning, but he pushed through and found the app with the text messages and went to look at the ones from Aelin and he read the last one she sent him go and win your case and then tonight I will show you how proud I am of my sexy lawyer.
He scrolled back through the thread and read random texts between them until he went back a few months and saw a text with a picture attached.
You are away for work and I miss you. I went for my first proper check-up and I am proud to share with you the picture of the new member of our family. The image was greyish and grainy but the message was clear: Aelin was pregnant again.
He placed the phone on his lap and closed his eyes calming the sense of panic overwhelm him.
And with his eyes closed he tried to remember.
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For the prompts,
"I never ask for help because I'm not sure I know how."
For Tangled 👁👁💕
i’m just writing a drabble, she said, as she proceeded to write 1270 words. i’m she.
anyway you can go read this on ao3 or keep reading below!!
***
Before stealing the crown, Eugene had spent two months casing the palace. It was a slow process of finding the old blueprints, memorising the schedule of the guards, and even sneaking into a tour intended for visiting dignitaries. That is to say, if anyone knew how to successfully sneak around the castle, it would be him.
Of course, none of that planning ever accounted for the princess standing with her arms crossed in front of his room.
“Hey, Rapunzel,” he said, using his best and least suspicious smile.
She raised an eyebrow at him.
“Are you alright?” He tried to switch topics. “You look cold.”
It was true, in his defence. Now that he walked closer, he realised she was only in a thin nightgown, and she was shivering. He shrugged off his outermost coat without a second thought, draping it around her shoulders and tugging her into him.
She pushed back. “Are you wearing… five jackets?”
Oh, right. That’s why he was trying to go unnoticed. He stammered for a response while she removed the coat and inspected it. “Technically, two of these are shirts.”
“Eugene.”
“Okay, okay, fine. Can we get out of the hallway before someone sees, though? I can’t have any rumours circulating that my fashion sense is anything less than show-stopping.”
Rapunzel smiled, at least, which he took as a good sign. She had discarded his coat though, and as she tucked her legs under his quilt, he found himself shedding another layer to offer to her. It was still the end of summer, but the past few days had been wrought with thunderstorms and between this and his girlfriend’s habit of running through the rain, he was worried she’d catch a cold.
And she never did say if she was alright. It was just past midnight—by two minutes, judging from the sound of the night guard starting his rounds in the hallway—and Rapunzel had only ever shown up unannounced at his door like this after a nightmare.
He opened his mouth to ask again, but she beat him to the chase.
“You didn’t wear three jackets and two shirts just to give them to me, did you?”
“Ah, well. My wardrobe was looking a little thin, don’t you think?”
In fact, in the five weeks since being invited to live in the castle, he’d barely acquired enough clothes to survive between washes. It was still more than he’d ever had, but it felt pitiful beside Rapunzel’s never ending selection of gowns.
He had a reputation to uphold here, after all. And with the weather getting colder—well, he was running out of options.
“So you went shopping at midnight?” she asked.
He winced, but he’d already promised himself never to lie to her again. “Not exactly.”
Though he was too busy pacing a hole in the floor to bury himself in, Eugene could imagine the look she was giving him now. He only hoped there was loving concern behind it.
“I didn’t steal them!” he quickly explained. “They’d just been… left. Discarded, really. Unused and in need of a new home! It would’ve been a disservice not to take them with me. Cleaning up the town, is what I did.”
He snuck a glance at her, and sure enough, there was that frown. She took the second jacket off her shoulders, spreading it out over the bed.
“This belongs to someone, Eugene.”
“No, no, I made sure of that. Spent days asking if anyone had misplaced a coat, and got zip, nada, nothing. Trust me, there were plenty more I did return.”
Including a very snazzy woollen sweater that he’d been loath to part with.
Rapunzel held a hand out to him, ceasing his pacing at the very least. It just reminded him once again of how little she was wearing since she seemed determined to freeze, so he began doffing his third jacket for her.
“I don’t get it,” she said. “You could’ve bought more clothes.”
“With all the money I don’t have?”
“You could ask.”
“I could never ask for help,” he scoffed.
He was being harsh and he knew it, but it was a sore spot for him—for more than ten years he’d managed just fine without relying on anybody. Rapunzel looked up at him unimpressed.
Sighing, he sat beside her on the bed, and looked stubbornly at the wall. “I’m not sure I know how.”
She leaned into him, head falling on his shoulder as he automatically wound his arm around her. That was the one thing he could always count on her for, as hard as learning to trust another person was. But she understood him surprisingly well.
“Why don’t you practice?” she asked.
“Practice,” he echoed.
“Sure!” She scooted back to give him an encouraging smile, and he watched in dismay as the latest jacket slid off her shoulders. “Go ahead, try asking me now.”
It was absurd, and foolish, but so distinctly Rapunzel that he thought it just might work. What did he have to lose around her anyway?
He cleared his throat. “Alright. Uh, so the thing is, you see—no, wait, let me start again. This is harder than it looks actually. I was just asking, I mean, you know what I’m asking, really, so I don’t know how to—”
“Focus, Eugene.”
“Right, right. It’s just, well.” The words felt glued in his throat, and he felt like an idiot. “Help. You, I mean, me, I mean, would you… me.”
Rapunzel was nodding along, though, with one of the largest grins he’d ever seen on her face. Which was saying something. He really didn’t deserve her.
“You were so close! I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you, sunshine.”
Yeah, he definitely didn’t deserve that, but as she flung her arms around him, he found he didn’t mind in the slightest. She was soft and warm, squeezing the life out of him in the most pleasant way. Wait, warm?
He reached up to cup her cheeks, and placed an experimental kiss on her forehead.
“Hey, why were you waiting at my door in the first place?” he asked casually, as if a thousand alarm bells hadn’t started ringing in his head at once.
“Oh, you know.” She pulled away, and her guilty smile confirmed all of his suspicions immediately. “I just wanted the company.”
He shed off his final extra layer, a green shirt that was several sizes too large, even on him. This time, he guided her through the sleeves, and started buttoning the shirt at her chin. He could tell the moment she gave up her act, slouching into him with a grimace.
“I guess my head kind of hurts,” she said slowly.
“Uh huh.”
“…And my throat’s a little sore.”
“Sure.”
“But it’s nothing to worry—”
She sneezed, and at least had the decency to appear sorry. Not that he was mad at her in the slightest—only increasingly worried. Did she need more blankets? A glass of water? He should call the physician, right?
No, he had to calm down. It was just the beginning of a cold. What she needed now was some rest and someone to hold her. Or maybe that bit was for his sake.
Then it occurred to him. “Are you trying to ask for help?”
“Maybe.” She sniffed.
He slid in the final button, and tucked her more firmly against his chest. It was probably unwise to remain so close to someone sick, but he hadn’t exactly been making the smartest decisions lately.
At least he had someone to remind him why he tried.
#this is the dumbest thing ive ever written#but also probably my favourite#thank u for the prompt!!!!#eugene fitzherbert#rapunzel#new dream#my fic
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Not a Trick

Pairing: Loki x con artist!reader Summary: Loki wins Thor’s money back after you swindle him in a street con. Warnings: none I believe A/N: Requested by @lemonbars-and-fingerguns. Hope you enjoy!
Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely @laurenandloki @fallinallinmendes @sophlubbwriting @mooncat163
Disclaimer: Gif not mine
“Loki!” Thor called in a whiny tone, drawing out the vowels.
“Yes, brother,” Loki sighed.
There was a reason he disliked going out with the God of Thunder. Ever since they’d both moved to Midgard, Loki’s older brother had decided to start acting like just that—a brother. He’d insisted they do practically everything together, making up for the last century or so when they’d both been forced into competition for the throne. Now he realized Loki was always supportive of him, and he wanted to be there for Loki.
On the one hand, Loki was overjoyed. On the other, he was beyond pissed. Thor was just a bit... overly friendly, to put it nicely. Or, as nicely as Loki could manage through his annoyance. Clingy as he was, Thor had good intentions, and Loki saw that, appreciated it, so he didn’t say anything. He sorely missed his alone time, though, which he now barely had.
“I’ve been robbed!”
Loki sighed once more, shaking his head. He was certain there was more to the story than that. No way the lumbering thunder god merely had his wallet picked off of him or something. “And how exactly did that happen?”
“See that table over there?” Loki nodded in affirmation. “Well, they have this game to play, keep your eye on the cards as they shuffle. I saw three people go before me and they all won! But I lost! Five times!”
Loki wasn’t sure what to make of that. Perhaps his brother was just being imbecilic, unobservant. Or maybe he actually was tricked. Honestly, Loki had a nose for those kinds of things, and he felt like perhaps that was the case here. He wanted to write it off, but admittedly, his interest had been piqued.
“Alright,” was all he said before walking in the direction Thor had pointed.
The blond god trailed behind him, perking up a bit now that his brother was on the case. He did always have a knack for these kinds of things, outsmarting others with his tricks and the like.
“Excuse me,” Loki said, clearing his throat after waiting his turn. It seemed you had been swindling people after all, he learned as he watched you work.
“Sorry, sweethearts,” you said with a honey voice, remembering Thor from moments ago. “No refunds.”
“And who said we were requesting one?” You eyed him distrust fully as he sat down. “My brother lost against you, but that is par for the course-”
“Hey!” Thor chimed in, but Loki put up a hand to silence him.
“-while I am not so easily confused. Now, I believe I am meant to set the stakes?”
He put down the same amount of money Thor had lost and then some. Your eyes widened in disbelief. There was a bit of a crowd now, both your shills and people you’d already tricked. There was no way you could turn this man down. You felt like he had some tricks of his own up his sleeve, but how could you resist?
“Right. So you know the rules then? If I win, I keep your bet; if you win, I double it.”
“Yes. So, shall we begin?”
You frowned at his grin. “Ok. Keep your eye on the ace of spades.”
You began to shuffle the cards quickly and sometimes all three at once. Still, he caught the exact moment you switched the card with the one in your sleeve. To the inexperienced eye, he could see how it would go unnoticed. Unfortunately for you, the god had magic on his side. Loki smirked as you told him it was time to pick the card.
“Darling, you could have at least made it hard,” he tsked, pointing at the leftmost option. “This one.”
“Sorry, but-”
You abruptly cut off when you flipped the card to find it was, in fact, the ace of spades. Frowning, you furrowed your brow.
“May I have my winnings now or shall we play again,” he smiled.
“You cheated,” you accused, voice low and leaning across the table towards him.
“So did you,” he shot back, matching your pitch.
The two of you engaged in a mini staring contest, a battle of your wills. “Fine. Take it,” you begrudged, tossing his money towards him.
“Yes!” Thor boomed. “Do not mess with the Avengers! Especially not when it is the Odinson brothers.”
Your eyes widened. “Y-you two are avengers?” you asked in disbelief and worry.
“We are. And I am not too sure this ‘business’ you have here is legitimate.”
“Brother,” Loki cautioned while reimbursing the others gathered who had lost their money. Noticeably, your friends had run off. At least his time with Thor had expanded his vocabulary, though. “You got your money back, did you not?”
“Yes, but tell me this is not a scam. How many others can we allow them to- Wait. Where did they go?”
Loki looked to see you running down the sidewalk. “Leave it.”
“But-”
“Leave it,” Loki snapped a bit harsher. “They are not doing any real harm. You do not know their situation.”
“Fine. But we at least deserve some celebratory ice cream.”
Loki sighed once more, staring off after you. “Lead the way.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You set a brisk pace as you went home that evening. The rest of the day had been fairly unprofitable, as you had to lie low after a couple of pesky avengers messed with your business. It wasn’t like being a con-artist was your first choice in careers, but that was always how your dad provided for your family growing up. One thing led to another, and there you were, jobless and without any profitable skill besides what your father had taught you. Still, you’d probably gotten too big for your britches when you scammed Thor. You had your reasons, though.
Locking the door of your tiny apartment, you were surprised to see a certain raven haired man standing there. “You,” you glared, tossing your keys into the dish on your table.
“Yes, me,” he replied, pulling you by your belt loops into a kiss. “Hello, darling.”
“Hi, sweetheart. I’m still mad at you.”
“I am truly sorry, but you did trick my brother,” he said, giving you as much space as possible on the old, small couch. “It was funny, I admit, but he is trying for me, so it only seems fair I try for him. I hope you know I would never have let him actually do anything to or report you.”
“Yeah, I know.” You scooted closer, the anger already dissipating. Loki helped you out more than you cared to admit; he was the reason you even met rent these past few months. Of course you wanted to pay him back, but he insisted there was no need. Still, that didn’t mean you wouldnt’t try.
He pulled you onto his lap, giving your temple a kiss. “Good. You are even better at acting than I thought, my darling, pretending you did not even recognize us and all,” he chuckled. “Though I am still wondering why you picked my brother as your target.”
“Well, how else was I supposed to get your attention,” you pouted, hating to admit it. “You haven’t come around all week.”
“I am sorry. I suppose Thor deserved it then; he is the one who has been keeping me busy. Though, I did have an idea about that.”
You wiggled around his arms, so you could face him. You usually liked his ideas, particularly when it was his trickster side talking. “Oh? Do tell.”
“Come work in the Tower. I think we could use someone with your skills on the team. Plus, we would have more time with each other.”
You blinked in surprise at the suggestion. It wasn’t an entirely bad one, but you were on the fence. “Well... Maybe. I’ll have to think about it.”
“Take your time, darling. I will always be here for you, regardless,” he said, gazing into your eyes and beginning to lean in for another kiss. “And that is not a trick.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
#thanks for requesting!#loki x reader#loki x you#loki laufeyson#loki odinson#loki#mcu loki#loki fluff#fluff#mcu fluff#marvel fluff#reader insert#gender netural reader#marvel#mcu#marvel reader insert#marvel fanfiction#loki fanfic#mcu reader insert#loki friggason#loki friggason x reader#loki laufeyson x reader#loki odinson x reader#loki oneshot#marvel oneshot#loki x y/n#loki x reader angst
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my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (prologue)
Summary: When Aaron Hotchner ended your affair with him, saying that a serial killer was going after him and his family, you were content with the idea that you'd probably never see him again. Two years have come and gone since then, but when you get dragged into an FBI investigation as a key witness, you and Hotch are forced to come face to face with all the things left unsaid.
Warnings: Age gap (15-ish years), smut, degradation, unprotected sex. This story is 18+ older. This is not a story for minors.
A/N: Hello, hello!! I figured that since I've made a writing tumblr, I should post my story on here!! This is a multichapter story, so I am very excited to go on this journey with y'all!! I already have multiple chapters written and published, so these should be coming out VERY quickly. If you don't want to wait to catch up, you can read everything I have on ao3! This chapter starts as a flashback, and then the next chapter and the rest from here on out will be actual plot!
masterlist || read on ao3
“If you were waitin’ on the sunshine, blue sky
Cheap high, lullaby
Then my best habit’s letting you down”
- The Maine, “My Best Habit”
Two years earlier
Your eyes scanned the University Ballroom, your champagne glass practically ignored in your hand. You hated all these alumni networking galas and avoided going to them as much as possible. Old, sleazy lawyers with much younger women on their arm reliving their best cases with each other and expecting all the new law students to laugh when they were able to get their defendant acquitted because of some dumb technicality. It made you sick.
It didn’t help that you were already going in with a bad attitude. Your ex-boyfriend had dropped by your apartment that morning to pick up the rest of his stuff, and he decided that the best person to help him with that was the girl he had been cheating on you with. You caught them together three weeks ago, and you had been so stressed from midterms that you hadn’t even had the chance to go out, get drunk, and have wildly irresponsible rebound sex.
But you had to suck it up for the night, at least until you were able to get the answer you came for. After that, you could go back to your apartment, replace your too tight and too short dress with some nice pajamas, and watch trashy reality TV until you passed out on your couch.
You scanned the room a few more times until you caught sight of a tall man in a dark suit leaning against the bar. Bingo. You set your champagne flute down and ran over to him as fast as your heels could take you. Once you were just a few steps away, you quickly composed yourself and walked straight into his line of sight.
SSA Aaron Hotchner rarely came to alumni events here at George Washington Law School, citing that he wasn’t even a prosecutor anymore and had much more important work to do back at the BAU, but he was going as favor to his old law school buddy. Plus, it was either coming to this or going out to the bar with the team, and seeing as he had just signed the divorce papers with Haley, he wanted to be somewhere he wasn’t going to be profiled all night. The free champagne was also a bonus.
When you saw that his name was on the RSVP list, you knew that you had to go.
“Agent Hotchner?” you asked, giving him your best straight A student smile.
He refused to look up right away, not giving you the chance to charm him. “I’m not currently on duty. If there is a case you would like the BAU to look over, that’s handled by our media liaison,” he said absently, taking another sip of champagne.
You frowned but kept your hand out for him to shake. “That’s not what I’m here for, I-” You took a breath to compose yourself. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m a first year here- getting a joint JD and masters in forensic psychology. My goal is to become a prosecutor,” you pressed, and you were rewarded when he perked up in interest. He slid his drink on the table.
“Most law firms don’t usually want a prosecutor who’s going to empathize with the person you’re prosecuting,” he mused, and shook your hand, his grip just tight enough to pass as faux politeness.
You shook your head and clasped your hands behind your back, trying to ignore how warm his hands were. “I think the best prosecutors empathize with the defendants,” you admitted. “Isn’t that how you succeeded as both a prosecutor and as a federal agent? That’s actually why I came to you, I wanted to ask you a question... about my thesis,” you added quickly, figuring that the best way to get him to talk to you.
Aaron’s posture changed from half asleep to maybe listening, and your face went red. Sure, you only came to the event to talk to him, but you never thought that you’d actually get Aaron Hotchner to pay attention to you. “I didn’t empathize with the people I was putting in jail,” he told you, his voice ice cold. “That didn’t come until I worked in the BAU, and even now, I wouldn’t call it empathy. Just understanding of how they became the type of person they are.” He leaned sideways on the bar counter and you felt yourself shrink under his gaze. You shifted slightly and felt the hem of your dress move up your thighs ever so slightly. Aaron noticed too, if the lick of his lips was anything to go by.
You took his silence as your signal to ask your question. “You offered Jessica Michaelson a lesser sentence that had her released in just three years despite the fact that she murdered her brother in cold blood in his sleep. You had the evidence, why didn’t you push for premeditation?” you asked, and his eyebrow quirked upwards. “In the case The People vs. Michaelson,” you added unnecessarily, trying to break the silence.
“I know the case you’re referring to. I was the lead on it,” he reminded you, his voice edging on dangerous. “You know, most people aren’t interested in my days as a lawyer.”
You shrugged, hoping to appear more confident than you felt. “I’m not most people,” you agreed, biting down on your lower lip. His gaze was so intense, and it was affecting you in ways you couldn’t have imagined. It was turning you on, you realized with a start. It had been a while since you had last had sex, and it was driving you only slightly crazy. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”
Aaron grabbed a champagne flute from a server walking by, and shoved it in your direction. You grabbed it cautiously. “Did you read the police report on the case?” he asked, and you nodded wordlessly, taking a sip of the champagne. The alcohol was making you bolder, and you stepped towards him. “Then you’ll know that there was very little physical evidence tying her to the muder. We chose to offer the charge that would have stuck instead of risking her being found not guilty.”
You gritted your teeth together in an effort to calm yourself down. “She murdered four people within the six months after she was released from prison,” you reminded him.
That seemed to have struck a chord with Aaron, and his steely persona seemed to fade ever so slightly. He sighed exasperatedly; you were obviously getting on his nerves. “The prints and DNA that were collected and put into VICAP when she was in prison are what got her caught in the end, and that was the evidence needed to lock her away for life. We wouldn’t have gotten those prints without her original charge. It all worked out.”
You groaned and threw your hands in the air. “You couldn’t have predicted that, though,” you argued. “And people have been found guilty with way less evidence than you had in the original case. I think you just felt bad for her, considering her brother was a real piece of shit.” You were being difficult now, you knew that. But there was something about Aaron Hotcher that was pulling you in, and you wanted to see how far you could push him.
Aaron gave you a predatory grin and he stepped towards you ever so slightly, finishing his drink. He must have had multiple drinks too, judging by the soft flush on his face. “Oh, you do?” He seemed amused now. He slowly raked his eyes from your face, down your neck, and down the rest of your body, and you forgot how to breath. You knew that it was inappropriate and that he was a highly respected FBI agent, even if he was kind of an asshole at the moment. You also knew that the two of you were crossing lines that neither of you should have even been close to, but you shivered under the weight of his gaze all the same.
You shifted back and forth, your brain trying to process what was happening. “Yeah, I do. And I know that you transferred to the FBI after Michaelson was arrested again, which makes me think that this case was your breaking point,” you ranted, your hands becoming more and more animated.
Aaron chuckled, but there was very little amusement behind it. “Are you sure you want to be a lawyer?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “Because you’re starting to talk like a profiler.”
You arched an eyebrow at him. “No thanks,” you said firmly, and he just shrugged before making a move to walk past you. You sidestepped in front of him, effectively blocking him from going anywhere. But it was obvious that he was done talking about this.
In your mind, you had two options now. You could keep pushing him about a case that he obviously didn’t want to talk to you about, or you could switch gears in your brain and have him help you solve your... other problem. Aaron was attractive, and you were getting tired of guys your age. You noticed the distinct lack of a wedding ring on his finger, but there was still a tan to show that it had been there. So either he was recently separated or just trying to cheat on his wife. You wanted to not care whichever it was, but a pang in your heart told you to be considerate. Besides, you did not want to get involved with another cheater.
“Must be hard to be at these events without your wife here to scare off all the lonely female law students,” you mused cautiously. You didn’t want to come on too strong, but the alcohol in your system was slowly clouding your ability to be subtle.
Aaron cleared his throat, obviously taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. “I’m not married,” he said, too quickly and too defensively. So he’s separated, you thought, and you stepped closer to him.
His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out your endgame. “Well, I would love to discuss your work as a prosecutor more when there are less… distractions around,” you whispered, your words breathy. “Tell me Agent Hotchner, do I make you nervous?” You sounded a lot more confident than you felt.
Aaron just smirked and grabbed your free hand, covering it in both of his, and the action was surprisingly soft, even if it was way too late for him to try acting suave. His eyes, on the other hand, told a whole other story. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes were practically black. “I face the worst people in society on a daily basis. Desperate law students don’t make me nervous. In fact…” He stepped towards you, looking around to make sure nobody else was looking. Aaron leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear with every word. “I think that I make you nervous. And more than nervous, I make you very excited.”
Your breath hitched as he pulled back, a smug smile gracing his lips. You yanked your hand back to preserve what little dignity you had left, but it was too late. “Now, if you would like to discuss my prosecuting career more in depth, then you can set up a formal meeting with me at the BAU,” he continued, obviously proud of himself and the effect he was having on you. He pulled out a business card and upon further instruction, you realized that it wasn’t even his. Jennifer Jareu the name read. “Our media liaison will be able to help you organize that. Now if you don’t mind, I am going to retire for the night.”
Aaron finished the rest of his drink and brushed past you while you were still trying to get your thoughts under control. “Oh, and you’ll make a wonderful lawyer someday, I’m sure of it,” he called over his shoulder, and that snapped you back into action.
You followed, running around him and cutting him off. “And if I don’t want to discuss your prosecuting career?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. “What if I was interested in a… less formal meeting?”
That was all the permission he needed. Aaron grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the ballroom, the two of you moving so fast that nobody in the room even had a chance to put two and two together. There was an empty hallway just next to the entrance of the room and Aaron pulled you in that direction, pressing you against the wall and kissing you fiercely the second the two of you were alone.
There was nothing gentle about the kiss, but in a strange role reversal, he let you take the lead. It’s certainly not what you expected from Aaron Hotchner who, until now, had been controlling every aspect of your meeting. You realized then that this was his way of making sure you were okay with what was happening- giving you a chance to back out and change your mind. You just answered by tangling your hands in his hair, pulling so that he was at just the right angle to kiss you.
Aaron dug his fingers into your hips, hard enough to make you gasp out. You were definitely going to have bruises the next day, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. He shoved his leg in between yours and tugged on your lip with his teeth, which made you whimper involuntarily. He smirked against your lips, obviously proud of the noises he was drawing from you. You pulled on his hair harder as a sign of irritation, but that seemed to only make him more amused as he pulled away to laugh into your neck.
“Are we just going to make out against a wall like we’re back in high school, or are you going to actually do something worth my time?” you breathe, fighting to keep your voice even and light. It only halfway worked as he dragged his tongue up your neck to your pulse point. And then he bit down, hard.
It took everything in your power to stay quiet, especially as he softly kissed the newly forming bruise. His attack on your neck was relentless as he pulled your hips and back forth against his thigh. You whimpered as you desperately tried to get any friction from the simple movement. Your skirt was now dangerously close to being pushed so far up your legs that you would be completely exposed.
You pulled away first- you had to or your legs were going to completely give out from under you. You desperately tried to get your breathing under control and, to your annoyance, he looked perfectly composed. The only thing giving him away was his slightly swollen lips.
His fingers trailed up your thigh, getting so close to where you want him. “What would you like me to do then?” he asked easily, his voice almost sounding bored. You were speechless, like your brain had just short circuited. There were a lot of things you wanted him to do, but the words were lost on the tip of your tongue. “If you want something, you have to ask for it.” That was a demand, and he punctuated it by pressing his thigh further into you. You were sure he was going to have a wet spot on his slacks. He took the hand not in between your legs and grabbed your jaw forcefully, his thumb resting on your bottom lip. “Use your words, little girl.”
You realize that the two of you were standing on the edge of a cliff, and you had the power to decide whether or not to jump over. It gave you a strange sense of power. Logically, you knew it was a bad idea. He was too old for you, obviously going through some sort of relationship trauma, and wasn’t somebody you could talk to your friends and family about. But the less rational side wanted him so badly it hurt. You wanted him more than you’ve wanted anything or anyone in a long time.
You noticed your strawberry colored lipstick was smudged ever so slightly on the corner of his mouth, and that’s all it took for you to jump off the side of the cliff. “I want you to drag me into the empty classroom just down the hall and fuck me senseless. I want you to use me,” you moan before taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking.
The look on his face is something you’ll never forget. There was a mix of shock and arousal, but also something primitive; His eyes darkened when you told him to use you, and there was a fluttering in your stomach. You couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or dread. Maybe even both.
He removed his hands from your mouth and legs, only to place his hand on the small of your back. He began walking towards the classroom you had pointed out, much too slow for your liking, but he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re going to regret asking me to use you,” he practically growls in your ear, each word increasing your arousal. “Are you one of those lonely female law students you warned me about? So desperate and needy for a real man to bend you over a table and fuck you until you can’t walk straight? Ready and willing to whore yourself out for the first man who gives you a second glance?”
Your breath hitched as you stuttered out your answer. “Y-yes, Agent Hotchner,” you whispered as he opened the classroom door and guided you in.
As soon as the door was shut and locked, he was back on your lips again, lifting you so that you were sitting on one of the desks with your legs wrapped around his waist. “Call me Aaron,” he mumbled in between kisses, and you were all too happy to oblige.
You were a moaning mess at this point as his hands pushed your dress up to your waist. His hands and lips were somehow everywhere at once and you were so hot and all you could think about was getting your damn dress off, but Aaron seemed to have other plans.
He ran his fingers up your lace covered slit and he just chuckled into your lips. “You’re so wet for me, already,” he groaned and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. “And I’ve barely touched you. Do my words really have that much effect on you? Do you like it when I call you a whore?”
He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and quickly pulled them down. You could feel his bulge pressing against you and all you could think about was how badly you wanted it. How badly you wanted him. Your hands moved down his chest to make quick work of his belt, and his pants followed after.
“Please, please Aaron,” you begged, desperately trying to create some friction against him. His fingers tangled in your hair and he pulled your head back so that you were looking at him.
“You’re so pretty when you beg.” His fingers slowly ran up your slit, not enough to give you any pleasure. He was teasing you and enjoying every second of it. “And I wish I could take my time with you. The things I want to do to you…” Two of his fingers entered you and you cried out loudly. “But somebody could walk in on us at any second. I’m sure they can all hear you moaning like a dirty whore, all for me. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? So desperate for my attention and approval.”
His words turned you on more than you would have liked to admit. “Yes, Aaron yes. Please-” you were cut off by Aaron curling his fingers, hitting that spot that made you want to scream out in pleasure. But all too soon, they were gone.
He inspected his fingers, which were now covered in your juices, before bringing them to your mouth. “Suck,” he ordered, and you eagerly complied, wrapping your lips around his fingers and moaning at the taste of yourself. “I’ll just have to fuck you quickly here, and then you’ll be begging for more next time,” he groaned and finally- finally- entered you.
He didn’t give you time to adjust to him, thrusting roughly into you. He removed his fingers from your mouth and brought his hand to your neck. He didn’t put any pressure, but he wanted you to know that he could and would if you decided to get mouthy with him.
Your hands gripped the edge of the desk you were sitting on, your knuckles turning white. Your eyes started to close in pleasure as his hips slammed into yours, but they shot open as he tightened his grip on your throat. “Look at me. I want to see you when you cum,” he ordered, and you nodded the best you could.
“Yes sir!” you cried out, unsure of what else to say.
Seemingly satisfied with your answer, Aaron released your throat and moved his hand down so that he was stimulating your clit. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten as your legs started to twitch. Aaron took this as motivation to slam into you even harder, relishing each time you gasped out his name.
His pace was unforgiving, leaving you gasping for air. Keeping your eyes open was a challenge, but you were able to do it with his soft mutters of praise. “Even brats like you can be good girls,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. “You just need somebody to fuck it into you.”
You were unable to respond coherently, so you just settled on begging even more, although you weren’t sure what you were begging for exactly. Aaron seemed to know, and he sped up his fingers against your clit. You wanted to scream out for him, but your voice wasn’t working. “What did I say before?” he asks roughly. “If you want something, ask for it.”
“Please… please can I cum?” you cried out, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. “Please let me cum around your cock!”
He nodded in approval and you had to muffle yourself in his neck to keep quiet. He fucked you through your orgasm, the overstimulation almost too much, but it wasn’t long before he was moaning your name, and you felt him fill you.
The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, both breathing heavily as the situation started to sink in. You just let a guy almost 15 years older than you that you just met fuck you in an empty classroom, and you really enjoyed it. Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he was going through a full crisis.
He pulled out of you slowly, and you winced at the feeling. He pulled up his pants quickly. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, looking around the empty classroom. “I don’t have anything good to clean you up with.” A box of kleenex caught his eye and he grabbed a few tissues. It was better than nothing.
You chuckled nervously and waved it off. “It’s fine,” you promised, your voice coming out shakier than you expected, but he ignored you. He wiped the mess dripping down your thighs. You were cold. He must have noticed, because he took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.
“Are you okay?” Aaron asked softly, and it was a full 180 from the way he had just been talking to you.
“I’m great,” you admitted honestly. “Seriously, that was… great.”
Aaron smiled at you- the first real smile he had given you all night. “It wasn’t too much?” he confirmed, and you suddenly remembered what he had said to you earlier. ...then you’ll be begging for more next time. Was he planning on a next time? You wouldn’t have minded it.
You shook your head and slowly slid off the table. You took one of the tissues and wiped up the mess that was left on the table. “Not at all. In fact, I could take more. Next time.” Your voice was light and airy. Aaron watched as you picked your underwear off the floor. There was no way you were putting those back on, not when you had no idea when the floor was last cleaned.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he teased, eyeing you carefully.
“Well I can’t keep it if I only have your media liaison’s number,” you reminded him, your eyebrow raised. Aaron chuckled and pulled out another business card, except this time it was his. You plucked the card out of his hands and inspected it carefully. “I’ll call you sometime. You can do all those other things we didn’t have time to do.” You were on your tiptoes now, whispering in his ear. “You know… my mouth can do a lot more than just ask for things.” As you spoke, you slipped your panties into his back pocket. You just laughed as you heard a soft gasp escape his lips.
You made your way towards the door, your legs wobbling dangerously underneath you. You were sure that you looked like a mess, but you didn’t care. All that mattered to you was Aaron Hotchner’s eyes glued to your ass. “Get home safe,” he told you and you let yourself smile. Maybe it was a bad idea to start sleeping with a recent divorcee, but the sex was great and you both knew where you stood with the other person. No feelings, just fucking out your frustrations and stress.
Oh yeah, coming to this event was definitely a good call on your part.
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner smut#my best habit#my writing
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