#I volunteered a few hours at least once a week for…several years
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Five donation beanies!
#beanies#sewing#handmade#I miss volunteering#I volunteered a few hours at least once a week for…several years#working with toddlers and preschoolers#and before that I’d volunteer a day at least a few times a year helping people move or with community cleanup projects#and with covid and my health issues I can’t volunteer anymore#and I miss being able to feel like I was helping my community#so…I guess that’s why I like making things for charity auctions and to donate to shelters so much#I can’t volunteer in person anymore and I might never be able to#but I can do this! five more people are going to have warm beanies this winter
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
so I’ve been gaining a lot of insight into the animation industry recently, especially in regards to pitching & the creation of new shows. There’s a few ways to go about it.
First, there’s pitching to a studio. When you pitch, it has to be SHORT and CONCISE. You may write a lovingly detailed pitch bible that perfectly breaks down episodes and characterizations, and it might barely even get read. First impressions, first impressions, first impressions!
Most peoples’ first projects don’t get picked up. I’ve heard a few stories from directors that said they tried pitching a story they’d had for years, which got rejected, to then spend a week or even several hours in their car coming up with a new idea, only for that to get greenlit.
But that’s not the end of it. Just because a show gets greenlit, doesn’t mean it will ever get finished. There’s lots of things that can happen. Sometimes, unexpected major world events (like… a global pandemic) can cause projects to get chopped. Sometimes, a CEO change or studio merge means a single person can decide a project “no longer fits with the company’s brand.” Sometimes, the one producer that was rooting for your project gets laid off, and no one else cares enough, so it gets shelved. Sometimes, a streaming service decides to create an animation department, and then they decide they don’t want it anymore. Sometimes, the studio will be simultaneously be developing another project that was too similar to yours and they just didn’t think to tell you until they decide yours is the one with less potential.
On top of that, almost everyone in the industry is saying that “studios just don’t pick up original content anymore.” Studios want something they can franchise, something that will bring in money. New content is risky. Established fanbases are safer.
However! Studios can still be a very good thing. They can be unionized. They can provide better benefits and resources. They can have connections and infrastructure and a larger volume of workers. At a studio, you can divide the labor and produce more in less time. Longer episodes, longer seasons, more consistency in quality.
But this comes with all of the disadvantages of having more in the kitchen.
The alternative is indie animation.
With indie animation, you have total freedom. Full artistic control. It doesn’t even matter if your idea sucks ass, because there’s no one to tell you you can’t make it. You could make it anyway, and you can make it whatever you wanted.
The thing is, making animation is hard. In my production class last semester, the average maximum animation one person could make in that timeframe was 30-60 seconds, and that’s not even counting background design, sound design, or cleanup/color. To make a 5 minute animated short, you should probably have at least 5 people.
And it is CRUCIAL you have a production manager. Ideally someone who’s not already doing art for the project. Most projects without a production manager will fall apart pretty quickly. Once the adrenaline and impulse-fueled motivation wears off, you need someone to hold you accountable and enforce deadlines and proper time management.
Speaking of time, that’s also hard to get. The more people you have, the more likely schedules won’t line up. Most people will have school, or other jobs.
And it costs MONEY!!!!!! You either have everyone work for free and volunteer their time & energy, or you establish a business as a proper indie studio, with people who may or may not have experience on how to handle paying someone else’s salary. And the money has to come from somewhere, so you have to rely on crowdfunding like patreon or kickstarter. (This, by the way, is why I could never fault an indie animation for releasing merch with their pilot.)
And like, maybe you wanna do a series, and all your friends agree to volunteer their labor and time to make the first episode, but it was unanimously not sustainable. Deciding not to produce a second episode until you can raise enough money is not being suddenly greedy, it’s attempting to compensate people rather than expecting them to be continuously taken advantage of.
You have to consider your output as well. There are some outliers like Worthikids, who afaik does all his animation himself, and afaik can work on it full-time thanks to his patreon subscribers. And he still has only produced a total of 30 minutes of animation (for Big Top Burger specifically) in the past 4 years. This is an IMPRESSIVE feat and this is with using a lot of 3D as part of his pipeline!!
Indie animation also has the complication of being more accessible for fandoms. When you’re posting your Official Canon Content on youtube, it doesn’t look a lot different than the fandom-created video essay in the sidebar next to it. What’s canon vs what’s fanon becomes less distinguishable. The boundaries are blurrier. When the creator is just some guy you follow on twitter, it’s easier to prod them for info regarding ships and theories and word-of-god confirmation. They don’t have a PR team or entire international tv networks to appeal to. And this is when creators get frustrated that their fans snowball and turn their creation into something they don’t recognize (and no longer enjoy) anymore.
So it’s tricky.
Thankfully, the threshold to learn animation is fairly low nowadays!! There are TONS of resources online to learn it on your own without forking over a couple hundred thousand to a private art college. There are conventions and discord servers and events where you can network, if you know where to look.
I know it can seem discouraging in the face of capitalism, but I think that’s all the more reason why it’s so important to BE DETERMINED about animation!! We’re already starting to see the beginning of an indie animation boom, and I think it’s a testament to humanity’s desire to tell stories and create art. Even if there’s no financial gain, we do whatever it takes to tell our stories anyway.
#animation#2d animation#indie animation#long post#not 100% sure why I made this post#all this to say: I’m still not sure what direction I want to go towards for my own show#ngl!! i think im confident i could get people to like my show. i think I could find an audience#i have some experience at this point getting people to like my ocs#its just a matter of MAKING the damn thing
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Camp Counselor Munson
paring ✦ Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
summary ✦ You’ve been attending summer camp since forever. This year a new camp counselor joins, it’s Eddie. You’re the cheer captain, he’s the town freak. What could possibly happen between you two?Modern AU Contains smut
word count ✦ 4,800ish
authors note ✦ I love Eddie so much ): this took me forever for whatever reason lol hope y’all enjoy
masterlist
FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!!
⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹
This was your seventh year attending Camp Summer Haven. You've been here a few weeks out of every summer vacation since you were 11. Now at 18 years old, headed into your senior year of high school, you were too old to be just an attendee. Since you turned 16 you have been volunteering as a camp counselor. All you really had to do was make sure the six girls you were in charge of didn't miss activities and they made it through the two weeks alive.
You had grown to love this place it was an escape from the real world. Two whole weeks with friends you only seen once a year. With the no phone rule you were able to make actual connections with these people. As the cheer captain at Hawkins a lot of your friendships felt forced. For two weeks you weren’t one of the most popular girls, just another girl at camp. A few of the kids also went to your school but as you got older they stopped showing up. Which you were grateful for, you already spent all school year around them. That was more than enough for you.
"Okay guys, go get settled in your cabins," Trevor, one of the camp leaders, announces to the group of camp counselors in front of him, you included.
"The kids should be here in an hour. When they arrive please make your way to the entrance building so we can get the kids split up between everyone." He explains, passing out the cabin keys. You all nod in agreement before he takes off. Your key lets you know you'd be staying in the Cabin nine, the one the farthest away from everything. Great you mumble to yourself, annoyed.
"Yes! I got cabin two." Jessie cheers.
"Which one did you get?" She asks when she notices your sour attitude.
"Nine," You groaned. Everyone knew that cabin nine was the farthest away so usually the most neglected. Also rarely did it entice camp leaders to make the trek out there. Meaning you could possibly get away with more but that didn't matter because you never tried to get away with anything especially with six kids staying with you.
"Sorry chica," Jessie laughs.
"I'll be fine. Just late to everything." You joke back. You two had gotten extremely close several summers back.
"Well once you get settled in were all gonna meet up at the rec hall and catch up till the kids get here." She smiles when you agree and then you both part ways. Making the long walk to cabin nine.
—
About thirty minutes later your on your way to the rec hall. You changed into your Camp Haven get up. A t-shirt with the green and orange logo and the matching shorts. As a camp counselor you had a few different options to wear, you usually wore the shorts because if you were being entirely honest you liked the way you ass looked in them.
When you enter into the rec hall a few of the girls are standing around in a circle, whispering.
"What are we talking about?" You ask infiltrating their group discussion.
"The newest camp leader." Jessie chimes, her tone of voice leading you to believe he must be hot. You follow her finger where she points to Trevor speaking to the long haired, tattooed camp leader.
"Oooh," you coo agreeing with Jessie, he was fine. At least from behind, his jean so perfectly hugging his butt.
"What do we know? What's his name?" You ask, needing to know all details.
"His paperwork said Edward." Lucy answers your question, she spent most of her time helping in the office so she was the go to for all information.
"That's a ugly name." Lacey laughs. Lucy and Lacey were basically twins always attached at hips. Blonde hair, blue eyes; borderline perfect.
"Maybe he goes by Eddie." Jessie suggests and that's when all the pieces start to connect. You groan outwardly when you realize its none other than Eddie Munson. The long haired "freak" who would make a fool of him self on a daily bases at school.
"What?" Jessie asks at your groan.
"He goes to my school."
"No fucking way." Jessie chirps, all the girls attention on you now.
"Unfortunately yes."
"Girl he is so fine. Why are you so distraught?" Lucy asks, puzzled by my reaction.
"If you went to school with him you'd understand." You tried not to judge anyone but its pretty hard when he's jumping on lunch tables hissing at the jocks, some your friends unfortunately.
"Whatever. I call dibs." Lucy laughs and you listen as they all argue over who gets to claim him. Lucy was known for sleeping around with the male counselors, rumors starting when she was 15. So she'd probably get him, she always got what she wanted.
The bickering comes to a halt when Trevor leads Eddie to the group of girls to introduce him. "Girls this is Eddie he'll be our newest Camp Leader. He’s going to be heading a guitar class.”
You watch the girls as they introduce themselves all basically throwing them selves at Eddie. You can’t help but roll your eyes at them only for your attention to be drawn back to Trevor when he calls on you.
“He says he’s goes to Hawkins, isn’t that where you go?” Your eyes move from Trevor to Eddie, who’s already staring at you.
“Yes it is.” You smile making eye contact with Eddie. You had never been this close before, his eyes were breathtaking. So much that you don’t hear Trevor’s words so he says your name again this time louder.
“Sorry what?” You ask face red giving your full attention to Trevor.
“I was saying maybe you could show him around.” You nod in agreement, eyes wondering to Eddie once again. He’s actively listening to Trevor explain whatever he’s explaining. You’re too busy admiring Eddie’s features up close to listen to the words. Only to be startled when he snaps his eyes towards you, smiling because he caught you staring at him.
“Oh I think I left your cabin key in the office. Follow me and I’ll grab it for you." Trevor says to Eddie before instructing you to stay put so Eddie can find you when they’re done. You nod yes before they leave you alone with the girls again.
“What the fuck was that?” Jessie laughs the question obviously directed at you.
“What?” You ask playing dumb.
“You we’re one second away from full on drooling.” She says, everyone’s eyes on you.
“Sorry he’s so pretty?” You say as a question.
“He was totally checking you out.” Lacey says while Lucy looks pissed.
"Does not matter I called dibs." Lucy snorts.
"You can't call dibs on a whole ass human." Jessie responds, her tone annoyed.
"Still doesn't matter not like he'd want anything to do with her." Lucy says like your not standing right there. Before you can respond for yourself Jessie speaks over you going off on her. Out of the corner of your eye you see Eddie let himself back into the room, the other girls entirely unaware. You make your way towards him leading back out the door he just came through.
“What was that about?” He asks, backpack and a sports bag in hand.
“Just Lucy be her usual terrible self. She’s kind of the worst.” You admit.
“She gives off that vibe.” He laughs, the two of you walking down the dirt walkway.
“We’ll you better be careful your her next victim.” He looks at you confused.
“She called dibs on you.” You further explain.
“Dibs on me?”
“She wants you. Thinks your so fine.” You laugh mocking her bitchy tone.
“I’m good.” He laughs.
“Good.” You say before asking which cabin he got stuck in.
“So what brings you to Camp Summer Haven? You’ve never gave off summer camp energy?” You ask, leading him to his cabin.
“Joey at the music store told me I could make extra cash this summer teaching kids to play guitar.” He explains.
“You’re getting paid?” You ask acting like your upset.
“You’re not?” He asks.
“No I’ve been going here since I was ten now I volunteer.” You explain.
“You don’t give off summer camp energy either.” He responds.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” You smile, walking ahead of him.
—
Eddie follows you around as you show him to his cabin. Where he unloads all his belongings while you sit outside waiting. After that you continue your tour highlighting all the most important places.
“This is the cafeteria. If you’re ever in need of a late night treat I can teach you how to sneak in through a window in the kitchen.” You motion to the window that sits above the sink, the lock has been broken for years. The camp too oblivious to notice.
“Is that an invite?” He asks.
“Perhaps. Promise you won’t say anything. If they find out the lock is broken I don’t think I could ever forgive you.” You tease, sort of joking.
“I promise.” He laughs.
“Good. The ice cream is to die for.”
—
After your tour is over you two head to the front gate to greet the kids. All the camp leaders and counselors are gathered. Trevor quickly approaches the two of you. The two of them start a conversation while you notice Lucy shooting you a dirty look. You slip away from them to find Jessie. She sits at a picnic table with other people so you join her. Mostly sitting in silence listening to everyone else talk.
Shortly after a couple busses filled with children start to show up. Once they’re all off and waiting, Trevor gives his pre camp speech. Letting the children know to get in a single file line so they can check in, turn their phones in and retrieve their cabin number. You end up with six younger girls. You introduce your self to them and they take turns introducing themselves as you all make the trek to Cabin 9.
“So where’s everyone from?” You ask trying to get to know the kids. They all speak at once, firing off their hometowns. Some of them look familiar from previous years, the oldest whose 15 lets you know she’s from Hawkins too. Her names Mandy.
“Hawkins? Do you go to Hawkins High cause I do and I think I don’t recognize you.” You admit.
“Probably cause your one of those stuck up cheerleaders. No you’re actually the queen of the stupid cheerleaders.” She retorts, her eyes rolling back into her head.
“Okay.. just gonna try my best to not get offended by that.” You laugh as an attempt to lighten to mood.
“Whatever.” She says, attitude apparent in her tone. She doesn’t respond again so you continue to converse with the other girls. Pointing out significant places to know while staying at Camp Summer Haven. Once you arrive to Cabin 9, you continue small talk. The clock on the cabin wall lets you know, it’s nearly time for the first get to together.
Everyone slowly shows up in the recreation center, sitting in circles taking turns saying their name, age and fact about themselves. Switching every five minutes as an attempt to have everyone get to know each other. You catch Eddie more than once staring. Or maybe he was catching you staring at him. Who knows?
“Everyone switch!” Trevor yells, so everyone listens. Your with Jessie’s group now, you quickly make you way to her. She leads the activity as you sit back and let her. The kids begin, one after another. You’re not paying any attention, too busy trying to see if Eddie’s back looking at you.
“Girl Lucy is fuming,” Jessie laughs.
“Why?”
“Because she’s trying to get Eddie’s attention but he’s too busy checking you out.” She says, pointing over to where Lucy is sat. Her annoyed face tells you everything you need to know.
“That’s a shame.” You tease, laughing.
—
Dinner rolls around and your group of girls follows you to the cafeteria where you all wait in line. You notice Eddie’s already here sat at a table. When he catches you he smiles and waves, you shoot him a shy smile. Confused why he’s got you feeling this way.
“Disgusting.” Mandy says to you, actually the first thing she’s said to you in hours.
“What?” You ask.
“The way your practically drooling over him.”
“I’m not.” You lie.
“You totally are.” Another girl chimes in, a few years younger than Mandy.
“It’s okay though, he’s so cute.” She adds causing the other girls into a fit of laughter. Only Mandy doesn’t laugh, rolling her eyes for the millionth time.
The line moves slowly but eventually you have your dinner. You follow the girls to where they want to sit, when in reality you kinda really want to sit near Eddie. Your too distracted following the young one ahead of you to notice, the leg that stretches out to trip you. You fall forward, your plate goes flying as you hit the ground with a loud thud. Silence falls over the room. You look up where the leg came from, it’s none other than Lucy. She’s sat there giggling, along with Lacey.
“You should really watch where your walking.” She snickers as you attempt to pick yourself up off the floor. Her plan backfires entirely because a pair of hands lead you up, your greeted by those chocolate brown eyes you haven’t stopped thinking about since you first seen them today.
“You good?” He asks as you get back on your feet, wiping away the dust that sticks to your shirt.
“I am now.” You say and it comes out more flirty than you had intended. Doesn’t matter because the smile that spreads across his lips makes it all worth it. He helps you clean up the mess Lucy created, walking to the trash can with you.
“Thanks for the help.”
“I saw her trip you.”
“That’s Lucy for you.” You respond, looking over to where she’s sat. Her eyes already on you, giving you the nastiest look.
“What did you do to make her feel the need to trip you?” He asks, bringing your attention back to him. You could either play dumb or tell him the exact truth.
“She’s jealous.” His face tells you he wants to know more.
“She thinks there’s something going on between us. She called dibs, remember?”
“Is there?” He asks, shocking you a tad.
“Maybe.” He nods his head, trying to rack his brain. How he came to some random summer camp only for Hawkins Highs Queen to be here, lowkey flirting with him.
“If there is, maybe you’d want to sit with me for dinner. Really stick it to her.” He teases, you bite your lip thinking. Trying to decide what you should do. If anyone from school knew you were throwing yourself at Eddie “The Freak” Munson it’d be social suicide. For the most part you want to believe that you don’t care what they think.
“Yeah let’s do that.” You respond finally.
“Let me grab another plate and then I’ll be there.” You add before leaving to replace the food that was wasted. Once you’ve done that, you race to Eddie’s table sitting right next to him. You smile at Lucy before letting yourself scoot closer to Eddie. He looks down at you with a smile before continuing his conversation with whoever.
“Really Eddie?” You recognize the voice, it’s Mandy.
“What?” He responds.
“You’re just gonna forgive her? She’s the queen of all the people that treat you like dog shit.”
“Mandy stop.” Eddie demands.
“No it’s bullshit.” Mandy yells before standing up and leaving the table.
“Sorry. She’s my cousin, when her mom found out I was working at this camp. She thought it’d be good for her. If you couldn’t tell she has some anger issues.” He explains.
“She’s right though, my friends are dick heads. I’m sorry.” You contemplate leaving, embarrassed.
“You’ve never been a dick. That’s all that matters.” Eddie says, giving you a reassuring smile. When you can’t come up with a response, he continues.
“You’ve been nothing but kind to me. If you promise not to judge me for what other people have to say about me. I promise to not judge you because of your stupid friends.” You sit momentarily, trying to take in everything he just said.
“Deal.” You respond, smiling. You two continue the conversation with small talk, nothing too deep. Eventually people sit around you guys, taking Eddie’s attention away from you. So you listen and watch Eddie intently when he talks, nodding every so often.
Dinner is over, you and Eddie walk out of the cafeteria. It’s nearly 9pm, time to call it quits for the day.
“So we sneaking in tonight to get some ice cream?” He asks, reminding you that you had offered that earlier in the day.
“Yes let’s meet by the window at 11. Usually by then it’s safe.” You smile before separating. Mandy and the girls follow shortly behind. They are not so quietly whispering about Eddie and you. How they ship the two of you, while Mandy disagrees. Bringing a small smile to your lips, shook that Eddie Munson is the one causing you to be so giddy.
—
11:10
“Where is that-“ You say aloud, getting interrupted and spooked all at the same time. Eddie is finally here.
“Hey,” he smiles, trying his best not to laugh at how he startled you.
“Sorry I’m late. Trevor showed up to my cabin, wanting to talk about tomorrow.” Eddie apologies.
“It’s fine, your here now.” You respond, pushing the window open. It was much easier when you were younger, to slip in. Now you had help because all of a sudden Eddie’s hands are guiding you in. In that moment your extremely grateful he can’t see your face. Realizing quickly your ass is not full display as you climb in. Once in, you jump with a thud off the counter. Turning to face Eddie who has no problem making his way through the window.
“It’s in here,” you speak, walking over to the freezer. Eddie shuts the window before following you. You pull out two ice cream sandwiches. Sitting down, letting your back slide down the wall in the process. You look up to Eddie who’s looking down at you with a smile. Handing the second ice cream sandwich over as his sits down next to you.
Eddie is the first to start eating, you follow his lead. There’s an borderline uncomfortable silence between you two as you realize you two are alone.
“This is some good ice cream.” Eddie speaks up, breaking the silence. You face him, watching him go to town on the ice cream. Bringing a small laugh to you. Before you can even get in a second bite, his is all gone.
“You got something on your face.” You point to the chocolate that sits on his upper lip.
“If this some sick ploy to kiss me, I won’t stop you.” He says with a smug grin.
“Damn I wish I thought of that.” You tease back, taking another bite of your ice cream.
“You convinced me to come to this secluded area, all alone. Dark as fuck. Either you want me or you want to murder me.” He says, your response is laughter. Laughing harder than you laughed in a while. Only stopping when you remember you’re not suppose to be in here.
“I’m gonna murder you actually.” You respond, flatly. Finishing off your ice cream as Eddie talks.
“Makes sense. Hot cheerleader seducing the schools freak for some sick murder ritual, sacrifice type shit.” He let’s out a defeated sigh, sitting back as if he’s ready to be murdered sending you into a fit out laughter again.
“I wasn’t joking though you got something right there.” You say before doing the unthinkable. Something you could of ever imagined yourself doing in a billion years. You close the space between the two of you, pressing your lips into his. Shock radiated through Eddie’s body, causing you to pull away feeling as if you did something bad.
“I’m sorry I thought-“ You apologize.
“No don’t apologize. I was not expecting that. You’re you and I’m me, that doesn’t happen. At least not to me.” He laughs, fixing his posture so he’s sat up.
“Well it did happen.” You say.
“Can it happen again? This time I’ll be ready.” He reassures you with that stupid little grin on his face. With a roll of your eyes, you go in for a second kiss. This time Eddie wastes no time kissing you back, hands finding the back of your head pulling you in deeper. The position isn’t the most comfortable so you hook your leg over the both of his, letting your self sit on him. Hid tongue reaches your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You let it in, your tongues fighting for dominance. His hands move to your hips, pushing you down on his growing boner. A sweet moan leaves your lips at the friction.
“Fuck,” Eddie groans, pulling away from your kiss to catch his breath. Also to attempt to wrap his mind around what happening, he’s in the process of hooking up with Hawkin High head cheerleader. What the actual fuck?
“What?” You asks innocently.
“Are you sure we should be doing this? What if we get caught?” He responds with another question.
“Not Eddie Munson worried about being caught.” You say, laughing still sat in his lap.
“I mean like I was specifically told to not fraternize with the camp volunteers. That’s exactly what this is.” He says, worry in his voice.
“But I want to fraternize with you.” You respond, biting your lip. Worried that maybe you miss read the situation.
“Fuck it,” he says before kissing you again. This time more forcefully, palming the meat of your thighs with his hands. You start grinding ever so slightly on the tent in Eddie’s shorts. The feeling of his hard member feel great between the thin clothes you two wear. Eddie is the one to pull away so he can speak.
“If you keep that up I’m gonna cum.” He admits, his voice breathy.
“Can’t have that yet.” You smile, temporarily backing away from Eddie. You pull at Eddie’s shorts, bring his boxers with them. He sits up quickly in a attempt to help you slide them off easier. Letting them rest at his ankles, you had every intention of riding him. You grasp his cock, pumping it slowly. Watching him squirm under you touch, you’re enjoying this way too much.
“Not fair, you’re not nearly as naked as me.” Eddie pouts his bottom lip. You laugh in response before pulling away from his dick, lifting you shirt up over your head. Eddie reaches around you to unbuckle you bra, watching intently as it falls exposing your tits. Eddie goes blank for a few moments just starting at the view presented in front of him. You shimmy out of your shorts. Your bare body on full display.
“You’re so fucking hot.” He manages to get out, lost for words. Still not believing whats happening right now.
“You can touch me ya know?” You laugh at the fact that’s he’s been sat here gawking at you when he could be touching the real deal. It’s like a light bulb goes off in his head, his brain finally catching up with his eyes. Reaching for you, pulling you back on top of him. His mouth finds you nipple, licking it softly causing a small moan leave your lips. You wet cunt rests on top of his cock, begging for some friction. The sound of your nipple leaving Eddie’s mouth makes a pop sound.
You lift your self up just enough to align his cock with your hole. Eddie watches in amazement as you slowly sit on his cock, letting him fill you up completely. The stretch hurts a bit but you’re taking him so good. His hands rest on your hips, waiting patiently for your next move. You start off slow, grinding on Eddie’s cock. Your hands are on his chest, he’s under you letting obscenities leave his mouth.
You’re pace picks up, Eddie’s hands guiding your hips faster. He starts bucking up into you, hitting you right where it feels the best. Moans continually leave your mouth, letting Eddie know just how good he’s making you feel.
“Get on you back.” He demands, his voice deep. You listen getting off of him and laying on the floor, using your bundle of clothes as a make shift pillow. Before you know it Eddie is between you legs, holding his cock to your entrance. He slams into you, wasting no time pounding into you a brutal pace.
“Play with yourself,” he says and it nearly comes out as a growl. You do exactly what he says, finding you clit with your fingers. Rushing circles around in. The mixture of his relentless pounding and the new clitoral stimulation is almost too much.
“Just like that.” He grunts, switching up his angle ever so slightly. This new angle is just what you needed because shortly after, you’re cumming. Your coming undone on his cock, he never slows only pumps into you harder. Not long before he’s pulling out and finishing on your belly, falling next to you. Both of you lay their in silence for a moment, breathing heavily.
“Fuck,” he says barley audible. You lazily nod in respond unable to respond with words. Eddie stands up throwing his clothes back on, finding something to wipe you clean with. He helps you put your clothing back on, placing a small kiss on your lips one last time.
—
The next day is filled with glances between Eddie and you, whispering to each other in passing. Promises to meet up that night. It turns into an almost nightly event, meeting up in the cafeteria to each ice cream and fuck. Your feelings quickly grow for him, his growing just a fast. The last day of camp ends with you two agreeing to go on a real date once back in Hawkins.
The rest of summer is spent avoiding your friends to be with Eddie in private. Occasionally inviting Mandy along so she can learn to like you, maybe one day. Just a few days ago she came over to watch a movie and didn’t roll her eyes when you spoke. Not even once. You considered that a sign of progress.
Your anxieties grow as the first day of your senior year approaches. Eddie can’t help but wonder what your going to do when school starts up again. Part of him terrified it’ll be the end of you two. You don’t want it to end but you worry what will happen if everyone found out you two were dating. In the end deciding your best bet is to invite Eddie to the last summer party of the year, it’s a annual tradition. The last Saturday before school starts everyone meets at the lake, gets drunk and makes fools of themselves.
“You sure you want to do this?” Eddie asks noticing your stress.
“Yeah I do.” You attempt to smile reassuringly, failing in the process. You two are sat in his van, the party is going on in front of you. It’s not too late to dip, no one’s noticed you yet.
“It’ll be okay.” You say, not believing your own words. Eddie hops out of the van before you can you get out, you hear the sound of a jock approaching the van.
“What the fuck are you doing here Munson?” You quickly hop out, approaching the two men. More basketball players appearing. Walking up behind Eddie, you intertwine your fingers tightly squeezing tightly.
“He’s here with me.” You respond, everyone looking at you like your crazy. Ignoring them you walk right past, Eddie follows behind you closely. Towards the bonfire you see some of your friends, they’re cheerleaders too.
“Hey…” Their voices trail off when they see who’s with you.
“Y’all know Eddie right? He’s my boyfriend.” You say, smiling softly. He waves to your friends, they’re unsure if they should believe this.
“Interesting duo.” One responds.
“How’d you meet?” Another asks, eyes full of judgement. You explain politely. Their faces tell you all you need to know. They don’t approve of your new relationship. No one brave enough to tell the head cheerleader. After a short time of small talk, you find a seat for you and Eddie near the fire.
“That wasn’t so bad.” He says. You lay you head on his shoulder, hand finding his.
“They’ll come around.” You smile.
“And if they don’t?”
“They will. They just need to get to know you, learn to appreciate you like I do.” You explain, kissing Eddie publicly for the first time. Not realizing in the moment that everyone’s eyes are on you two, whispering about the cheerleader dating the town freak.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson pov#eddie imagine#eddie x reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie smut#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x y/n#eddie x you#eddie the freak munson#munson smut
596 notes
·
View notes
Text
Predator and Prey: Chapter One
Pairing: Tommy Cahill x Reader
Ongoing Series - Loosely based on ‘Sleeping With the Enemy’
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Minors do not interact, Slow Burn, War Inaccuracies, Mention of PTSD but barely, Stalking, Abuse, Sexual Themes, Alcohol, I think that’s it?
Summary: You move to a small town following a bad breakup around the time Tommy goes to Prison, 3 years later you meet and build a relationship, but will your jealous, angry ex ever really let you go?
Notes: Hiiii! This is my first fic since I was like, 13? So apologies if I’ve missed anything! I’m also UK based trying to write as an American so writing styles and words may differ, but I do try! I just feel like we need more Jake Gyllenhaal fics, and I love a slow burn and some thrills so enjoy! Reblogs and comments welcome :)
—————————————————
You groaned as your phones alarm clock chimed on your bedside table, the repetitive high pitched dings already putting you in a bad mood for the day.
You slammed your hand on your phone and blindly prodded the screen in the hopes of turning it off, eventually managing to hit the correct spot.
You lay in your dark room, preparing yourself to get up and out of bed for your day of work. It was only Tuesday but it had already been a long week.
After getting dressed, brushing your teeth and hair, and putting on a little bit of makeup, you set out the door. It was still dark out and the only light illuminating the street ahead was from the old street lights that lined the pavement.
The walk to work was only 10 minutes long, but that morning it felt a lot longer, as you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on you. You turned around to check if anyone was around several times, finding nothing but the odd cat or trash can lining the street.
You eventually made it to work and had enough time to make yourself a cup of coffee before flipping the ‘Closed’ sign to ‘Open’.
The day was slower than normal with very few customers walking into your little book store, which was something you could understand with the town being as small as it was, but you had a few regular book worms who would frequent your shop due to the lack of a library in the area. You bided your time by straightening the shelves and readjusting the pillows on the couches in each of the cosy corners by the windows, counting down the minutes and hours until you could close up and go home to your dog, just to do it all again the next day.
On Wednesday evenings your store played host to a soup kitchen due to the large prep area in the back, as your store was once a small Chinese Restaurant before you bought it. You’d agreed to it being used when your store was closed but soon found yourself volunteering to help chop up vegetables and serve, and you enjoyed it more than you thought you would, making it a recurring Wednesday tradition, so at least tomorrow you’d have something to keep yourself busy with.
It wasn’t all bad though, the time you had on your hands. Most afternoons once you had closed up shop, you’d take your dog, Jet, down to the local park to play fletch. Or you’d catch up on your own reading, or try a new recipe only for it to cost you more than takeout and taste nothing like what you’d hoped. It did get lonely though, with the only family you had living on opposite ends of the country, at times you’d considered moving closer to them, but you’d come to love the little town you’d stumbled across 3 years ago.
You’d only moved here from New York when your breakup with Jason had reached boiling point, with him knowing all of your friends, rumours about you soon spread and it became unbearable to stay. He had started stalking you and had your friends keep tabs on everywhere you went, eventually you even opted to forego all social interactions. You had welcomed the fresh start, and once you’d blocked Jason’s number you could finally begin to move on.
One time he had written you a letter after having found your new address on a piece of mail with your forwarding address attached, which somehow made its way to your old apartment instead. The letter was full of threats, demeaning words and also promises of a better life if you returned, but you dismissed these as empty threats, threw away the letter and got on with creating your new life.
You were just about to close up shop early, when the ding of the bell above the door sounded. You turned around to see a tall, dark haired man with a buzzcut, white t-shirt and a brown jacket walk in. You noticed a small tattoo on his neck.
“Hi, are you after anything specific?” You asked with a small smile, trying not to seem overbearing.
The man smiled politely, but didn’t maintain eye contact for long, and went back to scanning the low shelves near the front door.
“No I’m fine, thank you though.” He said. His voice was deep and gruff, and his eyes crinkled when he smiled.
“Okay, just let me know if you need anything.” You smiled back, and turned back to the counter where you were organising receipt rolls and pens. You hated it when you went into a store to browse and the staff lingered, so had never done this to your own customers, giving them space.
After a minute or two, the man cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Actually, sorry, yeah. I’m after a book on PTSD, like how to manage it and stuff, do you have anything like that?” He said, rubbing the back of his head as he looked up at you sheepishly.
Oh, perhaps he was one of those army guys, who had seen some horrible things in the war.
“Uhh, yeah we do actually. It’s just overrr…. Here!” You said walking over to a shelf on the left of the store, under the “self help” section.
“We only have the one though, I’m not sure if it will be much help?” You said handing him the book.
“Thanks.” He said, taking the book and scanning over the cover, “It’s not for me.” He added, looking awkward.
“Say no more.” You smiled and laughed a little to ease the tension he may have been feeling.
You walked back to the counter and waited for the man to follow. He took out a twenty dollar bill and waited for you to ring up how much the book would cost. You thought for a moment, and decided to do your one good thing that day.
“Uhh…. It looks like we don’t actually have the book in our system, and no price is showing up, I guess it’s free.” You lied, laughing lightly and pushing his twenty back to him.
The man thought for moment and looked you in the eye. “You really don’t need to do that, I promise the book’s not for me anyway. It’s for my brother.” He shrugged.
“Well then I guess your brother gets a free book.” You smiled, putting the book in a paper bag and handing it to the man.
He smiled, a genuine and slightly crooked smile, and thanked you. He took one last look at you and went to head out the door.
“Wait!” You called suddenly, your bravery getting the best of you. He turned around.
“I haven’t seen you around before, are you local?” You asked.
“Yeah… I’ve been away for a while. My names Tommy.” He smiled.
“Nice to meet you Tommy. I’m (Y/N), hope to see you around.” You smiled back, and turned to go back to your tidying.
Tommy left feeling happier than he had in a while. He hadn’t had a friendly encounter with the towns folk since coming out of prison, or with his family since Sam came back from Afghanistan and the news had come out that he and Grace had kissed.
Tommy didn’t have feelings for Grace, not real feelings anyway, and he realised this once Sam returned. Tommy chalked it up to the grief they both felt having thought he had died, as well as the happiness he felt when he was in a family environment. No, the only feelings Tommy had for Grace now were guilt, and he struggled to be around them.
He had decided to buy a book on how to manage PTSD so he knew how to handle Sam, who was due to come home from his stay at the psychiatric unit. Tommy felt sad that things had become so hard for Sam, and he was determined to not make things any worse.
Your act of kindness towards Tommy had turned a bad day around, and as he drove home that evening, he couldn’t help but think about the warm smile and beautiful eyes that he found at the little bookstore on the corner.
You had just closed up the shop, and began to walk home as the light dipped behind the horizon, casting the sky in a blue haze, the street lights had since flickered on and you watched your shadow grow large and then small as you passed under each one. Jet’s dog walker would have left around 3 hours ago and you bet he’d be itching for another walk, so hurried as fast as you could.
About a block from home you stopped suddenly as your breath caught in your throat and your heart sped up. You could hear footsteps close behind, and the they were closing the gap between you quickly. You spun around prepared to come face to face with an attacker or someone hoping to snatch your measly purse, but were met with an empty sidewalk dimly lit by street lamps and lined with trees.
You strained your eyes for any movement, but eventually convinced yourself you were being paranoid, and speed walked the rest of the way home, only letting your breath go once you were safely inside and you had locked your door.
———————
-Chapter Two Here-
#jake gyllenhaal#jake gyllenhaal gif#quentin beck#character: elwood dalton#david loki#gyllenhaaledit#jake gyllenhaal gifs#jacob gyllenhaal#jacob benjamin gyllenhaal#donnie darko#jack twist#pilot kelson#jake gyllenhaal x reader#Tommy Cahill x reader
93 notes
·
View notes
Note
Your whole page has been filled with excuses and reasons why you believe you were right not to vote/ vote for 3rd party.
What do you do in your spare time to revolt against the oppressive system outside of Tumblr?
If not voting, then what are you actively doing?
first of all, i live in missouri. i don't need to make "excuses". i voted in everything but the presidential election and Kamala lost Missouri by over half a million votes. as i expected. so i'm not exactly who i'm supposed to be making excuses for?
furthermore, i also told every single person following me for the last year that they should vote for Kamala if they felt that was the right thing to do. i never once told anyone to vote third party or not to vote. so again, i have no reason to make excuses for myself or anyone else.
second of all, this question is phrased in a way that suggests that someone railing against capitalism online is somehow incompatible with taking actions in your actual, real life to try and improve things. i don't think they're synonymous, but i'm open to being proven wrong.
that being said, i really don't owe anyone a list of my "revolutionary actions" in exchange for my right to say whatever i want on my own blog. however, to help other people who might be reading me responding to your (maybe a tiny bit condescending) question and because i keep being asked this question, here are some things that i do in my own city to try and build community:
i spend 6-9 hours a month at the St. Louis Area Foodbank doing miscellaneous volunteer stuff, mainly packing and sorting
last winter, i made 24 boxes of meals with rice, protein and veggies and handed them out on my block
my local city council meets on the 2nd and 4th Monday of every month - i try to make it to at least one if not both meetings to understand what's happening and what they're focusing on
i try to maintain and keep the Little Free Libraries and Little Free Pantrys in my area stocked with educational and inclusive materials. i've reblogged a post about this before.
i am no longer a dues paying DSA member but i try to attend at least 2 meetings or community actions a month
i canvassed for Cori Bush in August for her primary but unfortunately she lost
i helped for a week on the ground during the spring to solicit signatures for Amendment 3 to get it on the ballot and i did a few hours of phone banking for Planned Parenthood to try and spread the word on Amendment 3 a few weeks ago (it passed)
i had to stop in the last 3 months because i got laid off in July and no longer have a lot of disposable income, but i've donated hundreds of dollars to various local charities, GoFundMes, mutual aid requests, etc.
this was 4 years ago and as a general rule, i do not take pictures at direct actions. however, this was taken by someone from a newspaper and my face isn't showing, so whatever. if there is a direct action to attend, i am generally there - especially if it is related to police brutality, racism, LGBTQIIA+ activism or Palestine. i have been to several.
i don't know if you need more examples or if this is sufficient, but i can probably come up with a few other things that i'm passively involved in or haven't had the time to do in a while if you really need more. i hope this was helpful.
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fall 2024: Achievements, Goals, and Thoughts
[Crossposted from my Patreon]
The fall equinox is just around the corner, heralding the arrival of one of my favorite times of year (although our arthritis and its poor relationship with the cold certainly begs to differ). With a new season on the horizon, I wanted to get my bearings on where we're at, where we're going, and our thoughts about all of it.
Achievements. 💡
We were volunteer staff and lecturers at this year's OtherCon! We co-lectured the Alterhumans & Relationships panel with our husband Thomas, which involved going over some of the data gleaned in our Alterhumans & Relationships Survey. We also assisted with the data collection and visualization for our partner Orion Scribner's massive survey, boasting over 1,200 respondents, which was used in their OtherCon lecture Phantom Limbs and Phantom Sensations, Human and Otherwise.
The Alterhuman Archive has reached over 1,400 entries. This is not something that would have been possible without the incredible help of the other archivists and curators working on the project--our friend Nova, our partner system House of Chimeras, and our partner Orion just to name a few--but it's an absolutely phenomenal and unbelievable milestone to reach.
This year's first Centaurus Festival was a massive hit, with 150 people registering and a peak attendance of 134 people. There were 11 panels in total, not including movie showings. Once again not a project I could have wrangled on my own without the incredible support of my friends and the staff team.
Goals. ✒️
Inky Paws #3 has been put on the back burner for a significant part of this year while college and my job took precedence, but I'm set and determined to once again have it published by or before December 31st.
Retail Werewolf is a comedy-fantasy solo RPG about being--you guessed it!--a werewolf stuck in a awful and fantastical retail job, where you're just trying to get through your shift without mauling someone. It's something that I've had in the works for a few weeks now. It's around half-way to completion, and I hope to have it done in time for Black Friday.
The Centaurus Festival website, Discord, and Tumblr need to be updated in preparation for next year. I've already touched base with the staff team on this, and I'd theoretically like to have at least the website updated before the equinox. (With that said, I'm working 55 hours this week, have at least 15 hours of college work left to push through, and will be celebrating my four-year anniversary with House of Chimeras, so we'll see if that timetable holds.)
Thoughts. 💭
We were extremely disappointed to see NaNoWriMo's stance in favor of generative AI earlier this year. If you don't know what debacle we're referring to, I made a short post on my Dreamwidth about it, and several news organizations have written deep-dive articles discussing and dissecting the matter such as Slate's Inside the Heated Controversy That’s Tearing a Writing Community Apart. We grew up writing with NaNoWriMo, and we even won the challenge in 2013 with a cheesy horror story that will never see the light of day and again in 2021 with The Sol System’s Alterhuman Writing Project, where we wrote an alterhuman-themed piece for each day in November. But with that said, the enormous outpouring of support for archiving and creation that we've seen at both OtherCon and the Centaurus Festival and our own past success with NaNo for writing about alterhuman topics make us wonder if it might not be time to reclaim November, which also conveniently happens to be the month in which Therianthropy Day is celebrated, and create an alterhuman writing event or group for it. Let us know your thoughts on this idea, or if you're feeling like you want to take a whack at it yourself!
And on that note, we really want to see people rally and support some of the major community projects out there more-- things like the Otherkin Wiki, AnOtherWiki, Otherkin News, Radiant Obscurities, and similar! We also want people to feel more assured in their own capabilities to create projects themselves, either collaboratively or alone. Seeing Nova's plans for HowlCon next year is incredibly exciting.
In sadder thoughts and news on projects, we must all bid a sad farewell to Project Shift and the Werelibrary, which are currently no longer being maintained. These resources were some of my favorite when I was a high school otherkin over a decade ago, and were also a major inspiration for my creation of the Alterhuman Archive. Although some of the works hosted on them may have been dated, these sites will be sorely missed.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
One of the college admission essays I wrote in 2007... or "how I downplayed the amount of trauma I was going through and masked so fucking hard to get into college"
The inhabitants of this Earth revolve themselves around certain procedures, schedules, and mannerisms that are unique to them, but are they so unique? Perhaps, we simply mimic or take inspiration from other lives, add our own personal touch, and call them our own, but a certain consistency is apparent in everyone's routine. In my case, I'm not so fortunate.
On an average day, I wake up at 5:50 AM, bang my head on the wall adjacent to the closet, and get ready for the long day in front of me. During the school year, I diligently attend school with a few minor complaints and learn how and what to study for the betterment of my education. While I involve myself in school and the work that pertains to it, I look for outlets that will help distract me from my schoolwork. These outlets are my extracurricular activities. I've been involved in orchestral work, which concerns my violin playing, academic teams (such as math team, future problem solving, and quiz bowl to name a few), and volunteering. This is simply an overview of my daily schedule, while quite frankly, this average day is not quite accurate.
As I began my freshman year of high school, I found that my "average day" was slowly changing. Though I kept up with my schoolwork and activities, I constantly felt deprived of energy. At least once a week, I would get an almost unbearable migraine and would have to lie down until it got better. The only reason why I survived my first term of high school was because I only had 2 academic subjects, Math and French. That term I was involved in the Pitt orchestra for our fall school musical, Oklahoma. Practices would run up to 6:00 each day, and after my mom picked me up and dropped me off home, I'd collapse on our living room couch for 2-3 hours.
Freshman year wasn't so bad though, because I'd try and keep my headaches under control as well as trying to keep myself healthy so that I could function. When sophomore year began, I had a fail-proof plan to succeed in school as well as taking the necessary rest I needed to keep focused. Everything drastically changed when on September 19th, 2005, my father suffered an almost fatal stroke. For a week, he was in a coma. I also remember that the Friday of that particular week, I had an AP European History test. I didn't study. North Memorial Hospital became my second home. I would go there after school every day and sometimes, stay overnight. For months and even today, I couldn't sleep at night. I did my homework during class and in passing time. Not only had everything gone out of control but my mind had as well. My grades got worse than usual, and I didn't care what happened around me. Nevertheless, I tried to make it to school every day even though my work output was of low quality. My father stayed in stroke rehabilitation for the rest of the 2005 year before finally being discharged from the hospital. Even though, he was discharged, he was half paralyzed, and his speech was severely impaired. Three times a week, he would go to the hospital for therapy, and most times, I would come too. During that year, I felt really empty and alone. I felt that my dad was going to drop dead and I would never see him again. I felt like I would collapse into tears every few minutes, and I did so a few times in the school stairwell. Then again, I felt guilty for feeling alone and helpless. My friends surrounded me with a protective coat of support, and my aunt and uncle helped us resettle into our new lives. Furthermore, my mother and my brother needed me. While I managed to go to school every day, my brother couldn't as my mother took him with her to take care of my father.
As if it weren't hard enough, when my father became sick, he lost his job. We were a family of four who depended on a sole financial provider, my father. We also lived in an apartment for which we had to pay a monthly rent. We then had to live off of Social Security, which was not so sufficient for the room and board of our whole family plus gas bills. It was very difficult especially since I tried to continue all of the activities I was involved in at school.
My father resumed going to work in the summer of 2006, but he mostly worked from home. When I started 11th grade, things were somewhat better. Whatever happened in the past was horrific to think about, and every day I would be reminded of it. My headaches also started getting worse. Second term of 11th grade was especially hard for me, because it seemed like I acquired every flu/cold in existence. Third term was even harder because I began experiencing sharp pains in my lower left abdomen. It turned out I had an enlarged ovarian cyst. For months after that, I experienced the same pain for unknown reasons. My headaches became migraines, and I found my body limiting my actions such as going to school. I was determined to not let that bring me down. My grades did suffer a little bit, but I took the responsibility to teach myself the subjects I signed up to take.
The summer before my senior year was a happy time for me. My migraines were getting worse, but I was getting treated for it. Though I wasn't getting any relief and felt guilty because of the waste of money all this was turning out to be, I spent my summer making myself happy with who I was. I hung out with my friends, happily taught swimming, and volunteered as much as I could.
Senior year started, and quite frankly, I was really excited. I was signed up for really great classes with teachers that I knew and trusted. The not so exciting part was that I didn't even get to fully enjoy it; I missed more than half of the first term. Every week, my mom rushes me to doctor after doctor to find an absolute cure so I can go back to my life. I recently got put on two new medications, and I hope they'll help. Meanwhile, I'm going to keep on keeping my commitments to school (even if I don't always attend), learning, and the activities that make me happy and build my character.
--
So many things I didn't say:
my ongoing suicidality and depression
the physical and mental abuse from my parents
the physical and mental abuse from my high school boyfriend
everyone disbelieving my pain
the abuse from my doctors
my PCOS, undiagnosed endometriosis, undiagnosed bladder pain
the absolute brutality of what it takes to get into college when you're poor
my undiagnosed anxiety disorder and PTSD
#college essay#i was only seventeen#harm#abuse#high school#college admissions#migraines#pain#doctors#doctor#prose#essay
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
*chants* Bucky, Bucky, Bucky
18. Just pretend we’re okay, just for tonight, just for show. I’ll be gone by sunrise.
(Pretty please)
Compromised
Author: xxwritemeastoryxx
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
Word Count: 5873
Warnings: Betrayal, weapon usage/violence, angst galore. Canon timeline doesn't exist to make this fic work.
Author’s Note: Okay, hear me out before this one gets started. I'm sorry (That's a lie) for whatever pain comes from this one. But I also couldn't help myself and added a second prompt because it JUST FIT PERFECTLY and I couldn't help myself. I added prompt 10. You started this. The least you can do is finish ripping my heart out by telling the damn truth. The beginning of this fic is a bit misleading. Do not jump to conclusions! Also, I want to say that I'm still getting used to writing for Bucky, so any constructive critiques are welcome. Please note that Make it Angsty Requests are now closed. I'm posting them after the fact cause I fail at posting things in a timely manner. The divider is by the lovely @firefly-graphics ♥
I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.
Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥
MCU Masterlist || Fandom Masterlist || Taglist
It was almost a typical Stark party. However for once it wasn’t for his benefit of any kind. For the first time since Y/N had joined the avengers, they were celebrating her birthday. While it may seem odd that they hadn’t done so before, it was because Y/N didn’t want them to fuss over her. For years they had attempted to throw her a party, but she never wanted it and reminded them every time they had tried.
At first she refused to give up the date when she first joined to allow them to throw some kind of celebration. After FRIDAY gave up the day, Y/N always found out about the details that allowed her to evade every get together or surprise party they attempted. They’d throw the party and she’d never show until she was sure they had given up. Or she’d take on missions to avoid the compound altogether.
In truth, Y/N felt as though she didn’t deserve the party they had been so desperately wanting her to be a part of. She couldn’t ever recall a time where her birth had been celebrated. There weren’t an increasing amount of candles to blow out. After years of having nothing, it had become just another day to her. And now that several people wanted to celebrate her birthday, it was overwhelming.
That was until a few months ago that Bucky had been volunteered to convince his girlfriend to actually have a birthday party. If anyone could convince her, it’d be Bucky. He couldn’t get out of the small parties that Steve insisted they have for him. Unlike Y/N, he couldn’t escape his best friends tatics from it.
And after weeks of convincing and reassuring Y/N that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to have a party thrown for her, she finally agreed to it. It also didn’t hurt to add in that any time he was forced to attend a party for his, she was a willing participant that helped him enjoy the night. For once he wanted to be able to see her enjoy herself on her birthday.
That was how she currently found herself surrounded by plenty of people that she knew and didn’t know. Many of them had been staff within the compound that she hardly ever talked to. If it hadn’t been for the conversations and words of encouragement from Bucky and her teammates, she would have bolted for the door hours ago.
But now, she was beginning to feel ansty and the one person that promised he’d by her side the majority of the night was nowhere to be seen. Even as her eyes scanned the crowd she couldn’t find Bucky. Usually she could pick him out rather easy in any room, but right now she couldn’t.
As her eyes finished her scan, she found Steve and Sam talking across the way causing her to start making her way over. As she had, her eyes kept looking for Bucky the whole time hoping he’d pop up.
“Have you seen Bucky?” She asked as she came up to them.
They had stopped mid conversation the moment she spoke. They both hadn’t missed the anxiousness that was visible in her eyes. While they hardly ever seen that side of her before, they both knew that this was a first for her. They expected there to be some hesitancy on her part.
Steve tilted his head towards the hall at the other end of the room. “He got a phone call a few minutes ago. Couldn’t hear over the music.”
She didn’t blame him. The music levels were just loud enough that some people had to speak louder just to be heard. Any louder and she was sure people would have to be mouth to ear in this place to hear anything.
“Thanks.” She said giving him a smile.
“We’re going to be bringing out the cake soon.” Sam added. “Don’t take too long.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and shook her head. “No promises!” She said before she turned and started making her way towards the hall.
When she reached the hall, her eyes began scanning each room as she walked past them, looking for Bucky. She soon realized that only one room, at the very end of the hall had been closed. A small smile pulled at her lips once more as she made her way over to that door.
Her thoughts instantly going to the playful things she could say to him as she walked into the door. She could joke about how he was hiding away when he promised he’d be there. She could also joke that when his birthday came around, she would be able to hide away. The many things she could say just to help ease the anxiety that was bubbling within her.
“Hey Buck-” As she opened the door, she froze. The playful question about him hiding away never got the chance to pass her lips.
Bucky stood at the opposite side of the desk with a file opened and papers scattered. Several pictures were mixed in with the pages that had been on the desk. A document was in his hand as if he had been reading it moments before she had opened the door.
Curiosity should have filled her with what he currently had his eyes trained on, but it wasn’t. Fear filled her as she recognized the contents of the file he had been going through. All of the information in that file she had tried her hardest to destroy. The life she no longer wished to be a part of was contained within that file. The lies to her life laid out on display.
Taking a shuddering breath, she stepped into the room and closed the door. She kept her back to the door, with her hands on the handle. The simple need to grasp onto it just in case she needed to make a quick getaway.
“I need you to let me explain.”
The instant the words left her mouth, Bucky’s eyes snapped to her. He had heard her when she opened the door, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. Not when his eyes were still scanning the document in his hand, taking in the information.
His heart had been in his stomach from the moment he opened the file. Before he opened it, he felt as though he shouldn’t and trust Y/N. He wanted to believe that there was no reason to worry and whatever was in that file was going to prove his recent suspicions to be wrong. But they weren’t.
Being free from the memories tied to it makes it easier to get the job done.
A simple phrase she had said weeks ago had stuck with him. A siren going off within his mind that felt wrong. For someone such as Y/N, who joined from SHIELD, shouldn’t know what it’s like to have her memories wiped. Then again, he had no idea what SHIELD was capable of doing behind closed doors.
It didn’t stop Bucky from wanting the answers himself without dropping a thousand questions on Y/N. He knew the sudden interest in her past would raise questions. While Bucky knew as much about Y/N as she was willing to give, she still had walls up and Bucky respected some of those walls. Just as she had with some of his. But now he had the answers directly in front of him and he hated himself for not seeing it sooner.
“Who are you?” His voice was loud enough for her to hear. His voice hardly held any emotion even though his expressions conveyed everything he was feeling.
“You know who I am.” She responded as she lifted her head up a little higher. Almost as if she was bracing herself for the blow.
“Obviously I don’t.” His right hand gestured towards the desk. “Your background was pretty extensive, I’m amazed that you made it through Tony’s security checks with how much I have sitting on this desk.”
“It’s not that hard for Hydra to create a false identity when you don’t exactly have one.” Much like the calmness in his voice, her’s matched. On the inside, her heart was racing. She was sure her eyes had displayed the fear and guilt she was currently feeling. Her eyes took in every bit of him. Studying him and keeping herself ready for anything she hoped wouldn’t happen. “The person in that file is dead. Has been for several years.”
A scoff passed his lips as he shook his head. “If she’s dead, who’s birthday are they currenty out there celebrating?”
They. He hadn’t included himself in that scentence and Y/N had picked up on that right away. There was a change from earlier this morning when he took her out to breakfast and left a gift on her bed side table to wake up to. She assumed that the time he took to celebrate her birthday ended when he got his phone call, no doubt signalling the arrival of the file.
“Still mine.” There was the slightest nod of her head as she tried to enure his questions were answered as quickly as she could without them seeming rehearsed, even though there were times where she practiced for the day she would tell him. “They-” She stopped herself. There was no use in avoiding the truth. “Hydra believed that if I had no ties to my former life, I would do as they pleased. But when creating a backstory, they used my real birth date. It was only after I left that I found out it was the right date. Everything else was different.”
His eyes took her in as she finished. He could see how she was almost in a defensive stance. Her arm behind her back no doubt holding the handle on the door. The defensive reflex reminding him of many times he had seen other soldiers hold that stance in a room that he was in. An easier way to leave when the opportunity presented itself.
He wondered how many other times there was something that had seemed so familiar to him that had gone unnoticed. For every memory that had been returned to him, he never knew who she was when they first met. He would have known if she was mixed in the sea of memories, but she never encountered him while he was under Hydra’s hold.
But now he kew that brief moment of a gut feeling when he met her for the first time was an actual warning he should have listened to. But it had been Steve, and occasionally Sam, that reminded him that once she opened up, she wasn't as guarded and neither of them had felt off about her presence. It turns out they had been wrong.
"I get it." She said a moment later when he hadn’t said anything. “This is a bunch of new information that you're taking in. Maybe you need a little more time to process." Her hand on the knob slowly turned. This would be the only chance she'd have to leave the room. While she didn't fear him, she was afraid of the emotions that would come from this conversation. She knew, without a doubt, he'd hate her afterwards. "I'll head back to the party and we can talk later. Just please don't say anything to anyone. At least not yet."
She had barely turned around and opened the door a little more than an inch or two before the swish of a blade flying through the air was loud in her ears. It was followed by a thud that caused the door to slam shut just as quickly as she had opened it. She looked up to see the knife barely above her head.
"We are far from finished."
When she turned back around, she found him standing within arms reach. His eyes were narrowed at her. Her heart aches that he had been looking at her like he was instead of the caring looks she had been used to. In the span of a an hour, she had become the enemy in his eyes.
Bucky could have aimed anywhere. He had half a mind to aim for the space right beside her hand or even right by her cheek. Something close enough to knick the skin as a warning not to leave. But the part of him that cared way too deeply for her couldn't bring himself to bring the knife that close to her.
He couldn't deny what was in front of him. The way she had been so calm about this had further proved the evidence. It was almost as if he could no longer recognize who she was. That the woman he loved was completely different from the woman who's life had been spread out on the desk behind him. Even the words leaving her lips that now came out so easily were foreign to him in the way their conversations usually went. Hydra was never spoken of and now it had been mentioned more times in the last few minutes than they had been in the few years they had known each other.
“How long?” He asked a moment later.
“Since before we met.” The words came out easily.
"What was your mission?"
Her eyes scanned his face for a moment. Just enough for her to collect her thoughts. She could lie, but she knew that would get her nowhere. She could tell the truth, and they could possibly find themselves at each other's throats.
“To infiltrate the Avengers." His features hadn't changed as she continued. "I was to gain their trust while I observed and reported anything of interest. When the time came I was to take down my target.”
“Who is your target?” He asked with a raised brow.
“Doesn’t matter, I couldn’t go through with it.” She said with a shake of her head.
That detail she couldn’t bring herself to give up. It caused her heart to ache just thinking about it. She never voiced it before and she didn’t want this to be the first time she did. Any other time she could redirect the questions onto something else. But this wasn’t just a casual conversation to be had anymore. This was Bucky interrogating her.
There weren't any playful conversations or plans for the rest of the night. There wasn’t the comfortable stance between them. Instead they both were on edge and the tension in the air thick.
“It does matter. You came here under false pretenses. Lied to everyone who believed to be your friend. I think it’s only fair that you own up to who it was.” It was no longer about knowing her past and what she had done. It was now about if she still posed as threat while still here within the walls of the compound.
“They’re still breathing.” She noted. “I almost went through with it. But I learned I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So it doesn’t matter who it was, Bucky. All that matters is that I turned my back on Hydra and never looked back.”
“And what’s to stop you from changing your mind and going after them?” He asked taking a step closer to her.
“What stopped you from killing Steve?” With his step forward, she began remembering the layout of the room. The details she could use to her advantage from being pinned against the door as she now was.
“Why can’t you just answer the question?” He shot back as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Because it isn’t necessary!” Her voice raised slightly. The emotions within her growing and she hated the fact that her eyes threatened to tear up. “I left. I made the choice to be better. You got to do the same. Why is it any different with me?”
“Because I don’t know how I can trust you without knowing all of the facts.” He took in a deep breath trying to calm himself. “I let you in. How do I know that everything you’ve told me isn’t a lie? I don’t know how much of it was you actually being you or if you were doing your job and just using me to get close to-”
He stopped himself when something clicked in his mind. The missing pieces of the puzzle being found as he watched the tears well up in her eyes and the words he had just said brought everything into perspective. He looked up at the knife that was still embedded in the door above her head before looking back at her.
“I’m only going to ask this one more time.” There was hurt in his voice and every part of him hoped that the answer he now had in his mind was wrong. “Who is your mission?”
The moment Bucky had cut himself off, Y/N knew he had pieced it together. It was written in his face and in his eyes. It had made her heart ache as she watched him piece it together. She knew this is where he would hate her. Even if she tried and denied it again, he still knew and there was nothing that could change that.
“You.” That was when the first tear fell from her eyes. His hands dropped to his sides as he took a step back. When she reached out to him, he hit her hand away. “Bucky-”
“Everything was a lie, wasn’t it?” His head shook as he looked at her. His heart ached in a way he believed he never felt before. He had felt and done many things during his lifetime. He regretted many things and several of them he wished on everything he could take them back. But the one thing he never regretted was meeting and falling in love with Y/N. At least that was until now. “You are pretty good at your job sweetheart, I’ll give you that.”
“I have lied about plenty of things, but my feelings for you weren’t one of them.” Y/N needed him to understand that.
Her confessions of care and love towards him hadn’t been faked at any point. Her annoyance in the beginning had been clear. It took months for them to warm up to each other, let alone work well together on missions. And while she was the double agent, it was only until her feelings had shifted, right along with Bucky’s, that she realized she couldn’t go through with her mission.
“Don’t feed me that bullshit.” His eyes narrowed at her. “Everything I have known about you has been a lie. From the moment I met you I should have listened to my gut.” He shook his head before running his fleshed hand down his face. “You started this by taking the mission.” He said as he looked into her eyes. “The least you can do is finish ripping my heart out by telling the damn truth for once.”
Her eyes widdened slightly as she took in his words. She knew that this was a justified reaction from him. But it didn’t hurt anyless to hear that she was breaking him. The first relationship he had away from Hydra and she was tormenting him by not telling him the truth.
She looked elsewhere for a moment as she tried to get her emotions in check. After all those years of training, she found them to be useless in that moment. Tears were falling freely with no intent to stop. They were silent and didn’t affect her in the way it would to someone else.
“You want the whole truth? Okay. Here it is.” If it would help in some way to either ease things between them or get them going for the inevitable reveal to the others, she’d give it all up. “Hydra caught wind that you were having your programming removed.” His eyes widened for a moment as he took in her words. “For the right price, there are no secrets, even in closed borders, you know that. Agents were trying to find their place after the fall of SHIELD. It was easy to have a background created for me and I was tossed in with the potentials. It didn’t take long for my skillsets to be noticed and I was brought in rather quickly. I was to observe and report what was necessary to my superiors. And when the time came I was to assess if the Winter Soldier could be returned and utilized or put down.
"I played my role and mingled with everyone. I reported back when necessary. Much like you with the hesitancy towards me, I had the same with you. Yes, I feared that you’d figure it out early on and kill me. I expected it from the moment you returned from Wakanda. I stayed on edge waiting for the moment that you would figure it out. But you never did. And when you managaged to actually hold a conversation with me for longer than two seconds, I knew I had my way in.” She watched as a glare formed on his face and when he opened his mouth to speak she quickly continued.
“Things started to change between us. I fought it because I was supposed to be doing my job and not falling for you. Your death was supposed to come that first mission alone together after it was agreed by my superiors that you were to be put down. You were so eager to get the mission done that you never realized you had a gun pointed at your head several times.” She wiped the tears from her cheek. Bucky had shook his head at her words. No doubt hating himself for not realizing it then. “Nor did you see how I struggled to get myself to pull the trigger. Because every time you looked back to check on me, all I could see was Bucky and not the asset that I was meant to put down. All I could see was the freedom and relationship that I craved and I couldn’t do it.
“The moment we got back from that mission I left for a few days. I said it was because I had a family emergency that I needed to take care of. That was the last lie I told you. Because I couldn’t tell you that I was going to either get myself killed or I was going to take down the base that not even the Avengers knew about.”
The moment she mentioned it, Bucky remembered that night. He remembered, for the first time in a long while, being anxious waiting for Y/N to return home from checking in on her family. The night she had left he was going to tell her how he felt. The feelings that had been developing for her, he needed her to know.
Bucky had been working up the courage the week leading up to the mission. But he couldn’t get himself to. And when they got back, he was on his way to her room to tell her when he caught word she had left rather quickly. The only thing anyone knew was something was going on with her family. So Bucky waited a little longer to tell her.
After almost a week and a half, Bucky woke up in the middle of the night to find Y/N sitting in the doorway to his room. At first he believed he was dreaming until he got up and walked over to her. He had expected to see some kind of smirk on her lips or some kind of joke about her being a lurker. Instead he found her face and neck covered in yellowing bruises.
“What happened?” He asked, quickly moving to sit beside her and take in the damage.
“Some times checking in on your family means getting your ass beat in the process.” It was a horrible joke but it had made her chuckle slightly as tears formed in her eyes.
He brought his hand under her chin and lifted it slightly, angling her face up and to the side to get a better look at her neck. “Should have called in for some back up. I gladly would have stepped in.” They chuckled and she shook her head.
“I assure you, they wouldn’t be able to touch anyone again.”
Her words caused an eyebrow to raise on his face. “Am I being sworn to secrecy with that statement? Cause I can-”
“You wont have to worry about anything.” She promised. “I’m free from anything incriminating.” She looked down the hall towards where her room was. “I’ve only been back a few minutes, I didn’t want to wake you. You actually looked like you were sleeping peacefully tonight. I just needed-”
“It’s okay.” He assured her. He stayed with her in that spot for a little longer before she excused herself to go to her room.
The next morning they received the news that a hydra base had been taken down with no idea who had done it. No mission had been scheduled. They didn't even know that particular base had existed. Yet it had been up in flames without anyone alive to explain what was going on. Local authorities had been the ones to find the base in shambles and it took some time to reach the compound.
“I should kill you right now.” His voice had been calm. The words had even shocked him as they left his lips. Maybe it was the mix of emotions, but there was no stopping them once they left his lips.
Without any hesitation, Y/N shot her hand up above her head, grabbing the hilt of the knife, pulling it free. The moment she had it free, Bucky had his vibranium hand wrapped around hers. He thought she had been attempting to use it against him, and as he tried to keep it from meeting him, she easily brought it closer to her, letting the tip of the blade meet her shirt right above her heart.
“Do it, you’d be doing both of us a favor.” For a brief moment she saw the way his eyes softened at her words and actions before they hardened just as they had moments before. “I never intended to fall for you. But you made me care and I couldn’t stop myself. You want to kill me, go ahead. I deserve it for what I’ve done.”
Bucky pulled the blade away from her and brought it down to his side. “You should have told me the truth sooner. When you knew you couldn’t go through with it. Or even that night. We sat up for hours, you should have told me. I would have let you go then instead of having to find out this way when you slipped up.”
“I know, and I understand that I should have. But you-”
“Leave.” He couldn’t let her finish what she was about to say. While he didn’t know it word for word, he knew she would say along the lines of ‘now he knew and they could start over, now he knew and once she told the others they could make their way past this’. Part of him wanted to let her be that selfish. But the other part that now saw her only as someone that used him, he couldn’t bring himself to allow her any of it.
She nodded her head. “Okay, I’ll give you some space.”
“I meant leave here completely. I don’t want to see you around here anymore. In fact I expect you to be somewhere across the world by morning.”
“What? No-”
“If you don’t leave, I will gladly walk out of this room and alert everyone that Hydra is within their walls.” He would quickly do it if it allowed him the peace of her being gone. He couldn’t stand to look at her right now.
"I am not Hydra anymore!" She was glad the music had been blasting down the hall or else she would have given herself away with how loudly she had yelled it at him. “If you’re going to take anything away from this, please let that be it.”
“I can’t.” He shook his head. He moved towards the door to leave. As his flesh hand grabbed the door knob, she placed hers on top of his, causing him to look over at her with a glare.
“I know you don’t owe me any favors, and I definitely don’t deserve this, but please. Just pretend we’re okay, just for tonight, just for show.” She watched as his eyes hadn’t changed as he kept them on her. “Please. The others don’t need to hear about this right now and I promise that I’ll be gone by sunrise.”
He stood there for a moment, taking her in one last time. For the briefest of moments, this was his Y/N that he was looking at. The woman he had loved with everythin he could give. She wasn’t the enemy that had been standing in front of him. Nor was she the woman that broke his heart several times within their conversation tonight.
The pain in his chest shattered the illusion a moment later and all he could see and feel was the betrayal from her. The lies he had heard over the years on a loop in his mind as he looked into her eyes. He couldn’t give her the whole night she was asking for. He didn’t even know if he’d be capable of giving her any time longer than him walking out of this room.
“I’ll give you until your candles are out.” He said as he shook her hand off of his and opened the door. “That’s the only time you’ll get. After that it’s fair game.”
As the door slammed shut behind him, she closed her eyes and let a shakey breath out. She had expected him to say no. To tell her to leave once more before he left the room. She had expected to be running to their shared room and packing a bag to slip out under the radar. But he gave her smallest window of nothing being wrong.
Leaving the room, she quickly ducked into the nearest bathroom to collect herself. Thankfully there hadn’t been many people in the hall and there wasn’t someone already in the bathroom. Making quick use of her time, she ensured that not a single evidence of tears had been on her face and made sure her eyes didn’t hold the emotions she had been feeling. With one last deep breath, she walked back out to the party.
“There she is!” Clint yelled out, catching her attention. “We’ve been trying to keep Thor off of the cake.”
In the last few moments the music had been lowered significantly, to a decent volume. Thankfully they hadn’t decided to do so before she and Bucky had walked out of the room. If they had, she was sure she’d be greeted differently.
“Didn’t I tell you it wouldn’t be long before cake?” Sam teased.
“Someone couldn’t keep their hands off.”
Bucky’s voice had surprised her. As her eyes snapped to his, there wasn’t the playful gleam within his eyes. If anything, he was hiding the glare that wanted to form. He sent a wink her way before he brought the beer bottle up to his lips. The subtle message that he agreed and wouldn’t take it back. He’d keep the new charade up as long as she left just as he asked.
“Enough of that!” Nat said before Y/N could respond. She came over to Y/N and began leading her to stand in front of the cake. “Let’s sing and cut the cake before they decide to disappear again.”
The instant Y/N was in place, Nat began to light the candles on the cake quickly. But her eyes never left Bucky as he moved to stand closer to her for the time being. The others gathered around and it wasn’t long before a countdown started and the singing began. Taking Y/N’s full attention.
From the opposite side of the cake, she watched as the people who had become her friends over the last several years sing to her. The smiles on their faces as they had were something she’d never forget. And as her eyes landed on Bucky, he too had been participating just as she asked him too. The sparkler candles adding the right touch to the memory she was creating in her mind. The memory she’d keep with her for as long as she could after she left. The and only birthday celebrated with them all.
As the song came to an end, she could see the way Bucky’s eyes had been on anywhere else but her. He had even stopped singing mid song before the others had even finished singing. The ‘normal’ coming to an end.
While every one told her to make some kind of wish, Y/N couldn’t bring herself to. While she could wish for anything and everything to take back today, and even the last few years she would. But the damage had been done. There was no going back now.
I’m sorry. She thought as she blew out the candles.
In the midst of the cheers and the cake being moved away, Y/N was gone from sight. The only one who noticed it at first was Bucky. He watched her the whole entire time. He watched as she manuevored out of sight from the others and down towards the hall.
The moment she was gone from sight, Bucky’s body slumped slightly. The tension in his body leaving as he sat himself down in the nearest chair. The action hadn’t go unnoticed by some of his friends.
“You alright Buck?” Steve’s voice filled his ears as caught his movement in his peripheral taking a seat next to him.
“Give me the rest of tonight to give you an answer to that.” He said even though his eyes never left the hallway.
He had hardly got a grip on the situation himself. He was still processing the information, her words on a loop in his head, along with the hurt he was feeling had his mind spinning. Because how could he begin to explain that the woman they all cared for had been lying for years?
“Where’d Y/N go?” Steve asked keeping his attention on Bucky.
Bucky shrugged his shoulders, trying to keep his emotions at bay. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He finally brought his attention to Steve. “I just need time to give you the ‘why’ of it all.”
After years of freedom from the organization that manipulated, used, and tormented him, Hydra sure had a way of making its presence known in his life even after being destroyed. The relief of freedom he felt had been taken away from him the moment he had opened that file. And the genuine happiness he felt had been shattered to pieces the moment she confirmed his thoughts.
MCU Masterlist || Fandom Masterlist || Taglist
All WorksTag (The tag to be notified for everything I write):
@mrs-maximoff-kenner @mizzzpink @friendelius @thatfanficstuff @mushroomelephant @23victoria @avengers-fixation
Excelsior Tag(All MCU fics):
@hellotvshowtrash @dpaccione @old-enough-to-know-better73 @elijahs-wife @kpopgirlbtssvt @theartofhotchinthesnow @bluebear142077 @thatweirdoleigh @loving-life-my-way
Winter Soldier tag(For only and all things Bucky):
@mqravdcrs @fandom-princess-forevermore @freyathehuntress
#mcu fics#mcu fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#reader insert#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier#bucky barnes angst#make it angsty celebration#Make it Angsty#betrayal
283 notes
·
View notes
Text
ways to say i love you without saying “i love you”
pairing: steve rogers x reader
summary: you and steve explore love languages
word count: 5.1k
warnings: fluff, a little angst because of miscommunications, reader & steve being idiots, good intentions but terrible delivery, mentions of other characters
author’s note: this fic has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for so long. this fic is like, ancient. this fic was almost destroyed because it was briefly in the library of alexandria. when i reopened the document with this fic, there were mold spores growing on it. (p.s. steve’s love langauge is acts of service, and the reader’s is quality time)
you can find my masterlist and taglist here
Prologue
Steve was a multitasker. You knew this well. Perhaps too well.
That never seemed to bother you before, but if the man who was supposed to be taking a serene nature walk with you checked his goddamn flip phone one more time, you were completely sure that you’d lose it.
You paused your story about your obnoxious coworkers for a moment, stopping in the middle of the gravelly trail you two were making your way down.
“Steve, seriously, are you even listening?” you griped, ushering him towards the side of the pavement as a man on a bike flew by.
He guffawed a bit at this, “of course I am. You just said something about…” he paused, and you gestured with your hands for him to continue. “Okay, sorry,” the blush on his face was becoming more and more apparent.
You involuntarily scoffed, rolling your eyes as you did so, “I’m glad to know that whatever you’re waiting for on there,” you gestured to his pocket, “is more important than spending quality time with your girlfriend, who, must I remind you, took time off to be here with you.”
“Nothing is more important to me than you, I’m just on call. I’m probably going to get called to go on a mission any moment now.”
“Steve!” you huffed, “you literally just got back, like, two hours ago. Can’t someone else go? Tony? Vision? Anyone?”
“I might’ve volunteered myself-“
“You’re unbelievable, Steve. Are you getting tired of me or something? You’ve been avoiding me like the plague ever since I moved in with you. If I upset you, or you’re gonna propose to me or something, can you just tell me?”
“I promise you it’s not personal at all,” he reached for your hand and gently held it. “Everything’s just been crazy. I mean, these Hydra bases have been popping up left and right. Just give me a little grace, okay? I don’t get upset with you when SHIELD starts making you work those ungodly hours.”
You opened your mouth to debate him, but surely enough, the canny and familiar ringtone of Steve’s work phone interrupted you before you could even begin.
“Okay… Yeah. I’ll be there in thirty.”
You frowned at Steve as he spoke on the phone and shook your head disapprovingly, “unbelievable,” you muttered, storming in the direction of your home.
——
Steve was no fool, he knew when he messed up, and he was more than willing to take responsibility for such. Now was one of those times. He knew that he should’ve been making more time for you. He was well aware that he shouldn’t have gotten defensive when you pointed this out.
He just had no idea how to apologize.
You weren’t exactly making it easy for him either, taking much longer hours in an attempt to avoid him. While he could understand your frustrations, it became a little more difficult everyday for him to properly apologize to you in a way he felt was meaningful.
Eventually figuring to use your avoidance as a tool, Steve devised a plot to make an apology for you so considerate, so superb, that you could never be angry with him again. A plot that included a several course meal, all concocted by himself.
He could imagine the look on your face as you came home from work, shocked, but the good kind of shock. Pleasantly surprised that your sweet boyfriend had put in such a huge amount of effort to say sorry.
He couldn’t help but imagine the scenario: you would relax into your seat at the table after Steve pulled out the chair for you, hum in content as he poured your favorite wine. Moan happily at the taste of a homemade and rarely prepared salad dressing, before complimenting the melt-in-your-mouth entree he had spent an unknown amount of time laboring over. Finally, you’d gush over the dessert that Steve hadn’t had the chance to cook in years, tell him that he worked far too hard putting everything together, especially for a little argument. Steve would scoff, tell you you’re being too kind, and you would pull him in for a red wine and dark chocolate flavored kiss.
The thought of you, your genuine and warm smile after a long day at work, and an even longer week worth of unspoken tension between you both, was enough to keep Steve motivated through the hours he spent preparing your meal.
He greeted you at the door like an excited puppy as soon as he heard your keys jingle. Sure, work had kept you a bit longer than he’d expected, and your food was likely a little cool by now, but he was excited to make amends.
However, you did not seem to share the same enthusiasm as Steve.
“Welcome home, gorgeous. Come sit,” Steve nudged you into the dining area, and you sluggishly followed, exhausted from a tiring day of training new agents.
“What’s wrong?” he inquired, pulling out a chair that you didn’t even attempt to sit down on.
“I had a really long day. I kinda just wanna get to bed,” you shrugged before rubbing your creased temple.
Steve internally cringed at the thought of all of his hard work going to waste. For some reason, he’d not envisioned this less pleasant outcome before. “Sweetheart,” he began in a nearly whiny tone, but you weren’t in much of a mood to be persuaded.
“I’m sorry. Weird things were happening at work that I don’t care to get into now, and honestly, I’m not even that hungry,” you reached out and gave Steve’s hand a little squeeze. “But it all looks and smells so good! I Promise I’ll warm some up tomorrow for lunch.”
“I-,” he paused, “please. Maybe you could just take a few bites of everything. It took me a really long time to get everything prepped and ready.”
You frowned at the plea, feeling a bit guilty but almost… satisfied at the same time. Steve struggled to make time for you because of his work, and now he was getting a little taste of his own medicine.
“I really am sorry. But hey, now we’re even?” you offered with a playful wink, slipping away before you gave your partner a chance to respond. You truly didn’t have the energy for a four course meal that night, let alone another argument.
——
Wanda was silent for a moment as she sipped from a mug of coffee, watching you with a suspiciously focused look on her face.
“Wanda?” you prompted, seemingly snapping her out of whatever trance she had found herself in.
“Oh my God, I know exactly what you guys need,” she just about blurted, reaching across the café table to grab your hand.
“Were you reading my mind?”
Your friend didn’t respond, but the devious smirk on her face was enough of an answer.
“What happened to telling me before reading me?”
“You just looked like there was a lot on your mind. And absolutely no way that you’d tell me,” she shrugged nonchalantly.
“Of course I was gonna tell you! Why else would I ask my friend in a cute relationship to meet me for coffee?”
“Because you like me?”
“No, never that. I just needed advice,” the two of you shared a laugh for a moment.
“Well don’t waste your breath. When Vis and I had a rough patch, we just had to learn each other’s love languages. You’d be surprised just how much that synthezoid values those acts of services.”
“And you?”
“I’m a words of affirmation girl myself,” she shrugged. “You should find out yours, and try to figure out Steve’s. I guarantee it’ll be helpful in the long run. I can send you guys a test, if you want?”
“Oh god no, please don’t tell him that I told you about us. Actually, I didn’t even tell you! You were digging around in my brain, and I don’t appreciate that. Just do me a favor, and don’t share this with anyone, okay?” You paused dramatically, then leaned in to speak to your friend in a whisper, “but send me that test when you get the chance.”
Gift Giving
“A little reality-warping birdie told me you’ve been having some relationship problems,” Tony said teasingly once Bruce left the conference room, leaving him and Steve alone.
Steve paused for a moment, trying to decide whether he should lie or fess up to the allegation. “How did she know?” Steve finally responded, standing up and pushing the chair he was sitting on behind him.
Tony shrugged dismissively, “I don’t ask these kinds of things. I just hear in passing that the geriatric is having a hard time and tune in.”
Steve shook his head slightly, rolling his eyes to mask his clear embarrassment.
“Well, is it true?”
“We’ve just been having the occasional… rift. A little more than occasionally.”
Tony nodded, fake pondering the situation, “well, I always know what I do for Pep, at least after I tell her I’m getting rid of the suit. Go buy her something nice. Really nice, like jewelry, or a purse if she’s into that kind of thing. I would say a car, but I know that Social Security check isn’t getting you too far. You know what? Put it on the company card. My treat.”
Steve wanted to scoff, turn his nose up at the offer like it was a terrible idea, but it really wasn’t. Maybe a material surprise was the way to win you back. He made a soft ‘hmph,’ noise as he mulled it over. “That’s definitely not your worst idea. Thanks,” he gave his teammate a soft smile before collecting himself and heading out of the conference room.
His first stop after work was some local jeweler. Steve threw on a (not very) inconspicuous outfit before entering the building, where he browsed for a good hour, searching for something that he believed you’d like. After looking at more jewelry than he had ever cared to see in his life, he decided on a necklace with a thin golden chain with a decent sized diamond hanging off of it. It was a little pricier, and you’d be able to tell— but he hoped it would help the gift mean more to you.
——
When you arrived home late that night, Steve was sitting in the living room waiting for you. It was almost daunting, the sight of him sitting alone on the couch mostly in the dark, only the television illuminating his face. He kind of reminded you of a parent waiting to confront their child who just snuck out, or a concerned friend seconds away from staging an intervention with you.
Walking past the room, you peeked your head through the doorway, and observed the flat, small box in front of him on the coffee table.
“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greeted, standing up so he could greet you with a hug and grabbing the little box as he did so.
“Is everything okay?” you probed, speaking into Steve’s shoulder.
“Of course. I just wanted you to know how much I love you, and that I’m sorry for not having as much time for you as I should,” he pulled away before holding the box out for you.
You hesitantly took the box and opened it, letting out a gasp when you viewed the delicate looking gold necklace.
You were having mixed emotions, because it was clearly beautiful and you were grateful to the gesture. But you knew that this must’ve been expensive, and that it was so unlike Steve to have done something like this. Your frugal, Great Depression era guy wasn’t exactly the most material.
“I love it,” you gushed, admiring the jewelry.
“Can I put it on you?” Steve asked, and received a nod in return.
Steve set the box down on the table and lifted up the necklace, bringing it up to your neck and focusing on clasping it in the back.
“Babe, how much was this?” you blurted, not even being able to filter the words before they left your mouth.
“Hmm? That doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, then stepped away from you to admire your clavicle.
“It just feels weird letting you spend so much on me.”
“It’s a gift, though. You’re not supposed to think about those things,” he hummed, pressing a chaste peck to your nose.
“Steve, I got you a Nespresso for Christmas and you wouldn’t stop complaining about how expensive it was. I love it, I really do. It’s beautiful and I’ll always think of you when I wear it. I just think that maybe we should have the same standards for each other,” you stood up from your seat and sidestepped him. “I need a shower.”
Steve watched you walk off, letting your words simmer in his thoughts.
That was the last time he would take relationship advice from Tony.
Words of Affirmation
This conclusion probably shouldn’t have taken you this long, but you were almost completely sure that this would be the love language to win Steve back over. You felt bad for some of the occurrences between the two of you lately, with sour exchanges and sweet moments that turned bitter on a whim.
In all honesty, you were concerned that Steve doubted your love for him. And if his love language really was words of affirmation, this would certainly convince him otherwise.
You sat at your desk the night before Steve departed for a two-week mission, trying to write a nice message for him. You tapped your pen on the stock paper in deep thought as you tried to figure out the best thing to say.
I’m sorry for arguing so much with you lately. You and everything that you do mean the world to me, even when you get on my nerves. I love you more than anything and that will never change.
The words looked cramped and unkempt on the little note. Your handwriting got messier as you went. You groaned at it, crumpled the paper, and tossed it in your trash bin. Time to start over again.
I’m sorry for arguing with you. I love you a lot. Can you stop picking up your phone when we’re spending time together?
You groaned at the passive aggressive tone of your message. That certainly wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Straight to the bin it goes.
I love you so much so don’t die on your mission or I’ll be pretty upset. Be safe out there xx.
The tone was even more off now. You needed to think of something that would really make Steve remember you while he was gone. For a second, you considered snapping a nude with a polaroid and attaching it to the letter.
I’m sorry that things have been so bad nasty for us lately. I promise that I love you, despite our ups and downs. Nothing will ever change that. I’ll miss you more than you know while you’re gone. Make sure you call me every day, my love.
A little cheesy, but you signed off with your name regardless, and contentedly looked at your work. The spacing looked correct, the tone wasn’t harsh, and you knew for a fact that Steve would appreciate it.
You stayed up a little later than normal, waiting for Steve to get home and change out of his ‘work clothes’ so that you could slip the note into his utility belt.
You folded the note to a small little square and set it beside an granola bar in a pocket you’d assumed he frequently used. Content with your work, you laid back in bed until your partner slipped in bed beside you, and sleepily cuddled into you until you were both unconscious.
—
Around two weeks had passed since Steve had seen you last, and he had decided to stop by the office and finish up paperwork before coming to see you. It had been radio silence on his end, despite the note in his clothing that clearly requested daily contact. Part of you wondered if Steve had seen it at all.
Steve had just finished signing the documents when he finally noticed it, reaching into a sparsely used part of his belt to have a quick snack. His hand landed on a folded piece of paper, and he cringed as he unfolded it, the letter becoming clearer and clearer as he did so. He wondered just how long the message had been waiting for him.
He read your sweet words with a frown on his face, the guilt from not opening it sooner overriding the sweet feelings that he would otherwise have. He grabbed his phone and considered texting you, but abandoned that thought altogether.
“FRIDAY, any idea where Y/N is right now?”
“I was told not to share any information about Ms. L/N, Captain Rogers.”
“Whose orders?” Steve pressed.
“Hers,” the bot quipped back.
Steve groaned aloud. He was really in for it tonight.
Physical Touch
“Have you tried touching her more?” Thor casually queried. The water that Steve had just consumed nearly flew out of his nose, and his cheeks reddened instantly.
“Pardon?” he asked, looking away from his friend instantly.
“I understand that you and Y/N have been having troubles lately. Perhaps she does not feel held by you. Maybe she wants you to show her off in public, to hold her hand, hug her,” he suggested.
Could Steve even be blamed for going there? He was having a chat with a god of fertility. Who wouldn’t think the same?
“Stark’s gala tonight. Show the world that she’s yours, and I guarantee that she’ll love every moment of it.”
——
You were confused. Really confused.
The night began with some simple touches, hand holding as you entered the building, a casual arm around your waist as you chatted with donors and politicians you hadn’t seen in months, a playful match of footsie under the table while waiting for food. But it came to a head when Steve had decided to rest his hand on your ass and grope you in the midst of a conversation.
Now, in any other situation, you would welcome this affection. But both you and Steve had never been a fan of PDA, and this was a bit too far.
As subtle as you could manage, you pushed his hand away, offering him a sour look as you did so.
“Excuse us,” you told some rich old man in an artificially sweet tone before ushering Steve off to his office for a bit more privacy.
“What was that about?” you questioned, sitting down in the padded chair behind Steve’s desk, and running your fingers over your necklace in a bit of a nervous tick.
“What do you mean?” he retorted, standing across from you at the desk and setting his hands on top of the clear table.
“Why were you groping me in front of people? That’s really... unlike you. And it made me uncomfortable.”
Steve frowned genuinely, looking down at the table in embarrassment. “I’m really sorry. For making you uncomfortable. It sounds ridiculous but I was just trying something new.”
“Apology accepted, but are you sure? You weren’t like, jealous of those guys or something? You know you’re the only hundred year old I have eyes for,” you set your hands atop of his and squeezed.
Steve chuckled at this, the flush of his cheeks only highlighted more by the laughter, “it’s just that, uh, Thor told me I should try showing you off more. Or something like that.”
“So you groped me in front of our guests? That’s silly. And a little unprofessional,” you glanced over at the cork board on his desk sitting next to his desktop, and amongst the neatly arranged scratched out to-do lists and random reminders, you couldn’t help but notice the creased paper of the note you’d left for his mission. Your chest warmed when your eyes fell upon it.
“When did you find this thing?” you asked, pointing to the note.
“I meant to say something, but when I found it, FRIDAY said you didn’t want to talk to me. SO I was going to bring it up when I got home, but you were still working. After that, I kinda… you know-”
“Forgot?” you finished with a hearty laugh, “It’s fine. You’re such a dork. C’mere so I can get my own groping in,” you chided, grinning to yourself when Steve wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace.
Acts of Service
Steve was quietly folding your laundry in your bedroom when it finally occurred to you, but when it did, it hit like a ton of bricks.
Steve’s love language was acts of service!
Things suddenly began to make sense to you, the way that he initially attempted to apologize by spending hours cooking one meal, how he consistently worked to make your life as comfortable as possible, and his great insistence to do house chores, despite you being more than capable.
Steve set down a stack of folded sweatshirts by your calf, snapping you away from your brief retrospective daze. If that really was the case, and Steve’s love language truly was acts of kindness, you had to come up with some sort of plan to communicate to him just how much you cared about him in a way that he really appreciated.
Luckily for you, you were a quick thinker. Before you even knew it, a week filled with random acts of kindness before he was off on yet another mission was quickly hatched.
——
You were up at the ass-crack of dawn. Really. Steve liked to get up earlier than the sun in order to run, or train, or whatever the hell it was that superheroes did. You were seriously regretting your decision to wake up around the same time as him in order to do some favors for him in the morning.
By the time Steve was back from his run, his favorite coffee was brewed and cooling, and you were in the laundry room at the dryer, preparing to give Steve a warm towel after his shower.
Despite the three mugs of coffee you’d just downed, it was becoming more and more difficult to keep your eyes open. It didn’t help that your eyelids felt like they weighed fifty pounds each, and the warmth of the dryer next to you was providing you with just enough comfort to drift off.
And drift you did. In fact, half an hour later, you’d missed the frantic calling out for you from your boyfriend as he searched for you around the apartment.
You finally awoke when he shook your shoulders, his amused voice bringing you back to consciousness.
“What’s going on here?” Steve grinned, pushing some hair out of your face.
“Mmm,” you began, “Iwantedtogetawarmtowel,” you slurred sleepily and incoherently.
“Even with super hearing I couldn’t decipher that. Let’s get you a mattress, okay?” Steve hoisted you up like you were nothing, and carried your half asleep body all the way up to your bedroom.
The next thing you knew, you were buried under your favorite comforter and propped against a mountain of feathery pillows. A gentle forehead kiss and an incomprehensible sentence about calling off of work for you later, you were back in a deep sleep.
So much for warm towels.
—
You were going to do better this time. That’s what you told yourself as you strolled through the grocery store, the same store that you hadn’t shopped in since moving in with Steve, as he preferred to do the shopping himself.
Equipped with a short paper list and sheer determination to make the trip as short and accurate as possible, you gathered all of the groceries that you believed were necessary— just enough to restock the fridge, and fill some gaps left in the cupboard.
Your time at the store was indeed brief, as you found yourself in the checkout lane after just twenty minutes (you definitely weren’t going to brag about that to Steve later. Definitely not), and back home with just enough time to unload the groceries, and further prep yourself to go to work.
You’d honestly forgotten about your trip to the store by the time that you arrived home, up until you found your boyfriend arm deep in your pantry, hellbent on finding… something.
“Can I help you?” you poked with a laugh, coming up beside Steve and peeking over his shoulder.
“I’m just… Did you happen to grab any protein bars while you were at the store?” he asked, pausing his search to look back at you.
“I don’t think so. Why? It’s not like you need any more protein,” you teased, squeezing a bicep to demonstrate your words.
“They’re pretty convenient when I’m out in the field. Don’t worry about it, though. I’ll just swing by the store and grab some before my mission tomorrow. Actually, I should probably go now. Y’know, before I forget,” Steve was already grabbing his car keys from the counter by the time his sentence was finished, leaving you to fight off your disappointment at your minor grocery store failure.
You looked at what you now knew was an insufficiently filled pantry and pinched the bridge of your nose. You had seriously underestimated the ins and outs of shopping for a super soldier.
Well, third time’s the charm?
—
After this week, you would never complain about waking up early again. You were now up at an absolutely ungodly hour, scrambling eggs, flipping pancakes, and spreading jam on toast for a sleeping, unsuspecting Steve.
You placed the plate on a sturdy wooden tray, poured orange juice and an extra glass of water, and set a nicely folded napkin, along with utensils, next to the items.
You hoped that the scent of bacon wafting up to your bedroom would eventually pull him out of his slumber, and seeing how bacon was the only thing left to finish cooking, you took a little break.
A round of Candy Crush turned into two, then three, and goddamnit, why can’t you beat this fourth level! You got so wrapped up in your mobile game that you didn’t even notice when the scent from your kitchen became slightly rancid, and when you rushed over to the oven to check on your now extremely burnt bacon, the smoke detector wailed.
You grabbed a kitchen towel and waved your arms like a madwoman near the smoke detector, the shrieking eventually stopping, but not before Steve was halfway down the stairs.
“Y/N, where are you? Is everything okay?” he nearly shouted, racing down the stairs and barreling through the smoky kitchen to find you. When he reached you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and began to pull you out of the kitchen.
“Steve, relax. Everything is okay. Except those pieces of bacon,” you rubbed your now sweaty palms on your pajama pants before breaking away from him to crack open the kitchen window.
“Christ, what happened? And why are you up so early?”
“I was trying to make you breakfast in bed,” you admitted, rather embarrassed by the dramatic scene you’d accidentally created. “Sorry,” you muttered.
Steve wrapped his arms around you once more, this time in a reassuring bear hug that left your cheeks pressed to his chest. “Don’t be. I really appreciate this, and everything else you’ve done this week. It’s the thought that counts, right?”
“I guess,” you mumbled into his shirt.
“Besides, everything else looks delicious. And you tried your best for me while trying something new. I think that’s really sweet of you.”
“Really?” you pried, looking up at him.
“Really,” Steve confirmed.
“Well, I think it would be really sweet of you if you went back to bed and got all cozy so I can take care of you.”
Steve chuckled softly, pressed a little kiss to your nose, then nodded, “yes ma’am.”
Quality Time
Steve had been in a bubbly mood since getting back from his mission, and for no particular reason. It wasn’t like you weren’t happy that your partner was happy, but feeling like you were out of the loop was slightly concerning.
Before you could let your thoughts run too wild, you decided to pop the question during one of your evening walks.
“Okay Steve, what is going on with you?” you asked, veering to the side of the trail when a biker rode past you.
“Nothing big. Nothing too important. I’m just out of service for the next three months,” Steve said casually, playing it cool.
“What?!” you paused, your brows raising and eyes widening in surprise as you searched his face for sincerity. “You’re serious?”
“Serious as a heart attack.”
“Steve!” you gasped happily, nearly roaring out his name in excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I was going to tell you before wining and dining you, but you beat me to it. So…?”
“…So I’m happy to have you back. I may need you to negotiate some time away from work for me in the next few months, then. I don’t wanna miss this preview of stay-at-home-dad-Steve.”
“Hey, don’t push it.”
“Oh, I’m planning on pushing it.”
Epilogue
The sun was beating down on you, but the soothing breeze that flowed past your checked blanket every so often provided a pleasant antidote to the summer heat.
You’d truly picked the best day for a picnic.
Despite spending a good amount of time with your partner, the last month and a half had truly felt like a whirlwind. You casually started looking for a forever home, found yourselves making plans for an early retirement, and you had a new, sneaking suspicion that a proposal was on the horizon.
In the midst of it all, Steve had suggested that the two of you take a midday tryst at your local park and throw yourselves a little picnic. Of course you obliged, because when your greek god of a boyfriend suggests going on a spur of the moment date, you agree.
You now watched the nearly cloudless sky with pure, unadulterated feelings of content and joy while Steve set a slice of cheese on a cracker, leaning over your body to feed you. As you opened your mouth, Steve paused abruptly at the soft vibration coming from his pocket.
Steve resumed as if nothing had changed, popping the cracker into your open mouth and letting his phone continue to ring.
“Don’t you wanna get that?” you questioned.
“It can wait,” Steve stated nonchalantly, slipping his phone out of his pocket and pressing decline with absolutely no hesitation before tossing the device to the edge of your blanket.
You didn’t realize how long you’d been waiting to hear those three words.
-------
a/n: this could’ve been solved in like 20 minutes by sitting down and taking a love language quiz together
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#chris evans x reader#chris evans x you#avengers fanfiction#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers fanfiction#captain america x reader#captain america x you
367 notes
·
View notes
Note
We all know how looks can be deceiving right? I’d love to request head cannons of Kuroo, Bokuto, Iwaizumi, Konoha, Terushima, and Atsumu with a gf that’s gifted with that super-soaker, wet-wet pussy, a pro at riding that dick, and has the gwak gwak thotty throat slobber 9000 but she is so shy, cute, and innocent at first glance. She looks like the soft-spoken librarian but when they get down and dirty, she puts her body to work and these bois just don’t know how to act from how amazing she is. Let’s say they teased her too much, so she revoked their sex privileges for a few days (not knowing how addicted these guys are on her body). Desperate bois are best bois 😈
:o
i’m shell shocked anon, you’ve blown my mind
Cw: hair pulling, super WAP, kinda fem dom but not really, severe pussy-whipped men
Kuroo
firstly, he thought you were the innocent type up until you sucked him off for the first time
Honestly, he thought you were a total virgin prude
It wasn't really his fault, you two had met as lab partners for an AP chemistry class
You know, a class full of nerds and people he just assumed would get a job and married when they were thirty
Looking back he should have caught on after seeing you unconsciously jerking of a test tube
But, contrary to popular belief, kuroo is not the social cue master
After a few months of dating, you guys were just a horny time-bomb
Ahh~ the first blow-job, one for the books
He should have known it was going to be good just from the way you were unzipping his jeans, was it normal to almost cum just for your girlfriend palming you?
When you did get his dick out and had it all the way down your throat within the minute, he really did think you were a godsend
He didn't even know what you were doing with his balls, but whatever it was it was working
You didn’t gag or cough, even when he grabbed that back of your head and practically face-fucking you
(the real kicker was when you licked your lips after he came and gave him that small fucking smirk, mans was done for and he knew it)
Even with all that, nothing, and I mean nothing compares to the first time you guys went at it
when I say that you guy made out for five minutes when he went under your panties and felt the pacific ocean in your panties
He was about to propose right there (and about to cum in his pants for the thousandth time)
He didn't need to but he still rubbed a few circles around your clit, but apparently, you were ready enough
Considering you grabbed his dick and fully sunk onto him in one motion
Poor baby didn't know what hit him
You had to have done this before, and if he hadn't met you in class he would have been sure you slept around and learned everything in the book
You would clench every time your sims met and- AND THAT THINGS WITH HIS BALLS AGAIN
His mind was bungled, especially after you had both come and you fell onto his chest going back to the shy and sweet version he knew you as.
What the hell was that????
Was he fucking you or were you fucking him?? Because at this point he didn't even care
After that experience, you fucked like bunnies, all the time, even in school more than a few times.
And we all know kuroo can't shut his mouth
And he always teases you about how cute and mouse like you are outside the bedroom and how it's like he’s dating two different girls
....that hit a nerve...
Two different girls??? Well he’ll just have to endure one girl until he realizes what a blessing you are
5 days, 120 hours, 7,200 minutes, and 432,000 seconds, that's how long he lasted
He was going insane, and so he explained that he didn't mean it in a bad way and that he loved how you acted
Forgiving him you rewarded the poor cat boy, 5 rounds for five days
(he didn't want to admit it but he’s pretty sure his dick would have fallen off if you didn't relent when you did)
(he just didn't want to admit that he was pussy-whipped)
Bokuto
You actually had met at a library
One of his teachers wanted him to get a bit of extra tutoring and volunteered you for the job.
You had hit it off great! Personality-wise
(you’ll never tell him but it was frustrating that he clearly didn't understand anything you were telling him)
And you were so sweet and cute, and such a good teacher
He would know that if he wasn't too busy just staring at you and thinking about you and thinking about what you like and what you wear outside of school
(or how good your lips look, or how your thighs look so soft, or that when you get up he can see under your skirt.)
Your guy’s first time was an experience
(bokuto is the cunny easting master, don't call me out)
More cunny juice = more food for owl man
He was excited, somewhere in his mind he knew that it was gonna get better from then on
He wasn't wrong either, although he didn't let your mouth near his dick just yet, he knew that would be good considering the ‘art’ you've created on his neck
The true fuckary started with him on top, but the second he was in you he...froze
Poor baby was shell shocked, you felt better than he had thought, and he just slumped over, you thought he came but he wasn’t ready for it to end so soon
He just sat there for a few minutes, fucked out, before you just decided to flip you both over
That was more his speed at the moment
So he grabbed onto your hips for dear life and you got working
Within two minutes the two of you had created a pool of juices on his bed (bokuto had a lot of precum ok), not that he really cared
You were not competing with anyone but he already had you 2 to 0
(point 1 for the meal and point 2 for being an Olympic dick-rider)
I am also a firm believer that bokuto thrusts up, he just can't help it
You are too addictive, or the way you ground onto him in between every bounce was addictive
I also don't believe that you could even truly deny bokuto sex, he was good at guilt-tripping and he was soooooo adorable
(not to mention the puppy dog eyes he does that could convince good to do his will)
So I’m sure the only way he wouldn't get sex would be no nut November.
(aka the devil's month of torture, actually not month, week give or take)
This year it just happens that he set a new record, 8 days
He went a whole 8 days without trying for sex
Truly he went about 10 days before he stopped begging and just took matters into his own hands
(under enough pressure Bokuto become a hard dom and no one can say otherwise)
The entire time he was telling you how pretty you were and how well your pussy takes him and that you had no ‘right’ to tell him he couldn’t have sex
He even gained a new phrase “this pussy belongs to me”
You were going to have to set some things straight once he was done ;)
Iwaizumi
You were on the student council, it felt sacrilegious to think anything but pure thoughts about anyone on the council
(that didn't really stop him)
honestly, from the moment his crush festered he wanted to ruin your little innocent vibe
You always smiled so sweetly at everyone, and just seemed like a true goody two shoes.
And that point seemed to have been correct when you began to date
Until! The fateful day where his perceived innocent girlfriend pulled a full 180 on him!
Firstly, you had offered, out of the blue, to suck him off in the middle of the movie you were watching.
Second, he asked if you knew how, and you giggled at him with that smile he loved so much
Thirdly, when you did get his dick out, you swirled some of the pre-cum on his tip with your thumb, he started getting a bit suspicious
Lastly, you completely swallowed him down, face pressing on his hip, cheeks hollowed.
That’s when he realized that you did know what you were doing
(that also arouse the thought that you had been with someone else, which was counteracted with the fact that you knew how to suck dick by practicing on hair brushed and popsicles)
((it also helped that you barely had a gag reflex))
Truly trying to put that to the test, dom iwa came right out, grabbing your hair and telling you to suck harder
And you impressed the man, to say the least
After that he had to fuck you, he really just had too
For the first time, he went with a solid missionary, just to test that waters
He didn’t think anyone's pussy should feel like that, but since you were his it was ok
All was well he was lost in the feeling of your pussy and the deciding moment was when you pulled him against you and started to grind your body onto his
You were putting a whole lot of body into it too, and you were so soft, and unless he wanted to cum early something was going to have to change
So he flipped and changed to doggy style, which made thighs worse???
From there you got tighter and he could see all of the wetness drips from your fold onto the sheets
Yup, you were the one for him
(solidified when he pulled your hair and you moaned like a street whore)
As for the no sex thing, that was a ride
It started when Makki asked you if you were always dripping for iwa
And after a week of no sex, he confessed to letting them on his phone and watching a recording of one of your nightly escapades and he was sorry
(and he just wanted to show them what they were missing, y’know brag a bit)
That was, and he says the only time, he let you try to dom him
You truly were the most amazing woman in the world
Konoha
( i made him kind of an ass lol sorry)
You wee the girl who sat next to him in class
(not to be mean, but he thought you were a nerd)
You always had your uniform covering everything and you were always playing with your short sleeves
You raised your hand a lot in class, always had a pencil to borrow
He just assumed that you had cobwebs in your pussy
Proven wrong at one of the volleyball teams parties, you had apparently been dragged there by a friend (surprising)
And you both were dragged onto some weird spin the bottle game
The bottle would spring and someone would draw an action from this jar and the two people would have to do it in a bedroom in the house
Seeing as that’’s how fate goes you and him were chosen
A blow-job card was chosen
And he laughed with a friend about how you wouldn’t know what to do
Mistake, that struck a real nerve, was this guy for real?
Oh hell no
Being the baddie you were, you walked to him, grabbed him by the arm, and locked lips, breaking away after a moment you asked if he was ready to go.
Poor boy didn't even respond, he just nodded and stood up
Two minutes in, he knew what he had done
You were blowing him like it would be your last time, it should be illegal to be able to suck someone off that well
And damn you pulled away right before he was going to cum.
And then just left him! Walked out of the closet like nothing had ever happened
That couldn’t be it, he wouldn't let that be it
After two weeks of non-stop begging from the guy you agreed to a date, which led to many dates
Which led to him finally being able to fuck you
God damn, he didn't think it would get better, and it did, it really did.
You were laying on top of him and grinding your entire body onto him
Dripping all over him and squeezing him like crazy
He was never going to let you go
Now, that same friend from that party seemed very intrigued with your relationship
And he just can't help but tell him about how amazing you were, it just sucks that he did it right in front of you in the middle of lunch
Pussy pass revoked
He didn't think he did anything wrong so he went two whole weeks without any touch and he went crazy
He fell apart and apologized
After he begged enough you gave him the pussy pass back
And now he doesn't do anything to jeopardize it
Terushima
this is gonna sound weird
But
I feel like terushima knows when someone is a good lay
It's like a secret talent of his, he just knows and his radar went off when he saw you
But he thought it was wrong at first considering you were wearing leggings and a huge sweater
Not good fuck material
But he had to make sure, so he just walked up to you and asked if you were a good fuck
Surprisingly you didn’t punch him in the nuts, instead, you laughed at him and said that he would just have to find out
And that he should at least take you out to dinner first
Adm he took you up it, made it the best damn dinner date he’d ever be on
And you reward him
With what?
The best damn blow-job he’d ever get as long as he lived.
And it fit that to the T
It started with the little licks and swirls, then, you gotta catch the man off guard, and just take his entire dick in your throat
And with that, he was sure he had superpowers
When He came, fairly quick for his taste, you swallowed all of his cum and he was ready to marry you
If he needed to take you on a date for that, he would take you on a date every day for the rest of his life
(not every day) but that's what he did
But eventually, just a blowjob wasn't enough, oh no he knew you had a tight hole
And he knew you were gushing most of the time (ushy gushy my pussy-)
If making him suck the fingers you used to fuck yourself after he came was anything
And you tasted good, really good
He was so ready for it that he let you ride him the whole night
He thought his dick was a]going to fall off, you were just that damn good
It was insane, you were almost using him as a dildo, grinding your clit on the base of his cock
And you looked glorious, he was going to have to talk to you about recording it so he could watch it over and over
Maybe show a few people-
And that's what he did, poor unfortunate soul got the silent treatment for two days before he fell apart
He literally got on his knees and asked for forgiveness
(biggest simp on the planet, but only for you (and your dripping cunt))
He’s sure to never do it again, he’s also sure that if you asked him to step on him he would let you
(and I think he’s the most pussy-whipped)
Ok maybe you didn't fully forgive him until he showed you what his tongue piercing could do, but it was worth every moment.
Atsumu
Honestly, he was dared to sleep with the next girl who walked through the cafeteria door
And that just happens to bring you, miss. I remind the teacher there was homework
(Well he actually wasn’t really sure about that but that's what you looked like and he was already regretting his decision.)
In defense of him, your hair was in a messy bun and you had this teacher's pet aura around you
But he would be damned if he lost this bet to his brother and Suna, oh no
The moment he wa[lked up to your table you knew what was happening, and shut it down immediately
After that, you officially had his attention!
Lucky you!
Unlucky you for the fact that all he wanted to do was get in your pants.
But lucky you again because you could hold this over his head!
But one day you just woke up and chose dick (respectable)
So when atsumu did his daily “c'mon baby, you know you want some” you just stood up, scaring him
(he finally thought you were gonna kill him)
Instead, you grabbed him by the dick, literally grabbed his dick through his pants, and tugged him all the way to the roof
“Hey-hey baby, no need to be that rough”
“Shut up, Miya. pants down, now”
That was not where he thought that was going but he isn't going to complain.
“You want your dick wet so bad? Here you go!”
Honestly, he could die happy.
Not so sound gross, but you were slobbering around his cock like a pro. Now that left the thought, you had to have done this before.
You had hands on the back of his thighs pushing him further down your throat, hollowed cheeks, damn he should’ve done this was sooner
He was gonna cum-
And your mouth was gone, your hand was jerking him but that wasn't nearly as nice
“Lay back.”
Yes, yes he will do that. If what’s about to happen is what he thinks is about to happen
And now your pussy was above his face. Ok a little detour but he’ll take it
You were literally dripping onto his face while he got to work, and you went back to sucking him off
Yup, heaven.
After you both came he made sure to tell you that that had to happen again.
And it did, you rode him to hell in the hole to heaven, and he couldn't help himself from telling the entire volleyball team about how good you were
Now he really didn't think about what would happen if the news got back to you
But he definitely didn't think that meant a whole week of nothing
Well nothing for him, you made sure to send him more than a few videos of rigid dildos and fingering yourself
A week of torture, but when it was finally over he had an entirely new folder of spanking material
he was sure about who he told about your escapades, as in he told himself and Osamu if he just wanted to vent
poor guy was paranoid now
#kurro x reader#kuroo smut#kuroo x reader smut#kuroo tetsurou x reader#kuroo tetsurou x reader smut#bokuto x reader#bokuto smut#bokuto x reader smut#bokuto koutarou x reader smut#bokuto koutarou x reader#iwaizumi x reader#iwazumi x reader#iwaizumi smut#iwaizumi x reader smut#iwaizumi haijime x reader#iwaizumi haijime x reader smut#konoha x reader#konoha smut#konoha x reader smut#atsumu x reader#atsumu smut#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu miya x reader smut#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader smut#terushima x reader#terushima x reader smut#terushima smut#terushima yuji x reader
683 notes
·
View notes
Text
Leorio, Hisoka, Illumi, and Chrollo Head Canons #2
What’s up y’all! Thank you so much to the people who have given me feedback about what posts you all would like to see! This post will be about the “Adult Trio” and Leorio about how they would help their significant other with a subject in college. This one is a good suggestion! I’m going to incorporate fluff in this, as I am a sucker for fluff. I hope you all enjoy this! I most certainly do. This post is about 2687 words but don't worry, it's worth the read! These head canons came from my mind its a coincidence that some of these pictures match the thoughts. Portentous (old English) means wonderful or marvelous (in modern English) FYI: I am thinking about creating a discord server for both Voltron and Hunter x Hunter fans. I don’t know how to use the fancy perks of discord yet, so if you know how to and can help me out, send me a message! Alright, let’s get to it! Obviously these images are from Pinterest.
Discord Server for Voltron and HxH fans!
Leorio
“Mr. Leorio”, as we all know, is a sharp guy. He dresses in a suit, carries a suitcase, and wants to be a doctor. This man knows everything about academics, especially math and science. He will need to know these subjects to be a successful medical doctor.
Leorio received an A- in Calculus II and a B+ in Organic Chemistry. He was the only one that passed with flying colors while everyone else barely made it. He didn’t gloat in their faces but as soon as he got into the hallway he jumped for joy.
He was extremely happy about his progress and counted the days until graduation even though that was in 5 years. Wow! Don’t we love graduate school?!
He deserved the high grades because he spent countless nights studying missing parties, football games, and being with you just to make sure he was on the right track to graduating on time.
As we all know, Leorio wanted to pursue this career because he witnessed his best friend dying in front of him powerless to save him. The care for his friend would have been too expensive. Obtaining his degree was in honor of his friend; he’d save countless children, women, and men who’d all thank him for his hard work.
Leorio didn’t socialize much, but he did find himself hanging around a group of classmates that were a part of a co-ed fraternity that provided information on scholarship money for graduate school and job opportunities. This is where he met you. You didn’t want to be a doctor but instead wanted to be a computer scientist and decided to volunteer for this fraternity job fair.
As he rejoiced, his smile faded when he saw you walking down the hallway; tears falling from your face not caring who stared at you. He quickly walked up to you, put his arm around your back, and gave you a soft hug.
“What’s the matter,” he asks.
You were failing Calculus, a class you’ve been taking since the 12th grade but for some reason, you couldn’t pass it. Everyone else had A’s and B’s, while you had a D. D’s aren't accaetable in college; most make you retake the class.
“Don’t worry. I’ve just passed my midterm. I can help you study. You’ll pass; trust me.”
Later on that evening, he kept his promise but gave it a unique twist. He kept the lights off and lit 4 Yankee-sized candles in the room that smelled like Lavender. In the background, he had piano jazz playing on his speaker. You felt confused for a moment. You and Leorio weren’t necessarily dating but you both flirted with each other here and there. He wasn’t a social butterfly, but he felt comfortable talking to you.
“Um...what’s the music for?”
“It helps me concentrate. Believe it or not, it helps my brain flow. You like it don’t you?”
“No, actually I don’t.” Truth be told you loved it but you wanted to pull his strings a little. He looked up with a confused look.
“Ok. I’ll turn it off.”
“I'm kidding! It’s great!”
Whenever he cannot solve a Calculus question, he reviews similar problems from Algebra II. He applies this knowledge to your problem.
“Perform the indicated function evaluations for f(x)=3−5x−2x^2 . I’ll solve the first part for an example: f(6+t) simply means you will exchange “x” for 6+t. It will look like f(6+t)=3-5(6+t)-2(6+t)^2=-49 . You’d distribute -5 and -2 to the numbers inside of the brackets in which they are next to.”
Wow, that was easy! Wait, not he must think you’re stupid.
“You must think I’m stupid, don’t you?”
“Of course not! It took me a while to understand it too. You’ll apply the same knowledge for the rest.”
After what seemed like 4 hours (which was 2), you finally finished your homework! It was probably wrong but at least you made it past the 1st question! As you blew out the candles and turned on your LED lights instead, you see Leorio sleeping on your couch. Something about his soft face made you smile and place your hand over your heart.
“My little doctor,” you whispered to yourself.
“Well, come give this doctor some company then. I’m freezing over here!”
The throw blanket was large enough for you both. Snuggling on the couch was a great end to a stressful day.
Chrollo
To everyone else Chrollo was “Boss” or “Boss Man” but to you, he was Chrollo. Big C was known for his love for poetry and language.
He read poetry any chance he had at lunch and even dinner. It had gotten so bad that you had to tell him for the millionth time “No books at the table!”
Given his past, he always read at least 2 hours a day or one book a week. Reading is what got him through the day.
He was staying in your dorm for the day to relax because he had taken and passed his midterms to. The young thief thought about hiding in the closet but he didn’t because he sensed that you’d be tense because of midterms.
As you walked through the door, you looked angry, so angry that you could punch a wall. He immediately rose to his feet, threw his arms straight out in front of him, and motioned for you to stop. You just stared at him blankly.
“Come here,” he said like you, on cue, melted in his arms. He was warm and the deepness of his cooing voice vibrated against your neck. “What’s the problem?”
“I’m failing this stupid Shakespeare class!”
“Really?”
“Yes and if I don’t pass this midterm I’m going to fail the class for the 3rd time. I want to drop out! Who needs this scam anyway?!”
Chrollo held you a bit longer until you were ready to sit down and get to business. You pulled out your college’s book about Shakespeare plays and how he used Old English. Chrollo was the perfect man for the job! He’s read Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet several times!
Chrollo read a few stanzas and explained them. He then had you read some on your own and explain them...still you can’t.
He notices the problem immediately. He catches you snuggling comfortably against his toned arm, nearly falling asleep.
Chrollo laid at the very corner of the couch as you lay horizontally placing your head against his chest. You were comfortable but you weren’t able to focus. He notices this and slightly demands that you go sit at the table. When it came to academics, he was serious.
For as long as he had been reading, he has an arsenal of vocabulary words ready to be of use. He created flashcards for you and had you flip them over for nearly an hour. You start to memorize the words!
But you’re not done yet.
“Say the word ‘portentous’.”
“Por-ten-trious…?”
“No. Por-ten-tas.”
“Tias…?”
He moved his chair next to you, just an inch away from your face. He cups your mouth and moves it as he speaks again. This wasn’t a hard clutch, it was soft and he wasn’t irritated but he could sense that you were becoming irritated.
“Por-ten-tas,” he said again.
Instead of letting your cheeks go, his eyes diverted to your lips. They were moist and plump, ready to be met by his.
“Your lips are gorgeous. Kisseth me quite quaint.”
Oh no. Look at the monster you’ve created.
Chrollo created a reward system. Whenever he did things right as a child, he was rewarded with money and jewels. For every word you pronounced and defined correctly, he kissed you once. For each word you got correct in a row, he’d kiss you twice.
Soon enough he had kissed you so much that you couldn’t see straight!
The kisses worked because you passed your midterm! Each kiss placed a stain in your brain that made you remember the definition and how to pronounce it.
You and Chrollo celebrated by drinking champagne and listened to him read Sonnet 23 and 57.
Hisoka
As unusual as it seems, Hisoka is gifted when it comes to Chemistry specifically. That is why you two work well together...there is some chemistry going on between you two.
His hair down and his glasses were his alter ego, it was something that made him act completely different than what you were used to.
When you all were freshmen, he would skip class, attend parties, and would be hungover almost every week but once he was called into the Dean’s office, he changed.
You slightly missed that edgy side of him, but you enjoyed having a serious beau.
Hisoka is a social butterfly and is the life of the conversation and you loved him for it but sometimes it was awkward.
While he was chatting away about Calcium (Ca) and Iron (Fe), you stood there nodding like an idiot. You had NO IDEA about what he was talking about and that is why you were going to drop your chemistry class.
“I saw an imbecile put aluminum foil in the microwave and it burst into flames. How did they not know that Microwaves are the radio waves falling under frequency around 2500 megahertz? Any metallic object detected by radio waves inside the microwave acts as a reflector of radio waves.”
You shove his arm hard. He was acting arrogant in front of his friends. You were used to this but it got on your nerves. You made mistakes, everyone does!...even those that almost burn down the entire dorm room.
You two leave the party and head to his dorm room. Once you were settled, you released a can of anger and threw it all over your boyfriend.
“Hisoka? You just humiliated me.”
“Oh? No one knows that I was talking about you, my dear.”
“Don’t ‘my dear’ me! I asked for your help and you’re ignoring me. I don’t appreciate that. I didn’t ignore you when you sprained your ankle, did I?”
“No, you didn’t, dear. I supposed I have a few hours to kill. What do you need help with?”
Hisoka’s way of studying was much different from other students. He exercises like crazy before he opens his textbook.
He listens to EDM instrumentals while on the treadmill and when he lifts weights. You weren’t standing there like a trophy, he made you lift too.
“Being healthy will help your brain flow more easily. Lift this dumbbell as heavy as you can.”
He ran a mile on the track upstairs. Sweat dripped from his face like he had been standing outside in the rain.
By the time you returned to his dorm, you were beyond tired. You laid your head on his pillow but just as you closed your eyes, he pulled you up on your feet.”
“Not on my watch,” he tutted. “It’s chemistry time.”
You were having trouble memorizing Chemical Formulas and this by far was the most difficult concept you had come across.
To make you stay awake, he turned on a bright LED light and faced it towards the table. The bright light nearly made your head fall off from the pain it reflected in your eyes.
Hisoka grabbed his book and began to write down the major chemicals on the periodic table and their charges.
“Pay attention to the following abbreviations and charges: Calcium is Ca, Chloride is Cl+2, Carbide is C+2, and Carbon Dioxide is CO+2. Read these over and I’ll test you again.”
He did just that but you still weren’t understanding. You were ready to give up.
Stupid scam. Why do I need a piece of paper to determine what I can do? You thought to yourself. Well, it’s obvious. If you can’t do the work now, what makes you think you can do it at a job? Harsh, I know.
“Let me try this,” He said. He carried you to his bedroom and gently placed you on it. He took off his shirt and removed his glasses. “Aluminum has a charge of +3 and Oxygen has -2. If there were three of me and two of my clones disappeared, how many of me are left?”
“Just you, right? One”
“Correct! Excellent.”
Wow, everything started making sense once he took his shirt off.
From then, he just inserted himself into the equation and then it started to make sense! He apologized for running his mouth earlier and promised to keep any more secrets between you two. The night ended with you sleeping in his bed wrapped in a cotton blanket just cuddling and that was it. And bam! You slept as sound.
Illumi
Dating the “hot” quiet history buff was a flex of its own. Sure Illumi didn’t talk to anyone besides you, but it didn’t matter. People swooned if he looked in their direction.
History was a popular major during your era. People were not like their grandparents; they wanted to learn about other cultures besides their own. Illumi’s specialty was in world history and civilizations. The class was very interesting to you but there was so much information, you could barely process it.
Illumi often wrote his essays in one day proofread and all! He often charged people to look their essays over.
One time he made $500 in one year!
Glancing at your transcripts, he notices that you have a C- and offers to help.
“Why are you looking through my stuff?”
Hey, he’s your boyfriend! But still, he should ask.
“Sorry. It was up on the screen,” he said, throwing his hands in the air.
You began to blush in embarrassment. The hottest smartest man in the building now knew that you were failing one of the easiest classes on campus.
Placing his thumb under your chin, he lifted your head to meet his gaze. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I can help you.”
“How? I am so behind! I zoned out after chapter 2!”
“We’ll watch a movie.”
“Oh, God! Not one from PBS is it?!”
“Yes. How else are you supposed to learn?”
He turns on the movie and allows you to lay your head on his shoulder but not too much. He is aware of your tricks and he wants you to pay attention.
Every 15 minutes, he pauses the movie and asks you checkpoint questions. If you got them wrong, you had to stand up with your underclothes on (t-shirt and shorts) in the cool room for 10 minutes. If you got the questions right, he allows you to lay more comfortably. You were already in your underclothes but you were under the blanket.
He made you write down key definitions and the embarrassment of each section.
After the movie, he blindfolds you and reads out a term. Surprisingly, you got them all correct!
As a reward for your past midterm, he takes you to dinner at a restaurant where he slips a promise ring on your finger containing your birthstone.
#hunter x hunter#hunter x hunter headcanons#hunter x 1999#hunter x meme#hunter x reader#hunter x 2011#chrollo x reader#chrollo x y/n#chrollo x you#hisoka x you#hisoka morrow#hisoka x y/n#hisoka x reader#hisoka x oc#hisoka fluff#chrollo fluff#illumi fluff#leorio fluff#leorio x you#leorio x reader#adult trio#illumi x y/n#illumi x reader#illumi x you#hunter x hunter x reader#hunter x hunter x you#chrollo lucilfer#hxh fandom#hxh 2011#leorio paladiknight
182 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reid and Chopsticks
Summary: Spencer is known to be unable to eat with chopsticks. But what about his daughter, who the team has yet to meet?
Warnings: Mentions of death of a loved one
Word count: 1.3k
✨Masterlist✨
________________________________________________________
“Yo Reid, we wanna get some Chinese tomorrow. Are you in?” asks Morgan the young doctor. It’s Friday evening after a rather long and draining case. So Hotch gave the team a free weekend. The decision to get together as a team with everyone’s family and significant other was made a few minutes ago.
“Uh, yes I think I am.” Spencer seems in a bit of a rush as he grabs his satchel and go back. He wishes everyone a good night and off he is. Morgan shrugs to himself. Maybe a new episode of Dr Who airs and he wants to see it right away for once.
There is something different, that catches not only his but also the rest of the team’s suspicion: Reid running late.
“Hey Morgan, can you tell the others that I come half an hour later, please?” Surprised he agrees and hangs up. After that Derek is met with several puzzled faces.
“What is it, hot stuff?” breaks Penelope the silence while sipping on some sort of cocktail.
He situates himself back into his seat next to Garcia and Rossi and explains: “Reid told me he is late.” This wakes worry in everyone. The last time something like this happened was when their beloved youngster was using. Anxiety settles around the table, except for the young ones. Henry and Jack are talking happily without a single problem on their minds.
Exactly half an hour later Spencer enters the restaurant. The little bell above the door alerts the team. But the picture that lies ahead of them is nothing they ever expected.
“Hey guys. Sorry I’m late, but (Y/N)’s grandma brought her home with a bit of a delay due to traffic” explains Reid and gestures to the young girl next to him. She can’t be older than six years.
Emily is the first one to break the silence. “And you don’t think there are more things that need an explanation?”
The girl looks uncomfortable at everyone before trying to hide behind the doctor’s legs. Under different circumstances the women on the team would have made a sound of adoration. The situation is just too bizarre to mind anything other than Spencer Reid, the man with the Reid-Effect, has a comforting hand on her shoulder and looks of love for her.
“Uh, yes. This is (Y/N), my daughter. Sweetheart, these are the people I told you about. You know who is who, right?” He asks and crouches down to her height. A shy nod and a quick look to the ‘people’ he referred to are the answers.
“Do you want to sit next to Henry and Jack? They are about your age.” “No. I want to sit with you, Daddy” she nearly whispered.
Before the doctor is able to do it himself, Penelope pulls up two chairs next to her and waves them over. With a nod Spencer thanks her and seats both of them onto them.
“So (Y/N), how old are you?” JJ asks, while watching her son from the corner of her eyes. The girl shifts uncomfortably and looks up at her father.
He clears his throat before answering: “(Y/N) is five years old since last month. We had a nice little party, didn’t we?” She nods while concentrating on the little sloth plushie in her hands. Derek notices it and let's be real: He is desperate to connect with his best friend’s daughter.
“Are sloths your favorite animals? Because they definitely are mine.” Again she nods, but this time (Y/N) looks up to the muscle man and has an expression of excitement on her face.
Finally a waitress comes by and takes everyone’s order.
“And what is it for you, sweetie?” she asks in a real friendly manner.
Reid answers for his daughter and orders noodles with spring rolls. After a little tug on his shirt sleeve he adds a small milkshake with a smile. Seemingly satisfied (Y/N) leans a bit back in her chair, toying with her stuffed animal.
“Hey (Y/N), do you wanna color these menus in like the boys do?” Penelope proposes and motions to the papers another waiter brought to the table earlier. She nods and lets the blonde move her chair. Together they work on the menus.
“Reid, since when do you have a daughter, man? Don’t get me wrong, parenthood really suits you. But when did this happen?” Morgan whispers after making sure the girl is too distracted to pay attention to the conversation. After all Garcia babbles on about her favorite animals of all times. One can only imagine the length of this list.
The doctor blushes at the compliment and explains the story.
“(Y/N) happened a-a while ago, like you can imagine. Her mother and I stayed good friends and I helped and visited them as often as possible. Six months ago her mother was diagnosed with brain cancer. Inoperable. (Y/N) was set to watch her slowly getting weaker and weaker. She died 68 days ago. Since 93 days (Y/N) lives with me, though her grandmother took a hotel room for the time being to help both of us adjusting to our new lives. Next week she leaves to go back to San Francisco. That’s why I thought it’s a good opportunity to have you all meet each other.”
The whole team is shocked by this. Again, fate wasn’t kind to their fellow colleague. But he makes the best out of this situation and this quality is something that everyone around the table admires.
“I’m sorry to hear this, Spence. But whenever you need help, don’t be afraid to ask for it. Will and I will be happy to babysit (Y/N), when you need us to. I’m sure she and Henry will be good friends once she warms up” JJ offers, Will nodding along in agreement.
With that the whole team and their significant others also volunteer to help.
Thankful Spencer smiles and his shoulders relax, like a big weight is taken off of them. His answer, which would more likely be a rambling about some statistics because it’s his way to show his emotions, is cut short due to the waitress bringing everyone’s dish.
After a few minutes of happy eating and praising the food, Spencer feels a tug on his sleeve. He looks down to his daughter, a loving look immediately takes place in his eyes.
“What is it, Sweetheart?” But (Y/N) only gestures him to come closer. Unbeknown to them the team gets quieter.
“I don’t know how to eat with two sticks.” This confession melts every heart.
“It’s not a problem, because I also don’t know how to eat with them”, Spencer tries to make her feel better. Also it’s the truth.
Luckily Emily is willing to save the situation and prepares two sets of chopsticks with hair ties. (Y/N)’s face lights up at her help and she takes the sticks gratefully. Still she struggles to get at least one noodle between them.
As endearing this may look, Hotch wants to put the little girl out of her misery and gets up to get a fork. He also grabs one for Spencer, so (Y/N) doesn’t feel lonely being the only one to use it. And it’s the only way the doctor is able to eat his food while it’s still warm.
A small “thank you” is muttered by her, her eyes sparkling at the usually tough agent. But just a glance at this coax a smile on Hotch’s face.
And this is the story how (Y/N) Reid wrapped the whole BAU team around her small fingers without even saying a word to them.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x child!reader#spencer reid x daughter!reader#Criminal Minds#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#i also am unable to eat with chopsticks#fanfiction
754 notes
·
View notes
Note
General #7
Hiiii! Okay, well I bet you thought I forgot about this! Or, more than likely, you forgot you even requested this back in Decemeber. But never fear, my child. I remembered and have been thinking of this fic and what to write for months.
And so I’m so sorry, I’m a total perfectionist and I started and discared like 3 ideas for this before deciding on this oneshot sooo if this sucks, I’m at least comforted by the fact that I accomplished something in writing this itself? That sentence made zero sense but... I’m tired 🤷🏼♀️😅.
Prompt : General # 7 :
“Is that blood?”
“Yes but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is-”
“You are literally bleeding.”
Anyways, thank you for the prompt and here we go!
Whispers Of Light
I don't know exactly how I got roped into this. How exactly Delly Cartwright, Peeta's best friend—and alright, my friend now too—managed to convince me to help her and Leevy and about three dozen other members of the community with sorting boxes.
Sorting boxes. Organizing contents. Decorating with "found treasures".
The type of activities Prim loved doing with our mother. The type of activities I refused to do after my father died, to punish my mother for her depression.
The type of activities I now kick myself for walking out on, that I'll never be able to take back. I'll never be able to get those moments back with my sister. I'll never know what those hours between her and our mother entailed, because I chose to exclude myself, just so I could hold onto my petty anger for something that was out of all our control.
Maybe that's why I agreed to help Delly and the others with sorting through boxes upon boxes of debrief, of the items that scarcely survived Twelve's bombing almost two years ago. Maybe I only agreed out of guilt, both for never doing this type of endeavor with my sister and for being the direct cause of the bombing itself.
But whatever my reasons were, I agreed to help nonetheless, and I always follow through my promises. If there was one part of me forged in the war, if only one minor aspect of me was amplified in the smoke and haze and blood of revolution, it was the importance of keeping your promises, against all odds.
The dire consequences of a broken promise has long lasting aftereffects, beyond anything either Haymitch or I wish to dwell on.
"Katniss!" Delly calls, holding up an old, half-ripped paper book that is completely void of a front cover. "Look! I think this book is from the old Apothecary Shop!"
I squint at the dusty, decimated item, not entirely convinced. "I don't think so?" I murmur, unable to even decipher the words on the now melted, conjoined pages. "I'm pretty sure my mother kept the only apothecary book in her family?"
Kanon Bagley turns to inspect the battered item in his girlfriend's hands as well. "I don't think this is a medicinal plant book, Dells," he says sheepishly, a small smirk playing on his lips.
She gives him an incredulous look. "What do you mean medicinal?"
I peer up at him too, not comprehending his meaning any more than Delly. "What kind of plants do you think are in here?" I ask, taking the nearly destroyed object myself and flipping through the worn pages again, seeing odd herbs that neither of my parents ever mentioned or had on hand. "These don't look like the poisonous ones my father told me about?"
Kanon bites back a laugh now and I can't help feeling a little perturbed. As kind and soft-spoken as he usually is, I'm foreign to the feeling of him laughing at me. "What?" Delly snaps at him before I even can.
He still chuckles though, in spite of both our nasty glares. "You guys, it's a book of plants that'll get you high."
It takes a full minute for the meaning to dawn on me. Long enough that Leevy and a couple guys I used to go to school with come over to inspect the book as well. Long enough that they confirm Kanon's assessment just as I realize we're talking about plants that'll make you feel akin to how the morphling made me feel while confined for I killing Coin.
While everyone else snickers—and Delly full on chortles—I pass the book back to Kanon, sliding out of the crowd and moving towards a brand new box of savaged items.
It's not that the mention of plant-based drugs is a trigger for me. It's not something I ever truly gave any thought to before, to be honest. My father likely knew of them but it's not like he was about to bestow that kind of knowledge on his eleven-year-old and my mother perhaps felt it was inappropriate to mention.
No, it wasn't the subject in itself that hit a sore spot for me. But like so many times before, it's where the subject led my mind. It's where the topic took me back to.
Snow's Execution Day. The day I chose to kill President Coin instead. Being thrown back into my old tribute room. Getting high on the morphling.
Trying to forget all that I'd lost. Trying to forget my little sister becoming a human torch before my very eyes. My district engulfed in flames. The ambiguous loss of my best friend.
The connection between me and Peeta that I believed then would be permanently severed. That I believed then to be irreparable.
I suppose I believed then I was irreparable too.
And I miss Peeta suddenly, even more than I already did. Because he always knows what to say when my thoughts turn dark, when I'm suddenly triggered out of the happy, every day events and suctioned backwards to a war torn bird with her wings clipped.
But he's not here to talk me down or scare away the ghosts haunting my mind. He's not here to comfort me or even shoot me a supportive glance. No, he's at his very busy business today.
Peeta's bakery—the Mellark Bakery—has only proven to withstand the test of time these past few months. Since someone accidentally burned down the place, with nothing more than a croissant and a fancy Capitol toaster, the rebuilt bakery has been nothing but a success.
And also extremely time-consuming, I grumble internally, as I begin to pull out stuffed toys that once belonged to dead children.
"If any of those are still intact, we can donate them to the community home," Leaf John says as he opens the box across from me.
"And what exactly are we supposed to be use as decorations from these boxes?" I murmur, peering into another cardboard container, full of half-charred papers and cloths.
The general idea of today, as Delly had pitched it to me last week, was to help the community of Twelve finally sort through these boxes, donate what we could to those in need and decorate the new Justice Building with the leftover contents inside.
Somehow though I can't imagine pinning up terrible drawings of plants that'll inebriate you or headless teddy bears is going to bode well with the district.
Delly rolls her eyes in my direction—a whole new kind of response that I never thought I'd be receiving from the girl who skipped through the town square until she was fourteen years old—before nodding towards boxes on top of the ladder. "We're decorating the Justice Building with the surviving photos from those boxes, Katniss."
"Oh." Then why am I sorting these grimy, dirt-covered playthings? Why didn't anyone give me more clear instructions on today?
And why has it taken almost two years for Twelve to get a group of people together to organize the surviving items from the bombing?
I have no idea how Peeta's managed to get two bakeries built in the time it's taken for thirty-eight of us to come to the Justice Building and look through fifty cardboard boxes. And if I'm being honest, I have no idea why I'm even still here helping. I'm clearly not contributing much to the event. There's definitely more than enough volunteers without me.
And, of course, I could be at the bakery right now. Without a doubt, I'd be of more service there than I am here, digging through dusty knickknacks. I could be helping Peeta and Thom and the other part-time employees, exerting more knowledge and authority than I have here.
After all, Peeta did say the bakery was partially mine. In his mind, at least.
The ulterior motive of getting small, fleeting moments with my boyfriend, of basking in the feeling of safety with him beside me, of the occasional stolen kiss or hand squeeze when no one is looking, runs through the back of my mind.
And sways my decision immensely.
I open my mouth to tell Delly and the others that I'm about to head out, that they clearly have it covered here and I'm just in the way, when at the worst possible second, Leevy kindly murmurs, "Katniss, do you mind starting on the box on the ladder? Seeing if any of the pictures are in decent enough shape?"
I hesitate for a long moment, realizing immediately my predicament. It'd be rude to leave right after someone just essentially assigned me a task. I did agree to be here today, to help out with this tedious project. Leaving right now would only come off as rude and inconsiderate.
This is the reason I never did enjoy group assignments in school. The longer I'm here, the more I'm rediscovering this fact about myself. The division of the workload, the bore of the standing around, not knowing if you're doing the right or wrong thing, the lack of total control.
But I still nod after waiting a beat too long and agree with the nicest flare in my tone I can manage.
I'll go through the one box at the top of the ladder and then subtly make my exit afterwards. The image I unintentionally conjured up of Peeta and the bakery is still pulling at me, making me anxious to get back to him, to see him again even though we were together only three hours ago.
Since we officially became a couple a few months back—though Haymitch scoffs at that notion, claiming we've been together since Peeta first started sleeping over in my bed—I've found myself growing far more clingy to him than I ever could have anticipated. I hate when he leaves for the bakery in the mornings now, even as I still revel in the solace I find inside the woods. I look forward to his return home every night. More than even look forward to it, I'm usually at the bakery around the closing hours, helping him clean and inventory, asking him when he's coming home. Maybe looking somewhat unconsciously flirtatious as I say it.
I grab the box sitting on the ladder's top stair and pull it open, easily maintaining my balance one rung down, the same way I maintain my balance on a tree branch while hunting.
Inside pours out a plethora of photographs, mostly of Twelve's now past citizens. Near the top of the pile I see images of Greasy Sae's daughter, Dolly. The mother of her granddaughter. The daughter who died of croup a few years before the war.
Those photos must belong to Sae, I realize. Which means more of her items are probably scattered throughout the boxes here. And despite the fact that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she'll tell me not of be impractical, that if she's made it two years without these things she doesn't need them now, I still make a mental note to return her lost items. If nothing else, I make a mental promise to give back to her the photos of her daughter.
I know better than anyone what kind of comfort photographs of the deceased can provide.
As if in line with my thoughts, as if I alone manifested it somehow, the next image that catches my eye is one I entirely do not anticipate.
It's a shiny photo, on the kind of glossy paper my family could never afford. In the image is a blonde man with broad shoulders and a tall build. Wrapped in his embrace stands a petite girl, with long blonde curls and mascara accentuating her already long lashes. The couple both have eyes that match the color of the sky and are dressed up in some of the nicest clothes in all of Twelve. A white dress with lace. A gray suit with a black vest. The pretty girl wears jewelry and lipstick and there's a familiar glint in the male's eyes and I find myself mesmerized.
And I can't pretend I don't see my boyfriend in both of their faces. I can't pretend Peeta isn't the spitting image of both his parents.
He has his mother's smile, I realize with startling assurance. I never saw the witch smile personally, at any point in my life so I suppose I wouldn't know where he got his charming, sweet grin from.
The mannerism looks so out of place on his mother. The kind smile Peeta has, the one that could light up a blackened sky, doesn't bode with the woman in the picture, even on her wedding day. The charming smile doesn't fit with what I know of the woman's character. With what little about her Peeta chooses to share.
But I'm even more surprised to find how much Peeta has come to resemble his father. How much Peeta has grown to favor the now deceased man.
The last time I saw the baker—the original baker, that is. Haidon Mellark—before the Quarter Quell, I resented the fact that Peeta wasn't as tall or as broad as his father. I privately believed if he'd inherited those traits, he'd be even more likely to win the games again and I could worry about him less.
Peeta was always taller than me and was always remarkably strong, after working in the bakery since childhood. But his father was a whole different level. Haidon Mellark, I'd forgotten until now, had a body that could only rival my own father's.
And as it turns out, Peeta did inherit Haidon's physicality. He just also happened to be a late bloomer. Like his mother, I imagine, staring at her tiny frame in the picture.
The change in Peeta's form occurred so gradually I barely even noticed until a couple months ago, when I woke up with my head against his heart and abruptly realized just how broad he had become. Until I couldn't even reach to kiss his jaw on my tip toe. Until he started laughing at me and had to lift me up in order to properly embrace the way I like.
"Katniss?" I hear Delly beckon, trying to bring me back to reality. Trying and failing, that is. I hear her but only in a vague, distant sense. My mind is still stuck on the image in my grasp. Still stuck on the novelty that I managed to find a remembrance for the boy who still at times questions if his memory is full of lies.
"I still cry about my family and somedays I can't even remember their faces."
I never even considered the possibility of finding a token of Peeta's departed family here. It never occurred to me, the potential finds in this box at my fingertips, that I could take home to my boyfriend. I never imagined finding him something to hold onto when the inevitable dark day came again like a storm cloud, full of thunder.
I'm so entranced what this could mean for Peeta, so lost in my own little world, that I'm barely even hanging onto the ladder. I'm definitely not as steady as I should be, standing near the top rung.
And I'm definitely not steady enough to hang on when Delly gives it a rough shake, trying to catch my attention.
/
The boxes break my fall. Sort of. Kanon and Leaf John had taken the liberty of placing the empty cardboard, already looked through and emptied, beneath the ladder.
Falling headfirst into a large, void box is better than falling plainly onto the filthy, concrete tile floor. But not ideal. Not as helpful as falling into a box of surviving clothes or toys would have been.
Delly apologized profusely for shaking the ladder. She'd even begun to cry when she noticed the blood seeping from my forehead.
Thankfully Kanon was there, as I didn't have the energy to console her much. I don't even know how I managed to cut my head at all, but it stung a fair amount and it provided me the excuse I wanted minutes prior, to escape the group project and head for the bakery.
Even after the fall, my mind still was cemented on the newfound treasure. My first instinct was still to show this memento to Peeta as soon as possible.
Kanon though, like a good friend, insisted on walking me home, despite my many protests that it was unnecessary, that I was just fine, that I could walk home blind if I had to. He insisted, foiling my intention to walk directly to the bakery and not wait for Peeta's return home, which still remained hours away.
Kanon was surprisingly stubborn when he felt strongly about something and I chose to relent, to give in and allow him to accompany me back to what used to be Victor's Village—where he now resided with Delly, inside Peeta's old home—without much fight.
Fighting for your independence and autonomy doesn't exactly present you as rational when there's a bloody gash in your forehead.
"Doesn't that hurt?" Kanon asks as we make out way up my porch.
I look up, maybe a little startled, from Mr. and Mrs. Mellark's wedding photo. "My head?"
"Yeah," he says carefully, looking at the blood like it's a mutt in an arena.
I shrug, doing my best not to indicate how dizzy I actually feel. Either from the fall or the blood still dripping out despite my attempt to plug the wound up with old cotton rags someone sorted into the trash box. "I've had worse."
He chuckles, a little sardonically. "Yeah, so have I."
I thank him for walking me home—for it was as inconvenient as it was sweet—and close the door slowly behind me, before leaning my ear against the wooden frame, waiting. Waiting for him to climb the steps down from my porch and make his way back to the Justice Building. Waiting for him to be far enough out of sight that I can sneak back out without him also trying to accompany me to the bakery.
It's not that I don't appreciate Kanon and Delly and all of my other friends' concerns. It's the fact that I wish to bestow a likely loaded item upon my boyfriend and I really don't need an audience to do it.
It's not the easiest feat, to slyly time it so Kanon won't hear me opening and shutting my front door again. And it's probably not my smartest plan, to walk alone along the rocky cobblestones and the uneven concrete, with a less than level head and body.
But I make it to the back door of the bakery still, just as I knew I would. It takes three times as long, but I make it there nonetheless.
Still clutching the photograph of his parents between my fingers too. Still with the same primary focus on my mind. To give him a token of remembrance, a token of the imperfect family he lost so tragically, that he still greatly missed, even when he can't say their names. Even when he can't conjure up their faces.
"You don't remember your family?"
"Sometimes I do... I'm not so sure other days. My memory isn't exactly top notch, if you know what I mean."
I push open the heavy-weighted back door, using all the energy my body can muster up. To my relief, Thom is already in the back room, sweeping flour off the floor.
"Hi, boss," he greets slyly as I walk in, barely glancing up at me. I shoot him an over-the-top eye roll, though I can't help smirking myself at the stupid nickname, when he beckons Peeta. "Hey, your girl is here!" He yells loudly. Too loudly to be packed with customers at the counter.
I take that to mean the daily rush has come and gone. Which would be very convenient, as it means I can present Peeta with my finding that much faster, without having to worry about his business—or our business, as he teasingly calls it—being held up.
I hear the sound of my boyfriend's quiet laughter from the front. The sound that I akin to my father's singing or my sister's squeal of delight. The last sound still alive that can make my heart do a flip.
But it dies out the second he peaks his blonde head into the back room. The moment his baby blues, the same color as both his parents', meet my silver ones and then trail upwards.
Almost as if remembering the gash in my head, I reach to my forehead, to ensure the makeshift cloth bandage is still in place.
"Katniss?" Peeta says, his eyes looking far more nervous than I anticipated. Which I can only take to mean the red liquid has seeped through the plain fabric. "Is that blood?"
I don't want him to focus too heavily on that fact though. Like I told Kanon, I've had much worse injuries in my life. Me and Peeta both have.
Just look at his prosthetic leg.
"Yes," I reply easily, before moving closer to him, pushing the glossy photograph towards him. "But that doesn't matter right now. What does matter is-"
"You are literally bleeding."
I sigh, feeling slightly perturbed now. "Peeta, look," I insist, thrusting the image of his parents towards him, waiting for it to take anchor.
And it does. It takes a beat longer than I expect, but it happens nonetheless. I watch silently as the image captives him, as the shiny photograph takes him back to a time when this exact location was the only home he'd ever known and this business was run by the two people inside the picture.
He touches the photo, as if to test it's realism, before looking up at me in disbelief. "Where did you find this?"
"The Justice Building today. Inside the boxes, with all the things lost in the bombing."
There's a long pause as Peeta process this. The silence makes me antsy, finding myself abruptly uncertain of what could be going through his mind.
Finally, he whispers softly, "I never thought I'd see this picture again."
And the awed, tender smile that spreads across his face swiftly encompasses me in its warmth.
And I suddenly don't even feel the gash in my head anymore.
/
Read The Rest On AO3
#everlark#thg#the hunger games#everlark fics#fanfic#everlark fanfic#fanfiction#my writing#play with me 🥰
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lie For Me (Part III of V) (Part I) (Part II)
Pairing - Modern!Ben Solo x Reader
Summary - Something has changed in the relationship between you and Ben. No longer can you say that you hate him. You find yourself wanting to spend alone time with him, and you volunteer to drive out to his parents house out with him to check on Chewy. The question is, does he feel the same?
Word Count - 5.7k
Warnings - None!
Something had changed. There was no doubt about it. As soon as Ben walked in the door behind Poe for your movie night, it was different. Normally there’d be a rolling of eyes, a sarcastic comment about how happy you were to see each other that turned to fighting that turned to the two of you being kept in separate rooms until you had both calmed down enough to be in the same area as each other without bickering.
This time there were smiles, but he seemed . . . weird. Well, weirder than normal. He was leaning to one side and his fingers were twitching as he handed over a bottle of wine to you.
“Two bottles from you in a row, Solo. What did I do to deserve this one?” You asked, grinning up at him, and trying to put him at ease as you reached for his arm and tugged him inside.
“You put up with my parents for two hours. I should’ve bought you a whole case.” Ben replied, but nevertheless eased up somewhat, his tense jaw loosening.
But you shrugged your shoulders. While you didn’t think Ben’s parents were that bad, you also hadn’t been through the same things with them as Ben had, so you chose not to comment on that. “But I got to see your childhood bedroom, and pet your dog, so it was a win for me.”
“Even though you missed the shrine to Satan?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
It was going to take some time to get used to him teasing you. “Yes, even if I’m disappointed about it.” You replied, letting out a laugh. Watching your friends get comfortable in your living room in their various positions, you glanced back over at Ben. “Wanna help me with the popcorn?” You asked.
To your slight surprise he nodded, and followed you into the kitchen.
While you started getting everyone’s favorite drinks together, you put him in charge of the popcorn. “You know, there is one other thing that I am disappointed about.” You told him.
“What?” Ben asked, and you could hear the air of curiosity in his voice.
Once you had the rest of the drinks, you turned around and pouted at him. “I didn’t get to see those baby pictures.”
He rolled his eyes at you as he started opening bags of popcorn, “and you never will.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, your pout turning into a bit of a smirk as a thought struck you. “I wonder if Leia could send them to me over text . . . or even email . . .” You pretended to ponder.
Ben wasn’t buying it though. “You don’t have her phone number, or her email, so I think it’s safe to say that those two options are out for you.”
“But you do . . .” You replied, taking a couple of steps closer to him.
He watched you through narrowing eyes, and you knew that he was trying to figure out what game you were playing. “Yes . . .” He answered.
Taking a chance, you lunged forward, grabbing his phone out of his front pocket and holding it up with a satisfied smile. “In here.” You looked down at the phone, turning your back to Ben for a brief moment and gasped when it turned on at once. “You don’t even have a lock on your phone?! Are you a psychopath?” You asked him in disbelief.
“I’ve got nothing to hide,” he said, swiping for it, but you moved it out of his way so he couldn’t reach. “Give it back.” He said.
“I will, as soon as I find Leia’s phone number.” You teased as you started to look for his contacts. “Oh my god, even your apps are in alphabetical order - oof!” You let out a gasp as Ben grabbed you from behind, wrapping his arm around you as he used his other to try and grab his phone.
“Give it back,” he whispered in your ear in a low voice.
You were startled, not only by how he had pulled you against his chest with no effort, but by the way that your heart reacted to it. It was pounding so hard it hurt. The two of you hadn’t been this close since you danced together a few weeks earlier, and you had forgotten how . . . nice it was to be so engulfed by him.
Swallowing, you shook your head, trying not to let how much his embrace was affecting you show. “Make me, Solo.” You snapped back, holding the phone out of arm’s reach, a smirk on your lips, as you glanced over your shoulder at him.
There was something strange in his expression, almost a challenge as he answered your smirk with one of his own. “You know I can.” Ben replied, and instead of doing what you expected, which was reaching out with his much larger arms and grabbing the phone, he began tickling your side with the arm around you.
Letting out a screech you began swatting at his hand. How the hell did he know you were ticklish?! He was unrelenting as his fingers brushed up and down your sides from the bottom of your armpits to your hips. You tried to keep the phone out of his reach, but you couldn’t help it as you burst into laughter. He grabbed the phone and shoved it in his back pocket. “That wasn’t fair!” You complained, breathless as he let up on the tickling.
You didn’t have to see his face to know that he was smiling, but you looked anyway. You glanced over your shoulder to see a cute smile you had never seen on his face. It was a happy smile, a smile that you had caught glimpses of, but never seen in full. It was so contagious, you couldn’t help but smile back. “I know.” He said, and for a split second, you thought he might have leaned even closer to you.
And you found yourself wanting him too.
“Is everything okay in here?” The both of you looked up to find Poe in the doorway, looking at the both of you with curious eyes.
Ben stepped away from you, and you felt heat rushing up to your face at the position that your friend had found the two of you in. “Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?” You answered, maybe a little too quickly.
Poe’s eyebrow raised as he looked between the two of you. You wondered what he saw on Ben’s face when he did, because you were too scared to look. “We heard screaming. Wanted to make sure the two of you weren’t going at it again.”
“We’re fine,” but from the tenseness in Ben’s voice, it was clear that the two of you had been up to something. Not giving Poe the chance to ask any more questions, he grabbed the popcorn and made his way out of the room, leaving Poe and you alone.
He was still staring at you, his eyes narrowed, and you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable under his gaze. “What?” You snapped, wondering why he was staring at you.
“Something’s happening between the two of you. I’ve got my eye on it.” He replied, pointing his two fingers at his eyes and then back to you.
You rolled your eyes, grabbing the drinks, and pushed past Poe back into your living room.
Movie nights at your place have been happening for several years now. Poe, Finn, and Rose always took up one of the couches while Rey and you took up the little two person loveseat, which left Ben the recliner. It was a system that had been going strong since the first movie night.
Apparently today, Rey decided to change it. When you walked in, you were surprised to see Rey reclined back, watching you with a little devilish grin on her lips, nodding her head to the remaining spot on the loveseat.
With Ben.
Sometimes, your friends were way too meddlesome. You didn’t want anyone to think their little trick had affected you though. You handed everybody their drinks, settling on the couch next to Ben and grabbed the remote. “It’s stand up night isn’t it?”
“Then Comedy!” Finn spoke up from the couch.
“Then horror.” Rey said, giving you a scheming look.
You let out a sigh. Everyone in this apartment knew that you hated horror movies. You were easy to scare, and now you were even more sure that Rey had set this seating arrangement up on purpose. “Fine,” you mumbled under your breath as you flipped it to the stand up show you guys had been watching recently.
As usual, everyone started drifting off about the third movie. They almost always did, beginning with Rose, Finn, Poe and lastly Rey, but Rey seemed determined tonight to at least stay up until the horror movie started. Probably to make sure you were going to play it.
She knew you too well.
When you hit play, you leaned back against the couch, bringing your feet up off the ground, so the demons couldn’t get them, and sighed, knowing what you were in for. You were distracted from your thoughts when Ben nudged your side. You looked up at him to find him holding out your blanket, your security object, towards you. With a grateful smile, you took it from him, wrapping it around you, and not even noticing how much closer you had put yourself to Ben in the process.
You also didn’t notice the way that he leaned even more into you.
When the movie started, you knew within the first five minutes that you were in for it. You hated jump scares so much, and that was all this movie seemed to be. Within ten minutes, you had your blanket under your nose, watching with wide eyes, waiting, anticipating the next scare.
“You know, you can almost always tell when the scare’s coming by the music.” Ben whispered in your ear.
Looking up at him, you noticed for the first time how close the two of you had gotten. There were mere inches between your faces, and you felt your heart beat pick up with that newfound knowledge. Why was he so close? Why had you gotten so close? You were so distracted; you took a minute to comprehend what he had said. “I - what?” You asked, hoping he took your stuttering as scared, and not having anything to do with his proximity.
Ben seemed to be unaffected by how close you two were sitting. You could tell no difference in his voice or anything like that, but he also didn’t move away from you like you would have expected. It seemed he was going to continue to surprise you tonight. “Listen to the music. It almost always gets louder, and then goes silent right before there’s a jump scare. Trust me.” Ben whispered to you.
Deciding to listen for his tips, you turned back to the screen, right in time for a demonic looking ghost to pop out, screaming.
Letting out a yelp of your own, you covered your head with the blanket, cowering into Ben’s side without a second thought, even as you heard him and Rey, still awake on the chair, laughing at you. “That’s the last time I trust you, Ben Solo.” You mumbled under the pillow.
“Hey, I did say almost, not all the time.” You heard him reply, and then felt a tug on the blanket, a pout on your face as he tugged it off your head. You had to bite your bottom lip though, when you caught sight of his face, that smile you had seen earlier back on it. It was hard not to smile back at him when he was looking at you like that, but you tried to resist.
“Still,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.
Ben shook his head, that grin seeming to widen as he looked at you. “You, um -” He reached around you, draping his arm across your shoulders and reaching into your hair. “You had some wool.” He said, plucking it out and flicking it away.
Heat flooded your cheeks, and you didn’t even know why. “Oh, thanks,” you replied, giving him a small smile that he returned.
You expected him to take his arm off of you, but the evening’s surprises continued when he didn’t. It was loose, and you knew you could shake it off if you wanted to, and nothing would be said about it . . .
But you didn’t.
Instead you curled into his side even more, tucking yourself into him and his warmth, almost snuggling into him as you let your head rest against his side. Then his thumb started stroking your shoulder, and your whole body relaxed. You couldn’t help but wonder when this change had happened. What moment had you started feeling so comfortable around him when a month ago you would have shoved him away? Just like how it had been hard to pinpoint when your dislike for him had begun up until two weeks ago, it was now hard to determine when you started liking Ben.
And you knew, deep down, that it wasn’t the type of like you had for Poe, or Finn . . . No. Your heart didn’t react to their touches the way it reacted to Ben. This was a whole different story.
The fact was . . . at some point and time, that hate had changed to something much more.
____________________
The loud shrill of a cell phone pulled you out of your slumber. You groaned into the warmth at your side, reaching out until you found the offending object and answered it without a second thought. “Hello?” You mumbled, your voice rough with sleep.
The voice on the other end of the line startled you awake though as soon as she said your name, because it made you realize you had answered Ben’s phone. “Leia, I’m sorry, we were sleeping, and I didn’t see whose phone -” You shot upright, making Ben groan next to you as you disrupted the position he had fallen asleep in. Partially asleep, his hand slid from your shoulder to your hip, and heat rushed to your face as his hand met the bare skin where your top had ridden up. If that didn’t make you flustered enough, his thumb started rubbing circles into your skin, and you were going to -
“Did you hear me?”
“Oh, no, I’m sorry, can you say that again?” You asked, attempting to focus on anything other than Ben Solo’s large hand.
“I’m sure Ben’s asleep, but could you wake him up for me? We need him to go check on the house. The alarm for the gate’s gone off which means that Chewy’s got out again.” Leia told you.
“Of course, give me a second, and I’ll see what I can do.” Dropping the phone at your side, you placed your hand on Ben’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Ben, Leia’s on the phone. She needs to talk to you.”
All he did was grunt, which you should have expected.
Sighing, you began to shake his shoulder more vigorously. “Ben, come on, you’ve got to wake up. Leia says that Chewy has gotten out, and you need to go check on him.” You told him.
At least one word of that sentence managed to get through his sleepy brain. “Chewy?” He repeated, his voice low with sleep.
Dear God why was that voice so hot? “Um, y-yeah, Leia says he’s got out. She’s on the phone.” You told him, placing the phone in his hand. You bit your lip as his hand gripped your bare hip for another second as he hoisted himself up, but then he dropped it, bringing it back to his own thigh as if it had never been around you in the first place.
“Mom?” he said, bringing the phone up to his ear, his voice groggy and deep. “No, you didn’t interrupt a date, but yeah I’ll go check on him.” His mother must have said something else then, because he glanced at you for a quick moment before he responded. “Mom, I can drive fine, and she’s tired too, I doubt she wants to drive out to the house with me -”
You didn’t even think about what you were doing. You grabbed the phone back from Ben’s hand and put it up to your ear. “Don’t worry, Leia, I’ll go with him.”
“Thank you, Sweetheart. You two please be careful, and thank you so much.” Leia told you. “We don’t know what we’d do if something ever happened to Chewy.”
“It’s no problem. We’ll let you know as soon as we know he’s safe and sound.” You assured her. Then the two of you said your goodbyes, and you hung up the phone, turning back to Ben. “Well, I guess we better get out of here.”
He looked exhausted. He was rubbing sleep from his eyes and you could tell that if you let him, he would be asleep again in about ten seconds. “Listen, I know you told my mom you would come with me, but you don’t have to -”
“It’s fine,” you brushed off, standing up and stretching your arms out over your head, arching your back and trying to get a good stretch. “I can see why she doesn’t want you driving. You take a bit to wake up, don’t you?”
You said so because he was staring at your stomach, looking a little dazed. When you looked down to see if you had something on your shirt, you realized how much your shirt had ridden up when you stretched, revealing a few inches of skin, and pulled it back down.
“You sure you’re okay? I can drive if you want.” You offered, trying to break the weird tension that seemed to fill the room.
Ben shook his head, standing up and stared at you for a moment. You had the very distinct feeling that he was trying to read you, trying to figure out why you wanted to come with him on this late night drive when you didn’t have to. You could see the frustration in him, not knowing the answer to his silent question, and yet, he didn’t ask. “Are you sure?” He said instead.
Giving him a small smile, you nodded. “Yeah, I am. It’ll get me away from all the snoring for a little bit.” You added on, pointing towards Rey and then Poe, the loudest in the room. Was that the real reason? No. The real reason was that you wanted to spend more time with him. Alone time, but you were way too scared to admit that right now. Not without knowing if he was even sort of starting to feel the same way.
His gaze never wavered from you, almost as if he could sense that you weren’t telling him the whole truth. If he did though, he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he spared a glance at Poe, and then turned back to you. “You should hear him in the apartment. It’s worse.”
You grinned at him.
____________________
The drive back to Ben’s parents place was mostly silent, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The two of you had transgressed to the point in your relationship where you could be quiet around each other and not feel awkward. You spent most of the trip watching Ben, sneaking glances, and then turning away when you saw him turning your head towards you. It was embarrassing, and you felt like a high schooler with a crush.
You were thankful when you made it to his parents house to escape the tension. “So why aren’t your parents home?” You asked, climbing out of the car.
“France I think.” Ben replied, making his way up to the front door and unlocking it.
“You don’t know?” You asked, stopping in the doorway.
Ben’s voice turned tense. “I stopped keeping track of that a long time ago.” Then he turned back and noticed that you weren’t following him. “Are you coming?” He asked, tilting his head towards the backyard.
Nodding, you hurried after him, following him until you reached the gate that closed off the backyard to the woods behind it. “Definitely seems like he got out.” You said, noticing the lock that had been knocked off.
“Damn dog is too smart for his own good.” Ben muttered, looking out into the darkness of the trees behind the house. “Guess we’re going in after him.”
Your eyes widened, eerily reminded of the horror movie that you had watched hours earlier. The wind whistling through the leaves, the crickets chirping and the owls hooting sure sounded the same as it had then. “Uh, in there?” You said, biting your bottom lip.
Ben picked up on your hesitation at once. “I’ve been in these woods a hundred times. There aren’t any axe swinging murderers hiding out in a wooden cabin.”
“All it takes is one time.” You argued, eyeing the woods, fingers twitching at your sides.
He let out a sigh, and held his hand out to you. “I’ll go first. So if they try and take you down, I’m going with you.”
You glanced at his hand, then looked up into his eyes, eyes that were imploring you to trust him. After that, you didn’t even hesitate, slipping your small hand into his much larger one and letting him lead you into the woods. “So . . . are we going to walk around until we find him, or -”
“I have a pretty good idea of where he’s at.” Ben said, chuckling when a tree branch cracked, and you jumped. “Sorry, that was me.”
Narrowing your eyes at him, you shoved him with your elbow. “You shouldn’t harm your own people like that.” You joked, reminding him of all the times you had called him a tree.
Ben rolled his eyes.
The two of you didn’t say anything else for a stretch, but you never let go of his hand, and the longer you held onto it, the less scared you found that you were. Once again you were struck by how comforting it was to be with him, to have him at your side, something you would have thought you were crazy for thinking months ago. While yes, Ben had been the one to start the feud . . . You hadn’t been the nicest to him either, and you wondered how much time and getting to know each other had been wasted because of that. “Hey, Ben?” You said, giving his hand a squeeze to get his attention.
“Hmm?” He acknowledged, though his attention was focused on the woods around the two of you.
“I’m sorry,” you blurted out of nowhere.
“What?” Ben asked, shooting you a confused look for a moment before holding a tree branch out of the way for you.
“I’m sorry for being bitchy all the time . . . you know, earlier.” You told him, shrugging your shoulders. After all, you could probably list most of the times that you had been horrible to him, but that would take way too much time.
Ben stopped at your words, looking at you with curiosity in his intense gaze. “What brought this on?”
The thing was . . . you didn’t want to admit what was bringing this all on. As much as your relationship had grown, you weren’t positive that he wouldn’t laugh at you if he discovered you had grown feelings for him after all that. “I - uh . . . Trying to be a better person?” You replied, not sounding the least bit convincing.
He snorted. “Sure you are.” He said, pulling a last branch out of your way and gesturing you forward into a clearing.
As soon as you stepped forward, you were shocked by what you found. You had to admit, the forest had made a beautiful little natural place here. A small creek babbling from somewhere nearby along with the chirping of crickets filled your ears, and there was just enough moonlight to shine down between the branches of the trees to illuminate the flowers blooming from the ground.
It was beautiful.
Even the large, very muddy dog rolling around in the water.
“Damn it,” Ben murmured when he caught sight of him. “Chewy!”
The dog perked up at once when he heard Ben’s voice, and ran straight towards the two of you. Of course, you should have seen what was about to happen, but your mind was too distracted by how the moonlight was shining off of Ben’s hair. So you let out a grunt as the dog collided with you, covering you in his mud and licking your face.
“Chewy get down!” Ben ordered, but instead of doing so, Chewy decided it was Ben’s turn to get kissed and covered in mud as well.
You couldn’t help but laugh watching Chewy attempt to chase Ben around in circles and get as much mud as possible on him. “Might as well give it up!” You called to him, another laugh bursting from your lips as he almost tripped over a root. Of course his momentary loss of balance was what Chewy needed to jump up and began licking him, covering him in as much mud as you.
By the time that Ben managed to get Chewy off of him, It was safe to say that the two of you could use a shower.
“Please tell me you have some spare clothes up there.” You asked, nodding up to the house as you held up your filthy shirt.
Ben nodded.
____________________
The clothes that he gave you were so comfortable, albeit large, that you almost wanted to keep them. You sat next to him in the bathroom, you on the counter and him leaning over the sink, both of you attempting to wipe away the remnants of mud from your faces.
“I bet Chewy was a fun dog to have around when you were a kid.” You stated, shooting him a grin in the mirror.
Ben shook his head, but a small smile tugged at his lips. “According to my mother I used to ride him.”
The image crossed your mind of a young Ben Solo, laughing, smiling, on the back of the large dog, and your smile widened. “Oh, there’s got to be pictures of that somewhere.”
“You’re never getting to see them, and I don’t know why you keep trying.” Ben said, and although his voice sounded frustrated, the lack of tension in his face said otherwise.
“I refuse to believe that. Given the opportunity, Leia would show them to me in a heartbeat.” You argued, bumping him with your shoulder.
He bumped you back. “Which is why you’re never going to get the opportunity again.”
You frowned at him, giving him the best pouty eyes that you could manage. “Come on, Solo, just one. Let me see one picture. That’s all I’m asking for.”
Your eyes had no effect on him whatsoever. “You look ridiculous like that.” He said, and your heartbeat kicked up as he leaned forward, bringing the washcloth he had been using up to your forehead and brushing it along your hairline. “You forgot some mud.”
“Thanks,” you said, biting your bottom lip, your eyes trapped in his gaze. There was something so intense about them that you had always found intimidating. They were the same now, but instead of being intimidated, you felt drawn to them. So drawn you almost didn’t notice when he said your name. “Hmm?” You mumbled, not trusting your voice.
“Why did you want to come with me here? You know that I would have been fine.” Ben asked, confusion clear in his tone as he dropped the hand that had been wiping the mud from your face to the counter, close enough to touch your leg.
You wanted to lie to him. It should be easy to. You were sure that given the opportunity, you could think of many reasons why you would have wanted to come with him, but right now, your mind was drawing a blank. It was as if his eyes held some sort of spell over you, and you couldn’t speak anything but the truth. “I . . . I wanted to spend more time with you.” You answered, hoping that answer would be vague enough for him.
It wasn’t.
“Why? We had just spent hours together watching movies and -”
You cut him off before he could continue. “Does everything have to have a reason? Can’t I like spending time with you?”
Ben shook his head. “A few months ago you didn’t want anywhere near -”
What part of your brain, or maybe your heart, told you to do it, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that Ben was rambling, and you knew he wasn’t going to stop until you admitted why you wanted to spend time with him. You weren’t sure you knew the right words yet though, so instead, you did what seemed logical at the moment.
You slid your hand into the hair on the back of his head, and used it to tug him forward until your lips met in a kiss.
And Ben froze. You felt his whole body stiffen at your actions from the neck your palm was resting against, to the hand that had now curled into a fist at your side. Heat rushing to your face, you pulled back, embarrassment inching through your whole body as you stared into his intense eyes once more. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have -”
He didn’t let you get another word out. A gasp left you as his lips met your own in a passionate kiss that you had never expected him to be capable of. Ben Solo was a man of logic and seriousness most of the time. There had been moments when you had seen outbursts of emotion from him, mostly anger, but this was something else.
He wanted you. It was clear in the way his hands gripped your thighs and then used them to bring you against him. In the way his lips parted and pulled you in with such emotion that it left you breathless and sent your head spinning as you tried to play catch up. The two of you had kissed at that first party, and while it had been nice, it didn’t even come close to comparing to this.
Kissing Ben Solo was like kissing an inferno, and there was no way to smother it out. Not that you had any desire to.
When his tongue slipped past your lips, you let out a soft moan, clutching him to you by his shirt and wrapping your legs around him. You wanted him closer. You wanted to feel every part of him against you, and he seemed to have no problem with that either. As your tongues met, he slid his large hands up and down your thighs. The way that they covered almost the whole entire body part made you shiver in anticipation of what those hands would feel like on your bare skin. Of course, that put the thought in your head of what his bare skin would feel like under your fingers . . .
Your hands had been resting on the back of his neck, but you slid them down enough to slip under the collar of his shirt onto his warm skin, massaging the muscles that strained under your fingers.
He groaned. He groaned and he seemed to melt under your touch, his hands slipping from your thighs around to the small of your back, splaying across it. His embrace was so warm, so firm, you felt like you wanted to drown in it and the sensation of kissing him.
Then his phone started ringing.
When he let out another groan, this one significantly less pleasurable than the last one, and pulled his lips away from yours, you frowned, not done with kissing him yet. Instead you took matters into your own hands and leaned forward to kiss along his jawline.
You thought he might push you away, but he didn’t, his hand on your back keeping you pressed tight against his body while he pulled out his phone. “Hello?” Ben said, and you were pleased to hear the strain in his voice.
As soon as the voice responded though, it was like a switch had been flipped inside of him. Once again you felt him tense up, and curious as to his reaction, you let your lips leave his skin, watching his face. He was avoiding your gaze, looking over your shoulder into the mirror. “Yes, Chewy’s fine. He’s back in the backyard.”
Well that explained it. He probably wasn’t comfortable letting you kiss all over him while he was on the phone with his mother . . .
Right?
“All right. We will. You’re welcome.” Ben said, and then slid his phone into his back pocket once more.
You looked up at him, meeting his eyes once more, and frowned at what you saw there. Now you would be the first to admit that you didn’t know Ben Solo so well that you could sense everything he was feeling from looking at his face, but there was no denying there was something there that wasn’t before, and you didn’t like the looks of it.
Your eyes closed as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, which normally is something that would have made your heart pound, but instead, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was . . . off.
“We should go.” Ben said, his voice soft as his lips brushed against your skin.
You nodded, biting your bottom lip as you looked up at him, but he didn’t meet your gaze, instead walking out of the bathroom and leaving you there with the gut feeling that the relationship between the two of you had fundamentally changed. Again.
____________________
The drive back to your apartment was silent, tension thick in the air as you tried to make conversation while Ben replied with one word answers. When you pulled up, the sun was rising, and you spotted all of your friend’s cars there, so you assumed they were all asleep. “Are you coming in?” You asked, your voice quiet in the morning light, noticing how he didn’t turn his car off.
“I have to get some work done. I’ll see you later.” He replied.
A dismissal if you’d ever heard one, you nodded, climbing out of the car and up your steps. Ben didn’t even wait to see if you made it inside. In seconds he was speeding down the road.
Watching him drive away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever relationship could have come from you and Ben was over before it could start.
99 notes
·
View notes
Text
a few people wanted to know the story, so enjoy. fair warning, its a long, rough read, with a buncha triggers possible throughout. but hey, hey, enjoy, i guess? will probs end up deleting this later today and gonna work on memes. hope y’all are doing okay, take care.
My relationship with my older brother has always been really... rocky. Without going into too much potentially triggering detail, he hurt me a lot when I was younger, so there's a lot of fear surrounding him. Saying that now as the reason for why I could never stand up to him for this.
A few years ago, my family decided that someone should move into our late grandparents home to look after the place, and I immediately volunteered. I loved that home, that farm. There were a ton of good memories there, and I was so excited when my family agreed. But, then my health took a downward turn and it was decided I couldn't live alone due to safety reasons. Enter, my older brother. He was in his late twenties at the time, and parents wanted him to finally move out, so they said he was going to come live with me there to keep an eye on me in case something happened. I wasn't happy about it, but he was the only one who could, and the only way I'd get to live at my late grandparent's place, so I agreed to it.
Right from the start, things were not great. He didn't help unbox anything except for his own belongings... No kitchen stuff, no bathroom stuff, just his clothes and computer. As it was just me doing it, and with my fragile health at the time, it was taking me a long while to get it all done. And that's when my aunt thought it was a great idea to start doing weekly visits, i.e. inspections of the place. She got pissed when she saw things still boxed up after a week of being there, but told me she was willing to look past it if it got put away soon.
I busted my butt getting everything put away, then. But I was contending with other issues at that point. He'd started messing up the house. I would wake up to find garbage and crumbs across the kitchen counters and table, dirty dishes dropped wherever he was closest to, and his dirty laundry dropped on the living room floor. His room started getting bad, as well. From about a month of being there, it started to stink. I went in a few times and there would be dishes with rotting food on his dresser. The floor was covered in a layer of food wrappers and other garbage. Dirty laundry was thrown everywhere. His game discs, which we'll come back to later, would be laying unprotected on the floor.
It just got worse from there. At the start, he'd tidy up a little bit after himself. If I asked politely enough, he'd throw garbage away or bring his dishes out of the room... only if I asked him. Three months in. That changed. He started getting snippy at me, slamming and locking his door if I asked him to do anything around the house. His messes were getting worse, and it was just me trying to play catch-up everyday. It got to the point my morning routine was wake up, head out to the kitchen while picking up any dirty laundry / garbage on the way, gather up dirty dishes from around the room and put them on the counter to wash, wash a few of them just to get a headstart, wipe crumbs off all counters and table, wash the rest of the dishes (I still don't understand how he could use so many in a single night), sweep floors if the crumb situation was bad enough. All this before I'd allow myself to have anything to eat or drink, due to sheer panic of my aunt stopping by unannounced again and seeing the place in this state.
My brother was working a very part time job at the time and, as soon as he left for his shift, I would pounce on his room. I'd haul out armfuls (plural) of dirty dishes which I'd then hurry to wash, I'd carry out at least one full, heavy duty garbage bag of trash. I would try to make his bed after brushing off the crumbs. All this in the few hours I had before he'd get back home. And he would always get incredibly pissed at me for it, which I understand. I know it was an invasion of privacy and, if not for the aunt, I wouldn't have done it... But the state of his room was going to get us both evicted, so I felt justified doing it.
It went on this way for a year and half. During that time, he made me bring his game discs in to get them fixed, had me pay for them, and never paid me back. I wound up in the emergency room on three separate occasions, all due to working myself to the point of over-exhaustion and aggravating already pre-existing health problems. Once, when I was away for a few days, he'd turned my room into a storage room. Ie, he threw all his laundry and belongings on my bedroom floor because he didn't want to deal with them. I wound up having to sort through it and pick it all up. He moved the landline phone into his room, essentially cutting off my contact to the outside world behind a locked door as my cellphone barely had any service there. He took food money from me, against my will, to buy his own... Would eat part of it and let the rest rot in the fridge until I cleaned it out. (important note, I have a lot of dietary restrictions. So it's not like I could just snack on it or share it with him. I just had to deal with him basically stealing my food money, then wasting it on food I couldn't even eat.) He would lock himself in his room anytime the aunt came by, making me have to face her wrath on my own, because I had no lock on my door, and I wasn't allowed to put one on. He would barge into my room uninvited, but get pissed if I went into his. He would expect me to play video games with him and throw a fit if I said no, even after I explained that I had too much cleaning to do and, if he really wanted me to play with him, he would have to lend a hand so it would be done quicker and I might have energy to play. He never did. He wouldn't empty out our cat's wet food and would just let it go moldy if I wasn't there for a few days... and would 'forget' to refill her water.
The only jobs he was expected to do around the house were emptying the cat litter for our one cat and vacuuming, both things I physically couldn't do because of severe asthma. And once a week, he was supposed to bring laundry over to our parents place to wash, as we didn't have a washer or dryer. I remember him vacuuming once the whole time we were there. He rarely emptied the cat litter, which meant I would wind up having to do it once in a while and just suffer through a serious asthma attack afterwards. He also rarely brought the laundry over. I wasn't able to drive, so I would wind up having to ask my mom to bring it over with her when she visited. Three jobs. He hardly ever did any of them, but still expected the house to be clean when our aunt stopped by and would be upset if it wasn't. He just didn't want to have a hand in getting it that way.
On the subject of other family, I tried reaching out. My parents would visit on occasion. They both knew how bad it got, they'd seen it at the worst. I'd even called my mom in a full crying panic more than once, when the aunt called in the morning to say she she'd be there in an hour... And the house wasn't clean. Mom had to come over and help me speed clean it, with me working through a full-blown panic attack, scared I wouldn't have it "clean enough" by the time the aunt got there. Mom is also the one who drove me into the ER. She knew how bad it was, but he was her golden child. The "can do no wrong" child, and I was always the problem. She would tell me I was making it out worse than it was, that it wasn't that bad, that it wasn't his fault he was messy, that I should just deal with it and clean up after him. Dad would at least seem sorry for me. He'd tell me he wished my brother would clean up after himself, but that there was nothing he could do. Aunt just didn't want to hear my excuses. She would yell at me for the state of the place, after I'd worked myself half to death cleaning already. She blamed me for it, threatened to kick us out over every tiny thing wrong. Made passive aggressive comments. Took pictures and said she would show them to the rest of our relatives so they'd know how we were destroying the house, ect.
A year and a half of this. I lost a dangerous amount of weight. I hardly slept, hardly ate, anxiety spiked so badly I was having panic attacks at least once a week, especially toward the weekend when I knew the aunt was coming. All of my days were devoted to cleaning up after him. I dropped hobbies just to wash dishes or pick up his garbage. I even pulled an all-nighter just trying to make the house look presentable... After I'd been in the hospital and spent a few days at my parents place recuperating, so you can imagine the state of the house.
Toward the year and a half mark, I met my now husband. When we decided he should come spend the weekend, I was both happy and terrified. I worked myself to the point of passing out to make the place look decent. I asked my brother to help, told him we would be having company, and was met with a slamming door in my face while he went back to his video games. Now husband came up, we had a great time and chose to make it a weekly thing.
It was about a month into that when I went away for the weekend with my then bf. At this point, he kind of knew how bad it could get and just wanted to get me out of there for a few days. He'd even given my brother a piece of his mind for not emptying the cat litter and making me do it, because of my asthma. So brother hated him. Told me to break up with bf for being "rude" to him. Even called my mom to complain about it and it I got chewed out by my mom for "letting" my bf at the time talk to my brother that way. I was beyond sick of brothers bullcrap. I was exhausted. Had been in the ER just recently because of him, again, and needed to get away. Bf took me up to a cabin and we spent the weekend there, had an amazing time. And brought me home. From the second I stepped back into the farmhouse, I wanted to cry. It was an absolute disaster, like the brother had gone out of his way to destroy the place. So much garbage, laundry, dishes, ect. I said goodbye to the bf, who was horrified and reluctant to leave... And I started trying to make a dent in the horror show that was the house. It didn't take long for me to breakdown. When I called the bf that night to make sure he'd gotten home safe, I told him how bad it was. And he invited me to move in with him. I jumped at that chance for more reasons than one.
Brother took immediate issue with this. He threw a fit when I told him. Straight up told me I was being selfish, that I didn't appreciate all he did for me, that how dare I leave, how could I DARE to move in with someone who talked to him that way!! I just packed up a few of my things and went with the bf. Just like that. I was out.
It was three months before I went back to grab a few more of my things. In that time, brother had gotten an eviction notice from our aunt and was having to move back in with the parents. And I don't blame her one bit. Let me paint a picture for you of what I saw when I walked in the house: he'd run out of room for garbage on the counter and table, it was stacked too high, so.. he'd opened the oven, pulled the racks out and was piling garbage up on them, instead. Guess what the only place that didn't have garbage was... The pristine garbage can. The living room floor was covered in his dirty laundry. He had run out of clean dishes and resorted to using Tupperware lids as plates, with the dirty dishes covering the entire counter by the sink or stacked in his room. Speaking of, I caught a glance inside his room. The smell was worst in there. I could tell there was food in there from the time I left... Didn't try to take a step inside, obviously, not that there was a place to step. Keep in mind, this is AFTER the aunt had visited and demanded he cleaned up. She'd seen it this way, blew her top, and he still didn't give a crap. I, on the other hand, panicked. Call it ingrained at this point, but I started frantically cleaning. It was only my bf who stopped me. Had to actually grab my hands and hug me to get me to stop, with me hyperventilating and close to a panic attack. We got my things and got the hell out of there. But not before I noticed my brother seemed upset that I hadn't cleaned up while I was there.
Brother's living back with our parents and has trashed his room there. He's still pissy at me for calling him out on the way he treated me, and thinks I'm still required to be nice to him because mom says I should... and that he did absolutely nothing wrong with the way he behaved. He's also still holding a grudge against my hubby for him having the utter gall to tell him to be an adult and clean up after himself. Mom still denies it was bad (even though she's dealing with it now) or that I have anything residual from that time, despite the fact I told her that I get panicky and shaky when the place I'm living, now, gets even slightly untidy.
For me, I'm happier than I've ever been. I'm essentially no contact with my brother and limited contact with my mom. Just got married. Living with someone who loves me and actually helps with housework, even without being asked! Still dealing with the trauma of living in a place that felt THAT stressful and unsafe, but working on it. Not holding out much hope of brother realizing how entitled he was / is, but eh. He's not worth the time thinking about him.
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Fell for You Like the Autumn Leaves
In which your neighbor, who might as well be a complete stranger to you, convinces you to revisit an old childhood tradition of yours. Oh, and you end up falling in love with him.
member: chenle (featuring the dreamies and taeyong)
au: pumpkin patch volunteer!chenle x gn!reader
word count: 11.3k
genre: fluff, angst, humor
warnings: mutual pining, very mild profanity, kissing, teasing
author’s note: I know, I know, the au is oddly specific but just trust me! :) And I’m crossing my fingers that the tags work this time. I have nothing else to say except that I’m very proud of this fic and it was very fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it. Hope everyone who celebrates had a nice Halloween!
The tall, slender lamp post on the sidewalk outside of your house glows a pale amber color under the gray evening sky, illuminating the leaf-littered ground beneath it. You’ve walked past it hundreds, maybe even thousands of times, on a day just like this one. But this time, something’s different.
There’s a small flyer taped somewhat haphazardly to the side of the post, the dark lavender paper catching your eye. It’s positioned perfectly at eye-level, and you begin to read.
Fall is finally here, and you know what that means: The town’s annual pumpkin patch and festival is now open! Pick out your perfect pumpkin, find your way through a corn maze, take a peaceful hayride, and more! Come visit us all throughout the autumn season, 7 days a week from 10am to 8pm, at the corner of Chestnut Way and Fairview Boulevard. There’s fun for the whole family!
Small illustrations of pumpkins and colorful leaves fill the margins of the flyer, and the festive palette seems to brighten up the gloominess of the October day surrounding you.
“Hey!”
Whirling around, you’re met with the sight of your neighbor, Chenle. He’s holding more of the flyers in one hand, a small roll of tape in the other.
Despite him living only a few houses down from you for a number of years, you hardly know anything about him. You suppose he’s always seemed sort of mysterious. Sometimes you would catch glimpses of him outside from your window, and no matter if you saw him snapping photos of the blossoming flower bushes in his yard, riding his bike down the street with some friends, or just sitting on his upstairs balcony with a book in his hand, none of these things gave you any clues as to what he’s really like.
You two have exchanged brief hellos whenever you’ve passed each other on the sidewalk, him on his way somewhere and you heading home, but aside from those fleeting encounters, he’s a puzzle for you to figure out. You can’t help but wonder about him. Is he a quiet or a loud person? Is he on the serious side, or does he laugh at almost anything? What’s his personality like in general? Long story short, Chenle intrigues you, and maybe after today you’ll know at least a little bit more about him.
“Hi,” you return his greeting with a small smile, the kind of smile you give when you’re not exactly sure what else to say.
“Those flyers look pretty good, huh? I helped design them this year!” He explains with a proud grin, placing a hand on his hip as he studies your response. To be fair, he hardly knows anything about you either, and upon seeing you inspecting the flyer, he had decided to approach you and hopefully take a small step towards becoming your friend.
“Really? That’s cool.” The awkwardness in the air between you is far too tangible for your liking, and you silently hope he’ll take the responsibility of carrying on the conversation you’re currently sharing. Luckily, this wish of yours is granted moments later.
“You’ve been to the pumpkin festival before, right?”
You nod. It’s true, the annual tradition is one that everyone in town can enjoy, but in recent years you’ve started to lose interest in the festivities. You’re growing up, and it’s like you’re at this weird in-between stage. Mostly, those that attend are either large families complete with young children eager to explore every corner of the patch, or couples hoping to enjoy the ambience created by the cute decorations and cozy autumn atmosphere. You belong to neither of these groups, and so you’ve felt more than a little out of place the last few times you’ve gone.
You’re not sure if this is something you should share with Chenle, but without waiting for any kind of approval from your brain, the words leave your mouth anyway.
“Yeah, but I don’t really have anyone to go with and I don’t know anyone working there, so I’m not sure if I’ll make it this year.”
He frowns sympathetically for a split second before his face lights up again. “Aw, but I was just about to tell you that I’m volunteering there this year! So... if you’re worried about not having someone to hang out with, you’ll have me.”
“Only if you want!” He quickly adds, and that’s the first time he’s seemed nervous, or at least anything less than completely confident during your conversation. The cutest shade of red appears on his cheeks, and you don’t know how you could possibly refuse his offer now.
“Hmm... I guess I can reconsider, then.” You smile wider, more genuinely this time, after faking your contemplation by tapping your toe and tilting your head, a finger stroking your chin as if in deep thought.
“Really?” He replies happily with a small gasp, and his foot starts to lift off of the pavement to take an excited step towards you before he stops himself. If you notice, you don’t say anything.
You nod once again, and he notes how enthusiastic you seem now. Cute.
“Great! My shifts are on weekdays, from 2 to 7. I’ll see you there?”
“Definitely.”
The next week, you bundle up in your warmest jacket before making your way down the sidewalk, turning when necessary as you navigate the winding streets of your neighborhood. About half a dozen blocks later, you’re out on the main road, and you can just barely spot the entrance to the festival in the distance, orange lights strung along an archway that marks the small trail leading to it.
When you finally reach the inside of the pumpkin patch, the first thing you do is look for Chenle. You regret not asking him exactly where he would be working, but it can’t be that hard to find him, right?
He’s been on edge all afternoon, wondering if you would actually show up. It’s not that he didn’t believe you when you told him you would be there, he most certainly did, but there’s an oddly anxious feeling in his stomach that’s been affecting his behavior and he’s not sure he wants you to see him like this.
Chenle, just like everyone else, can be clumsy sometimes. But today? Today was a whole different story. He nearly dropped one of the biggest pumpkins in the patch while he was trying to lift it from the tall haystack it had been sitting on. His shoelace had somehow become untied while he was walking through the corn maze to check for any candy-apple wrappers or cider cups on the ground. Fortunately enough for him, no one had been around to see him trip over it, saving him at least a little bit of embarrassment. He even accidentally left the door to one of the animal stalls open, earning him a light scolding from his supervisor, Taeyong, and an entire hour on feeding duty for the horse it belonged to, between its scheduled hayride shifts.
It wouldn’t be a good second impression, he decides, if you were here to spend time with him only to see him completely failing at doing his job instead.
So when he spots you not too far away, craning your neck as you search for him among the large crowd, he’s conflicted. Does he face his fear of messing up in front of you and possibly risk your only recently-formed opinion of him, or does he avoid you the whole night? His heart clenches at that last option, and in a spur-of-the-moment decision his legs begin to carry him over to you. Catching your eye, he smiles despite the uncharacteristic lack of confidence in himself that he’s currently feeling.
You’re hurriedly cutting across the sea of people that fills the walkways to meet him, and when you’re within an arm’s reach you start to lift your hand in a small wave. Before you can stop walking completely, however, he takes your raised hand in his own, briskly guiding you off to the side to stand out of the way of the massive group of festival-goers. Just as quickly as he took your hand he releases it again, gently letting it drop to hang by your side.
You only just had your first proper conversation with him a matter of days ago, and he’s your neighbor for goodness’ sake. So why in the world did your heart rate seem to speed up just then?
There’s a small bench nearby, and he motions to it with a nudge of his shoulder. Sitting down next to him, you try your best to ignore the confusing signals that your body’s sending you right now.
“You came!”
“Of course I did,” you reply with a laugh. “It’s nice to have someone to enjoy the festival with for a change. I’ve really missed that.”
“What do you mean?”
You explain to him how it had grown out of being a family tradition, and that your friends always seemed to be busy, leaving you on your own year after year.
“Well... you have me now!” His voice is cheerful, reassuring, and despite all the noise and activity surrounding you at the current moment, it makes you feel at peace.
“Wait.” You glance around, then look back to Chenle. “Shouldn’t you be working, though?”
“...Shoot!” He knew he was forgetting something.
Standing up from the bench you share, he continues. “You can come with me if you want, but I can’t promise that any part of my job will be interesting.”
“It’s okay,” you giggle, standing up as well and following him over to a small covered tent. The inside is packed with people, weaving in and out of aisles created by several wooden tables full of small, colorful gourds. The boy behind the cash register shouts his name, beckoning him over with his hand.
“Hey Chenle, can you come help me weigh these pumpkins? Donghyuck had to go help some kids at the crafts area and business isn’t slowing down anytime soon.” He’s too busy typing numbers into a small computer system to notice that he’s speaking to more than one person. When his eyes finally lift up from the keys, he asks, “Who’s this?”
Chenle introduces you to each other, and you learn that his name is Mark. The gray beanie he’s wearing is somewhat lopsided on his head, dark hair sticking out from beneath it after all the times he’s cutely scratched the back of his neck.
While Mark and Chenle ring up dozens of customers, you entertain yourself by browsing through the wide variety of miniature pumpkins and squashes, some green, some white, some yellow. You occasionally pick up an oddly shaped one, running a finger over the small bumps or darkened bruises on the surface of the fruit.
When you look over at the register again, the line has died down, and after a moment of consideration your eyes land on a vibrant orange pumpkin that looks like it would fit perfectly in the palm of your hand. Picking it up, you smile a little to yourself as you turn, pulling your wallet out from your pocket and patiently waiting behind the 4 groups in line ahead of you.
By the time you finally step up to the checkout counter, Chenle’s been wondering where you went. He hadn’t seen you when he was gifted with the rare chance to look up from the metal scale he’s been constantly working at for almost an hour now. Maybe you got bored, he thinks, and left to go do something else or to just go home altogether. So when he sees the familiar sleeve of your jacket enter his peripheral vision as you place your tiny pumpkin down in front of him, he looks up faster than he thought humanly possible, in both surprise and relief. “You know you don’t have to buy anything,” he attempts to whisper in the hopes of hiding his words from Mark.
“But I want to. This pumpkin’s really cute,” you insist with a pleading look in your eyes.
Like you, he nearly mutters. That would have been a disaster.
“Do you want me to pay for it?” He offers, almost pouting at this point.
“Such a gentleman,” you tease, “But no. I promise, I’ve got it.”
“If you insist,” he responds, matching the sarcastic tone of your words and hoping to distract from his reddening ears. Chenle weighs the pumpkin and then places it into a small bag that you sling over your shoulder, where it will stay for the remainder of the day.
Unbeknownst to both of you, Mark’s eyebrow raises at the playfulness of your conversation. Maybe you don’t notice the furious blush on Chenle’s face, but he certainly does. And he won’t forget it.
“Hey, uh, guys? Donghyuck just texted me that he needs a hand. Do you think you could go meet up with him and help out a little?”
“Are you sure you can handle things here, Mark?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. But Donghyuck won’t be if those kids are deprived of craft supplies for much longer.” He reaches underneath the counter and pulls out a huge stack of plastic sticker sheets, with small images of bats, candy, and everything in between. “Take these.”
“Thanks, Mark! See you later!”
“It was nice to meet you!” You call out over your shoulder, and as you momentarily focus your attention on the boy behind you that’s getting farther away by the second, you’re too caught up in saying your goodbyes to notice that the one beside you grabs your hand again. Chenle gently pulls you away from the counter and out from under the tent, steadily making your way towards the other side of the large pumpkin patch.
You were lucky that Mark had the decency to at least pretend there was nothing going on between you and Chenle. He had refrained from commenting on it in front of you, and simply chuckled to himself when he saw both of you walk off together, hand-in-hand. He finds it amusing that neither one of you seems to notice the mutual fondness the other so obviously has for you. Mark doesn’t know a lot about you, but he knows you must be pretty special to be able to fluster Chenle like that.
Donghyuck, on the other hand, does not possess the same decency.
When you reach the crafts area, which is a small, designated space with several picnic tables and bins full of art supplies like glitter, paint sets, and markers, he gratefully approaches Chenle and accepts the large bundle of stickers from him. Like he’s feeding a hungry mob of seagulls with just a few breadcrumbs, Donghyuck essentially tosses them to the large group of children eagerly jumping at his feet. Scurrying away as they snatch the plastic sheets out of the air and get back to decorating their pumpkins, his eyes land on you for the first time.
With a smug, knowing smirk and an exaggerated nod of his head towards your tightly intertwined fingers, he asks, “Who’s this, Chenle?”
You know those movie scenes where two characters look at each other, at something else, then back at each other again? That’s exactly what happens. Chenle’s and your eyes meet, surprise evident on every feature of your faces, before you both realize the exact same thing at the same time. With shaky pupils, your gazes drift down to each other’s arm, then to your hands, laced together and acting as a source of warmth on this chilly autumn day. Much faster this time, you make eye contact again before rapidly but unwillingly pulling your hands away. The guilty smiles you send Donghyuck’s way say it all.
Chenle introduces you for the second time today as his neighbor, but deep down you both wish it was as something else, something more.
“I see,” Donghyuck says under his breath, in a huff of poorly concealed laughter.
Only Chenle hears him, though, and Donghyuck earns himself a rough shove to the shoulder with the snarky comment. You’re looking in a different direction, vision focused on a small child with a frown on her face as she struggles to embellish the small orange gourd on the table in front of her.
“Chenle?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m gonna go see if I can help that little girl with her pumpkin.” You point a finger in the general direction of the picnic table she’s sitting at, glancing back at him for a second as you make your way over to her.
She’s close to tears now, and crouching down beside her small form, you ask, “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
The girl looks down at you, rushing to wipe her eyes before explaining in a quiet, shaky voice, “None of these stickers are the shape I want for my pumpkin...”
Oh, you realize, she’s trying to make a jack-o-lantern face.
“Um...” Upon looking around, you spot a piece of paper nearby on the table and hand her a purple marker from one of the art supply containers. “Well, can you draw what you want the face to look like and maybe I can help?”
With a small “Mhm,” she takes the marker from you and begins to sketch four odd-looking but not totally unfeasible shapes for the pumpkin’s eyes, nose, and mouth.
A good distance away, Chenle is growing tired of Donghyuck’s endless interrogations about you and if he’s absolutely positively sure that you’re not something more than just neighbors. He wordlessly excuses himself from Donghyuck’s side to join you by the picnic table.
The drawings that the little girl comes up with look like a deformed mix of squares, circles, and triangles. Thankfully, you have access to stickers shaped like all three, and you get an idea.
“What are we working on over here?”
Looking up to see Chenle kneeling down opposite you, resting an arm on the wooden surface of the bench, you notice that his voice is different. Not in terms of its pitch or volume, but just in the way that he’s speaking. It’s even more gentle than usual, filled with concern and care, all because he’s talking to a child. How endearing, you think to yourself, smiling down at the ground for a moment or two before you remember the task at hand.
“They’re helping me with my jack-o-lantern!” The little girl exclaims excitedly, causing Chenle to grin wider than you’d ever seen so far and allowing you to get a glimpse of his adorable eye smile for the very first and certainly not the last time.
Nope. Your heart did not just flutter. At least, that’s what you’ll keep telling yourself.
With a wave of your hand you motion for him to stand up, you doing the same before whispering your plan into his ear. Exchanging nods, you both crouch back down again and set to work, guiding the little girl as she overlaps the stickers on the pumpkin to match the picture she drew.
When you’re finished, she claps her hands together and thanks you multiple times, her genuine gratitude warming both of your hearts more than a blanket or a heater ever could.
“Wait,” you turn back around just as you’re about to walk over to Donghyuck once again. Flipping through the sticker sheets scattered across the table, you find exactly the one you’re looking for and peel it from the plastic.
“Wha—”
Before Chenle can even begin his sentence, you’re already pressing the small acorn sticker onto his cheek, giggling softly at how a blush seems to blossom from underneath it, the adorable pink hue spreading all the way to the tip of his nose. Your thumb applies the slightest amount of pressure to his skin while the remaining fingers hold the side of his face, and your other hand clutches his shoulder over the burgundy sweater he’s wearing. It’s at this moment that it dawns on you: This is definitely not a “neighborly” exchange.
You jump back in shock at your own actions. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I really don’t know why I did that.” Inwardly releasing a string of profuse curses, you awkwardly step closer a second time, lifting your hand again to try to peel it from his face and just wishing this mortifying moment would be over already.
“It’s okay, you can leave it,” he stutters a little, taking a tiny step backwards. “I don’t mind.”
Not really knowing how else to bring the uncomfortable (well, that’s an understatement) conversation to a close, you let his last words hang in the air, casting daunting shadows over your heads as you both repeat the same thought over and over again in your minds like a mantra.
I shouldn’t like them...
Trying and failing to sneak a slight glance at the other, your gazes meet at the same time, both of you looking away just as quickly once you realize you’ve been caught red-handed. Or in this case, red-faced.
...But I do.
A few minutes prior, another festival volunteer had taken over Mark’s job at the cash register, leaving him free to roam around for at least a little while. Not knowing where else to go, he had come to see Donghyuck, and by default, you and Chenle.
As they watch your rather amusing response to the realization of and sudden embarrassment at such a shameless display of your crush on Chenle that you can’t quite bring yourself to accept just yet, Mark and Donghyuck talk lowly amongst themselves.
“He should just ask them out already. I haven’t even known that they exist for 15 minutes and I’m already sick of seeing them both deny their feelings for each other. It’s so painfully obvious!” Donghyuck makes a gagging noise, earning a glare from Mark.
“It’s kind of cute, though. Like puppy love.”
“Whatever you say, Romeo,” he snickers.
“Hey!” Mark shoves his shoulder, annoyed. Donghyuck just laughs.
Pulling out his phone, the younger boy types up a quick text message before hitting the small arrow to send it. Out of the corner of his eye, Mark sees the delivered blue speech bubble appear on the screen and asks him, “Who’s that to?”
“Jeno. He and Jaemin have got to see this.”
Not even a minute later, Chenle’s own phone dings with a message from the former of the aforementioned boys, providing a distraction from and successfully dispelling some of the tension that continues to weigh down on you both.
Once he finishes reading the text, Chenle looks up at you and explains, “Two of my friends are working concessions and they’re almost out of a few things, so I need to go pick up what they need and bring it to them.”
You frown a little and furrow your eyebrows. “Isn’t it weird that everyone’s been asking you to go from place to place bringing them stuff all day?”
Now that he thinks about it, you’re right. But there’s no time to stand around and wonder why there seems to be a pattern with his tasks today.
“Bye Donghyuck! We’re gonna go help Jaemin and Jeno at the concessions stand!”
Was it too much to ask for Chenle to absentmindedly grab your hand again? Apparently yes, because much to your disappointment he refrains from doing so this time.
“Did you seriously ask Jeno to make up a fake excuse for help just so you could get them to leave?” Mark questions him, a clearly unamused expression on his face.
“First of all, no. He actually told me that they’re running low on candy apples. And second, not only that, but also so they can see just how hopelessly they’re crushing on each other.”
“Meaning that they can tease them about it, too, right?”
“Exactly!”
Mark rolls his eyes. He supposes he shouldn’t even be surprised at this point. Donghyuck is always full of mischief.
You remain by Chenle’s side as he leads you towards a storage area for the festival and over to the kitchen section, where he grabs a medium-sized cooler packed with freshly candied apples. The walk is filled with casual conversation, any awkward encounters earlier in the day becoming long forgotten, or at least temporarily put out of your minds.
Not having any of his friends around to tease you helps, too.
The few minutes you have to yourselves come to an end all too soon, and as you approach a large booth that appears to be full of just about every autumn snack imaginable, you catch the eye of one of the two boys standing behind it. Whether it’s Jeno or Jaemin, you’re not sure. But sure enough, like everyone else you’ve met so far today, his gaze becomes one of surprise and interest upon seeing the way you’re walking so close to the tall boy at your side.
You decide to take the liberty of introducing yourself this time instead of leaving Chenle to do it for you. Reaching an arm out in front of you, you shyly step up to the conveniently empty counter of the stand. The first boy shakes your hand while the other turns around, eyes darting from you to Chenle multiple times.
“I’m Jaemin,” he lets go of your hand, but not before shooting you a wink and a ridiculously charming grin. Chenle’s stomach churns with jealousy. The boy is always like this, Chenle knows, but with you it’s different. Normally it’s just the regular flirtatious remark directed at a passing customer, making them nearly spill their popcorn or choke on their cotton candy. Despite his awareness of the fact that he means no harm, Chenle still has to fight the urge to pull you into him protectively. Jaemin picks up on his sudden envy but chooses not to mess with him further.
The second one speaks up, doing the same as Jaemin without the wink, instead displaying an endearing eye-smile of his own. “I’m Jeno.” His eyes light up when they land on the freezing container Chenle’s carrying. “Are those the candy apples?” He exclaims. “Thank you so much!”
“No problem,” Chenle grunts in response as he hands it to Jeno over the counter, still bitter about Jaemin’s coquettish introduction of himself. Picking up on his annoyed tone, you send a confused glance and then a sympathetic smile the boy’s way as you try to subtly calm whatever frustration that remains within him.
He softens immediately, regretting any worry he may have just caused you with his uncharacteristically cold demeanor. It’s immediately forgotten when Jaemin motions for the both of you to round the corner of the booth. Stepping inside from the back, you instantly realize it’s much too cramped to fit four people.
You’re about to excuse yourselves to go stand outside again when Jeno strides past, just a little too close for comfort. Taking a step back to move completely out of his way, you make a fatal miscalculation: Chenle’s right behind you. With a thud your back crashes into his stomach, and the awkwardness is more than just palpable.
Throughout the next few minutes you look for every opportunity to step away from him and escape the mutual discomfort of your current position, but business at the concessions stand picks up and both of the boys are constantly rushing back and forth, leaving you no room to do so. It’s not a physical discomfort, not in the slightest, but more so one where your self-consciousness is heightened, and you’re aware that it looks like something a couple would do, the way a couple would stand. In any other moment, perhaps a more private one, you might not have minded the proximity so much, but the public setting you’re in creates the need that you feel to visibly reject the non-existent distance between you and him.
Chenle could get used to how perfectly you two seem to fit together in what’s almost a back hug, with the way he could oh so easily wrap his arms around you from behind. Just not here, not now. Would it be too much, he thinks, for him to place a gentle hand on your shoulder as you both wait for the chance to separate from each other? He decides the answer is no, and as you both endure constant gusts of air each time Jaemin and Jeno pass you, Chenle holds you, grip light on the space between your arm and neck that’s covered in the cotton material of your jacket. His touch eases your nerves about the situation, for which you’re beyond thankful.
While you wait, your eyes find themselves lingering on the customers that shuffle through the line, some young, some old, tall or short. The scrumptious scents wafting within the booth begin to overwhelm your noses after some time, the pungent aroma of apples and spiced cinnamon becoming almost too much to bear for your sense of smell.
As expected, by the time you actually notice there’s finally enough space for you to step away from each other, you’ve already gotten comfortable where you are. The delayed response to this makes Jeno chuckle under his breath, handing a final box of pumpkin pie to an older couple over the counter of the concessions stand.
Glancing down at his watch, Chenle notes how much time has flown by since you arrived at the festival. He also realizes it’s nearly time for his shift at the horse stables, uttering a quick explanation to you and then the other two boys in the booth.
Exchanging brief farewells, you follow Chenle outside and down a thin path to a more secluded area of the festival grounds, out by the field where hayrides are given. On the way, you pass by the corn maze and the games area. The boys manning the attractions both look as if they’re part of the same group of volunteers that Chenle has introduced you to so far, if you had to guess.
Your assumption is confirmed when he waves at the first one, who’s standing beside a small group of children playing bean bag toss. Scanning the area for any supervisors that could scold him for running off for a minute, he darts over to the two of you.
It’s refreshing that he doesn’t inspect you from head to toe with his gaze, something that had happened to you far too much today. “I’m Chenle’s neighbor,” you start before telling him your name, feeling optimistic that he won’t bug you about your connection to each other very much.
“I’m Jisung,” he responds. Then, “Chenle never brings people to the festival like this. Are you dating or something?”
Never mind.
You inwardly facepalm at his blunt statement. Chenle actually does, the smack against his forehead sounding almost painful.
“We have to get going now, Jisung. I just wanted to introduce you to each other.” Despite being frustrated with the younger’s directness, Chenle still gives him a quick side hug and a “Bye” as you walk away, presumably to stop by the corn maze briefly as you had just done with the games area.
“They never answered my question,” Jisung mumbles to himself.
“Renjun!” Chenle calls, hoping this encounter will go more smoothly than the last. Surprisingly enough, it does. The boy extends a hand out for you to shake with a kind smile, not asking any questions about your relationship with Chenle. You’re extremely grateful that he accepts your status as his neighbor and nothing more.
Only when you’re turned away, gazing into the distance at the hustle and bustle of the event does he pat Chenle firmly on the back, exaggerating a wink and whispering a “Go get ‘em, tiger” into his ear. Chenle scowls at Renjun, groaning about being teased the entire day just for bringing someone to the festival with him.
“Alright, alright, I’ll leave you alone.” Renjun starts to back off, but he simply can’t help himself. The next words that spill from his lips will be the last, he vows in his mind. At least, for now.
“...You like them, though, don’t you?”
“Mmph,” Chenle reluctantly replies after a moment, offering a noncommittal answer.
“Don’t overlook it, okay? You never know. They might feel the same way,” he gives Chenle’s arm a quick squeeze before sending him over to you. The light tap he plants on your shoulder makes you turn around with a smile, expectantly gazing up at him. “Ready to go?”
“Yep,” he nods towards the stables, and you both wave back at Renjun as you make your way over to the large structure.
An unfamiliar man leans against one of the walls once you get there. When he sees Chenle, he straightens up and runs a hand through his brown hair, a slight smile tugging at his lips.
The man steps aside from his spot on the wall to reveal a shelf full of animal care items, from cleaning supplies to heavy bags of feed and dry bundles of straw for the ground inside the stalls. “You know what to do,” he nods at the boy while eyeing you carefully at the same time.
Chenle manages to read his mind surprisingly fast, and he jumps to defend your presence. “They’re with me,” he clarifies.
“But you know the rules, Chenle.”
“Just this once, Taeyong! Pleeease?”
Unable to resist the puppy-like expression on his face, Chenle’s supervisor finally caves. That, combined with the way your face fell when he threatened to send you away in a nonverbal manner is enough to make Taeyong change his mind. A minuscule inkling inside of his brain tells him that you’re okay to be by Chenle’s side as he does his job, even if it might mean that he’ll get distracted at times.
“I suppose they can stay.”
“Yes! Thanks, Taeyong!”
“Wait a minute, what’s that on your face?”
Chenle brings a hand up because he’s genuinely forgotten, but when his fingertips brush the cheap plastic sticker on his cheek he remembers how it got there. “Oh, it’s... uh.” He looks to you for help.
“I did that,” you explain with an embarrassed laugh. “We were joking around and I stuck it on his face.”
“Oh, okay, just making sure you know it’s there.”
Some friends he has, Chenle gripes internally. They didn’t even bother to point it out. What if it had been something else?
Luckily, he doesn’t mind the cute sticker, even if it does make him blush like a fool when he thinks about your cute hands pressing it onto his skin.
As Taeyong passes him on his way out of the stable doors, he pinches one of his rounded cheeks, leaving the younger boy cringing in the process.
Time passes somewhat slowly as you watch Chenle go about doing his tasks, first taking one small handful of the horse’s food at a time and feeding it to her, steadily depleting her evening meal little by little. Then he grabs a broom and steps into the stall to sweep some of her bedding.
“What’s her name?” You ask him after a while, the simplicity of his actions creating a calming effect on you as you observe them. You only know it’s a female because you had heard him mutter “Good girl” to the horse rather affectionately a few minutes earlier.
“Nutmeg.”
“That’s cute,” you reply.
The silence feels heavy, begging you to face what you’ve both left unsaid throughout the day. It’s the first time you’ve really been alone together since you got here. But you’re both too scared to bring up the countless assumptions made by his friends over and over again during the time you’ve spent together that you’re dating, fearing that the conversation, supposed to be a joking one, would inevitably progress into something much deeper.
“I’ve had fun today.”
He says it out of nowhere, making both your body and your heart jump a little.
“Me too.” He peeks his head out from the stall to smile at you, your response tinging the tips of his ears red.
A few minutes go by as you fall into a light dialogue, talking about anything and everything you can think of, getting to know each other more. As he’s finishing up, you finally stand from where you’ve been seated for the past 45 minutes, walking leisurely over to the shelf of supplies, which just so happens to be next to the stall door.
All of a sudden Nutmeg hears something that spooks her, and you don’t realize that she starts to charge towards the closed pair of wooden panels you’re currently right beside.
It’s an instant in which Chenle’s clumsiness from earlier in the day threatens to come back in a much more severe form if he doesn’t do something. Senses more alert than yours for whatever reason, he takes action without hesitation, and time seems to slow before his eyes as he does so.
Swiftly moving you out of the way of the split stall door less than a second before it swings open from the force of the horse’s strong neck, Chenle pulls you to him. His arms dart out to catch you tightly by the waist while he turns both of your bodies around, ensuring that he’s the one closest to the enclosure. His reasoning? If he doesn’t take you out of harm’s way fast enough, at least he’ll be the one that feels the impact, not you.
As you’re being held flush against his chest, your mind races to process just how you got into this position. But your heart presses pause on the gears of your brain, and allows you to just enjoy the close intimacy of the moment.
Chenle knows he should do something, say something, but all he can think of is to stay just like this. Your head is turned to the side, an ear pressed to his sternum and in the perfect spot to hear his heartbeat. Its not-so-steady thump matches your own, sounding much like the uneven rhythm that a young child might play on a drum set, striking the instrument with force and conviction and unwavering confidence.
If only you could confront your feelings for him in the same way.
Both thanking him and apologizing profusely for your lack of awareness, you move to take a tiny step back and away from the snug hold of his arms. Only, you find that you can’t. Chenle’s still holding your waist, oblivious to the fact that he’s been clutching you closely for the past thirty seconds in preparation for a moment that lasted less than one.
“You... you can let go of me now, Chenle,” you say apprehensively, a half smile on your lips as you attempt to look him in the eye without being overwhelmed by the urge to kiss him right then and there.
“Ah, right. My bad.”
Chenle’s not usually this bold when it comes to the physicality of a relationship, romantic or not. But he can’t help it that there seems to be an invisible gravitational force surrounding you, just begging for him to reach out and lay a tender hand on the small of your back. Compelling him to tangle your fingers together like a mess of yarn, with the ends fraying and coming undone but at the same time holding each other up, keeping each other from falling apart. Giving one another something to hold on to in the most unlikely of situations.
With only a few minutes left to spare in his shift, he tells you to wait outside while he packs all of the supplies up for the night. Once everything is back in its proper place, Chenle is just about to step outside through the swinging wooden doors of the stables when a small noise from the caramel-colored horse stops him in his tracks. Turning around, he carefully approaches the animal with an outstretched arm, stroking her shiny mane once he’s close enough.
“What am I going to do, Nutmeg?” The conversation is a futile one, he knows, but it proves to be therapeutic for his conscience. She nuzzles his hand with her snout as he leans onto the wall, lost in thought.
“Should I tell them how I feel?” Her large dark eyes peer back at him, and as silly as it sounds, Chenle gets the sense that she actually understands, despite her inability to respond with comprehensible words.
“I’ll do it, then. Not tonight, but soon. Before autumn ends,” he vows, making a promise to himself and his heart all at once.
Nutmeg lets out a small whinny as if to express her approval. Smiling at the animal’s nonverbal reassurance, he opens the door to step out into the chilly fall night, strides a little lighter and head held higher than usual.
As the small clock tower set up in the middle of the festival grounds tolls seven times, loud clangs disrupting the low and indistinct chatter of the evening, you and Chenle return to the same bench you sat on that afternoon, eyes heavy and feet tired by now.
“Your shift is over now, right?”
“Yeah,” he affirms. “Ready to go home?”
“Definitely.”
The festival has mostly cleared out, which is surprising for the time of night that it currently is. The lack of all the hustle and bustle around you makes it significantly easier to navigate the paths extending in nearly every direction across the grounds.
On your way to the exit of the festival, the same autumn-themed archway you ducked under several hours ago, you pass a few of the boys you met during the day, offering a small wave goodbye to them.
The roads are quiet as you and Chenle walk next to each other on the paved sidewalk, the streetlights placed at every small intersection between the tightly-knit suburban roads providing the only source of illumination. With no one around to hear his shaky voice, he turns to you and stutters out, “I know I didn’t ask for your permission to do this earlier, but may I hold your hand?”
You let him, but not without a bashful scratch to the back of your neck and a mumbled answer of “Sure” directed his way.
Like two schoolchildren with the biggest and most obvious crushes on each other, there’s a skip in both of your steps as you walk the rest of the way home. Insisting on staying outside of your house until he sees the light in your bedroom window turn on, Chenle bids you a sweet goodnight with a lingering hug and a small kiss to the top of your head that he mistakenly thinks you don’t notice.
That night you fall asleep with a smile on your face, visions of pumpkins dancing through your mind and the small one that you bought resting on your nightstand beside you.
It’s the first thing you see when you wake up the next morning, and you reach out to take the small item in your palm. You’re convinced that you can still feel the warmth of Chenle’s hands cradling it as he placed it on the scale, recording the measurement before he gave the miniature pumpkin to Mark, who told you how much it cost. You were so eager to accept the small tote bag Chenle was extending out to you that you didn’t even bother asking for your change back, shoving the money into Mark’s hand and insisting that he keep it.
Your eyes land on the same bag, sitting in the corner of your room, and it makes your face break out into a bright grin. Not even bothered by how early you’ve woken up, you bound down the stairs for breakfast, the most excited for the day ahead you can ever remember being.
You spend the next couple of weeks visiting Chenle during his shifts at the festival, sometimes staying late enough for him to walk you home like he did that first day. With each time he sees you, he warms up to your presence, becoming more like his usual witty and hardly-ever-flustered self. Oddly enough you start to act less and less like a couple, which doesn’t go unnoticed by his friends. The incessant blushing is gradually replaced by sarcastic banter with one another. You don’t know anyone who makes you laugh like Chenle does.
“Hey,” he pipes up one afternoon as you’re watching him organize some pumpkins. “What if I dyed my hair this color?” Chenle points to one that’s a particularly vivid shade of orange, raising his eyebrows as you think of a reply.
“Then you’d look like a pumpkin,” you hum in response.
He chuckles. “Is that supposed to be a bad thing?“
You shake your head. “Not necessarily. Are you really going to dye it, though?”
“Probably not.”
“As you wish, pumpkin.”
He whirls around, nearly dropping the stack of gourds in his hands. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me... pumpkin,” you smirk after repeating the new nickname, and it puts an impossibly cute pout on his face.
“Don’t call me that!”
You jokingly ruffle his hair, and Chenle’s small smile betrays his annoyed facade as he realizes he could get used to hearing the word roll off your tongue, not to mention you addressing him with it.
It’s the week of Halloween when the six boys that volunteer with Chenle at the festival meet up to create a plan that will, ideally, end with both of you confessing your feelings. All but one of them, which happens to be Mark, excitedly discuss possible ways to set you two up. Should they send you on a private hayride somehow? Or maybe they could get you to try out the corn maze together, and hopefully you would struggle with finding your way out long enough to express your mutual crushes on each other.
“I don’t know about this, guys. I still think we should just let them figure it out on their own.”
“You’re no fun, Mark,” Donghyuck chastises. The eldest shrugs, an expression of resignation on his face. At least he tried.
Finally, they decide on having both of you move between each of their respective areas or booths around the festival, dropping as many hints to you about the other’s infatuation as possible. First you’ll start the evening off by navigating through the corn maze, which they realize is impossible for you to get lost in since Chenle had to memorize the map of it. So much for their earlier plan.
After that, Renjun will usher you off towards Jisung’s station, the game area. Conveniently, he’ll suggest you play the balloon dart toss together, but there’s going to be a catch: one of you has to carry the other in their arms while they throw them. They laugh a little at how flustered they imagine you’ll get.
Next, Mark and Donghyuck will help you pick out the best pumpkin to carve for the upcoming holiday. You’ll start to pick it up, but Chenle will insist on holding it instead. If you had heard this, you would be fuming. Who says you’re not strong enough to carry a pumpkin on your own? You’ll show them.
To end the night, Jaemin and Jeno will “accidentally” only give you one stick of cotton candy, forcing you to share. By that time, they hope you’ll be perceptive enough to finally see that the attraction is mutual, diminishing the fear of rejection in both of your minds.
Not so surprisingly, nothing would go as planned.
The boys put their little scheme into action on the night of October 30th. Chenle is actually finished with his days of volunteering at this point, and even though he could stay home after working many long hours over the past few weeks, he opts to visit the festival as a guest this evening, with you by his side.
He picks you up outside of your house, waiting on the sidewalk right next to the same lamp post that the flyer for the festival was taped to, also known as the entire reason why you’re in this situation in the first place. If you hadn’t taken the time to read those words on the purple-colored page, you honestly don’t know where you’d be right now.
Dressed in your favorite and coziest autumn outfit, you practically fly down the stairs of your front porch to greet him. Like you’ve gotten used to doing by now, he holds your hand in his as you walk, taking the same route you always do.
Chenle’s heart beats a little faster when he sees your eyes light up at the sight of the festival in the distance. For the first time, you’ll both be able to enjoy the event together without being bombarded by constant requests to help with various tasks throughout the night. Or so you thought.
From the moment you step foot inside the grounds, Jisung is already standing at the entrance and hurriedly directing you to the corn maze. Confused but obedient nonetheless, you both head towards where his finger is pointing.
Chenle knows something is up as soon as he sees a familiar mischievous twinkle in Renjun’s dark eyes. “You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” he tells you.
“Chenle, it’s a maze. I don’t think they work like that.” He ignores your playful sarcasm.
Speaking in the quietest voice he can muster, which is quite a feat for him, Chenle leans in close to whisper harshly in the older boy’s ear. “What are you trying to pull?”
At a volume level that’s loud enough for you to hear, Renjun replies, “The others and I thought it would be fun to plan out your evening a little! So first we want you to start here, at the corn maze.”
“Aw, really? That sounds like fun!” Oblivious to the group’s true motives, you endorse their plan with your words. “Better get started,” Renjun winks. As you turn to make your way in between the tall rows of vegetables, he roughly yanks Chenle backward to quietly say, “There isn’t a more perfect time to confess to them, I mean, a romantic autumn night at the festival? Make a move already,” he encourages.
Glowering back at him, Chenle reluctantly follows you into the maze.
Only 15 minutes later you emerge from the corn stalks, the boys’ scheme momentarily forgotten. It quickly comes to mind again when you find Jisung waiting outside for you for the second time that night. One time too many, in Chenle’s opinion.
Not missing a beat, the younger of the two boys leads you both over to the area he’s assigned to. The wall of colorful balloons catches your attention immediately. “Let’s play this one!” You exclaim as you tug on his sleeve like a little kid. Delighted with your choice, Jisung quickly explains the rules, but the twist he adds to them goes right over your head. In fact, you’re the one that offers to carry Chenle first. Neither of your faces turn pink with embarrassed blushes.
You don’t even bat an eyelash as you carry the pumpkin that you picked out together in your arms, much to Donghyuck’s dismay. Mark just stands to the side, amused at their attempts to artificially force confessions out of you. The singular stick of cotton candy that Jaemin hands to you over the counter of the concessions stand fails to phase either of you whatsoever, and you end up just pinching off small pieces from the sticky sweet dessert with your hands. Jeno points out your simple solution to the boy standing next to him, observing their failure. “Why didn’t we think of that?” He mumbles.
The six boys finally gather together when they collectively realize they didn’t succeed, but actually did just the opposite. Making a small circle, they start to argue and pointlessly blame one another for causing everything to go wrong. You only manage to catch a few words of their heated conversation, but something in your gut tells you that they were up to more than just creating a schedule of activities for you to follow.
Exchanging glances, you and Chenle nod at each other, about to try and quietly slip away from them. Hand in hand, you take careful steps backwards, but before you can dash away Mark catches sight of you. Thankfully, he smiles a little and puts a finger to his lips, making a “shh” sign as he waves his hand in a signal for you to hurry up.
Abandoning all of your cares, you give up on going unnoticed by the group and shamelessly scamper off in the opposite direction.
“Wait, I know that place!” You shout excitedly as you pass a small playground meant for the younger visitors to the festival. “Can we go over there?” You plead with him, but you suppose you shouldn’t call it that since he gives in to your request so easily.
The child-sized vehicle standing in the center of the play area is a familiar sight to you, and Chenle knows what you’re about to ask him before you even open your mouth. “Go ahead,” he says with a loving smile on his face as he motions to the carriage, designed to look like the very object that the entire festival itself centers around. Catching up to you, Chenle steps forward a little so that he reaches the small stairs leading up to it first.
“Your highness,” Chenle bows, crossing one foot behind the other and bending a knee. Opening the creaky door to the pumpkin carriage for you, he gestures to the inside of the oversized fruit, the graceful movement ushering you to climb inside. You bashfully tug on your striped scarf, holding the woolen material up against your cheeks as you laugh at his chivalrous display. It tickles a little, and he thinks you look even more adorable bundled up like that.
The interior is much smaller than you remember. But then again, you had been much smaller the last time you sat in this very seat.
Calling the inside of the carriage cramped is an understatement. There are two narrow benches on either side of it, the space on the floor between them barely enough to fit the legs of one occupant, much less two. Chenle struggles but eventually sits down across from you, unintentionally forcing your knees to rest in between his. The small windows on the squeaky, rusty doors do little to let in any light whatsoever. In the darkness, you can’t see the boy’s face flush at your closeness.
‘What now?’ You think to yourself, wondering if you’re brave enough in this moment to finally tell him how you feel, how much you enjoy his company, how special he’s become to you. And though you don’t know it, across from you Chenle is contemplating doing the same. He beats you to it with his next actions.
Your racing train of thought skids to an abrupt halt when you feel his hand on the lower part of your thigh, touch innocent and timid as it lingers on the soft fabric of your corduroy pants.
Eyes hurriedly adjusting to the dim space surrounding you, you feel his fingers grasp your own before you see them. At last you make eye contact with each other, gazes boring into one another and recognizing the same things, the same feelings in them. Chenle’s clutching your hand in his now, the first still resting comfortably on your thigh, and you feel the dull sensation of his legs bending inward, squeezing your knees together. His mouth opens, rounded lips parting as though to ask the question that you both already know the answer to. You bring an arm up to hold him by the shoulder, the movement in itself confirming that this is what you want as well. That he’s what you want.
Careful not to bump your heads against the low ceiling of the carriage, he leans towards you, closing the already minimal distance between your faces as he meets your lips in a kiss.
Heads tilting and eyelashes fluttering shut at the same instant, you both pour every unspoken thought, every secret glance, every loving word that never made it past your lips into the contact they currently share. The moment itself feels long overdue, like something you could have done on that first day you spent at the festival together.
It means more this way, though. The amount of time it took for this to happen gave you more time to discover and get comfortable with the way you feel about Chenle. To get comfortable with him. His presence, his humor, his personality, his touch, everything about him is something you’ve grown to depend on over these past few weeks.
Even your lips begin to depend on Chenle as they fall into place against his own, moving with a fervor you weren’t even aware you possessed.
There’s a quiet rhythm to the osculation of your lips, an airy sigh or breath from one of you breaking the silence every few seconds. In the midst of the indescribably wonderful sensation that is the kiss you’re sharing, you faintly feel his hand start to move up and down your leg, not in a provocative way but a reassuring one. His loving caresses have you leaning further into him even though there’s barely enough room to do so, making you wish for one reason and one reason alone that you were having this kiss somewhere else. Otherwise, the location is perfect.
More than a decade has passed since you were just a young child, begrudgingly posing for a photo for your parents by poking your head out through the same small window of the carriage. Since then, the orange of the paint has dulled, the once-soft carpet on the floor has become coarse from the countless shoes that have trodden over it. The wooden doors are splintered and, though never functional, the carriage’s large wheels have undoubtedly begun to show their age with the amount of dirt and dust caught in the grooves.
You’ve made many memories in this place, but the one you’re making today is sure to be unforgettable.
Chenle would give anything to be able to hold you right now, to maybe bring you onto his lap in a tender embrace as he shows you just how fast and how hard he’s fallen for you. Not that volunteering at the festival was a bad thing at all, but you made it so much more bearable, so much more fun. The thought of spending another perfect day with you was more than enough to get him out of bed every morning.
He compromises for the restrictions that the enclosed space places on your movements by untangling his fingers from yours, choosing to cup your cheek with them instead. You’re a little disappointed when his hand lifts from its place on your thigh, anxiousness bubbling up in your gut as you anticipate where he’s going to place it next.
It’s safe to say you just about melt when you feel his palm come up to delicately cradle one side of your chin, thumb darting out to glide along the skin that’s just below your bottom lip. Arching into him, you make the most of the little room you have left to pull him closer.
It’s then that your lungs finally catch up to both of you, sending simultaneous signals telling you to breathe. Granted, Chenle’s kisses feel like all the oxygen you’ll ever need anyway.
Reluctantly leaning away, your chests heave with muted but sharp gasps. A pang of worry hits you when he doesn’t smile, doesn’t laugh, doesn’t say anything. His mouth has fallen open, eyes wide with just as much anticipation as you feel. Taking what feels like the biggest breath in your life, you pray your voice doesn’t tremble as you speak for the first time since you clambered into the dark, cozy carriage.
“I really like you, Chenle.”
The relief that washes over you when he responds is unlike any you’ve ever felt before.
“I like you, too.”
But he’s not done.
“...A lot, in case you hadn’t noticed.” The extra detail makes you giggle, smiling shyly at anything that isn’t him.
He goes to lean in again when you stop him. “Wait, wait, can we at least get out of here first? I want to do this properly.”
You scoot sideways after he nods in agreement, far enough for him to open the door and step down from the elevated imitation of a pumpkin. He extends a hand up to you once he’s on solid ground again, and you take it. His face breaks into that signature bubbly grin of his that’s more contagious than you’d like to admit.
Joining him on the grassy surface, you dramatically stretch your arms out in front of you, waiting for him to reciprocate the hug you’re implicitly requesting.
The impish twinkle in his eye you know so well appears with his next words. “Can I pick you up?”
“You’ll drop me!” You retort, scoffing.
“Aw, c’mon! No I won’t,” he pouts. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Do I?”
“Yes, you do.”
Strong arms envelop your form as he lifts you into the air, only to pull you tightly against his torso. Not even the world’s fluffiest blanket can compare to the fleecy warm softness of the plaid shirt and sweater vest he’s wearing.
The enamored smile on Chenle’s face is the kind that would have made you weak in the knees if you were standing. Forgetting that you’re no longer shielded from the world by the carriage’s privacy, he presses your foreheads together and cutely nuzzles your nose with his own.
Framing his sharp jawline with both of your hands, you lean in to share a second kiss with the boy you wish you had gotten to know sooner. It’s no use wondering about what could have been, however, so for now you decide to focus on only this moment, only these lips, only Chenle. The way he smiles into the kiss has you reeling with affection.
Not even the distant cheers that just barely reach your eardrums can tear you away from each other.
When you feel as though the kiss has conveyed all you want and need to say to one another, Chenle begins to mumble against your lips. In a voice low enough for only you to hear, he says, “We’re going to have to face them sooner or later, you know.”
“How about never?” You reply, grumbling.
“Just follow my lead, okay? I’m used to their teasing,” he comforts.
“If you say so...”
Breaking out of the kiss-induced daze, you both look over to where the six boys stand, clapping and pumping their fists in the air in celebration with one another.
One of them, probably Renjun, you can’t quite tell, cups his hands around his mouth in preparation for the shout that leaves it not even a second later.
“It’s about damn time!”
“I told you guys if we just left them alone they’d figure it out themselves!” Mark adds triumphantly.
Apparently more than one kiss is one too many for his friends to see, and enough to make the small group turn away, yelling for you to “get a room” at the top of their lungs. You feel Chenle smirk against your lips at their repulsed reactions.
“Serves them right.”
You agree.
You’ve never had someone to spend Halloween night with before, and boy does this stress Chenle out to no end. He wants everything to be perfect, wants to do everything that a couple should do on such a holiday. “It’s really not a big deal, Chenle,” you insist sympathetically as he paces your living room floor, currently obsessing over what costumes you should wear.
“But... it’s you, and you’re a big deal. A big deal to me. I just want to make you happy.”
“Nothing could make me happier than being able to call you mine,” you proclaim proudly, enjoying the way his face practically turns into a tomato when what you’ve just said registers in his brain. “Stop it,” he stutters, lowering his head to stare at the carpet under his feet. You just giggle.
The excitement of the night is unlike any other. Your neighborhood’s streets are full of mostly children, but some adults and grandparents too, all taking part in the festivities. Going from doorstep to doorstep, you chant the famous three-word phrase at each house, assuring anyone who answers the door that you’re never too old to trick or treat if they ask. You get lots of compliments on your matching costumes: Chenle’s dressed as Sully and you’re Mike Wazowski from Monsters Inc. The soft fur on his outfit makes it extremely difficult for you to hold yourself back from hugging him any chance you get.
With your bags full of enough candy to last you two months at least, you return home for the night, this time crashing at his place. Despite the fact that it’s already getting late, both of you quickly change into some more comfortable clothes before settling in on his couch for a Halloween movie marathon.
“How about...” Chenle scrolls through the large selection of films on the screen. “The Nightmare Before Christmas?”
“No!” You cry out abruptly, lightly pounding against his chest with one of your fists before returning it to its original position around his waist.
Looking down at you, currently curled up in his lap with your other arm thrown rather lazily over his sturdy shoulders and your side pressing into his torso, he asks, “Why not?”
In a small voice, you respond. “It... gave me nightmares when I was little.”
“Really? A Disney movie?”
“Yes, now can we please stop talking about it and pick something else?”
“Aw, are you scared?”
“Shut up!” You whine shyly, burying your face as far as it would go into the thin fabric of his loose white t-shirt.
“Hey,” he hushes you, “I’m not making fun of you, baby. It’s okay... I’ve got you.”
Chenle swears he feels the warmth of your blush against his shoulder, generated by his unusual use of that particular term of endearment.
He runs a reassuring palm along one of your arms down to your hand. Effortlessly he winds each of his fingers around yours, like piecing together the most delicate of puzzles, and you remember how this action would have flustered both of you beyond belief mere weeks before. It’s become so simple, so instinctive a movement, saying everything you need to know without even the slightest whisper of a word in the air.
Rubbing small circles into the skin on the back of your neck with his other hand, he holds you close, the harsh light from the television illuminating your form as it clings to his.
You eventually decide on an actual horror movie that leaves you muffling your shrieks with a pillow, but Chenle just laughs with a pitch so high that it reminds you of a certain marine mammal. You scold him by giving his shoulder a whack. “Shh, Chenle! You’re going to wake the whole neighborhood up!”
“Hey, you were screaming too!”
“That’s not screaming, that’s called laughing, you dummy.”
Hours later, Chenle’s arm hangs limply down into the large bowl of treats you’ve been sharing. The soft snores next to your ear tell you that he’s fallen asleep. His family finds you two knocked out cold the next morning, covered in fuzzy blankets and colorful candy wrappers strewn about the sofa.
Indeed, this would be a Halloween to remember, and you hope to spend many more together in the future. With Chenle in your arms right now, there’s no place in this world that you would rather be. And it’s all thanks to a flimsy piece of paper on a lamp post.
#nct#nct au#nct fanfic#nct dream#nct 127#wayv#nct dream fanfic#nct dream scenarios#nct dream au#chenle fanfic#chenle fluff#chenle angst#chenle au#chenle x reader#chenle scenarios#chenle imagines#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct dream imagines#fluff#angst#nct fluff#nct angst#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct dream fluff#nct dream angst#zhong chenle#nct soft hours#chenle soft hours
284 notes
·
View notes