#anyway I’m sick right now and I can’t face doing homework so instead I’m finally freeing this from my drafts lmao

[captainswan618]

Tagged by @hypahfixations and @sentientsky (about a million years ago lol)

Tagging @darlsbardlife, @enokitaki, @galwithalibrarycard, and @fuzzyhairedfreak :)

[taechaos]

Silent Treatment

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you.

warnings: slight angst, drugs, arguing, dubcon, cunnilingus, mild degredation

word count: 4.2k

tags: @mwitsmejk @1-in-abillion @kooookie

a/n: the request (contains some spoilers). i'm gonna take a very short break from this couple to write other requests!! hope u enjoy 💗

The shift in the Spring weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s chilly, and the other sunny. Humans can only adapt so much, and it causes an outbreak of common colds. Most people recover easily, handy medicine soothing their sore throats, syrups suppressing coughs, and nose sprays ridding the blockage. You, on the other hand, are not that lucky. With a weak immune system, you’re very careful to not get sick, but there must have been a slip-up because you’ve somehow lost your voice after catching a cold.

You sniffle and cough, but you can’t speak. It’s advised to not exert your vocal cords in cases like these, and that is just so unfortunate for you. The last thing you’d ever want to do is spread your sickness to Jungkook, and that meant not getting too close to him; it meant no kissing. 

A very large white placard is spread out in front of you on the wooden table, and you’re plastering printed images of a specific global issue on it. You’re sitting on a bench with two of your friends as they chatter mindlessly while you work. Jungkook has a project about climate change due in a few days, and it’s supposed to be very important for his final grade. You’ve already written him a script for his presentation along with a stick prop to point at specific pictures. It’s fun, glittery and he’s going to love it. 

“Hey,” Minnie, your friend, calls for you, “we’re going to get some coffee from Starbucks. Want us to get you green tea?”

Soyeon laughs when your eyes light up; it’s your favorite beverage, and it’s supposed to help with your sore throat. They leave with a smile after you give them a hyper nod and you’re alone as you adjust your woolen scarf around your neck. You need to heal as fast as you can so you’re no longer missing your beloved’s affection.

Jungkook has been feeling more inclined to approach you without reason lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s a common occurrence. Getting teased by his friend, specifically Taehyung, about having a sissy crush on a girl like yourself angered him to no end. A hit always got him to shut up, but not for long. He’s walking your way today because there’s no one around to judge him for talking to you. 

You’re tearing a double-sided tape when he sits on your table, carefully avoiding your materials. Your breath hitches as his eyes gloss over your work in progress. “Working hard, I see,” he comments with disinterest. He doesn’t say anything about your efforts, but he’s impressed. The corner of his lip tugs upwards before he leans in for a kiss. You have enough self-control and concern for his well-being over your desires to lean back before your lips make contact. His face is close to yours as he pauses and slightly frowns before trying again. He receives the same results and finally pulls back. 

“You did well,” he frowns at you and speaks as if you’re a child, “I’m praising you.” Your eyes are darting back and forth awkwardly and you don’t know what to do other than sit in silence. You put your hands on his knees as a resort and his frown deepens as he watches you. “I can take a hint, you know. You don’t have to fucking ignore me.” He roughly shoves your hands and stands up before storming off with a scoff. You’re torn between following him and being responsible over your belongings. You can’t let his grades go to waste because of a small misunderstanding, so you decide to text him instead. There’s always a possibility someone might steal his project. Or maybe after he’s cooled off? You delay the message, but somewhere in your heart, you’re satisfied by his reaction because it’s clear that he wanted to kiss you.

Heavy footsteps clomp against the sidewalk before Jungkook slumps on the seat next to Taehyung. It’s an isolated area for smoking students at the back of the campus, and his friend group is no exception to this role. They’re taking drags of cigarettes individually as Jungkook glares at his boots. They’re chunky and a bold black, and his dark outfit paints him as the big bad wolf. It fits, because he’s ready to attack when he’s filled with so much resentment. Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you. It doesn’t make sense, but you also grimaced at him, but then why were you doing his homework? He’s feeling frustrated, and upset all the same.

“Someone’s troubled,” Seokjin points out with a mouthful of smoke. “Kookie?”

Said boy only grunts in response.

“Did the lousy girl finally see you for who you really are and leave you?” Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to mock him with a pout. “Tragic.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” Jungkook spits and sends him a death glare, fire flaming in his fierce eyes. “Go actually talk to a girl or something, and leave me alone. I can’t take your shit right now.”

The low blow doesn’t affect Taehyung in the slightest as he holds up his hands in defence with comically wide eyes. “Relax, tiger.”

“Moving on from Tae’s inability to talk to girls in broad daylight, what’s up with you Kook?” Namjoon butts in, earning a fake cough from the receiving end of the insult.

He pauses for a moment before babbling, “I hate those bitches. My mother for one, couldn’t stand wearing clothes whenever she saw a dude. Moving on from guy to guy, unless they’re a fucking asshole. What do they want? Why are they never fucking satisfied?!”

A moment of silence passes among the huddled friends before Yoongi breaks it with a joke, “Who’s the lucky girl?” It doesn’t land as Jungkook deeply sighs in response. “Did she cheat on you?” he tries again.

“No,” he murmurs.

“Then…?”

“She… I don’t fucking know, she gave me the silent treatment. She leaned away from me too,” he shakes his head with a quiet groan, “it just doesn’t add up. I got mad and left.”

“No way that could’ve ended up badly,” Taehyung chuckles but purses his lips when he’s sent another dirty look.  “How long was the interaction anyway?” 

“Like 30 seconds.”

“Are you coming out tonight?” Yoongi asks and puts out the burning tip of his stick. “Could help you feel better.”

“And we’ve got molly,” Namjoon adds.

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Alcohol’s effect on a person differs in moods, and Jungkook is usually a horny drunk. Being a sad drunk is a first for him tonight, but he’s just so confused. It made his heart drop when you outwardly refused his advances and anxiety blossomed in his chest, which he has no idea how to deal with. It kicked in fight or flight instincts, and he just… hated the idea of you not loving him, even if it’s momentary. He can’t bear staying in a situation that makes him feel so insecure, and that feeling is supposed to be left in his childhood. You just about brought out the worst in him without doing anything. 

You didn’t do anything.

It’s 10PM and he’s waiting on your usual good night text that he never responds to. It’s so pathetic, and he hates himself for being so used to your affection that it worries him when he’s deprived of it. He’s never doubted your love for him, but his insecurities are churning his gut. It’s an overflow of all of his pent-up emotions, and he can’t handle it.

“Here,” Taehyung pops in out of nowhere, clutching a pill in his hand. There’s a bottle of water in the other as he holds them out for Jungkook to take. “Stop moping and get laid.”

“I’d say the same to you, but you’d probably start crying during sex,” he mumbles and uncaps the bottle before throwing in the pill and washing it down with the water. “Thanks.”

“See that girl over there?” he ignores him and steps behind his miserable friend to point at the owner of the sultry gaze directed at Jungkook from the bar. “She wants to fuck you. Or maybe me, but I’m passing her onto you.”

“How kind of you,” he sarcastically replies.

“Uh-uh, so you’re gonna be in ecstasy in about 10 minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” He slaps his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. It’s a lonesome party because not a lot of people are allowed in when drugs are involved. Causing a ruckus, receiving a noise complaint and then getting arrested is out of the question. 

He isn’t interested in sex with a stranger - not today at least -, but he hopes for it to change as he waits to approach her. Maybe drugs will rile him up enough to have fun with someone else and rid his mind of you. It’s an annoying itch on his brain, so he rests his head against the couch to comfort himself with the soft fabric. He’s sleepy from the beer he drank earlier, and he doesn’t know how time goes by so fast when he closes his eyes.

A few minutes must have passed, because he’s starting to feel dizzy in his seat. A smile carves on his face as his mind grows slightly fogged, and he opens his eyes to find the girl quietly chatting with a friend. When she glances at him, he beckons her to come over. She mouths a “be right back” to her friend before strutting in his direction.

“Hey,” she smiles down at him before sitting on the couch. She’s aristocratic, chic and pretty. “Sorry if I weirded you out earlier.” Her voice is sweet like honey, and her words flow out of her tongue so naturally. A dream girl, really, and Jungkook is starting to get horny.

“I don’t mind,” he reassures with a subtle seductive tone, “what’s a girl like you doing with this crowd? You look too innocent.” He wraps a finger around a strand of her hair and twirls it. It feels strange.

“My friend sent me here, told me to watch over someone,” she lowly speaks. “I’m Soyeon.”

“Nice to meet you, Soyeon,” he breathes before crashing her lips with his. His hand reaches down to grip her thigh, tongue poking out to swipe the sticky gloss. It’s flavored, and it tastes of strawberry. When she kisses him back so slowly, innocently, it turns him on so much. His pants feel tight around his crotch as he runs another hand through her soft hair. Compared to him, she’s passionate whereas he’s sloppy. He’s starting to get dizzier, and it feels so fucking good, but he hates it.

There is not a single reason for him to not enjoy this, not when his mood is lifting so high. The hand on her thigh lands on her cleavage instead and she’s so submissive and shy, but something’s off. He groans into her mouth before biting her lip, ripping a whine out of her. Why does she sound so sexy and annoying?  

He pulls away from her before sighing in irritation. “Fuck, I can’t do this.” 

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“No, just, fuck.” He starts laughing before rubbing his palms on his eyes, “I really want to fuck, but I just can’t.”

“We can just chat,” she softly suggests. “What’s your name?”

“Jungkook.”

He removes his hands from his face when she goes silent. Her eyes are wide and she’s gaping at him… guiltily? “Crap,” she hisses quietly, “I was supposed to make sure you were okay. My roommate is like, super in love with you and asked me to come here.”

He says your name in a question, wondering if it’s you. When she nods, he asks for your dorm instantly.

“She’s in room 124… Why?”

When he stands up, there’s a sway in his posture but he recovers quickly. There’s an involuntary grin on his face as he thanks her ignorantly. He’s out of the villa in a rush, and he has the overwhelming urge to just run. The campus is a bit far away from the house, but he doesn’t care as his footfalls echo in the dark streets. He has so much energy to waste, and with his current stamina, he’s confident he’ll find you before dawn. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and he doesn’t care for catching his breath as the corner stores pass by him in a blur. 

Throughout the two hours of his reckless jog, where he mixed up directions multiple times, his mind is starting to clear up little by little. He’s happy because of what Soyeon told him, and he feels relieved upon seeing the familiar college building. He’s not allowed in dorms at this time, but he’s done this too many times to get caught. Except he was drunk in those instances, and being on MDMA was different. Sneaking past security was tough because he couldn’t bring himself to tiptoe without making so much noise. When they glanced at him, he thought it to be the only choice to just run past them. He’s in the elevator by the time they catch on, and the numbers look wonky in his eyes but he presses the button for the right floor. 

He’s shifting his weight repeatedly in an attempt to contain his excitement; he wants to see you so bad. The moment he hears the ding of the elevator, he’s running past the halls and stops upon seeing 124. He has to squint, but he knows this is your dorm. 

You wake up with a silent gasp when there’s a pound on the door. You clutch your sheets in fear until someone starts to sing your name. “Jungkook?” you mouth to yourself. You stand up and look through the peephole and there’s a man on the other side who’s bouncing on his feet impatiently.

“Open up,” he sings loudly. You’re worried when you swing the door open and yank him inside so he doesn’t wake up any other students. You try to talk but only a wheeze comes out, so you switch on the light to see him instead. The brightness hurts your eyes as you close them for a few seconds. “Well, well, well, look who we have here…”

He starts to circle around you slowly and stumbles behind you. “Sending people to spy on me after rejecting me like that.” His words are slightly slurred and you turn around to face him with a pout. You point at your throat to give him a hint, but his eyes don’t waver from your pleading ones. “What are your intentions, huh?” he weakly pushes you, “Sending me mixed signals. Who- who do you think you are?”

You hold his hands and place them on your neck, trying to communicate with him by mouthing, “I’m sick,” but he only chuckles. He seems sickeningly joyous, but he’s not over his anger. “Still not going to talk to me? What did I even do?”

You deeply inhale from your nose because he’s not paying attention to you. You’re frustrated with yourself until he yells, “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?” The surge of serotonin, his state of euphoria is crashing down on him the more you ignore him. He had believed the drug would only make him happy, but it intensified his sadness and anxiety just as much when he saw you. It helped him forget you in a social circle, but you confused him so much after he was reassured for so long - coupled with your silence, he’s raging.

“Why are you ignoring me?! What did I do that was so bad that you can’t bear talking to me anymore? You told me you loved me, please,” he chokes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I-I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sad right now. Just say something…”

You’re watching him in shock and a hint of fear from his fluctuating mood. You want to cry at how pitiful he looks, but instead you aim to grab a piece of paper from your bedside table. He misreads your actions and pushes you against the wall. “Stop this. Stop!” He has your arms pinned and he’s trying so hard to intimidate you so you give in. A dry sob leaves you because he's going mad, but then he has a sudden epiphany. “Maybe you’ll love me again if I fuck you hard enough and engrave it in your brain that you’re mine. Yes, yes!”

He starts unbuckling his belt and you immediately try to stop him; he’ll get sick! He shoves you again and pulls down his jeans before mashing his mouth against yours. All of your efforts have gone to waste when his tongue forces its way down your throat. There’s no point to denying him now, so you hesitantly kiss him back. You’re so guilty, and he’s so careless as he roughly pushes his hand down your white cotton shorts. You’re wearing a navy blue sweater to match so you don’t get cold in the night, but the shorts are meant to prevent a fever. What’s the point now, then? He hasn’t even read your texts that you only remembered to send before sleeping. He missed a whole paragraph of your explanation and confronted you so angrily.

“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he growls against your lips, “then you’ll remember how much you love me.” Your moans are quiet and hitched as he presses down on your clit through your panties. His other hand is on his cock as he strokes it eagerly, ready to get inside you. “I missed you so fucking much in one day,” he whispers in a croak. Hearing it makes you feel even warmer inside as you nudge his hand to urge him to enter you. “You missed me too, huh?” he takes notice of your neediness. “Shouldn’t have fucking brought it upon yourself then.”

He removes his hand from your shorts and taps your thighs before demanding, “Jump.” You bite your lip in consideration until he taps them harder and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. Your shorts are relatively short, resembling loose boxers, so when your back is pressed against the wall he only pushes them and your underwear to the side before thrusting into you. A scream gets caught in your throat, and you forget all about your aches as he roughly fucks into you without caring for protection or lube. It stings only slightly, but the pleasure in feeling so full of him outweighs the pain.

Jungkook is moaning and groaning as he bruises your thighs in his hold. Your panting is all he can catch, and though the feeling of you is an amplified sensation because of the drug coursing in his system, he wants to hear you chant his name as well. “Still quiet?” he tuts and carries you to your narrow bed and you cling onto his shoulder while trying to catch your breath after the sudden attack. “Your cunt is throbbing though,” he says as he pulls out of you and drops you on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you on your stomach and holds up your ass. He finally takes off your bottom clothing, but he’s slightly dizzy as he yanks them off your ankles. He spreads your thighs apart and you’re on your knees with your head against the mattress. “I wonder why that is,” he says before slapping your pussy, making you whimper quietly. “So wet, yet you don’t even make a sound. Some whore you are.” You purse your lips and muster a whine, but it’s interrupted when he pistons his cock inside you without warning. Your sounds are hoarse as he pounds into you from the back, hands kneading your ass to the shape of his hands. He gives it a spank as he moans loudly; the new position makes it feel so much more intense, and Jungkook loves it. His ears finally get to hear your pathetic mewls as he thrusts so deeply inside you that your vision blurs with tears and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You feel like a doll that can’t speak or move, and he’s evidently enjoying it going by his rushed pace. You’re challenging him with your silence, and he loves proving himself.

All of a sudden however, he stops moving. You look behind you with a pout and he quirks a brow at you. You grit your teeth because you know he's waiting for you to tell him to continue, or rather daring you to do something. A sudden surge of confidence overcomes you and you gently slam your hips against his, fucking yourself on his cock with your eyes screwed shut.

“Yes, baby,” he strains, “show me that you're still my good girl.” At his encouragement, you meet his thrusts faster and you're seeing stars at how amazing it feels. You want to be his good girl so bad, and you arch your back to savour the pleasure. “Your pussy is mine, all mine,” he affirms to himself and stills your hips to turn you around without removing his length. His fingers are digging into your flesh and your tits bounce under the fabric as he rams into you restlessly. Your mouth is open in a silent scream and he can barely make out your pupils, the whites of your eyes stirring his climax at how attractive you look under the poor lighting. “I love you so fucking much,” he cries, “say it back, baby.”

You try to, but you can only dryly cough. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses at your defiance and pulls out of you to pump his length. He’s close to his release, and he pushes up your sweater to see your hard nipples that make him salivate. He crawls to slide his cock between the valley of your breasts and it hurts when he harshly pushes them together. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands in a whisper, and you do so while panting like a dog. Every time he thrusts upwards, the tip of his head grazes your tongue and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s massaging your tits as he stutters between whines, and eventually his load spurts out to land on your chest and cheek with a particularly loud groan. His cum surges down his shaft as he rides out his high with the last slow thrusts. 

“Oh fuck,” he sighs airily and collapses next to you in the tiny space available. You clumsily turn on your side to give him more room and he pecks your swollen lips. He zips his pants back up and you’re still naked from the waist down. You’re staring at each other adoringly in the romantic, fragile atmosphere; another first.

“I love you,” you croak finally. It’s quieter than a whisper, and it makes you cringe at how hideous you sound; it’s painful as well.

His face lights up once he registers your words before noticing the tone. “What happened to your voice?”

“Sick.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything more as you snuggle into his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Shit,” he murmurs, “why didn’t you tell me that sooner, idiot?”

You slap a hand on his front pocket where his phone is, and he hastily takes it out to see a bunch of notifications from you. “You sent it at night, you’re still the idiot.” You giggle and roll your eyes. “A promise is a promise, though,” he purrs before cupping your bare heat. “I did say I would fuck you all night.” You widen your eyes when his head lowers down to face your sopping wet cunt, and he slowly licks up a stripe over your soaked folds, making you shudder and grip his hair. He’s leaving kitty licks all over your sensitivity, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against your clit every now and then. Your hips lift involuntarily, and he finally takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it loudly. He slurps your arousal before spitting it back on your hood, and you can only squeak in response. Your hazed mind only tells you that you want more, and he doesn’t fail to provide.

Two fingers enter your clenching hole, and he’s scissoring your walls as he messily eats you out. The pleasure from earlier returns all too soon and you know you won’t be able to last long. His lids are hooded when you glance down at him and the way he’s looking at you makes it even harder to resist your orgasm. The knot in your stomach picks back up right before unraveling and your moan is raspy as you start twitching under his relentless mouth. He grows gentle and leaves kisses all over your vulva until your body falls limp on the sheets.

After another round of penetrative sex, the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion in your bed. It’s a first for the both of you, and Jungkook decides in his drunken mind that tonight won’t be the last. It feels so intimate when he cuddles you, and you won’t ever forget his love confession.

The next morning is not so pleasant however, as Jungkook wakes up with a loud sneeze and in his now nasal voice says, “God fucking damn it.”

[misstressshelby]

The Good The Bad and Everything In-between

Summary: Living with two Shebly men has its ups and downs. A second part of my Lost Boy writing. (I suck at summaries)

Warnings: Language

Word Count:1,856

Paring: Tommy/Reader (Reader is GN but there is a slight refecne to pregnancy)

(A/N: I just want to say thank you for 50 notes on Lost Boy! I didn’t think anyone would he interested in a little headcanon I created. I guess we can all agree Finn deserved better. )

You longed for Arrow House even as it’s large gates came into view. Tommy planned to go eighty percent legitimate by the end of next year so that meant playing nice with the tofts. Spending all afternoon with the wives of Tommy’s business associates had drained you. You couldn’t remember if the pit in your stomach or the thumping in your head started before or after lunch.

All you knew was as soon as you entered the house you instantly felt better. Mary was waiting for you as usual. You had lived in Arrow House for a year now but still weren’t used to having maids around.

“Good afternoon Mrs.Shelby. How was your lunch?” Mary smiled as soon you walked in.

“Long Mary, very long.” You gave a tight smile back. Offering a ‘Thank You” as she took your coat.

Before you could ask her where the rest of your family was, Finn walked out of the living room. He was still wearing his school uniform he claimed to hate because it made him look like a “posh twat”. His tutor Mr.Chapman followed behind him shuffling papers into a briefcase.

“Hello, Finn, how's tutoring going?’ You asked.

‘Yeah, it’s alright.’ The redhead grunted back before moving to go outside.

“Are you finished with your homework?” You questioned already suspecting the answer.

“Nah I got a couple more pages but I wanna go to the stables. I’ll only be an hour I swear it.” Finn gave you the pleading look he’d mastered.

After considering it for a moment you nodded,” An hour Finn. Then you finish up your homework before dinner.”

The boy gave you half a hug on his way out. He had to lean down to capture you in his arms. He was only fifteen but he was already taller than you and your husband though Tom would never admit it.

Watching Finn run out the door you turned your attention to the tutor. The man was standing in the hallway fiddling with his bag uneasily.

“How is he doing Mr.Chapman?'' You finally addressed him.

“Well he’s doing alright I suppose.” He continued seeing your questioning stare. “He’s still struggling with a few concepts but he’s quick to figure things out.”

“Yeah, that’s the Shelby in ‘im” You chuckle to yourself. “Do we owe you for the week?

Shaking his head Mr.Chapman told you “No.No. Mr.Shelby already took care of it.’

Adjusting his satchel he quickly left out the same door as Finn. He never stayed long after their sessions.

Not giving it much thought, you headed straight to your husband’s office. He was already gone when you woke this morning and as silly as it was you missed him. After knocking against the door you pull it open before Tommy’s muffled “come in” could even start.

“Hello, Tommy, how ‘is your day going?” You greet him while making the short walk to his desk.

He looked up from his papers with a cigarette hanging off his lips to give a short “Busy.”, before writing again.

You didn’t let this deter you as you sat on the edge of his desk that wasn’t covered in files. Taking the cigarette from his lips you kissed him as if you had been deprived of him for months.

“The tutor just left. He said Finn is making good progress.” You informed him.

He watched as you took a drag off his cigarette with a glint in his eyes. Knowing you wouldn’t leave until he gave you the attention you demanded he leaned back in his chair.

“How was lunch with Minnie and Ida then?” He asked.

‘It was like every other boring lunch, we sat around and ate tiny food while they complained about the other wives. I've invited Minnie and Richard to dinner next Wednesday.”, You could feel your headache return as you told him.

Tommy gave you a curious look waiting for you to take another drag.

‘She was telling me Richard is looking into investing in the car business while it’s on the rise and all. So I figured we’d have them for dinner and if business happens to be brought up you two can talk about it.” You explain.

“So happens to be brought up?” Tommy teased.

“Yes, it usually happens at these things.” You tell him with a slight smile.

“Now you finish up whatever you’re doing. Dinner will be ready at seven.” You command slipping off the desk while putting the cigarette out in the ashtray.

Your husband let out a loud sigh which was never a good sign.

“Love, I have a lot of work to do ton-’ He started.

“Yes, and you can finish it when you come back from dinner.” You cut him off.

This was the ever-going battle in your home making Tommy stop working and take care of himself. But you’d be damned if you didn’t go down without a fight.

You lean over the side of the desk pulling him lightly by his silk tie into another kiss.

“Thomas Shelby, I will drag you out of this office. Don’t you think for a second I won’t.” You threaten him with a grin.

” Wouldn’t dream of it Mrs.Shelby.”, He smirked back.

At seven on the dot, you all sat down for dinner together as a family.

Finn talked for most of the dinner about school and his favorite football club going to the championship.

You mused about your plans for Minnie’s dinner Wednesday.

Tommy spent most of dinner listening, offering nods or the occasional “yeah”.

Once he and Finn started talking about a horse he wanted to buy for the races he didn’t stop. Long forgotten was the pile of contracts in his office.

For the first time since you woke this morning you were content. The moments you spent with your little family were the ones you cherished the most.

~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of a door slamming startled you awake. While the two voices yelling kept you from falling back to sleep. Before you could wonder what the fuss was about, an acidic taste overtook your mouth. You barely made it to the toilet, your knees hitting the hard floor as the bile rose. By the time you had emptied your stomach laying on the bathroom floor the screaming had stopped.

You couldn’t think about anything over the pounding in your head made worse from the buzzing of the lights. Making your way downstairs you noticed everything irritated you.

The fact that you tripped over Thomas’s shoes you had told him to put away last night. The coldness of the house even though there was a fireplace in almost every room. Even the way Mary greeted you with “Good Morning Mrs.Shelby.” seemed to drip with condescension.

As you reached the dining room you had a feeling the day was going to drag on forever.

Finn was glaring at his eggs while pushing them around his plate. Beside him, Tommy hid behind a newspaper with only a line of smoke to be seen.

The room was tense and you knew neither of the men would say anything first. Stubbornness also ran in the Shelbys.

“Do either of you want to tell what the fuck all the commotion this morning was about?” You snapped sitting in front of your own breakfast.

Finn gave you a glare before starting in,” Yeah Tommy won’t let me go to a football match with me friends. It’s fooking bullshit!”

In return, Tommy put down the paper with a sigh,” You’re not going to Manchester. I’m not discussing this again Finn.”

Both of them looked at you as if you had a say in the matter.

“If Thomas says no the answer is no Finn.” You settled.

“This is complete bollocks. You took me away from me friends in Birmingham and now I’m not allowed to have any friends here either?” Finn screamed standing up from the table.

“We never said you couldn’t have friends Finn. It’s just not the right time to go to Manc-” You tried to calm him down.

“ You’re not me fucking mother you can’t tell me what to do!” He slammed his chair against the table.

“You will not fooking talk too ‘er like that! This is me fooking house and what I say fooking goes.” Tommy said in a cold voice.

The table shook as he slammed his palm down on it, breaking his calm facade.

With that Finn stomped up to his room and Tommy to his office both slamming the door when they arrived.

Waking from a nap you had hoped would help with the sickness you felt you heard silence. You laid in bed for a bit longer feeling tears build up in your eyes. Instead of wallowing, you decided to make peace. You chose to try talking to the youngest first making your way to his room. You knocked on the door.

After waiting to hear a reply or shuffle come from the room you knocked again.

“Fuck off.,” Finn answered.

Ignoring him you opened the door anyway to find him lying on his bed still dressed from this morning. He simply turned away from you to face the wall instead.

You sat on the edge of the bed before trying to talk.

“Finn I know you don’t understand this but Tommy is just trying to keep you safe.” You started.

Finn scoffed and moved closer to the wall.

“I know you don’t know this because you’ve been so busy with school, but we’ve had some trouble in Manchester. There’s a gang up there the Scuttlers, who've been trying to move on us. We can’t protect you there Finn. That’s all it is.” Moving closer you put a hand on his shoulder.

``We're happy you’ve made friends at school really. It’s just one match yeah? You can hang out with them another time.” You tried reasoning.

“Yeah.” He grunted, not moving from his spot.

You decided you would take it before going to deal with the other man child.

You found Tommy sitting in his office chair finishing a drink before pouring another.

“ Who does he think he ‘is eh? Talking to me like that in me own fucking house. I should go up there and-’ Tommy began rambling pointing towards the door you just walked through.

“Tom, it's fine. I talked to him and explained everything. Just give ‘im a week and he’ll forget all about it.”You sat in the chair opposite of him.

Once you said that he seemed to relax a little bit.

“I’m still talking to ‘im later. He will not disrespect me or you like that again.” He told you.

To that, you chuckled, “ He’s a teenage boy Thomas he’s gonna argue. But I agree you should talk to him after you’ve both calmed down.”

Tommy nodded and took another swing of his whiskey. He walked over to where you sat leaning against the desk. To your surprise, he smiled.

“You’d make a good mum you know?” He leaned down to stroke your cheek.

“Yeah about that.” You let out.

[avnkin]

Not What It Seems ( d.m )

Summary: Draco starts spreading rumours about you and you demand to know why.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k ish

Warnings: angst and draco being mean

Author’s Note: here’s my first draco fic!!! i’m currently working on 4 others, one series, two requests and a one shot that i’m 8k words deep into,, please continue sending in requests i love hearing your ideas and writing them out!<3 PSA I wrote this in like an hour so it’s not my best work lmao I just wanted to post something since i’ve been so inactive (not my gif)

You and Draco had always had a sort of rivalry going on between the two of you. Everyday in class he’d throw a snide comment directed your way which you’d send right back with a remark of your own.

Everyone had gotten used it by now the teachers hardly bothering to intervene whenever you two were having one of your ‘arguments’ in class.

It had been a monday when the rumours had started. You’d been walking to your charms class when you noticed the abnormally large crowd of Slytherin girls stop and stare when you walked past, whispering in each other’s ears while they not so subtly pointed at you.

You’d thought nothing of it since most of those girls hated you and made damn sure you knew it so that wasn’t anything new, but the stares and giggles had continued on for the rest of the day and not just from the Slytherin’s but the other houses as well, what the hell was going on?

When you’d finally made it to your last class of the day you’d grown fairly sick of it. Hermione had taken a seat next you which was when you knew something was definitely up since she always sat next to Ron and you to Harry.

She’d given you a worried glance which you’d returned with one of confusion.

“Why is everyone acting so weird?” you finally asked noticing the lingering stares from your fellow classmates who quickly looked away whenever you made eye contact.

“I was actually coming to see if you knew” Hermione had hesitantly replied, shuffling uncomfortably in her seat.

“Knew? knew what” you inquired feeling the tiniest hint of nerves as you watched Hermione bite down on her, lip carefully contemplating her next words.

“There’s been this rumour... about you” Hermione cautioned, it was obvious she didn’t feel comfortable telling you this but you didn’t care continuing to press on her. 

“What rumour?”

“Well it’s just people have been saying that you’ve been- uh sleeping around” she spoke the last part of her sentence quietly as she looked down onto her lap “please don’t think I’m judging you, I would never do that what you do in your own time is entirely your business and no one else’s, it’s just to bad nobody at this school seems to be familiar with the word privacy- but anyways, I just wanted you to hear it from me rather then anybody else”

Your eyes widened at her words and you suddenly became very aware of the students that we’re still staring now knowing what they were thinking made it ten times worse.

“What? why would anyone think that” your voice wavered even though you felt like you knew exactly who had started the rumour, Malfoy.

He’d seen you with a fellow Slytherin boy the other night, you knew that because you’d made very awkward eye contact with the platinum blond once you’d entered they boys dormitories.

It hadn’t been anything like everyone seemed to think, but you couldn’t go telling people that you were sneaking around with a boy who was helping you cheat on your tests.

You hadn’t been doing well in school so you saw no harm in paying someone off to do your homework or work on spells that would enable him to talk to you during tests and tell you the answers. Your family was wealthy which was why you knew they wouldn’t question the missing money.

You figured that Draco had been watching you whenever you’d sneak into the Slytherin common room but decided to keep it to himself until today apparently.

When he walked into the classroom accompanied by his usual entourage, you gave him the deadliest stare you could muster which he only replied too with a wink.

It infuriated you that he’d been spreading such lies about you, who did he think he was? Even if you had been sleeping with the boy it wasn’t his or anyone else’s damn business.

Since the teacher had yet to arrive you angrily stood up stomping towards Draco, wanting to get more than a few things off of your chest.

When you finally stood in front of his desk you slammed both your hands down on the wooden surface causing him to turn towards you leaning back in his chair his signature smirk resting on his lips.

“Anything I can help you with Y/L/N” his voice was smooth, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, asshole.

“You can stop telling lies about me for starters” you chided, rolling your eyes once you heard the ‘oh’s’ from around you, clearly you’d caught the attention of the rest of the class.

“They’re not lies and you know it” he challenged now sitting up fully in his chair.

“Yes they are and why do you even care Malfoy? Are you jealous” that sentence seemed to throw him off as he uncomfortably shifted in his chair his body language changing in mere seconds.

That’s when you realized you’d hit a soft spot, smirking before continuing “oh I get it, that’s it, you’re in love with me aren’t you” you teasingly pouted leaning forward on his desk to rest your chin in your palm smiling innocently up at him.

A bright pink tint appeared on his cheeks as he took in a deep breath giving you a warning glare which you ignored even though you knew you were skating on thin ice.

“Poor Malfoy can’t even get the girl he likes”

That’s when he seemed to snap, quickly getting up pushing the chair from behind him causing it to almost fall to the floor but Zabini’s arm had caught it just in time.

He placed his fingers on the desk in front of him, all embarrassment seeming to fade off of him as he looked you up and down, his signature smirk now back on his lips.

“Believe me Y/L/N, I don’t want you and neither does anyone else so any guy who says he’s interested in you beyond just fucking you is full of shit”

You’d been expecting him to say a lot of things but not that. You stood frozen for a couple of seconds, this was probably the first time you couldn’t come up with anything to say.

His words had cut deep and the chortles from the students around you weren’t helping at all. You felt tears beginning to brim in the corner of your eyes but you didn’t dare let them fall, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt so you just shook your head before heading straight for the exit of the classroom.

“That was a low blow Malfoy, even for you” Hermione glared at him before hurriedly standing up and following you out into the hallway.

Draco didn’t melt into the cheers and laughter of his friends like he usually did, instead he sunk into his seat ignoring everyone around him.

He knew what he’d said wasn’t true but he’d been so blinded by jealousy when he saw you enter another boys dormitory that he’d gone to Blaise and told him that he wouldn’t be surprised if you would have gone through the entire Slytherin house by the end of the term.

He truly didn’t know why he did it and a sudden guilt creeped onto him as flashes off your hurt face lingered in his mind.

Tears were now fully falling down your cheeks, you felt embarrassed and humiliated, he’d given all the students yet another thing to gossip about without a care in the world.

“Y/N!” Hermione’s voice sounded from behind you causing to you quickly stop and turn around gladly accepting the comforting hug she engulfed you in as soon as she reached you.

“He’s full of shit Y/N don’t you dare let someone like him be the cause of your tears. You are so much more than his stupid comments believe me” you nodded letting her wipe away your tears.

You stayed out in the hallway for a couple more minutes but when you saw professor Snape walking past you, you didn’t feel like getting yelled at for being late as well so you and Hermione quickly followed after him.

As soon as you walked into the classroom all eyes were on you but you ignored them keeping your head held high as you walked back to your seat not daring to look over at Draco.

After class had finished you felt much better having spent your time with ‘the golden trio’ letting them cheer you up, your embarrassment long forgotten as the four of you made your way into the Great Hall for dinner.

You’d been walking behind them having been to caught up in your own thoughts when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist pulling you into an empty corner of the hallway along with them.

You let out a yelp as you were pressed against a wall a hand coming up to cover your mouth. You quickly looked up at your assailant only to be met with a pair of grey eyes you weren’t expecting to see, Draco.

“Calm down it’s just me”

You immediately pushed him off of you “Is that supposed to make feel better? God you’re such an arse” you scoffed attempting to walk away from him but he grabbed your arm again pulling you back in front of him.

“Y/N please hear me out” he pleaded, the mention of your first name startling you a bit, not once in all your years at Hogwarts had he called you Y/N.

“Y/N huh, that’s new” you folded your arms over your chest glaring up at him.

He ignored your words as he fiddled with his fingers clearly trying to think of an apology good enough for what he had said earlier.

“Shit, Y/N- I mean Y/L/N, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have said that it was stupid, I-I hope you know I don’t actually think that, It’s just when I saw you with him I got so mad, I don’t know why I-I didn’t mean it-“

“You didn’t mean it? Well that sure as hell didn’t stop you from saying it in front of the entire bloody class” you cut him off now resting your hand on your hip.

“I know, I- I don’t know what to say except that I’m really sorry” he shook his head before he turned to walk away from you, but just as he was about to round the corner you called out after him.

“I’m sorry for what I said as well”

He stopped dead in his tracks before slowly making his way back to stand in front of you, you were now very much aware of how close the two of you were and you almost invontarily backed into the stone wall causing him to take another step towards you.

“Well you weren’t exactly wrong”

“Oh so you were jealous” you teased looking up at the platnium blond who already had his eyes glued on you a small smile resting on his lips

Instead of answering he surged forward pressing you even harder into the wall, his hands wrapping around your waist as his lips connected with yours.

Your eyes widened at his actions as you stood frozen against him which he seemed to notice after a couple of seconds quickly pushing himself off of you.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-” you cut him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to meet your lips again.

He hungrily kissed you back his arms wrapping around your torso before travelling down to your hips pulling you even more into him.

“What on earth is going on here” professor McGonagall’s voice suddenly sounded from beside you causing the two of you to quickly jump away from each other.

“Oh- uhm sorry professor we were just- uhm” you tried to come up with an excuse turning your head towards Draco hoping he would help but he just stood frozen like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Detention, both of you for the next two weeks”

[hannie-dul-set]

PAIRING. huang renjun x fem! reader. GENRE. high school! au, suggestive. WARNINGS. attempted murder, mentions of blood and self injury, veryy descriptive kissing, mc has a few screws lost, swearing, depictions of unstable behavior. WORD COUNT. 1.8k GENRAL TAGLIST. @danishmiilk @wownajaemin @leejunini @astroboy-lele @unknown5tar @yunoyeol @w0nni3wrld @charm-art @bat-shark-repellant @keemburley @deliciouslyyellow​ (pls dm me to be added/removed!)

NOTE. ah yes, the only two genres: murder and making out. inspired by the dream i mentioned earlier. different events, but same vibe HAHA. disclaimer that no matter how much you hate your academic rival, never ever turn to attempted murder! thank you and enjoy

huang renjun— with all his picture perfect smiles, prim and proper tucked in shirts, a pretty face enough to have you on your knees, and with a perfect gpa to top it all off— was someone you wanted.

wanted six feet under the ground.

“hey, congrats!”

speak of the fucking devil.

“you always do really well,” huang renjun towers over you in front of your desk as you sit down. you look up from the wrinkled certificate that have the abhorrent words second honorable mention printed on it's scented surface, only to face his fucking face instead. he beams at you with a smile. you feel convulsions wringing inside your throat. “congratulations again.”

you don't miss the first honor certificate tucked between his books in a measly attempt of concealment. it takes everything in your power to force out something of a smile.

“thanks. you too.”

with that, he quickly scurries away into his seat next to yours with red ears.

your first period teacher enters, beginning class with a greeting, but your mind is elsewhere.

it’s only midterms, you breathe out through your nose, hugging your arms above your desk while sketching out a study plan for the rest of the semester in your head. there’s enough time before graduation. the hold you had on yourself gradually becomes tighter.

still, you know that even if you worked yourself day and night until you bled cold and crimson, huang renjun would still be one step ahead. you bite down your lip, peeling off the dry skin with a sourness writhing in your gut, digging your fingers deeper into your arms. if only he were gone. you leer at the boy diligently taking his notes beside you. if only he were gone gone gone gone—

your eyes widen, ignoring the blood staining your nails.

if only he were gone.

after class, you walk up to his desk and asked if he wanted to work on the physics homework at his place tomorrow. he says yes with starry eyes in a heartbeat.

the next day, renjun couldn’t wait for the final bell to ring. you, too, couldn’t remain in your seat— albeit for a different reason. so when the ringing occurs, the both of you don’t waste a second in finally heading out of the campus.

it’s a silent walk to his place, a standard suburban neighborhood, the sky slowly turning orange in the background. every time you turn your head to look at him, he looks back with a small smile, and you can’t help your hands from twitching at your sides.

renjun unlocks the door and meekly welcomed you inside.

“you can leave your shoes here,” he says, digging his keys into the back pocket of his school slacks with dangling noises. you look at him, smiling, and with a soft hum you leave your school shoes next to his, trailing behind him into the living room.

looking around, you ask him. “are your parents home?” there was an opening that leads to the kitchen, glass doors showing the backyard. the stairs that lead to the second floor are made of sleek, dark oak. it’s a modern interior. they have a fireplace inside.

“no,” he breathes out, wetting his dry throat with a swallow before turning back to face you. “they’re out on business. i don’t think they’ll be home until the weekend.”

the both of you stop right in front of the staircase.

“i see.”

he quickly muffles a cough and leads you up to his room.

the inside of renjun’s room is neat— organized books on the shelf and sheets neatly pressed. There’s a set of candles beside his bed. you hold back a scoff. as expected from the top student.

your eyes flit over from the window above his bed to look at him, instead.

“you don’t have to be so nervous around me, you know,” you muse, dropping down your bag to join him on the floor. worksheets littered with numbers and constants, gravity and acceleration, all scatter on the floor. they blow with the wind knowing that they wouldn’t even be filled in, anyway.

“sorry,” renjun sputters out, loosening his striped necktie with two fingers. his vision is kept trained on the wall behind you. “i’m not— i’m not doing it on purpose.”

you adjust your legs on the floor, skirt riding. “is there a reason?”

“a reason?” he gulped.

“why you can’t look me in the eye.”

renjun thinks he sees the corners of your lips twitching upwards.

“i’ll— i’ll go open the window, it’s a little hot in here, isn’t it?” scrambling to his feet, his knees sink into the navy sheets of his bed, reaching for the window in a nervous flurry to let the air in. “the news said that the temperature’s slowly gonna start rising but i didn’t think it would be—”

he bumps into you when he turned back.

there’s a click from behind him.

the wind stopped coming in.

“it’s not really that hot.”

the way your breath fanned against his lips makes his head spin in circles.

you have an arm out against the glass, your sleeve’s fabric grazing his tempered cheek when you went to shut the window down. renjun feels a ghost in the air where there’s a space in between you. “i— i guess you’re right,” he says, clearing his throat. “i never expected that you’d ask to work together.”

there’s syrup at the end of your sentence. “you seemed pretty happy when i did, though.”

he isn’t sure if it’s just him or if you’re slowly getting closer. “well, that’s— that’s because i—”

“you don’t have to say it.”

your voice digs deep into his bones like chains of velvet. he can feel your chest pressing against him now, crushing the sense of rationality that he was bestowed with from birth and is replaced with a warm lush of rabid, violent waters gushing into bit of him stomach,

it comes off a whisper yet it sends him reeling.

“i know.”

renjun swallows. hard. but he’s afraid you’d hear the manifestations of a tempered restlessness that had managed to crawl its way up to the tips of his fingers— which found themselves resting onto the curve of your back. stray strands of his swair sweeps above his eyes, obscuring the closeness of your face, and he wants to ask how. how did you know that he likes you.

he never got to.

the question doesn’t even get to resurface after the first hit of your cherry flavored chapstick, his bottom lip caught in between yours, teeth grinding against the plush, pink skin. the second hit has his decorum slowly peeling away from his skin when his tongue traces over yours in a hot mess of delirium, when you settle between his legs, a coarse groan vibrating in his throat. the third has him forgetting his own name.

his eyes are hazy when you pull back with a rough smacking of the mouth. with a short-winded voice, you ask him.

“do you mind if i make a call?”

renjun looks at you in a fit of breathlessness.

an airy laugh leaves your lips that he can’t stop staring at. you press a kiss on his nose. “my parents need to know that i won’t be going home tonight.”

dazed, he answers. “y-yeah, sure.”

he blinks a few times before letting you go.

“take your time.”

you send him a smile before fishing your backpack from the floor and leaving the room.

just like that, a switch was flipped.

upon closing the door, you quickly twist the knob, locking it with the keys that you’d snatched from him earlier. it’s convenient that he has each one labelled— a belated thank you to your school’s ever organized golden boy who never fails to make you sick in the stomach.

at each wall you pass, you make sure to seal the windows shut and have all the doors closed. the contents of your bag make steady pangs against your back as you shuttled down the stairs. you lock the back door shut, close all the windows, turn on all the lights, and throw a match into their fireplace, waiting for the fire to come to full bloom. all that’s left is the kitchen.

there’s no time wasted in turning everything on— the microwave, oven, and the stove until you can't crank them any further. embers fly into the air. it’s getting hotter. you duck down to the compartment under the stove to reveal a white painted propane tank, taking out a cordless soldering iron to seal the safety relief valve close. you place a rag over the opening valve and twist it halfway through. a hissing sound whizzes through the air.

with that, you leave through the front door, locking it for good measure. his keys disappear into the bush nearest to their porch.

it’s only a matter of time until huang renjun ceases to be a pest anymore. if not for good, then at least lethally injured.

you head home to finish your physics worksheets that were due tomorrow.

for the first time in god knows how long, you wake up and head to school with a well rested air.

you take your things out of your backpack, humming a soft tune right before the bell rings for your first class. your other seatmate— donghyuck— notices your unusual cheery demeanor, and inquires about its oddities. you simply answer him with an allusion to finally being free. he laughs it off and turns his head to the chalkboard.

five minutes before eight. the doors creak open. you’re ready to stand and greet your teacher until you realize that it isn’t her.

it’s not.

it’s not.

it’s not.

something nauseating knocks into your lungs and stifles your throat, eyes wide and stinging. it squeezes your neck with poison prickling the surface.

huang renjun enters the classroom with his usual nods and smiles to everyone he passes.

“holy shit, dude. you look like hell.”

“i didn’t get any sleep last night,” he laughs, lightheartedly. “guess i’ll have to sleep through recess.”

your teeth grind against your lips, supple skin turning redder at each nip. your nails leave scratches on the desk as you rattle in your seat, thinking, thinking, panicking. each breath feels like choking on pulverized copper in sulfuric air. there’s a ringing in your ears and you hear nothing except your own voice screaming why is he here why is he here why is he here?

he doesn’t go to his desk. he’s standing right in front of you.

“you look well.”

it sears your fingerprints off your skin.

you don’t answer, don’t even look at him. he breaks into a small smile and leans forward, one hand pressed against your desk and the other reaching for a lock of your hair as he nears and nears and nears. “there’s something here,” he says.

there isn’t.

“you left my window unlocked, baby.”

his hot breath hits your cold cheek, tucking a strand behind with a smile. to everyone else, it would look sweet— heart fluttering. to you it was a death sentence. renjun breathes out a contained chuckle into your ear before letting his hand fall on your shoulder, a tight grip at the last second.

“better luck next time.”

© HANNIE-DUL-SET. 2021.

[hqshine]

—Realising their feelings for you—

characters: Nishinoya, Tsukishima, suga

genre: angst to fluff?

type: headcanon

extras: wrote this cause i was in my angst feels guys, it’s raining what a mood. Anyways i’ve already seen all the requests and it’s gonna come slowly sorry ^^ Also i’m thinking about creating a tag list, if you’re interested please drop a message!

The two of you were close friends

both mature yet childish and stubborn at the same time

you’ve always felt differently with suga

sure he was your go to friend for any of your troubles and you’ve shared secrets with him that it almost felt like he was more of a best friend

but your heart always skipped a beat around him

he was always welcome to physical affection

When the team has movie nights, they would invite their unofficial member, you

during movies, suga would hold your hand or hug your waist loosely while you slept on his chest

which always made your heart flutter and you couldn’t even focus on the movie infront of you

but you’ve always known that Suga never felt the same that you did

He’d always tell you about a girl from this other class

She was pretty, smart, mature, reliable, kind

he would say

you’ve always kept quiet about your feelings, even giving him advice when he consulted you about confessing to her

One morning, suga came up to you. “I finally asked her out” he smiled brightly

your smile dropped and your heart raced

we’re you hearing him correctly

yes, you’ve always known that one day he was going to find someone

even her

but you just

didn’t expect it

“She said yes, Y E S y/n. God i’m so happy” suga exclaimed

his smile was the only thing that kept you from breaking down in class

“i’m happy for you Suga, last long” that was the last sentence you said to him

it’s been a few weeks, close to a month now

you knew avoiding him was...immature

but listening to him ramble about her, was gut wrenching

you saw them a few times, walking down the hallway, in her classroom

Suga tried reaching out to you but never did you meet his eyes once in the past few weeks

but recently your phone has been buzzing more than ever

it’s been irritating you and you’ve hardly touched it after suga started dating her

you sighed once more as another notification was sent in, telling you that you missed someone’s call and that they left you a voice mail

you opened up your phone and your eyes widened at all the messages from Suga

you played his most recent recording

“Hey y/n i know we aren’t exactly talking now...well s-she wasn’t exactly honest. I guess to her using me to make her ex jealous was such a great idea. I-i’m sorry that i’m the reason we haven’t been talking much. Ah, i-i also heard from someone about your—your feelings for me and i know this isn’t the best way to tell you, but i’ve been thinking a lot about it. I missed you these past few weeks. A lot. more than you can ever imagine. I missed your smile, your rambles about the lasted mangas you’ve been reading about, your homemade bentos you shared with me, your laugh, everything. You know what this wasn’t a good idea—i bet you won’t even talk to me after this. I’m sorry for not seeing it before, that the girl i really liked. Was you”

Your eyes widened as your phone slipped from your hand

his voice was shaky and it was obvious that he had been crying but, his message was still clear as day

You ran, all the way to his house

“C-come out” you panted into the call

“Y/n—y/n? wha?” suga said as you heard shuffling in the background

he quickly exited, and met with you

Your hair was messy, you were sweating in your hoodie and pajamas pants but you were still gorgeous, how he had never looked at you clearly before he would never understand

Suga immediately wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your shoulder

“I-in your voicemail, is it really true, do you really like me?” you asked him softly, your eyes welling up with tears

Suga looked up from your shoulder and and hugged your cheeks with his palms

“I know, i know it hasn’t been long since i dated her. But please give me a chance, please wait a little longer” he pleaded

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him close

“I will” you whispered

“Kiyoko-senpai, you’re so gorgeous as usual” Nishinoya exclaimed along with Tanaka, both following her around like a puppy

You bit your lip, looking down at your sketchbook instead to distract yourself from the pain

Harbouring feelings for the second year libero hasn’t been easy

Constantly hearing him compliment other girls, comparing yourself, new insecurities

you didn’t understand why you liked him to be very honest

but you were also lying to yourself

His energy, his comfortable vibe, his smile and his eyes made you fall head over heels with Nishinoya

“Y/n-chan, what’re you drawing today?” he shouted, coming up to you

“i’m not sure yet Noya-kun” The two of you were best friends since you two were young

He defended you against middle school bullies and the two of you have been inseparable ever since

You realised your feelings for him after coming into High school

which was when his crush for your senpai began

You had nothing against Kiyoko-senpai, she actually gave you some advice and helped you several times with your homework

but, it wasn’t nice hearing him compliment her, as selfish as it sounded, you wanted on of his compliments to be directed to you

After training, You and Nishinoya walked back home together since the two of you lived near each other

“Yuu?” you asked him as he hummed in reply

Your heart pounded, “c-can i tell you something”

it was now or never you thought.

He nodded and focused on what you were going to say, “I liked you since we entered high school”

Nishinoya’s eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks

you looked down, twiddling with your fingers

“i know you like Kiyoko-senpai, but it was something i just had to tell you because i didn’t want to risk our friendship.” you flashed a fake smile to him

“don’t worry, i never expected you to return my feelings. this won’t change anything, i promise. So, you can still continue to like senpai” you mumbled, feeling the tears pooling at your eyes

The whole time, Nishinoya didn’t say anything

his mouth was agape but he just couldn’t find the right words

you sighed, and walked away not before saying, “Have a nice holiday noya-kun” flashing him a fake smile

he could see your tears and he noticed your smile that was different

Nishinoya stood there, thinking about what you just said.

he closed his eyes and the memory of your tear stained face filled him with guilt

he knew he couldn’t return your feelings but, why did he feel so sad when you said “nothing is going to change”

The break wasn’t very, enjoyable

you worked different part time jobs while Nishinoya attended trainings

the amount of times he let the ball from the opposite team his the ground was uncountable

he could barely focus and he just stared as the ball hit the ground for the tenth time

everyone groaned, noticing how their libero wasn’t paying attention

he had even stopped giving out compliments to the beautiful manager during that time

the only thing on his mind was you

training ended early that day, as they wrapped up and Nishinoya apologised for not doing well

you blew out a breath of smoke as you stared at the christmas tree infront of you

It was huge and reminded you of the joyous occasion that was arriving

Usually, you and Nishinoya would be playing at the park, having snowball fights, making angels and snowmans, and falling sick together later on

You haven’t spoken to him since that day, because of your busy schedule and his trainings

You hid your hands in your pocket, noticing how cold it was

“Y/n” a familiar voice called out to you

You turned around to widen your eyes at the sight of Nishinoya slightly panting and in his training clothes

“N-noya? What’re you doing here, aren’t you cold?” he shook his head

taking out his gloves and reaching for your hand

“You always forget your gloves don’t you, ever since middle school” he slightly laughed at the memories

“i don’t like them, they aren’t comfy” you pouted and looked away

Nishinoya held your hands, “Y/n” you looked back at him

“it hasn’t been the same. Now everyday has been boring, distracting because i keep thinking about you.” he said

“i know i’ve always expressed my ‘love’ for Kiyoko-senpai, but the person that i really love is you” your eyes widen yet again. You shook your head

“No Noya, she’s perfect, good grades, the best looks, reliable, mature, kind? Why would you like me when you have her” you said sadly

“Kind, loyal, fierce, immature, stubborn, adorable, caring, beautiful, intelligent” he began listing

“Y/n, i love you and not because you’re perfect, you have qualities that make you, you. Qualities that i love about you. Most importantly, you’re you. The girl i had a crush on since middle school, since you offered me that star wars bandage after i defended you. I’m sorry for not realising it sooner, but please, let me make it up to you” Nishinoya said

his showed his desperation and his voice expressed his love for you

“of course, and i love you too yuu”

You were always by his side

you’d greet him good morning at the lockers and even sent him home

Tsukishima hated it

he found you annoying

like a leech he can’t get rid of no matter what

you didn’t know how exactly did you fall deeply for the cold beanpole but you certainly liked him a lot

from his honey blonde hair, his taste in music, his intelligence, sassy comments and precious rare smiles

you’ve always tried to get him to notice you, making him bentos, reaching school early to greet him and even following him home after his trainings

one day

“Tsukki, i like you, would you please go out with me?” you confessed to him. Your blush could not get any redder as you bowed

Tsukishima scoffed

“with you? seriously?” your hopes fell as you stood up but looked away

“i would rather date the king rather than you. You’re annoying and if i could get rid of you, i would’ve done it earlier” he spit out

each word stabbing you deep in the heart

he turned around and left

you glanced at the macarons you made for him and the letter that you had written

they were all dinosaur themed, hoping to gain more of his attention

You were crying by then

he really thought you were nothing but someone annoying

From that day on, you hardly spoke to him

Everyday tsukishima would turn up expecting to see your face again, but you were no where to be found

in the beginning, he was satisfied, realising he was able to chase you away. But slowly, he realised how disappointed he felt when he didn’t hear you greeting him and the sight of your adorable smile adorning your face

he realised he finally chased you away

now he walks home alone, whenever he turns around unconsciously you weren’t there, he could only feel your presence in his memories

“Tsukki wait for me!”

“Good morning Tsukki, i made you some cookies today”

Tsukishima sighed as he packed up his books, he was too lazy to buy his food at the cafeteria and you didn’t prepare anything for him so he could only starve till school was over

“Tsukki i heard some boy asked Y/n out” this gained Tsukishima’s attention as Yamaguchi returned from the vending machine with drinks

“i was buying the drinks when i overheard them” yamaguchi said

tsukishima didn’t do anything except for opening his drink

“tsukki you should talk to Y/n” yamaguchi advised. “She hasn’t been herself lately and the whole class feels it too”

Tsukishima took a sip of his drink

“Tsukki, are you okay with some other guy taking care of her?” Yamaguchi questioned him

that was what made tsukishima put down his drink

jealousy was all he felt

he didn’t like the thought of someone else making you smile, making you laugh. What if you left forever? for another guy?

Tsukishima immediately left to find you and dragged you away from the guy

“what are yo-?” you exclaimed as tsukishima slammed you against the lockers and placing his hand next to the locker beside you

“i take it back” he said

You were confused, “i missed you, i realised my true feelings when i didn’t have you. I need you, please give me a chance. i like you Y/n” he says

you smiled as you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him

“One chance”

[honeypiehotchner]

winter love (all i want for Christmas is you) -- Hotch x Fem!Reader

Hi hi hi!! I have literally been writing this on and off since September, and now I finally get to share it!! A few quick things: this fic has very much Hallmark vibes but does have a good dose of angst too; for the sake of this fic, Aaron was born and raised in Virginia; and Jack was never born (sorry buddy!).

I listened to Michael Bubl��’s songs “All I Want for Christmas Is You” and “Cold December Night” a lot while writing this, so feel free to play those while you read! xx.

(The gif is from google because once again, my gif search is broken on here because apparently this post is too long?? Rip me)

Summary: You’ve returned back to your hometown after leaving to get your education, but you didn’t expect to run into your childhood best friend (and first love). 

Word count: 9.4k

HOTCH MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

If you told yourself a few months ago that you’d be moving back to Virginia, you would’ve scoffed and probably laughed -- loudly. Your mom, on the other hand, would’ve been elated, and swore she knew it.

Like she’s doing now.

“I’m just so excited to have you home again,” she gushes, helping you carry boxes of your clothes up to your old childhood room.

The room needs some work, like taking down all these embarrassing posters and changing the sheets to something not so cringe-worthy (thankfully, it’s a full-size bed instead of the old twin you grew up sleeping on). But it’ll be fine for the time being. It’s not like you’re going to find an apartment right before Christmas, or that you even want to. It’s been a while since you’ve spent a full Christmas season with your mom.

You’ve been studying out of state for the past six years, working to get your masters and doctorate degrees — which you’ve completed. But now you need a job and a new start, which is why you decided to come home.

You’ve missed Virginia a lot more than you’ll admit. It’s hard not to miss your hometown when you’re gone from it for so long.

“We need a Christmas tree,” you say, as you come back down the stairs. “Christmas is next week, how do you not have a tree up yet?”

“I wasn’t going to get one without you,” your mom says like the fact should’ve been obvious to you.

You laugh as you plop down next to her on the couch. “I know. We should go tomorrow.”

“Whenever you want to,” she smiles, squeezing your arm. “Have you been to your coffee shop yet?”

“My coffee shop?” You raise an eyebrow. “Since when has it been mine?”

“Since you practically lived there during high school,” your mom counters.

She has a point. “Well, no, I haven’t. I just got here.”

“You should go.”

You raise both eyebrows this time, turning your entire body to face her. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you trying to get me to go back there?”

“Why don’t you want to?”

You give her a look. “You know why.”

“I don’t.”

She does. She knows exactly what happened there.

“I’m not repeating it,” you mutter. “And I’ll be finding a new coffee shop, thank you very much.”

“Oh, you can’t let one bad experience stop you from going there!”

“So you do remember!”

“How could I forget? When you were a wreck for months after. I still never forgave him for that, you know.”

You shake your head, settling back against the couch pillows. “It’s been long enough now that I think forgiveness won’t hurt anyone.”

You say that, and yet you don’t want to step foot in that shop ever again.

+++

It was the summer before your junior year. Aaron was a rising senior, so there was the weight of it being his last year already hanging in the air. Especially when he was already looking at a pre-law track for college — meaning he’d be insanely busy after graduation with not much time for you.

Unfortunately, you didn’t realize that his being too busy for you would start before then.

You were a year younger — technically almost two, but the way your birthday fell, you were only one grade younger — but that didn’t stop Aaron from being your friend. At first you thought he had ill intentions (as most older boys in high school did), but he didn’t. He genuinely enjoyed your company, and you genuinely enjoyed his.

More than genuinely. You say now that you don’t believe in love at first sight, but you know that’s because it already happened for you, and you believe it to be a one-time deal.

That one time was when Aaron sat across from you at the lunch table.

You were alone and reading a book. You were a freshman then, and being an extra year younger didn’t exactly help in the whole making friends department. Especially when a lot of your peers were already aware of your age.

But Aaron wasn’t aware, nor did he even care.

He saw that you were alone, and reading, and he decided to sit with you. He wanted to read too, anyway, but he knew he didn’t always like being alone when he read. Something told him you were the same way.

He was correct.

It took almost the entire fall semester before either of you said one word to each other. Sometimes you’d be too engrossed in the book you were reading to even notice he’d sat down in front of you. And when you would finally notice, he would be the one with his nose too deep in the book to notice.

But eventually, you started sharing book recommendations.

Which eventually turned into helping each other with homework. You were always better at math and Spanish than he was (you were already in the sophomore levels of these classes as a freshman), but he was always good with history and English. He must’ve noticed you were in freshman English and history, but he never commented on it — at least not in a way that said he was bullying you.

That winter break was when you started going to the coffee shop together. It was within walking distance of the high school, so the two of you would go at the end of the day until your parents could pick you up. Sometimes your mom would drive him home, or vice versa.

And when Aaron got his license, he’d drive you both there and drop you off at home.

The two of you were inseparable. Almost literally.

Until Aaron met Haley.

Haley was in theatre. She was everything you weren’t. Aaron’s age, pretty, funny, outgoing, and worst of all: popular.

You watched your best friend fall in love.

And that wouldn’t have hurt as bad as it did if it wasn’t Haley he was falling for.

You kept your feelings for Aaron quiet, even to your mom — though you found out later that she always knew. You had almost thought he felt the same, or that he might be beginning to, and then suddenly he was talking about some girl named Haley.

Only she wasn’t just “some girl” to him, or even to you. Everyone knew Haley Brooks.

Slowly, your lunch table conversations were less about what the two of you were going to do the coming weekend, and more about Haley. How he was going to get her to notice him (join theatre, even though he never liked theatre before her). How he was going to ask her on a date (it wouldn’t be a date at first, just dinner after theatre rehearsal, that ended up being with the entire cast, but he sat next to her). How he was going to win her over (he brought flowers to the first performance and surprised her backstage). How he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend (that was the same night as the flowers, completely unplanned, but she said yes).

How he thought he might want to marry her one day.

The last hurt most of all. He confessed it to you one night out of the blue as he was driving you home after school. You knew you could handle him being in love with someone else. Some sick part of you knew — or hoped, rather — that the relationship wouldn’t last. What high school relationship lasts longer than a few months, anyway?

But when Aaron fell for Haley, he fell completely. And hard.

He started cancelling plans with you to spend time with Haley — before they were even dating. When they were dating, he stopped making plans with you altogether.

Then came the summer before his senior year.

It had been months since you saw him last. You had a new lunch period the second half of the year because one of your favorite teachers asked for help during the period, which meant you didn’t have lunch with Aaron — but you don’t even think he noticed.

June came and went. The two of you barely saw one another, barely talked when you did. But when you did, you clung to those moments like they were your only lifeline. In a way, they were.

July finally came and he actually made plans to see you. He said he wanted to get coffee again, catch up, hang out for a few hours, sit in silence, even, whatever you wanted. You were excited.

Some part of you thought that he had broken up with Haley — wishful thinking, but you were sixteen and in love, what else were you supposed to think?

But he hadn’t broken up with her. They were very much in love. You know. You witnessed it.

Apparently, Haley didn’t like the idea of Aaron getting coffee and lunch alone with a female friend. So, she took it upon herself to tag along.

You saw them sharing a kiss through the window, Aaron’s back facing you. When they pulled away, Haley’s eyes caught yours, but she said nothing to Aaron, just pulled him back in for another kiss.

You didn’t go into the shop that day. And you haven’t since.

The last time you saw Aaron was the day before he moved to college. He was stopping by to say goodbye to you.

You were reading a book in your room, and your eyes caught the movement on the driveway. You told your mom to say you weren’t home.

You watched him leave from your bedroom window, hands stuffed in his pockets.

+++

You heard that Aaron and Haley got married. Not because you wanted to hear, but because your mom told you. She probably meant well, but you drank an entire bottle of wine that night. You weren’t even 21 yet at the time.

Of course, it’s been years since then. You’re all fine now, and you’ve got the student loan debt to prove it.

But even with three degrees, job hunting can be a bitch. Especially this time of year.

You need coffee.

You blame the fact that this coffee shop is the best one around. And the fact that it’s Christmas season, meaning they have your favorite drink again.  

Dark chocolate peppermint mocha. It’s a godsend. And you haven’t had one in years.

Well, you have. But they haven’t been from here. They haven’t had this shop’s specially made peppermint whipped cream, or the peppermint stick that can be used to stir.

You hate how much you have to psych yourself up before you walk inside. You don’t even know where Aaron is these days or what he’s doing. He could be halfway across the country for all you know.

So, with that fact in mind, you walk inside. You embrace the familiar sight and smells, remembering what it felt like the last time you were here.

You move toward the counter, falling in the short line to the register. And your stomach flips when you see a familiar face standing in front of you.

Well, his back is facing you, so you don’t see his face, but you know it’s him. There’s this thing about first loves. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time you’ve seen them. You’ll always recognize everything about them. The back of their head, their shoulders, their hands, the way they walk.

Their voice. Even if it’s deeper than the last time you heard it.

Maybe he won’t recognize me.

But what you don’t know is that no amount of time could pass to make you unrecognizable to Aaron.

Or that he saw your reflection in the glass case next to him when you got in line, and he’s been internally trying to figure out what the hell to say to you since.

If it hadn’t been for his voice, you wouldn’t have recognized Aaron at all. A black coffee? That’s it?

The barista pours it and slides it over to him before he’s even done paying. He’s at a coffee shop -- this coffee shop, and he orders a black coffee?

Who is he?

You step up to the register as he steps away, and you swear you see him looking at you through the corner of your eyes. But you must be seeing things because why would he do that?

You focus on ordering -- a medium peppermint mocha, complete with the whipped cream and peppermint stick. After paying, you step to the side to wait for your coffee.

You nearly knock right into Aaron, but you stop yourself, well aware of his presence.

Another thing about first loves: you’re always painfully aware of their presence.

“Hi,” he says, awkward and fumbling even though it’s only one word. He’s wearing a stuffy suit and tie, which seems odd, but you’re positive that’s just normal lawyer attire. He probably lives in a suit these days. His hair is shorter than it used to be and he looks older, but so do you. Despite all of this, he’s still Aaron. He’s still the same Aaron Hotchner you fell in love with at sixteen.

“Hi,” you return the awkward smile, tugging on the strap of your purse. After a beat, you nod toward his drink. “Black coffee, huh?” You try to tease. “Who hurt you?”

He laughs loudly then, shoulders and head shaking. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Hotchner,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself.

The conversation dies for a moment, so you busy yourself by looking at the different cakes and pastries in the glass case. You probably should’ve gotten one, but maybe another time.

Another time. Fifteen minutes ago you wouldn’t be caught dead in this shop and now you’re already thinking about another time.

“Are you busy?” Aaron suddenly asks, prompting you to look at him with furrowed brows. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” you smile gently, knowing you might regret this later. But it’s been over a decade since you’ve seen him last. One coffee won’t hurt.

And I’m over him, you remind yourself, no matter how untrue it might be.

Once you have your peppermint mocha -- finally, you think, it’s been too long -- you walk with Aaron to find a table. A lot has changed about this shop, but one thing that hasn’t (because there isn’t much that can be changed) is the seating.

Aaron leads you to your old table. The table the two of you practically lived at.

It makes your heart warm and ache all at once. The drink you decided to order isn’t helping matters either.

“So…” You pause, shifting in your seat. “What are you up to these days?”

“You stole my question,” he jokes.

“Tough,” you smile into your drink. “I asked it first.”

He chuckles, but answers anyway. “I’m working for the BAU now.”

“The B-A-What?”

“The-- FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you… Did you really just say you’re working for the FBI?”

“I think so,” he says. “I’m the unit chief.”

“You’re the-- Okay. So, you don’t work for the...the BAU, they work for you.”

“We’re a team,” he offers.

“Said every boss ever,” you quip, taking a long drink of your mocha. You take the peppermint stick in between your fingers and stir, eyebrows furrowing down at the swirl of coffee and whipped cream. “So...what do you do exactly?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then stops, hesitating. “Do you really want to know?”

You give him a look. “Of course I do.”

“It’s not great.”

“Aaron, just tell me, or I’ll start reciting my dissertation word for word.” Your statement stuns him to silence, so badly that you almost laugh. “That’s boring. Working for the FBI can’t possibly be boring.”

“Oh, it’s never boring, that’s for sure,” he mutters. “We profile serial killers.”

“You what?”

He laughs. “We look at their behaviors and crimes and build a profile, what they might look like, their age, that stuff.”

“Intriguing.”

“I can’t believe you’re interested.”

“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t be,” you counter. “You know I thrive off this stuff.”

“I remember,” he says quietly.

And just like that, you remember, too.

It’s so easy to forget about all the hurt he caused, all the pain he left behind. Especially because you know he never intended to hurt you. He would never do that, not to you, not on purpose. You never told him how you felt. It’s not his fault he couldn’t read your mind.

“Well, you’ve got a doctorate,” he says, shifting the conversation. “What else are you up to?”

“How did you know it’s a doctorate?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you profiling me? Did I use that correctly?”

“Yes,” he smiles. “And no, not intentionally. You said you’d recite your dissertation. Those are normally written to get doctorate degrees. You always wanted one, I assumed you met your goal.”

“You assume correct,” you nod. “I’m back to start job and apartment hunting, but after the new year. I wanted to spend some time with my mom.”

“How is she doing?”

“She’s good, she--” You pause, shaking your head with a laugh. “She actually brought you up yesterday.”

“Me?” Aaron looks genuinely shocked.

“Yeah, you,” you knock your foot against his leg without thinking, but you pay no mind, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to it. “She’s actually the one who put the bug in my ear to come here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been back here since…”

It takes him a moment, but he nods slowly. “Right.”

“Yeah,” you draw your legs closer to you on instinct. “But that was a long time ago. How are you and Haley?”

You don’t expect the way his face falls. You glance down at his left hand. No ring.

“We got a divorce a few years ago, split up about a good year before that,” Aaron explains. “She’s good, last I heard. Remarried already.”

“Wow,” you murmur, not knowing what else to say. “What-- I mean, what happened?” When he hesitates, you backpedal. “Sorry, I shouldn’t even ask, it’s probably a sensitive question.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron chuckles. “I don’t mind talking about it with you.”

That sends a dangerous flutter through your stomach. “Okay. Well I’m all ears.”

“Oh, it’s not a long story, it was just my job,” he shrugs. “I took the unit chief position and she was happy at first. But then, there was a period of time where we had what felt like case after case after case.” He shakes his head. “I was barely home, but I was barely in one state for long, anyway. It was a stressful time. We were everywhere at once.”

“That does sound stressful,” you frown. “Has it slowed down now?”

“Kind of, it has its moments,” he admits. “But being gone so much, it took a toll on her. She wanted to start a family, but said she couldn’t do that if I was never there.”

“But I mean she had to have known how your schedule would be with the new job, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, then shrugs. “It’s been so long now that I stopped trying to understand her thought process.”

“I get that,” you say sincerely. You understand not wanting to waste energy on something like that anymore. Sometimes you just have to give it up and have peace with the fact that you’ll never understand.

“What about you?” He asks suddenly, catching you off guard. “Seeing anyone?” He adds it quietly, like he’s shy.

Aaron Hotchner. Shy. Around you.

“Oh,” you nearly laugh at the prospect. “No. No, I’m not. Do you really think I would be if I was moving back in with my mom?”

He laughs, bringing his coffee to his lips. “You have a point there.”

A comforting silence settles over the two of you after that.

You shouldn’t feel slightly giddy that his and Haley’s relationship didn’t work out in the end. You’re over him by now, anyway. But something about being right has you fighting a smile. You smother the urge, though, knowing he probably doesn’t want to hear anyone, let alone you, say, “I told you so.”

You do feel bad for him, genuinely. Divorce is never easy for anyone, and you hate he went through that. Especially like that. Haley knew his work schedule would change. Why would she act supportive if she knew this in advance? Just sits uneasy with you, that’s all.

Of course, you feel that overprotective-best-friend nature coming back to you.

“What plans do you have now that you’re back?” He asks, keeping the conversation up, but you can tell he’s earnest — which makes you smile.

“Nothing, really. My mom and I are getting a Christmas tree later, but that’s all I have on my schedule.” You pause, giving him another look. “We both know you were my only friend in high school. Who do you think I’m going to see while I’m here?”

“Hopefully a lot of me,” he replies easily, smiling around his coffee.

And for once, you don’t hesitate to reply. “I hope so, too, actually. I didn’t think you were still around here. And I really didn’t expect you to be working for the FBI.”

“This might be presumptuous of me, but what are you doing this weekend?” He asks, quickly adding on, “A good friend of mine is hosting a Christmas party for the team, and I’ve basically been threatened to bring a plus one.”

“Threatened, huh?” You raise an eyebrow.

He nods seriously. “They won’t let me inside without one.”

You gasp comically, keeping up the act. “Well you can’t miss the party!”

“I know,” he sighs, propping his head in his hand.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to come with,” you say, still deadly serious.

But Aaron’s lips split into a grin the same time yours does. “It’s this Saturday.”

“Lucky for you, I’m free.”

He doesn’t stop grinning. “I can pick you up, if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you say. “I should probably give you my number, shouldn’t I?”

“I was going to ask,” he admits.

You roll your eyes playfully. “I figured.”

After exchanging numbers, the two of you return to your idle conversations. Only, they’re less idle than they ever have been before.

He vents about still not understanding how people can be capable of the things he sees. How he knows that everyone is capable of unspeakable things, but it’s how they do it that still makes him stumble sometimes. And you try to sympathize, though you know you can’t. But still you tell him not to try to understand.

“You’re a good man,” you say. “You’re not going to understand it because you’re not like them.”

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know that, consciously. Sometimes it’s good to hear it from someone else.”

Then he tells you it’s your turn, and again, you don’t feel the need to hesitate.

You tell him how you weren’t planning on moving back here at all. But the job market where you were didn’t...fit you, for some reason. You never felt like you belonged, and so maybe that’s why you wanted to come back here.

Because even though you left this place heartbroken, you still felt like you belonged when you were here. You felt like you belonged when you were with him, but you don’t tell him that.

Something tells you he heard it anyway, though. Being a profiler and all. Which you still don’t quite understand, but you’re sure he’ll have plenty of time to tell you in the coming future.

+++

After an hour or two, you decide it’s time for you to head back home. Partly because you need to make some lunch for yourself, and partly because you’ve watched Aaron dismiss at least three phone calls in the last twenty minutes.

But he didn’t say a word each time, so you know he won’t tell you who it is or if he needs to go. It makes your heart warm at the thought that he wants to spend more time with you, but if it’s his job, then he needs to go.

He walks you to your car and you hug him around his neck, unashamedly taking a deep breath of his cologne when you stretch up to wrap your arms around him. He didn’t wear cologne back in high school. But this one smells good.

You mentally prepare yourself on the way home for the amount of questions your mom is no doubt going to ask.

You’re supposed to be going to pick out a tree with her today, which means you were supposed to be home a little earlier than this, which means your mom probably already knows what happened and you won’t even get a chance to explain yourself.

In the end, your prediction was correct.

“How was your peppermint mocha?” You glance over to the couch and find your mom sitting there, idly reading a book.

The question is as directly indirect as they come. You raise an eyebrow and kick the front door closed (yes, she asked before you even stepped foot inside the house). “It was good,” you reply, shrugging your jacket off your shoulders. “Why?”

“Oh, you enjoyed it for almost two hours, so I was just wondering.” Your mom fights back a grin, but she’s not doing a very good job.

You sigh. “Just go ahead and ask.”

She closes her book. “Alright, fine, I will. How is Aaron?”

There it is.

“He’s good,” you answer rather pointedly, making your way into the living room. “He’s working for the FBI now.”

“Oh, I knew that already.”

You plop down next to her on the couch. “Seriously?”

“Of course!” She cries, like it should be obvious. “Small talk happens when you see someone in the store.”

“Right,” you scoff. “Anyway, thanks for not telling me him and Haley divorced.”

She grimaces.

“Yeah, exactly,” you nod at her expression. “That’s how I felt. I bet it was just awesome of me to ask about how him and his ex-wife are doing.”

“I’m sorry,” your mom says. “It completely slipped my mind. It’s been so long since those two split.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

“Because I didn’t want to bring him up,” she answers sincerely. “You seemed like you had really moved on. I figured it didn’t matter, and I didn’t want to make you start thinking about him again when you had finally gotten over it all.”

“Oh,” you murmur. “Well, thank you, then, but...still. I feel like an idiot.”

“Did he seem angry when you asked?”

“No, the opposite,” you sigh. “He explained what happened and I let him talk about it for a second, but he seems mostly moved on from it.”

“I don’t know how he can be,” your mom scoffs. “She’s already remarried, you know.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

Your mom shakes her head. “I should’ve shook some sense into that boy when he came to say goodbye that day.” Then she pauses, poking your leg. “And I should’ve made you say goodbye to him. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“I didn’t wanna talk to him,” you shrug. “We barely had all year, anyway. And one goodbye would not have stopped him from going to college and marrying Haley, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighs. “It’s fun to think about, though.”

“Well stop thinking about it,” you mutter. “We are friends and he’s probably seeing someone by now. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here, so.”

Your mom raises her eyebrows. “I never said anything about what you guys are now.”

Damn. Caught. “I know, but I’m just...catching you before you do.”

“Mmm, more like catching yourself.”

“Shut up.”

She lightly hits you with a pillow. “Don’t say that to your mother,” she jokes. “Especially not when I’m right and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Are you ready to pick out a tree?”

“Of course,” she replies. “Just let me find my shoes.”

While she’s getting ready -- because “finding her shoes” really means fixing her hair and makeup and changing outfits a couple times -- you get a text from Aaron.

Aaron: It was nice catching up with you today

You smile and type your reply. Ditto. We should do it again sometime.

He doesn’t reply, but you figure he’s busy at work, anyway. And you’ve got a tree to pick out and decorate, so you’re technically busy, too.

You try not to think too much about it.

+++

And truthfully, you don’t think much about it, until Aaron finally replies. It’s hours later when you’re decorating the freshly-cut Christmas tree in the living room, with Michael Bublé’s Christmas album playing through the stereo speakers. It’s just like when you were younger.

You check your phone and see that it’s Aaron texting you back, but you pocket it before reading the message. You’re busy.

Your mom notices the change on your face. “Everything alright?” She asks as she places a snowflake ornament on one of the smaller branches.

You nod without thinking, hating yourself for even feeling what you’re feeling right now. A glittery red ornament hangs from your index finger as you try to find the right branch to hang it on -- and while your mind wanders all over the place.

“Clearly not,” your mom replies. “But alright.” She turns and reaches into a different box, picking up one of the golden jingle bells that she always hides deep within the tree each year. When you were younger, she’d hide them without you seeing, and then on Christmas Eve you’d have to search the tree for them before you could open one present before going to sleep.

You snort a laugh, always loving her way of getting you to open up: sarcasm. “It’s just Aaron.”

“Aaron?”

“Texting me,” you explain, looking down at the glitter coating your fingertips from the ornaments.

“Aren’t you going to reply?” She asks, grabbing another jingle bell.

“Technically he’s the one replying from earlier today.”

“Okay…”

You sigh. Time to cave. “He invited me to a Christmas party this weekend.”

Your mom doesn’t even try to hide her excitement or her wide grin. “Really? That’s great!”

Is it? You want to ask, but you stop yourself. “Yeah,” you shrug. “I guess so. It’ll be nice to hang out with him more.” You pause, finally hanging the small glittery red ornament on the tree that you’ve been idly holding for the past two minutes. “Apparently a friend of his is hosting it and basically told him he wouldn’t be allowed inside without a plus one.” You chuckle quietly, knowing Aaron had to have rolled his eyes when his friend told him that.

“So it’s...a date, then?”

“What? No,” you shake your head. “No, no. Not a date. He didn’t phrase it that way.”

“Sweetheart, plus one implies date.”

“Who says?”

“Everyone!” Your mom laughs. “Bringing a plus one to a wedding is usually a casual date, if not bringing your significant other along.”

“This isn’t a wedding, it’s just a Christmas get together.”

“Same difference.”

“Well, I think you’re doing that thing again where you try to plant seeds in my brain for things that are unnecessary,” you raise an eyebrow at her when she avoids eye contact, so you know you’ve caught her red-handed. “All that aside,” you sigh. “I’m over him. It’s been so long. If something was going to happen, it would have already.”

“Whatever you say,” she shrugs indifferently, grabbing the final jingle bell to hide in the top of the tree. For a brief moment, you wish you hadn’t been watching where she hid them, so you could do the search on Christmas Eve one more time.

+++

You bump into Aaron one more time, two days later, at the same coffee shop.

“Back for more?” He teases as he slides into the seat across from you, another black coffee in his right hand.

You’re sitting at the table the two of you call home with yet another peppermint mocha sitting in front of you and your laptop. More job hunting is the task for today, even though you’re ready to give up and just pick it back up after the New Year. It’s not like your mom is making you pay rent, and you have enough in savings to help with groceries (without her knowledge, of course, because she refuses to let you pay for anything) and buy your own coffees. But, you decided to give it one last go today.

That is, until Aaron slid into the seat in front of you. Now, you close your laptop and place it back in your bag. “Just needed some fuel for more job hunting,” you grin. “What are you doing here?”

“I took off for lunch for once and thought I might find you here.”

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows. “Were you seeking me out, Hotchner?”

“Maybe a little,” he admits with a shy smile. “Are you still good for tomorrow?”

“As long as you are,” you nod. “What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at five, if that’s good?”

“Perfect,” you smile. “Are you ready to introduce me to your friends?”

“Depends,” he exhales exasperatedly. “Are you ready to meet them?”

“They can’t be that bad.”

“They might be. If you aren’t used to them.” He pauses. “They don’t know you’re coming, by the way.”

“What?” You almost laugh. “Why not?”

“I told them I was bringing someone, but I didn’t feel like hearing it all week about who I was bringing.” He pauses again, like he’s holding something back, and then he lets it out. “They know all about you.”

You blink. “They do?”

“Yeah,” he smiles gently. “I talk about you all the time.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No you don’t. There’s no way.”

“You’ll believe it tomorrow,” he chuckles. “I’m sure they’ll try to embarrass me.”

“I-I mean...what do you even say about me?”

He shrugs. “That you were my best friend in high school and...that I missed you and wondered what you were up to these days, and how we used to hang out here.” He looks around the shop, then back to you and your bewildered expression. “What?” He laughs. “You didn’t talk to your friends about me?”

“No, I did,” you laugh quietly. But I said different things. And most of the time I was crying because I missed you, especially my first year of college when my roommate tried to get me to go on a double date with her boyfriend and his roommate, but I refused and had to confess that I wasn’t over you and that you broke my heart, and I was such a mess that she brought ice cream and chocolate back after their date.

But you don’t say any of that. Obviously.

“I just didn’t expect you to even...think about me, I guess,” you finally spit out, still shaking your head. “I mean...we haven’t talked since high school, I figured you’d forgotten or moved on, at least. Especially since you had Haley.”

Aaron’s expression softens and turns sad, quickly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you thought any of that.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you wave his worry away. “It’s years ago. Water under the bridge.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. Then, he says, “Haley was jealous of you, you know.”

You immediately look up from your mocha, your eyes wide in shock. “She was what?”

“Oh yeah,” Aaron laughs. “Devastatingly jealous of you. She swore we were dating or that I was in love with you or something.”

Or something. “Wow,” you chuckle, trying to mask your hurt as much as possible. “Why did she even think that?”

You know why. You know exactly why. Because before her, you and Aaron were attached at the hip. You sat together during lunch, walked each other home, hung out at the coffee shop, went to school functions together (well, you’d actually go with a big group, but you two always ended up together anyway), and so on and so forth. Anyone would’ve been an idiot to not assume you two were dating.

“We were so close,” he shrugs. “She said she was so surprised when I asked her to be my girlfriend because she swore I was dating you. She actually asked me that, when I gave her the flowers. She said, “What about Y/N?” And I said, “Y/N? She’s just my best friend.” And she didn’t believe me.”

“That’s so crazy,” you say, but you’re really thinking back to that day you and Aaron had decided to meet up here and hang out after so long. When Haley crashed the hangout. When she locked eyes with you and smirked before pulling him back in for another kiss.

She was jealous. She was jealous and she knew exactly what she was doing that day.

Aaron’s phone starts ringing and he sighs heavily, pulling it out. He almost declines it, but then stops himself. “It’s the boss,” he says. “My boss. I’ve gotta take this. I’ll text you later?”

“Sure,” you smile, knowing he might forget or get too busy to think about it. But that’s okay. “Good luck with the phone call.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I’ll need it.” And then he brings his phone up to his ear. “Agent Hotchner,” he says, and you hate that you find it so hot.

+++

You almost cancel with Aaron a dozen times before 2p.m.

You blame the conversation the two of you had yesterday. For some reason, the thought of Haley being jealous of you had never crossed your mind. Because to you, it was so obviously the other way around. Of course, you weren’t vocal about your jealousy, but you were certain she knew. Not that it was the other way around.

Old feelings have already resurfaced, which is bad enough, but the talk about Haley and about how Aaron’s friends know all about you made things worse. Especially the latter.

Why would he talk about you so much if the two of you hadn’t spoken in years? Not even years, but like an entire decade. Why would he still talk about you and think about you that much?

You have dwelled over those questions since he left the coffee shop yesterday.

But now, you have no idea what to wear, and Aaron will be here any minute. You’re assuming the attire is casual, not fancy, since it’s just a get together with his friends -- who all happen to be his team of agents. FBI agents. Because he’s just casually the Unit Chief of the BAU.

It still baffles you. He wanted to be a lawyer. Not in the FBI. God.

He’s still your Aaron. That’s what shocks you the most. He’s experienced law school, marriage, practicing law, working for the FBI, becoming a Unit Chief, divorce, and yet he’s still the Aaron Hotchner you were best friends with in high school.

You wonder if you’re still the girl he was best friends with in high school. Or if you’ve changed so drastically that he doesn’t see you that way anymore.

You take a deep breath, going back to digging through the many boxes of clothes that you have yet to unpack. You need a sweater or something. That’s safe enough, right? It’s too cold for a dress, and frankly, you’re not in the mood for wearing one, anyway.

Finally, you find the sweater you were looking for. You tug it over your head, figuring your jeans are fine enough. You’ll wear some low heels to make it look like you put in a little more effort.

Your quick thinking is to your benefit because the doorbell rings almost as soon as you’re done doing the clasp on your second heel.

But because your mom is quicker than you, she’s already opened the door and let Aaron in before you can make it downstairs. And by the time you are coming down the stairs, Aaron is sitting on the couch with your mom, making idle conversation.

“Hey,” you smile at him, resisting the urge to glare at your mom. “Ready?”

“If you are,” he nods, standing to his feet.

When he turns, you shoot your mom a look. “We’ll be back later.”

“You’re not in high school,” your mom laughs. “You two have fun for as long as you like.”

“I know,” you say. “But I also know you’ll wait up until I get back.”

“And you can’t stop me,” she replies pointedly.

Aaron laughs at the two of you, your banter just as he remembers from all those years ago. Neither of you have changed one bit.

After a final moment of bickering, you bid your mom goodbye and leave with Aaron.

In the car, you ask, “Have you told them about me coming yet?”

From the driver’s seat, he shakes his head. “No, so prepare yourself for a lot of questions.”

“I think you’re the one that’ll be in hot water, but alright,” you chuckle. “I can hear them now. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing her!’”

He laughs loudly. “That’s not a bad impression, actually.”

“Why, thank you,” you smirk. “It’s a hidden talent of mine.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm.”

The two of you share a grin as he keeps driving.

+++

After some time -- long enough that you were beginning to wonder where he’s taking you -- Aaron finally turns into a subdivision. But it’s still not what you were expecting.

You assumed FBI agents must make good money, but not this good. This is a mansion. It’s massive. There has to be at least six bedrooms in there, maybe more.

“Is your friend a millionaire or something?”

Aaron chuckles, “Maybe. Probably. Maybe more.”

“More?” Your eyes widen. “Wow.” And then Aaron pulls into the driveway. “Wow.”

He puts the car in park and says, “Try not to look too surprised. Dave won’t shut up about the house if you get him started.”

“What if I want to hear everything?” You ask, scrambling out of the car to look up at the house. “Jesus Christ.” Then you whip your head around to look at Aaron exasperatedly. “Does your house look like this?”

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “No. This is too big. Dave’s crazy for buying it.”

“He’s definitely insane,” you nod. “I mean, what do you even need a house this big for?”

Aaron shrugs. “Christmas parties, I guess.” He pauses, holding out his arm for you. “Ready to face the lions?”

You roll your eyes through a laugh, loosely holding onto his arm. “Quit being so dramatic. I bet it’ll be just fine.”

“Let’s hope so,” Aaron replies. Because truthfully, he is a little worried that they might scare you off. They have a habit of doing that.

The two of you walk up to the front door, and you try your best to act like you’ve been in the general vicinity of a house this big before. Dave must be a really good friend of Aaron’s, because instead of knocking or ringing the doorbell, Aaron twists the doorknob and walks right in with you on his arm.

“Dave’s making pasta,” Aaron whispers, smelling the air. He shuts the door gently, wanting to surprise the team as much as possible.

You sniff the air, too, smiling happily. “Smells really good. Is that carbonara?”

“Good nose,” a voice says from the kitchen.

“That’s Dave,” Aaron chuckles, walking you down the hall toward the smell.

The team’s eyes all widen dramatically and comically when Aaron Hotchner steps inside the kitchen with a woman on his arm.

“Well, hello,” one of them says, sliding off the stool at the counter to saunter over to you. He’s all suave and swagger.

“Derek Morgan, this is Y/N,” Aaron introduces you quickly, knowing the reaction your name will get.

“Hold up,” Derek pauses, glancing between you and Aaron. “Y/N? As in the Y/N?”

“I don’t know about being the Y/N, but that is my name,” you laugh. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Derek says, a hand over his heart to add to the sincerity. “Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“Getting a doctorate,” you shrug, only now realizing that your hand is still holding onto Aaron’s arm, but he doesn’t seem fazed by it either, so you don’t move.

“Oh, alright,” Derek chuckles. “Hey Reid, we’ve got another doctor here.”

The man in question, Reid, looks up from the book he was reading with furrowed eyebrows. “Hi.” He waves.

“Hey,” you wave back. “What’re you reading?”

“War and Peace. In Russian, though.”

“In-- Wow, okay.”

“He’s a genius,” Morgan explains.

“I see that,” you chuckle.

Aaron finishes the introductions for you. “That’s JJ, handles the press for us because none of us want to do it.”

“He’s not wrong,” JJ replies with a laugh. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” you smile.

“You met Reid, his first name’s Spencer,” Aaron supplies, and Reid is too far gone in the book again to notice. “This is Emily Prentiss.”

“And I have been dying to meet you,” Emily says. “You are exactly how he described.”

“In a good way, I hope?” You laugh nervously.

She nods. “Definitely.”

Aaron points to the other woman at the counter. She’s dressed in all sorts of crazy colors with glasses that match her outfit. And before he can introduce her, she says, “I’m Penelope Garcia, technology extraordinaire. I keep them out of trouble.”

“And we love you for it,” Derek adds.

“And this is Dave,” Aaron finishes.

“It is very nice to finally meet you,” Dave says, and actually shakes your hand. “Do you know how to make carbonara?”

“Yes, actually,” you say, earning a surprised look from Aaron. “I went through a phase when I was younger, wanting to make anything and everything that sounded good, so I’ve made this a few times. My mom loves it.”

Dave loves the sound of that. “Would you like to help me?”

You practically light up inside and out. “Seriously? I’d love to!”

“Oh, here we go,” Derek groans. “He’s roped her in.”

You ignore him, slipping away from Aaron to grab the other apron off the hook by the entrance to the kitchen. You slide your head through the loop and tie it at the back in a matter of seconds, too excited to contain it.

“I almost went to culinary school, you know,” you say to no one in particular, but Aaron is listening, and so is Dave.

“Why didn’t you?” Aaron asks.

You shrug. “Didn’t seem practical.” Which isn’t the real answer at all. The real answer is you got your heart broken and needed to do a complete 180 in life, so you did. Culinary school was out. Getting a doctorate was in. You turn on the water in the sink and begin washing your hands. “What do you need me to do?”

For the next hour, you help Dave make the carbonara, occasionally answering any questions Aaron’s friends have for you.

Aaron pours you a glass of wine and sits at the counter, watching you cook. You look more at peace than he’s seen you since a few days ago when he first bumped into you again.

You catch him looking at you more than a handful of times. It feels good. Spending the evening with his friends, his team, with him. You’ve missed spending time with him more than anything else.

Dave serves up the carbonara, telling you to sit down since you helped so much already. You don’t make him ask twice.

+++

After dinner, everyone moves into the living room, scattering on the various couches and chairs. Reid has finished reading War and Peace, so the book sits discarded on one of the coffee tables.

You take the spot on the couch next to Aaron, careful not to spill your wine. Penelope sits on the other side of you, with Derek on her other side, which all but forces you to move closer to Aaron, and something about the look on Penelope’s face tells you it was done on purpose.

You’re not exactly complaining, though. With a full stomach and a fresh glass of wine, Aaron’s presence is even warmer than before. You pay no mind when he shifts his left arm, stretching it over the back of the couch and allowing you to scoot closer, your legs pressed against each other’s.

The conversation continues, and somehow the subject of relationships is brought up.

“Yeah, why was I the only one asked to bring someone?” Aaron asks. “I’d like to see all of you find a last minute date.”

Another warm rush goes through your body at the word date. This is a date. Alright then.

“I think you did just fine,” Dave says, nodding to you. “Don’t you?”

You shrug, not sure of what to make of it. “I’m having fun, so I guess so.”

“See?” Dave gives Aaron a look. “You did fine.”

Aaron gives his friend a tired glare. “Only because she happened to be back from getting her degrees. Otherwise, I would’ve been stuck.”

“Nah, man, you could’ve called Beth.”

You feel Aaron tense next to you, but you aren’t sure if he tensed up or if you did. Maybe both. Probably both. You weren’t aware there was someone else.

“Who’s Beth?” You ask as casually as possible, ignoring the heated glares Penelope, JJ, and Emily alike are sending Derek. Seriously, Derek would be dead three times over right now if looks could be deadly.

Aaron shrugs before answering you. “Her and I dated briefly last year.”

You nod slowly, trying not to seem hurt or upset or anything by this because it’s ridiculous of you to be fighting back tears, but you can’t help it.

It’s high school, goddamnit, it’s fucking high school all over again.

The topic of conversation shifts thanks to Reid being the endless supplier of random facts. One question about Russian from Emily and he’s taking over, washing the awkwardness away in two languages.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work as well for you as it does for everyone else.

You set your wine glass down on the table and tell Penelope you’re going to use the bathroom. You have no clue where it is, but she doesn’t know that.

Aaron does. And Aaron hears the tone of voice you use.

He waits until you’re down the hall before he stands to follow you, foregoing any explanation to his friends. They already know what he’s doing.

Aaron’s suspicions are correct when he hears the front door close and sees your coat no longer hanging next to his on the hook by the door. He grabs his and only gets one arm through a sleeve before he’s opening the door, eyes searching the premises for you.

Thankfully, he finds you after two seconds, and his racing heart slows a little. You’re standing by the reindeer lights on Dave’s front lawn. Your coat is only hanging on your shoulders, something you’ve always done since high school when you were upset.

“It feels more like a blanket,” you had told him one day. “Blankets are more comforting than jackets.”

He doesn’t see the difference, but you do, and that was enough for him.

He has both arms through the sleeves by the time he’s next to you. He gently touches your arm to get your attention, adding a soft, “Hey,” for good measure.

You turn your head at the sound, having already known he was coming because you heard the front door open. In the back of your mind, you had wanted him to follow you out here, but now that he’s done it, you aren’t so sure this is what you wanted.

You wanted to ignore the feeling. Get it to disappear on its own. Survive the night, then never talk to him again. You were heartbroken, but it was better when you weren’t speaking to him. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron says softly. “Beth and I haven’t spoken since our last date a year ago. It was only three dates. We weren’t serious at all.” He pauses. “I have no idea why Derek said that. He doesn’t think before he speaks sometimes.”

You nod, not having it in you to laugh at Aaron’s small jab, even though he is entirely correct. Derek is a quick thinker with a sharp wit, but you can see how it might backfire sometimes. Like tonight.

You believe Aaron, you really do. But it’s so hard. “Did you love her?”

Aaron is stunned for a moment, but says, “No. I don’t think I did.”

“Okay.” You shake your head, looking down at the grass. “I’m just trying to figure out why Derek would’ve brought her up if...if you guys dated so briefly.”

Aaron sighs. “I don’t know.”

“And is this a date?” You blurt, finally finding the courage to get that one out. “Because if it is, I…I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

You shake your head again, trying to find the right words, but they always seem out of reach. “Just...tell me this won’t be like high school.”

This time Aaron is too stunned to form a real answer. “What?”

“Please,” you sound like you’re about to cry and you feel so pathetic that you wish you had never agreed to come tonight. But you’re here anyway. “I was in love with you then, and I’m still in love with you now, but I can’t do that again. So if this is a just friends thing and always will be, I need you to tell me before I hurt myself all over again.”

Aaron can’t believe his ears. He swears he heard you wrong. He must have. “You were in love with me in high school, too?”

“Yes-- Wait, too? What do you mean too?” Now you’re looking at him, eyes wide in confusion, shock, every emotion possible. “Too?”

“I was in love with you, Y/N,” he chuckles, reaching for your hands. “I thought you just saw me as an older brother. That’s why I never...said anything.”

“What?” You breathe, letting him thread his fingers through yours. “Are you serious? You better not be pulling my leg, Hotchner. Don’t do that to me.” You tug on his hands for emphasis, giving him a stern look.

“I’m not joking,” he says, taking a step closer. “I wouldn’t joke about this.”

“Oh my god,” you say, disbelief a powerful thief of words. “I can’t believe… So you went after Haley because…”

“Because I heard from one of her friends that she had a crush on me,” he admits. “I did love her, but not as much as I loved you. Never as much as I loved you.”

You don’t know what else to do or say. He looks so beautiful in this light that it hurts, and now he’s saying words you never thought you’d ever hear.

“Do you forgive me?” He asks. “For breaking your heart?”

“Only if you forgive me for breaking yours,” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “I broke my own. I should’ve told you how I felt.” He pauses. “I even talked to you about Haley all the time. Is that why you didn’t say goodbye to me?”

You nod. “It sounds so stupid now, but I was so hurt.”

“I’m an idiot,” he laughs. “I’m the dumbest fool to ever walk the Earth.”

“We both are,” you correct him, taking a step closer. It’s cold out here, but he’s warm. He’s always been so warm. Like home.

And you-- you’ve always been who Aaron thinks of when he thinks about being happy. It’s always been you. A moment like this, and a thousand others. He wants them all. And to think, you do too.

His lips meet yours in a long-awaited kiss, cold noses bumping against one another, his warm hands holding your face, your chilled fingers finding their home on his neck, stealing his warmth.

From the window, the team watches, and Emily exchanges money with Derek.

[writemekpop]

Lipstick On Your Collar (Part 1) | Nakamoto Yuta

Pairing: Nakamoto Yuta x Reader

Summary: Till death do us part... But what happens when he cheats?  

Genre: Husband!Yuta, Angst

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Infidelity, Sexual Content, Body Image

Gif: @yuthereal​

Part 1 ⭐| Part 2  | Part 3 | Part 4

“Ten more minutes, then it’s homework time, alright?” you called to your two older sons, eight and four years old. Caught up in their wooden sword fight, they didn’t even look up.

You smoothed your hand over your face, eyes bruised from lack of sleep. Between your banking job and your three kids, sleep was a rare thing.

Just then, you felt a waft of chill air. Yuta strode in through the front door, his feathery black hair in disarray.

“Hey babe,” you called, shoulders relaxing.

Your husband had this calming presence, your island on a rough ocean. Your chest ached for Yuta’s warmth. You hadn’t hugged, kissed… touched in months.

“Hi, Y/n. We need to talk,” Yuta deadpanned.

You picked up your baby daughter Ayumi. She needed her nappy changed. Bad.

“Alright. What’s up?” You placed her on the changing mat, blowing your fringe out of your eyes.

“I mean in private.” You saw that Yuta’s face was stretched and white. A knot curled in your stomach.

“Nappies?” You lifted your hand. He begrudgingly handed them over.

“Y/n. This is serious.” Yuta’s voice quivered like a taut string.

“Can’t you see I’m busy? What is it?” you snapped. You instantly regretted it. Nowadays, you were always on the edge of an explosion.

“Okay. Fine. I’ve… messed up. And I’m sorry, and I didn’t mean it, but… it’s happened.”

You bin Ayumi’s old nappy, then pull her into your arms. “Is that all? Look, if you’ve broken something, we have insurance.”

“This isn’t a bloody plate! I’ve- I’ve done something awful.”

“Right. Well done. Anyway, I have to help the kids with their homework.”

“Just look at me, Y/n! I’m trying to fucking tell you something!” Yuta’s yell turned your head.

Yuta’s eyes were red-rimmed and wide, like he was in shock. “I… cheated on you, Y/n. I slept with someone else.”

Your heartbeat slowed to a crawl. Instinctively, you pulled your baby close.

“Who is she?”

“Diya. From the school.”

Your lips went numb. You put Ayumi down in her rocker and started rinsing plates in the sink. “How long?”

“Just once. It was a mistake, I swear… it’s just, she was there, and… I didn’t plan it!”

Your chest folded in on itself. While you were kissing your babies to sleep, Yuta was kissing someone else.

“When was it, Yuta?”

“The… day you… went to stay with your sister.”

You’d never forget that day.

It was a few weeks after Ayumi was born. You couldn’t seem to get out of bed, let alone be a good mother. So you’d escaped… just for a day.

While you were breaking apart, Yuta searched out another woman.

“Where?” You picked up the cutlery, letting the hot water scald your skin.

“Her apartment. We met up after work, and one thing led to another… I swear, that was all.”

Images burned into your mind, like a flashed camera. Yuta’s fingernails scraping the back of her neck, like he did to you. Their naked bodies gyrating, sweaty, the smell of sex saturating everything…

Your throat convulsed in a retch. For a second, it was like a brick was hitting your chest.

Then, everything stopped.

You felt a curtain dropping. You didn’t have time to deal with this. Not now. As quickly as they came, the feelings slowed. Drooped. Vanished.

You looked down. You were clenching a table knife so hard it had drawn blood. You let go.

Everything blurred. You felt like a kid again, staring up at yourself from the bottom of a pool.

Your voice was a croak. “Obviously, we’re not telling the kids. My parents are coming next week – so we can’t tell them either.”

You dried your hands and looked up at Yuta. His mouth was hanging open, like a cartoon character’s. It was almost funny.

You continued speaking, bunging toys into a basket.

“If you want a divorce, tell me now, because we’ll have to borrow money. For tonight, I’ll take the bed, you have the couch.”

“What the hell, Y/n?”

You jolt and look up. “Fine! You can have the bed.”

Yuta grabbed your shoulders, knife-cheekboned and wild. “I don’t care about the fucking bed! I just told you I cheated on you. Why aren’t you mad?”

You stared at his hands on your skin, like you didn’t recognise them. Yuta spotted your gaze, and slowly let go.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n. I want to fix this. But you need to let me in.”

You looked into his chestnut eyes and frowned. Why was he being so obnoxious?

Slowly, you spelled it out. “You cheated on me. It was with our kids’ tutor, while I was sick. You’re sorry. You won’t do it again. Now can I go and make dinner?”

Yuta blinked. Slowly. Then, he gulped and gave you a slight nod. “Yep.”

You pushed past him, and called out, “Whoever helps mummy with dinner gets ice cream!”

You ushered your eager kids towards the hob. You didn’t look back, but you felt Yuta’s gaze on the back of your head. Stunned.

------

You plastered on your brightest smile all throughout dinner, whilst laying out bedding on the couch for yourself, even whilst tucking your children into bed.

Now, you were sitting in your children’s room, with the lights out. You’d just finished reading their bedtime story. They were fast asleep.

Finally, you let the iron screen lift from your heart. Instead of fighting it, you bared the most vulnerable part of yourself.

It was a memory: you were in Paris with Yuta on the first night of your honeymoon. You were in a mid-range Travel Lodge – the best you could afford – with rain pelting at the windows.

You had woken up at 11AM, tangled up with Yuta from your cuddling. You’d talked, worried, agonised about it, but you’d never had sex with him before.

Yuta opened one sleepy eye and felt your body with his hands, as if he was checking if it was there. You tingled with lust to the tips of your toes. Suddenly, you knew the moment was right.

For once, you didn’t care about your tummy that you always tried to hide, you didn’t care about your thighs which rubbed together when you walked.

You didn’t think about anything, except the feeling of Yuta’s slow kisses, the feeling of him inside of you, the feeling of his hands reaching to the very ends of you.

You were in a hazy, golden pool of completeness. As you gasped your worries, apologies, in each other’s ears, you became whole in a way you’d never known before.

Then, the memory shattered. And in its place, before you could stop it, was the image that was burnt into your eyelids.

It played over and over again, the trailer to a movie of your shame. Yuta in her apartment, the thumping of the bedposts, him between her legs, her exclamations of ‘yes!’, that were only echoed by him moaning her name…

You screamed silently into your fist.

You knew the real reason Yuta cheated on you. Whatever excuses he made, it wasn’t a mistake or a drunk one-off.

You grabbed the soft flesh around your waist. This was why. You thought of the nights you’d told him you were too tired, that you weren’t in the mood. That was why.

You couldn’t even blame Yuta. He was only compensating for the fact that his own wife would never be attractive enough, good enough, just enough for him.

The tears rose up your throat, making your head pound and your cheeks stretch with sobs. You wanted nothing more than to drown yourself in these tears, though you knew they wouldn’t wash the pain away.

Then, you caught a grey glimmer in the darkness. Your youngest boy, Nico, was wide awake and watching you with saucer eyes.

“Hey baby… go back to sleep,” you whispered, quickly smoothing away your tears.

“Are you crying, mummy?”

The softness in his gaze was like a punch in the stomach. You choked down another wave of tears. “No, sweetie, I’m fine. Go back to sleep okay?”

Obediently, he closed his eyes. You didn’t deserve such beautiful children.

You were doubled over, silent in the darkness. You pressed your palms into your eyes, so hard they hurt, and forced the tears back.

You couldn’t even make your husband love you.

What hope did you have with your kids?

------

Three days had passed since that terrible night.

It was 10PM, and the house was unusually quiet.

You and Yuta were sitting at the far edges of the couch, the Netflix episode you never missed playing on the TV.

Both of you were pretending like nothing had gone wrong.

“So… how was work?” Yuta’s cautious voice broke the silence.

You sighed and shook your head. “Just get me a drink.” You couldn’t be bothered with this charade. But at least you could drown your feelings.

“Are you sure that’s a good-” Yuta began.

“Just get it.”

He returned with a whisky, with two ice cubes. Your heart twisted. “You remembered?”

“How could I forget my wife’s favourite drink?” Yuta gave you a thin smile, and for a second, you forgot to ice him out. You smiled back.  

That was two whiskies ago. Now, the gap between the two of you on the sofa had shrunk.

You were laughing so hard your eyes were teary.

“Do you remember, Y/n? Your shirt was on backwards, my pants were on the other side of the room, we were moaning so loud half the theme park could hear us!”

You dried your eyes, sighing. “I bet we scarred a few kids for life that day…”

Yuta’s lip curled up in a smile that sent your heart racing.

You looked down. Subconsciously, your hand was massaging Yuta’s denim-clad knee. You retracted it.

“God, we really knew how to have fun, didn’t we?” You could barely remember the time before you had your three children. It was rose-coloured.

“I mean, Disneyland was nothing. Remember Taeyong’s attic? The nightclub bathroom? I could go on…”

“Ahh!” You mimed blocking your ears. “There are kids in the house, you know!”

In doing so, you lost your grip on your whisky glass, which was balanced on your knee. Yuta grabbed it before it fell, and his hand was suddenly on your thigh.

He let go, and you cleared your throat.

That was hours back. Now, you were having difficulty sitting straight. You’d lost count of how many whiskies you’d downed.

You grabbed Yuta by the shoulders and shook him. “Look! Let’s just get it out of the way. ASAP, straight, completo. No regrets.”

For the first time in ages, your blood was running warm with more than alcohol. The worn denim of Yuta’s jeans was pulling your gaze southward.

“Get what out of the way? You’re not making sense, Y/n.”

You pulled the pin out of your hair and let it fall over your shoulders. “The big three-letter.”

Yuta looked at you, still bewildered. “What?”

“SEX.”

The glass fell from Yuta’s hand.

To be continued…

Part 1 ⭐| Part 2  | Part 3 | Part 4

[street-smarts00]

You Make Me Weak

Bakugou x Gen Neutral reader

Summary: Bakugou and y/n are constantly bickering and fighting. They both like eachother but are too in denial to admit it. Their friends pick up on this and plan a way for them to get along. 

Wc: 2.300

!Language warning! 

You banged on the door and relentlessly fought with the handle. “Get back over here and open this door!” you yelled to your friends on the other side of the door. You heard some laughing and finally got a response from someone.

“Sorry, but we’re not opening that door until you guys get along!” Ochako yelled back. You heard their footsteps fade signaling they were gone. You stopped fighting with the door handle and turned around to face the biggest thorn in your side since you started at UA, Katsuki Bakugou. 

That morning 

He couldn’t stand you. At all. Just seeing you in class made his blood boil and heart start racing. If he got too close to you his head would start spinning, or he would become overly conscious of his sweaty hands. He’d constantly catch himself thinking about you all the time and sneaking glances at you during school. You made him feel things he’s never felt before. He didn’t know what was going on or how to stop it. He hated it. 

It was even more irritating because his friends would constantly tease him about it. Like right now. Bakugou was in the homeroom sitting near his “friends” and not really joining in their conversation much because he wasn’t in the mood to talk. Instead he kept staring at you from across the room while you were busy deep in conversation with Uraraka. Anytime you would look his way he would quickly avert his eyes and plaster on an angry expression. 

His cheeks would turn a slight shade of pink as he tried to act like you were the bane of his existence. Denki picked up on this. 

“Yo Kachan what’s got you all blushy,” he asked with a smirk. 

“Shut up, I’m not blushing” 

“Is he staring at y/n again?” Sero asked. 

“Probably,” Mina answered. 

“Shut up, I can barely hold in my puke just by looking at them,” Bakugou lied. 

At the start of the school year the two of you tolerated each other. You didn’t speak and you didn’t interact most of the time. Even when you did it was pretty neutral. But somehow over the course of the last few weeks Bakugou found you more and more annoying. 

It seemed like most of his hatred turned from Deku to you. He would throw insults at you and call you names and you got sick of it. At first you just tried to ignore him, but after it kept happening you snapped at him. 

“Can you just shut up!” You practically screamed at him. 

Bakugou froze in shock, he’d never heard you speak that loudly before, and with so much fury in your eyes. 

“You are always shitting on me for no reason at all and you’re acting like a total jackass! Can you for once stop acting like you’re better than everyone here!” You continued. 

“Tch, it’s cause I am better than you,” he smirked. 

You balled your fists and your jaw clenched. “UGH I can’t stand you!” You retorted and stormed out of the common area. After that encounter a few weeks ago, he’s only been more intrigued in you. No one has snapped back at him like that. It seriously ticked him off. 

All while Bakugou was going through his roller coaster of emotions about you, his friends were paying very close attention. How they always caught him staring at you or bringing you up and how “annoying” you are. How they saw he would fidget with whatever was in his hand or bounce his leg whenever you were talking or your name was brought up. How he would bring you up all the time despite his dislike for you. They all slowly figured out that he had the biggest crush on you and was in serious denial. 

They tried to mention it to him once and he almost blew them up for even suggesting that, so they haven’t brought up the subject since. But they still do like to tease him from time to time. 

-

You couldn’t stand him. Katsuki Bakugou was the most annoying person in your class. His ego was through the roof and constantly thought he was better than everyone else. Most of the time you kept a distance, not wanting to get yelled at by the explosive blond. 

What bothered you even more was that after your little spat with him, he was always trying to talk to you or was always looking at you. You and Bakugou were almost as bad as him and Deku. You were constantly fighting and spitting insults at each other. You weren’t even paired together during heroics anymore after last time you two almost killed each other. 

Thankfully you hadn’t had any spats with him today, only some staring and dirty looks during homeroom. School had ended and you were spending some alone time in your dorm finishing up your homework. You heard a knock on your door. 

“It’s open,” you yelled from your desk. 

The door was opened and revealed Uraraka and Mina.

“Hey y/n, what’s up?” Ochako asked. 

“Nothing exciting, I’m like 2 minutes away from finishing my homework.” 

She smiled, “oh cool, so you’re free after that?” 

You scribbled down the answers as fast you could, “yup.” 

“Awesome! so some of us are chilling in one of the vacant dorms on the third floor. You wanna join?” Mina cheered. 

You furrowed your eyebrows and tapped your pencil against your notebook. “Why are you guys in a vacant dorm? Why not just hang out in someone's room?” 

Uraraka played with the hem of her shirt. “I don’t know, it was Seros idea. But come on, it'll be fun. 

You quickly finished up the last question of your homework and left with your friends to wherever your friends were. On the way downstairs you felt something was off. Uraraka and Mina weren’t acting strangely, but something was telling you that they knew something. 

The three of you made it to the third floor and your friends guided you to one of the vacant dorm rooms. You stepped inside and there was no one there. “Umm where is . . “ 

Before you could finish your question you heard Kirishima and Kaminari voices making their way from the elevator to where you are now. Your stomach dropped once you realized that the last person you wanted to see walked in the room with your friends. 

But that wasn’t even the worst part. Seconds after the boys walked inside Kirishima, Sero, Mina and Uraraka ran out of the room and slammed the door shut. You and Bakugou exchanged confused looks and ran to the door. 

Bakugou fought with the handle and banged on the door. “What the hell? Open the damn door!” He screamed. You could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears. 

“Sorry but this is for your own good,” Kaminari giggled. 

“How the hell did you guys even lock the door? No one is living here, you don’t have a key!” You yelled through the door. 

“I taped the door shut,” You heard from Sero. 

“Anyway we’re gonna go and leave you to chat,” Kiri added. 

You pushed Bakugou out of the way and banged on the door relentlessly fighting with the handle. “Guys this isn’t funny! Get back over here and open this door!” you yelled to your friends on the other side of the door. You heard some laughing and finally got a response from someone.

“Sorry, but we’re not opening that door until you guys get along!” Ochako yelled back. You heard their footsteps fade signaling they were gone. You stopped fighting with the door handle and turned around to face the biggest thorn in your side since you started at UA. 

You sat down on the bed and let out a loud sigh, this can not be happening. You glanced at Katsuki, his arms were crossed and his eyes were on the floor. You noticed he had calmed down since your friends left, but he had left his guard up and set up some imaginary barrier. 

It was almost annoying how easy he was to read, maybe that was another reason why you disliked him.. Most of your friends couldn't comprehend how you could read him like a book, but at the same time you stand within a 5 foot radius of him. 

Nothing but silence filled the room for the next few minutes. You glanced back at him, now he was situated at the desk chair with his feet propped up on the desk. Some of his hair fell onto his forehead and his bright red eyes stayed fixated on the floor. His arms were still crossed like before but because of the way he was sitting his biceps were  . . . wait WHAT  . . stop thinking about his hair or eyes or muscles. 

Your thoughts started to wander and you thought back at your encounters with the blond at the beginning of the school year. The two of you barely spoke and when you did there were no insults or name calling. Just classmates like everyone else. It wasn't until about a little over a month ago that you noticed Bakugou's attitude towards you change. 

Although you didn't want to disturb the somewhat peaceful setting that was the predicament you were in, you had to know why he hated you all of a sudden. You had to know what switch was set off for him to go from tolerating you, to despising you. 

“Why do you hate me so much?” you broke the silence. 

His head snapped to you with a look of confusion. “Tch cause you’re annoying.” 

Ok this boy was on thin ice with you right now. “That’s not an answer.” 

He rolled his eyes, “Well it’s the answer I fucking gave you.” 

“Can you not, for like two seconds?” you spat, patience growing thin. 

“I don’t know, can you shut up?” He placed his feet off the desk. 

You clenched your fists in frustration. It was nearly impossible to have a normal conversation with him. “You know what! I can't with you! Why are you like this?” You stood up and raised your voice unknowingly. 

“Like what?” He stood up mirroring you. 

“The insults and dirty looks. You staring at me all the time with that dumb look on your face!” You explained as your voice gained volume. You stepped towards him and stared him down. You both stood in silence. The tension in the room rose by the second. 

“What the hell did I do to you to make you hate me so much!” 

He stepped closer to you, your faces inches apart. His breath was ragged and uneven, his eyes were narrowed on you. Your heart beat was quickly rising as the seconds passed. 

“You wanna know why I hate you?”

“Yes” 

Within an instant his lips were on yours. At first you were startled and unable to move, but soon you fell into the rhythm of the kiss. It wasn’t until right now that you realized just how badly you wanted this. How badly you wanted to capture his lips into your own and . You wrapped your hands around his neck deepening the kiss. He placed his one hand on the back of your head, and the other lightly trailed down the back of your spine leaving goosebumps. You slowly parted, breaking the kiss and gasped for air. 

“You make me feel weak,” he admitted. 

Your eyes went wide and met with his red ones. Your heart was doing a number on you and your cheeks were heating up. You rested your head against his chest to hide your blush and let out a long sigh. “Of all the things for you to say, I did not think that was going to be one of them. Who knew Katsuki Bakugou was a huge softie,” you giggled.

He removed you from his hold and placed his hands in his pockets. “Shut up dumbass,” he scoffed 

Both of you stood there in silence, not knowing what to do next. But this time there was no awkward tension in the air. After a few seconds you cleared your throat and spoke up, “So . . . what do we do now?” 

“We get the fuck out of here that’s what,” he replied. 

He walked towards the door and glanced back at you silently asking to join him. You walked over and he started to yell and bang on the door, you followed suit. 

Shortly after the yelling and banging began, your friends ran upstairs to prevent the possibility of you two killing each other, or worse, Aizawa finding you guys locked in a room. 

“Yo, what's going on?” you heard from Kaminari. 

“Let us out, we made up!” you answered. 

There was quiet from behind the door for a few seconds followed by some whispering. 

“How do we know you're telling the truth?” you heard from Mina. 

You looked at Katsuki and he smirked. You could read him like a book, you knew exactly what he was planning.  

“Open the door and we’ll prove it,” he added. 

There was more quiet behind the door and soon your heard tape being peeled off. Not long after, the door was opened and behind it a group of friends with questioning expressions. 

“Ok, it's open, what's your proof?” Kiri asked. 

You and Katsuki exchanged looks and he planted his hand on your waist and pulled you into another kiss. This one is much quicker then the first one, but just as passionate. 

You pulled away from the kiss and looked back at your friends. All with wide eyes and jaws hangin on the floor. 

“Holy shit I knew it!” Kami and Mina screamed with excitement. A few seconds later Sero handed an unknown amount of money to Uraraka.

“How’s that for proof?” you smiled. 

[liannelara-dracula]

🤒DL

Alright this is finally done. I am trying to get to other asks do not send in other ones.

Sakamaki

Shu:

He let���s you handle yourself at first.

But if he notices that you aren’t getting better or need help he will come to you.

He isn’t strict with medicine but rest.

He wants you to sleep.

So he cuddles you.

He literally pulls you down to lay with him.

Will

Take you to the doctor if needed.

He isn’t too worried.

He will give you affection cause he knows he can’t get sick.

Reiji:

Is sooooooo strict, like no joke.

He watches you like a mom.

Gives you remedies and medicines to treat you.

He keeps you in his room to have you rest on his bed. So he can watch you of course.

It’s also cause he likes to secretly watch you sleep.

If it’s bad like a fever or worse he carries you everywhere. Obviously bridal style.

He checks your temperature and asks you were it hurts.

If you want affection he doesn’t give it to you bc your sick. He won’t get sick but he just feels the need to punish you for getting sick.

Though he will kiss the top of your head after he checks your temperature.

Laito:

He’s pretty good at taking care of you.

Actually knows how to care of you, with Reijis instructions of course.😂😂

He worries a lot

To the point where it’s annoying.

“Bitch Chan do you need this?” Or “How do you feel? Does it hurt?” He’d ask, just getting on your nerves.

Tries to be helpful but he’s nervous.

Finds your stuffy nose and red face kinda cute.

“How adorable.” He’d tease tapping your nose.

“Ugh.” You’d huff.

Overall he tries.

Ayato:

Bro here really tries, like he does his best.

Always asking Reiji or Shu how to do things.

“Bro how do I check the temperature again?” He’d ask.

“Just put it on her forehead and it’ll tell you.” Shu would sigh.

“Thanks, dude.” He’d say before leaving.

He will take pictures of you while you’re sick.

Hands you tissues, or water.

Gives you fluffy blankets.

Makes horrible soup.

Gives you his hoodies.

doesn’t kiss you tho.

“Human germs can’t effect you.”

“Really?” He’d ask.

“Yes, idiot.” You’d joke.

Kanato:

Is pretty good.

watches you like a hawk.

knows how to make you fall asleep.

Sings you to sleep.

He feeds you his sweets and his cake.

You have to convince him a lot of times that your not dying and that it’s just a cold.

He likes to cuddle with you so much.

You become the little spoon. No objections.

He likes to give you blankets and pillows.

He’s very good at giving medication to you if needed.

If his brothers are being loud and you need rest he’ll get angry and tell them to be quiet.

“Be quiet! Can’t you see your upsetting Y/n!?”

He’d yell before closing the door to come back to you.

“Okay you can rest now princess.”

Subaru:

He is soooooo worried.

Protect him I swear

He is so caring and sweet.

Will get you anything and he makes sure you take the medicine.

He might forget and then he’ll get mad but you tell him it’s ok.

Would take you to the doctor if things got worse.

He’d really help if you needed it.

If he saw you could handle it he wouldn’t interfere.

But he’d check up on you.

And kiss your forehead, especially if you have a fever.

He’d also give you cuddles if you were cold.

Overall he’d be really sweet.

Kino:

Takes pictures of you for black mail.

Not so good at taking care of you.

He’s like a Ayato in that sense.

His soup will be salty.

He will give good massages tho.

Cuddles.

Buys you medicine tho.

You mostly have to take care of your self tho.

But he’ll make sure it’s not an emergency or something.

Otherwise he’ll get you some help.

Mukami

Ruki:

He knows you don’t need help but he’s helping you anyways because he says you don’t know how to take care of yourself.

It’s just an excuse to be with you.

He is very caring and gentle with you.

Reads to you a lot to comfort you.

Temple and forehead kisses.

He brushes your hair a lot.

He also makes you take baths to relax not with you tho since your sick and he knows you don’t feel the greatest rn.

Gives you medicine and if you hate it you’re still taking it. He doesn’t try to give you other flavors that you’d like either he just tells you to suck it up.

“Ruki it tastes horrible.” You grimaced at the spoonful of dark liquid he was about to give you.

“There is no other way of getting better. So open wide.” He’d be a little smug about it seeing you act like a kid.

You are usually in his bed bc he supervises you when you’re sick.

He will cuddle with you too.

Keeps a close eye on you.

He doesn’t want you to help him bc he knows you’re weak right now.

He would carry you around if needed.

Yuma:

He does his best if he needs to step in.

Cause Yuma has a big heart.

He will carry you anywhere and everywhere. Bc he doesn’t want you t be by yourself.

Ruki would have to tell him how to use the medicine properly cause we all know Yuma can get upset with instructions.😂😂

Really cares for you but he sometimes wants you to be tougher cause he thinks it’s just a little illness or whatever.

Though after he sees you trying to follow up after him and you can’t he stops and apologize.

He will probably hold you like a little kid when he picks you up. Which is so awkward.

“Yuma put me down. I can still walk there.” You’d say a little annoyed.

“Aw, are you embarrassed little pig? It’s not like you’re wearing a skirt.”

You roll your eyes at him just give up.

You have to remind him when you have take your medicine cause he forgets.

He will help you in the shower even you don’t need it or want his help.

“I’m okay. I really don’t need help washing myself.”

“Two showering is faster than one.” He’d say pulling up the hem of your shirt above your waistline.

“Yuma I’m sick, this isn’t appealing.” You’d pout.

Tho he always reassures you, you look beautiful anyway.

Kou:

He’s pretty decent with taking care of you if you need it.

You sleep in his bed cause he wants you too.

He makes you food and gives you medicine.

He finds you being sick a little too cute.

Like all your little sneezes and red nose.

Even tho your really annoyed.

He is sweet with helping you but you always tell him you got it.

Sometimes he can annoy you so you pretend like your sleeping😂

He likes to cuddle with you.

He gives a lot head pats.

Will baby you.

“Here let me help you walk there? Do you want to shower? Some water?”

And so on.

He just gets worried.

Azusa:

Soooooo gentle and sweet.

He helps you with everything.

Brings you the homework you missed and completes it for you.

But he tells you everything you need to know.

Makes you food even if he sucks.

Cuddles you.

Gives you the medicine and listened to Ruki’s instructions.

He is very careful.

Worries over you a lot.

So he checks your temperature often.

He will keep you company and won’t leave.

Is just so sweet and will carry you if you don’t feel good either.

Likes to prepare baths for you too.

He puts a lot of flowers in it with a bath bomb too.

It all smells really nice.

Tsukinami

Carla:

Keeps an eye on you.

He knows what it’s like to be sick.

Helps you as best as he can.

Pretty good at making you food and remembering when to give medicine.

He’s like a doctor honestly.

Will allow you to sleep his bed instead.

He checks your temperature and places a kiss to your head.

Reads you books probably.

You mostly sleep so he doesn’t have to be around you too much.

Shin:

he’s not that great.

it’s cause he doesn’t get sick so he doesn’t get it.

he tires tho.

but he gets impatient.

“How the heck do you read this damn thing?”

“Shin, you’re reading it upside down.” You’d giggle.

You mostly take care of yourself but he is willing to help if he’s that you need it.

He actually likes to take care of you.

Sucks at making food.

no really.

Finds your sneezes cute tho.

He likes to hug you too, cause it gives you comfort.

And it’s probably the only thing he can do.

[intheticklecloset]

I’m Not Asking (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

I decided to go a different route than the tickling in public thing, since that particular irritation of his comes up often enough in other fics. Instead I chose to go with something a little different: pushing past boundaries. There’s not a lot of actual tickling in this one, but I like the story and there’s some good character growth that I think is important. Hopefully you’ll like it all the same! Enjoy!

6. “You want me to tickle you that bad?”

26. “Just tickle me already!”

Warning: ignored boundaries, slight angst

~

Bakugou was tired of being afraid.

Really, that’s all it was. It wasn’t that he missed being tickled by the idiots who followed him around everywhere. Of course not. Definitely not. But he was sick and tired of being on edge around them, constantly thinking about it whether he wanted to or not.

It had all started weeks ago, one evening in Sero’s room while the two of them – plus Mina and Denki – had been studying for an upcoming test. As it often did nowadays, their studying had become a tickle fight, during which Bakugou was waylaid by all three of them at once and tickled until he was begging them to stop…and beyond.

That’s where the problem had originated. Kiri wasn’t there to put an end to their antics, so the three of them had gotten carried away with their tickling, torturing him so much and for so long he actually became afraid they’d never let him go, no matter how much he screamed and pleaded. Thankfully Kirishima had finally made it to Sero’s room, taken one look at Bakugou’s state, and hurriedly put an end to it all.

Since then he hadn’t been overly inclined to hang out with any of them, save for the redhead who’d gotten him out of that mess. In the week following he’d kept to himself and left the room when they entered, ignoring their texts and knocks on his door. At one point Kiri managed to convince him the others wouldn’t randomly tickle him if he started hanging out again, so he’d begrudgingly begun to do so.

Now, weeks later, Bakugou was tired of it all.

He hated to admit that he’d legitimately been terrified in the moment – afraid they’d tickle him until he passed out, despite the fact that he’d been yelling for them to stop over and over. But he had been terrified, and that fear – whether he liked it or not – had followed him into their everyday interactions. Though he was hanging out with them again, he made sure to never sit too close, never wear exposing clothing around them, never say something that might set them off.

But he was sick of that fear. He wanted everything to go back to normal, even if that meant allowing them to reduce him to a puddle of giggles once again.

So, gradually, he started wearing cutoff shirts again, going barefoot around them, and being as mouthy as he always was. He figured his obvious reversion back to the way he’d been before would be enough for them to go back to how they were before. But – to his surprise and confusion – it wasn’t. He even went so far as to start actively trying to provoke them into poking him, pinching a side, attacking his sweet spot, anything. But there was no reaction from the crew. None whatsoever. They acted as though tickling never existed.

Bakugou hated that even more.

Finally, one night, he stormed into Kirishima’s dorm room. “What’s the matter with you all?”

Kiri startled, pulling off his headphones and looking up at him, bewildered. “What?”

“It’s like you’re all blind. I’m being as obvious as I can. What more do you want from me?”

There was a pause. Kiri slowly put his headphones on his desk and stood up. “Bakugou,” he said seriously, gently, “remember how upset I was when you weren’t picking up on the clear signs that I wanted you to tickle me? Do you remember that I finally had to say something to you directly to get you to understand that?”

Bakugou growled. “But you see the signs. You get it! Why not just tell them?”

“I know you may not understand this, since you’ve been distancing yourself from them for a while now,” Kiri continued, “but they’re just as traumatized as you are.”

“I am not traumatized.”

“Katsuki.”

The use of his first name gave the blonde pause. He let out a frustrated sigh and crossed his arms. “Yeah, so it freaked me out. But who cares? I’m over it now; can’t you guys see that?”

“They care. I care. All of us care. Bakugou, we just don’t want to scare you like that again. We don’t want to tickle you again until you’re comfortable with it.”

“Again – I’m being as obvious as I can.”

“But you’re not communicating with words.”

“Actions speak louder.”

Kirishima smiled sadly at him and shook his head. “Sorry, but this is one time you’ll have to actually talk to us.”

Bakugou glared. “You want me to ask for it?”

“That’s the only way we’ll know for sure that it’s okay.”

“Forget it.” The blonde turned on his heel and yanked open the door. “I’m not desperate like you were. I don’t even miss it. I don’t like being tickled anyway. Better for me!” Then he slammed it shut behind him and stormed right back to his own room, slamming that door, too.

Yet another thing Bakugou hated: he did miss it. For some stupid reason he couldn’t put his finger on, the thought of his friends never tickling him again actually bothered him. He couldn’t stand the thought of never being forced to chill out or cheer up, to laugh it all away without a care in the world.

They wanted him to ask? Yeah, right. It was like they didn’t know him at all.

A couple of nights later, Bakugou wandered around the dorms, looking for them. He figured they had to be together somewhere, since Denki had mentioned something about studying earlier. He looked all over the common areas and public gathering spots but came up empty. Finally, with a growl, he pulled out his phone.

Bakugou: Where are you all?

Kirishima: Sero’s room. Science. You in?

Sero’s room. The place it all began. Bakugou pocketed his phone and made his way to the dorm in question, lifting his hand to knock and then pausing. If I do this, there’s no taking it back, he thought, frowning. They’ll know I missed it. They’re idiots, but they’re not that stupid. He took a breath, let it out in a huff, and knocked. Screw it. They’ve already seen me at my weakest. I have nothing to lose.

Kirishima called to him from inside, and with that invitation, Bakugou swung open the door, closed it behind him, and announced, “Listen up, morons. I’m only going to say this once. What you did was awful and scary and I never want to go through it again, but I’m sick and tired of being on edge around you all the time. I want things to go back to the way they were before all this nonsense started, so just tickle me already, dang it!”

The room went dead silent.

Bakugou glared at the floor, waiting. He could feel the others looking at each other, trying to work out to say. It was driving him crazy, but he was determined not to beg them for it, so he stayed right where he was.

Finally, after a long minute, Mina spoke. “Bakugou…are you sure?”

The blonde stayed silent.

Sero spoke next. “We never had a chance to tell you properly, but we’re really sorry for what we did. We should have listened when you told us to stop. We should have respected your boundaries.”

The blonde pressed his lips together, not saying a word.

Next was Kaminari. “We talked about it, and we promised ourselves – and you by extension – that we wouldn’t tickle you again until you said you were comfortable with it. And we want you to think of a safe word, so we don’t accidentally go too far again.”

At this, Bakugou looked up. “A safe word? The heck?”

“Todoroki and I use one,” Kiri offered. “That way I can beg as much as I want to without him stopping, but as soon as I say the word he’ll stop. And vice versa, of course.”

Bakugou stared at the redhead. “You guys use a safe word? Seriously? What is it, ‘manly’?”

Kiri shot him a smirk. “That’s for us to know, I’m afraid. You’ll have to think of your own.”

The room went silent again as Bakugou looked away, silently contemplating how to go about getting them to tickle him again without actually asking for it. No way was he going to ask.

“Fine, whatever,” he said at last, stepping further into the room. “I’m giving you permission, morons. Don’t waste it. And I don’t give a crap what the safe word is. It can be ‘homework’ for all I care.”

“Ah-ah, can’t have that one,” Kiri said teasingly. “It’s taken.”

“Seriously? That’s what you went with?”

Mina hummed. “How about…red? It’s a classic stoplight scenario. Green for go, yellow for slow down, red for stop.” She and the others looked at Bakugou expectantly.

He nodded. “Yeah, fine. Red means stop. Like, seriously, stop.”

The others nodded as well. “Got it.”

Another silence fell; an awkward one this time. Kiri, Mina, and the others all looked at each other, then up at Bakugou’s looming form.

“Uh, so,” Denki asked, “did you want us to tickle you now?”

Bakugou grunted. “Well, it would be kind of stupid if you didn’t after getting all sentimental about it.”

Kiri stood up and approached him, grinning. For a moment Bakugou tensed and almost changed his mind, but then his friend took him by the shoulders and said, “Give us the magic word.”

“What? Green?” Bakugou frowned, then growled when it hit him what Kirishima meant. “You cannot be serious.”

“We’re completely serious. We said we wouldn’t until you asked. So if you want it, ask us.”

Bakugou grumbled under his breath, glanced his friends waiting hopefully for him on the floor, then at Kirishima’s beaming face, and finally – just this once – he caved.

“…please.”

Kiri chuckled. “Aww, you want us to tickle you that bad?”

“Do not start with me, you little – hey!” Bakugou threw his hands up to protect himself as he catapulted to the floor, tossed by Kiri’s strength directly into the waiting arms of the rest of their friends. No sooner had he landed than he felt fingers wiggling in his sides, stomach, and ribs, making him giggle involuntarily and curl up defensively. “Hehehehehehehey! Gahk! Pfft-wahahahait, wait, stahahahahahahap!”

“Say red if you mean it,” Mina teased, though her touch lightened slightly. “That’s why we wanted you to have a safe word, since you tell us to stop so much.”

“Agh! Wehehehehell I hahahahven’t said it yet, have I?” Bakugou shot back, squealing when someone brushed over his sweet spot. He blushed but refused to cover his face.

“Aww, he really does want us to tickle him!”

“Shuhuhuhuhuhut up, Pihihihinky! NO!!” Suddenly he began thrashing, feeling a jolt of both panic and excitement when someone else – presumably Sero – pulled his arms above his head and sat on them, pinning him down and exposing his worst spots all at once. Denki and Mina sat on either side of him, scribbling and tickling his sides, stomach, and ribs, while Sero reached over him to scratch at his underarms and Kirishima grabbed at his thighs, grinning like a gremlin. “Frick – no! At leheheheheast ehehehehehease me into it, ihihihihidiots!”

“But we’ve missed tickling you so much,” Mina cooed.

“And we have a lot of time to make up for,” Sero said.

“So you’d better get comfortable,” Denki teased, “because until you say ‘red,’ you’re going to be here for a while.”

All at once Bakugou was back at the moment that started this chain of events, pinned helplessly to the floor as his friends tickled him until he was screaming and laughing and begging for mercy. The difference now was that Kirishima was here, and all of them were being careful, and he had a way to get out of it this time.

If he really wanted to.

[extasiswings]

I can’t finish the second half of this yet, but I figured I would post the first.  Also on ao3. EDIT: PART 2 IS HERE. 

Eddie’s avoiding him.  

At first Buck brushed it off—Eddie wasn’t avoiding him, it was early in the morning, he needed coffee, he hadn’t slept well. It was a coincidence that Eddie was nowhere to be found as the sky shifted from hazy pre-dawn to full daylight.  A coincidence that Eddie just happened to walk out of every room Buck walked into, if he was in one at all.  

A locker shut too quickly.  A half-empty coffee cup left on the counter.  

By the time the first alarm of the shift goes off though, Buck’s starting to think he might have to face the inevitable.

“Where’s Eddie?”  Hen asks when he climbs into the truck.  “Aren’t you two usually attached at the hip?”

Buck forces a smile and shrugs.  “Guess not today.”

Eddie’s the last one in.  When he doesn’t give him more than a passing glance, Buck’s stomach twists.  

They make it through the morning without incident—or, rather, they make it through the morning with both of them successfully doing their jobs as Buck steals glances at Eddie every few minutes, unsuccessfully trying to get a read on him—but by the afternoon there really is no denying it.  

Eddie’s avoiding him.  And Buck doesn’t have the faintest idea why.  

“Eddie—”

When they pull back into the station, Eddie’s out of the truck first and Buck blows out a frustrated breath and calls after him.  He doesn’t stop, but Buck scrambles out and manages to catch up.

“You want to tell me what’s going on with you today?”  He asks when he finally manages to corner him in the locker room.

“Really don’t want to talk about it right now, Buck,” Eddie replies.  He seems to be looking anywhere except at Buck, his jaw tense, and Buck has never been more confused.  

“Well, we have another six hours on this shift, so…”  Buck trails off and waits, but Eddie doesn’t fill the silence.  Buck sighs.  “Seriously, what the hell is wrong?  I saw you a day and a half ago and we were fine, now you’re avoiding me and pissed off?”

“Yeah, remind me—how was watching Christopher the other day again?”

Buck pauses, feeling like he’s walking into a trap.

“It was fine?” Buck says slowly. “He was good, we had a good time.”

“Right, you said,” Eddie replies. “Neglected to mention the part where you told him I was out on a date though. Or the nice long conversation you had about it afterwards.”

And there’s the shoe dropping. Right into his stomach like a block of lead. Because, okay, yeah—maybe in the process of making conversation he had said so, it must be kinda weird having your dad out on a date and instead of saying yes or no Christopher had looked up from his coloring and asked dad’s what? And maybe that led to a very different conversation than Buck intended. And maybe he hadn’t mentioned it when Eddie came to pick Chris up, or afterwards, because Chris asked him not to.

...and maybe he’s just now realizing that was a big mistake.

“I didn’t know he didn’t know,” Buck says. “It’s not like it’s a secret—“

Eddie rakes a hand through his hair.  He still won’t look at him.

“We’ve been on five dates—five casual dates. It’s not serious—I don’t even know what it is yet—and I was going to tell him myself and answer any questions he had when it became something he needed to know about.”

Buck crosses his arms. “So it is a secret. Or was. At least from him.”

And maybe the judgment in his voice isn’t fair, maybe he’s projecting a little even though he knows that Eddie not telling Christopher he was dating and his own parents lying to him about his entire life are not remotely equatable, but it’s there in his tone and Eddie’s shoulders tense, his eyes narrowing as he finally meets Buck’s gaze.

“I don’t always tell him about absolutely everything that happens in my life immediately, especially when it doesn’t affect him,” Eddie replies, his own voice carefully even. “That doesn’t make me a bad parent.”

“I didn’t say—“

The alarm goes off and Buck swears under his breath.

Eddie brushes past him and Buck opens his mouth to call after him again.  But then he closes it, swearing again as he tries to shove everything down and follows after Eddie back to the truck.  

Hen looks between them as they get back in the truck, her eyebrows shooting up as she takes in the set of Eddie’s jaw and the way he’s staring pointedly out the window.  

“Everything...okay?”  She asks.

“Fine,” Buck replies, clicking his seatbelt and looking out the opposite window.  

Halfway to LAX, he decides to just apologize even if he doesn’t really understand what he’s apologizing for.  But then, in the time it takes to get the rest of the way there, he talks himself out of it again.  If Eddie wanted to date and hide it, that was one thing, but that didn’t mean Christopher didn’t have a right to know.  Who cares that he spilled the beans a little early?  If Eddie wanted him to babysit, he should have told him that he didn’t want Christopher to know why.  

Then they probably still would have fought about it, but then at least they wouldn’t be at work like this.  

They pull onto the tarmac and get out of the truck and everything is just fine until Bobby says—

“Buck, go help Eddie.”   

Eddie’s in the middle of giving a concussion check to the woman on the ground, but his shoulders tense slightly at Buck’s approach.

“How can I help?”  Buck asks.

Eddie clears his throat roughly.  “Can you grab that gurney, please?  I’ll need help lifting her.”  

They work in silence, Eddie sliding a backboard underneath the woman—their eyes meet for a brief moment as they lift the board up to the gurney.  And Buck hates it.  Hates the silence, hates the avoidance, hates the distance.  Normally, he wouldn’t get into this in the field, but they’re almost done anyway, so he can’t quite stop himself from saying—

“I know you’re a good dad.  That wasn’t what I meant.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow and glances pointedly down at their patient and back up at him as if to say really, you want to do this now?   

“Look, I—”  Buck blows out a frustrated breath and changes his mind again.  “I’m really not seeing the issue here.  If you want me to apologize, I’m sorry that I brought it up when Christopher didn’t know, but—”

“That’s not even half the point, Buck,” Eddie shoots back.  “You shouldn’t have been bringing it up at all.”

“He’s a kid, I figured he would have questions.”

“It’s not your place though, is it?  Because he’s not your kid!”  

Buck reels back like he’s been slapped.  The world falls out from under him as his throat closes up, and he catches the faintest flicker of regret across Eddie’s face before he adds—

“Besides, it’s not like I’m the only one of us who’s dating.  But you didn’t feel like you needed to talk to him about yourself, did you?”

Eddie’s wheeling the gurney off before Buck can untangle his tongue—or untwist his mind—enough to respond.  

Buck spends the rest of the shift in a fog replaying it all.  He considers asking Eddie what exactly that last remark was supposed to mean, but he can’t get past the sick hollowed out feeling in his gut, like he’s missed several steps walking down the stairs.  He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to expect—they’ve only had one major fight before, and that was during the lawsuit when Buck was fighting with everyone, and this is—

It feels even more personal than that had.  

Part of the problem is, he knows that Eddie isn’t wrong.  He didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.  

Christopher is Eddie’s kid.  And maybe the lines have gotten blurred because Buck spends so much time with them, because he’s right there next to Eddie more often than not, helping to make dinner and playing games and helping put Chris to bed and checking his homework—

But.  Christopher is Eddie’s kid.  At the end of the day, that’s it.  And logically, Buck knows that, so it shouldn’t sting so much to have that very real fact thrown back in his face, but...it does.    

No, he didn’t feel the need to talk to Chris about him dating because it’s a nonissue.  He’s not going anywhere, it’s not going to change anything, He’s only doing it at all because—

Buck’s climbing into the jeep at the end of the shift when he has the thought, and it’s too sudden for him to cut it off the way he normally would, to shove it down and pretend it’s not grating at his insides.

He’s only dating because Eddie is.  So that he has something to think about except the fact that Eddie is.  And the fact that he doesn’t want—

Buck blows out a breath and rakes a hand through his hair.  Then, he shoves his keys in the ignition and starts off home.

(It’s easier to date than to admit that he’s jealous of Ana Flores.  Because if he admits that...he doesn’t know where they go from there.)

[tails89]

Affirmation

Buddie - G - 1k

@sicktember day 2: persistent coughing/sniffing

Read on AO3

Buck glances up sharply, turning to watch Eddie across the room. He’s sitting with Chris, helping his son with his homework but every so often he makes this weird sound, like he’s trying not to cough but can’t quite hold it in.

Rolling his eyes, Buck turns back to his book. 

Chris had been the first one to crumble, taken out by a bug that had been doing the rounds at his school. Buck had followed shortly after and they had spent two miserable days curled up on the couch together watching movies. The only upside, as far as Buck was concerned, was that he’d got to hang with his two favourite people, even if he’d been feeling too sick to actually appreciate it at the time. 

Now Chris is back at school and Buck is back at work, but it looks like Eddie might have finally succumbed. Getting him to admit it is damn near impossible though. Buck’s got no idea why Eddie is so dead set against admitting he’s sick. 

Eddie’s voice cracks as he helps Chris work through one of his maths questions. The crack becomes a splutter, which becomes a cough and then Eddie is hacking into his elbow while Chris and Buck look on. 

Rising from the couch, Buck heads into the kitchen, filling a glass of water before returning to hand it to Eddie.

“Why don’t you take a break,” he suggests. “I can help Chris finish his homework.”

Chris and Eddie both shoot him twin looks of skepticism. 

“You’re going to help Chris with his math homework?” Eddie asks, taking a sip of the water. “Really?”

“It’s fifth grade math,” Buck counters, nudging Eddie up and away from the table. “How hard can it be?” He sits beside Chris. “Show me what you’ve got, bud.”

Chris takes him through his homework and Eddie disappears to the other end of the house. Buck suspects he’s trying to hide how awful he feels, but lets it drop, devoting all his attention to Chris. He’ll corner Eddie later about it.

“You can’t just use the calculator,” Chris tells him when Buck goes to plug the question into his phone. “Mr Willis said we’ve got to show our working.” 

“Okay, so you, uh —” Dropping his phone, Buck picks up the worksheet. “You start by— this is division right?”

Chris nods. “Yep, long division.” He takes the worksheet back. “Look.” He writes out the question and methodically moves through to it, explaining to Buck as he goes. “See! It’s seventeen!”

Buck looks down at the column of seemingly random numbers and then across at Chris’s grinning face. 

“I don’t suppose you have any English homework you need help with?” he asks hopefully. 

“No, I already did it,” Chris tells him, moving onto the next question.

“How about I just sit with you for moral support then?” Buck offers. “I’m not sure I’m going to be much help otherwise.”

“That’s okay,” Chris tells him, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “Dad’s not much help either.”

Buck laughs, reaching out to ruffle Chris’s hair. “You’re just too smart for the both of us.”

They both look towards the hallway as a series of sneezes followed by a barking cough echoes down from Eddie’s bedroom. 

Buck sighs and turns back to Chris. “What do you think my chances are of convincing your dad to stay home tomorrow?” he asks, fidgeting with one of Chris’s coloured pencils.

“Uh,” Chris glances up at him, lips pursed as he thinks about it. “Zero.” He turns back to his homework with an overexaggerated sigh. “And Dad says I’m stubborn.”

~

Eddie reappears as Buck is finishing up dinner. He puts up a valiant effort while they’re eating, keeping up a steady chatter with Chris but Buck can see that he’s fading quickly— his voice is little more than a hoarse croak and he’s pushing his dinner around on his plate instead of eating it. 

Buck takes pity on him, distracting Chris by asking him to help clear the plates away. It works for all of two seconds before Chris is back, leaning against Eddie with his arm around his Dad’s shoulders.

“Hey Dad?”

“Yeah kiddo?”

“Can we watch a movie?” 

Eddie hesitates, sniffles, and says, “I don’t know, kiddo. It’s a school night.”

Chris’s face falls. “But it’s still early,” he points out. “And I finished all my homework.”

Buck can see the reluctance painted across Eddie’s pale face. “Hey Chris, I think there’s some ice cream in the freezer, you think you can grab it for me?” He waits until Chris has disappeared into the kitchen before turning to Eddie. “I don’t mind watching something with him if you want to crash early.”

“Is it that obvious?” Eddie asks, smothering a cough with his elbow. 

“You look like shit,” Buck tells him with a smirk and starts gathering up the last of the dishes. “I’ll make sure he’s in bed by eight at the latest.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, nodding. “We can have a best bud night, only cool kids allowed so you wouldn’t be invited anyway.” Eddie looks up at him in wonder and Buck feels himself flush, still not used to this kind of attention.  “I— if that’s okay,” he tacks on nervously.

“Of course it’s okay,” Eddie reassures him. “I know you’re worried about stepping on my toes when it comes to Chris, but you really don’t need to be.” 

Eddie has managed to put Buck's fears into words. He loves Eddie, and he loves Chris, but he knows he’s not Chris’s parent and he doesn’t want to cross any lines.

 “You’re a part of this family Buck. Chris—” Eddie breaks off to cough into his arm. “Chris loves you. We both do.”

"I just—" Buck's voice cracks but not from illness.

"You're worried because you're stepping into this new role moving in with me and Chris," Eddie guesses.

"I don't want you to think I'm trying to replace Shannon."

"We both know you'd never do that," Eddie reminds him. "But don't diminish your role in Chris's life— in mine— because you're still an important part of it."

"I won't."

"Good." Eddie stands, pressing a kiss to Buck's temple. "Go enjoy your movie with Chris," he says, waving Buck towards the kitchen. “Just remember— once you fill him full of sugar, he’s your problem.”

[laviethepooh]

snowfall | iwaizumi hajime x reader

summary. iwaizumi walks you home in a snowstorm after oikawa breaks up with you

ft. iwaizumi hajime, oikawa tooru

cw. breakup, crying

wc. 1k

notes. haha, i successfully made reader gender neutral! honestly, i'm not totally happy with the ending, but i tried my best. this is my first piece in a while so it's not the best in terms of descriptions, sorry D: (maybe i shouldn't have rushed, but that's on me) constructive criticism is always welcome! hope you enjoy! <3

"we're done"

"w-what?"

the brunet looked up from his bag, scowling.

"i said, we're done."

too shocked to cry, too stunned to ask why, you just stood there.

you heard tooru sigh as he zipped up his bag. with a slight groan, he stood up in front of you. he grabbed you by the shoulders, moved you out of the way, and left the club room, leaving you alone.

you felt your legs buckle beneath you and you landed on your knees with a thud.

we’re done.

it was as if someone turned off a switch. you couldn’t hear. you couldn’t see. you couldn’t move. it couldn’t be true. you loved each other. you’d gone to all of his games. he’d look over all your photographs. what went happened? what did you do wrong?

if you fixed the issue, he’d come back.

right?

you shivered as you felt a cold draft come in through the open door. strange. when you wore tooru’s jacket it was never cold. the mere thought of his natural warmth spread a cozy feeling over you. the way his blazer was too large on you made you feel protected, even if it looked a bit weird.

you stiffened. a soft, white blazer was laid over your shoulders, instantly warming you up. did tooru return?

“get up, stupid.”

you turned around to see not tooru, but iwaizumi. his hair and winter jacket flecked with snow. like always, his eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at you. but this time he looked more worried.

you looked up at him with wide eyes, wondering what he was doing. practice had finished a while ago and all of the other teammates had left long before you arrived. perhaps he had left something, or maybe he noticed the light in the club room was still turned on. either way, here he was now.

“if you get sick, your boyfriend’s not gonna be too happy about it.” he said as he glared at you. the slight quirk in his brow revealed it was meant in a good-natured manner.

but you felt hot tears start to run down your face.

iwaizumi looked alarmed as he tried to get you to stop. he started looking around for tissues. he quickly gave up before squishing your face in his hands and demanding, “what happened? what’s wrong?”

you tried to talk, but you couldn’t get out any words before choking up again.

“come on,” iwaizumi grunted as he let go of your face, lifted you up from underneath your arms, and gently put your winter coat on you, “i’ll walk you home. this snowstorm’s only going to get worse and i can’t let you go on your own.”

as he started for the door, he turned back to see you still standing there. he let out a sign and took grab of your hand. you looked down in shock at the way his large, rough hands dwarfed yours. you tried to form words but didn’t have anything to say. instead, you responded by looking back up at him with large eyes that were still teary. he noticed your reaction and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

he opened his mouth as if he was about to speak, but stopped.

what was he about to say?

“hurry up, the snow’s coming down harder,” he said instead.

the walk home was silent. the only sounds were the occasional sniffle from you. there were few cars on the road and the snow started to lay on your surroundings, leaving the world white. you wanted to take out your camera, but you remembered that you were with iwaizumi. you didn’t want to keep him out in a storm any longer than he needed to be. he was kind enough to walk you home, you’d only be burdensome to ask him to wait.

it would probably only take a few more minutes to reach your home. luckily for the both of you, you and iwaizumi lived on the same street. tooru lived in the opposite direction from you, so he rarely ever walked home with you after school or practice. until now, you never realized how often you had walked home with iwaizumi. not that it mattered anyway.

you turned a corner and your home was now in view. after a few more steps, you could barely make out iwaizumi’s house. the snow was still coming down and the lights inside of your home were turned on. somehow, you had made it home.

“well, i guess i should get going now.” iwaizumi gave you a small smile. “get inside quickly, warm up, and rest. you need to look after yourself.”

“thank you, iwaizumi,” you replied as you returned the smile.

he began to leave, but turned around and hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“do you … want me to know what happened between you two?”

you froze.

iwaizumi was tooru’s best friend. he definitely had every right to know what happened and he’d probably rather hear it from tooru. besides, you didn’t really have the mental fortitude at the moment to tell him yourself. then again, maybe you needed to talk to someone about it. no. you shouldn’t involve iwaizumi in something like this. he’s tooru’s best friend.

iwaizumi seemed to notice your uncertainty.

“it’s alright, you can tell me about what happened some other time. i’m always here for you. i’m sure you or oikawa will tell me when you’re ready.”

he gave you an awkward pat on the back before saying goodbye and heading off. from your door, you could see his hooded figure rush through the snow into the comforts of his own house. you followed suit by entering your own home and sighing in content relief. you didn’t realize how cold you were until you came in.

as you took off your snow-covered coat to hang it up, you realized that you still had iwaizumi’s blazer still around your shoulders. you had forgotten that you had it on the whole time. the next day was a school day as well, so you figured you could probably return it while you leave the house. you left it next to your bag and went to wash up.

during dinner, your parents had asked you why your eyes were red and you responded with some excuse about the cold weather and the snow. after that, your parents decided to leave you alone. for the rest of the evening, you seemed to be on autodrive as you could barely remember doing your homework and getting ready for bed.

finally, you felt a wave of exhaustion come over you and you threw yourself onto your bed. it had been a long day and so much had happened. you were both emotionally and physically worn out. instead of crying yourself to sleep over your breakup like you expected you would, your mind was preoccupied with iwaizumi. as you thought about him, you felt your eyelids start to close and you fell into a deep slumber.

[luvspence]

prom night

synopsis: you and spence both never got your own prom, maybe this makes up for it

{a/n: i’m projecting a little bit bc i missed my prom, but i hope this isn’t too cheesy}

——-

the east coast was your home

born and raised in dc, school in new york, work in virginia

you wouldn’t have it any different

except for the fact that you lived less than 20 mins outside your childhood home

you loved being able to be close to your family, but it had its downsides

“y/n can you pick up your brother

y/n can you run to the store for me

y/n can you pick up my dry cleaning”

and it was like you were in high school all over again

on one occasion you were at home with your mom and your baby sister, delaney, she was 17, so not much of a baby anymore

“so what’s the hot gos” you said taking a bite out of your gronola bar and looking your sister down

“ew”

“dont ‘ew’ me”

“well i got asked to the prom yesterday”

your mom nearly dropped her pan

“NO WAY”

“yes way, is it so hard to believe that someone would like me? i’m not y/n for crying out loud”

you gave her a light punch on the arm

“NOT FUNNY”

she wasn’t far from wrong though, you were the classic “nerd”

15 years ago when you were in her place, at the exact same high school, you were never asked to prom, you were too busy in math olympiad or physics club to ever want to attend prom

but that was 15 years ago, now you lost the braces and the acne, got 2 degrees, and had a very lovely boyfriend of your own

“it is though, you’re lucky you found spencer, two dorks made for each other” she said taking a sip of her water

“you’re such a bitch”

15 year age gap aside, you were still very much, sisters

“y/n, do you mind chaperoning? that way we don’t have to pay for a ticket” your mom asked

your sister blurted out “oh my god NO”

you were laughing so hard, usually this is the kind of thing you’d pass on, but it torturing your sister was so so so worth it

“okay i’m game, see you prom night”

——

“spencerrrrrrr” you trailed on as you sat next to spencer on the couch, staring deep into his hazel eyes

“yes my love?”

“do you love meeeeeeee???”

spencer rolled his eyes, he knew this is how you asked him for a favors

“to the moon and back, why??????”

“okay look, my baby sister, delaney, is going to the prom and i’m chaperoning her, and she called me and you dorks so we have to get back at her by embarrassing the hell out of her at her prom”

spencer laughed

“you’re no better than a petty 17 year old”

you rolled your eyes “so can we?”

he looked at you, than his eyes trailed from the calendar to his watch to you again

“of course”

“yes!” you gave him a hug and planted a kiss on his cheek

“i love you so bad spencer reid!” you said as you ran around the apartment

“even more!” he replied

—

“incoming call from spencer reid”

“hey y/n?”

“yes love?”

“what color dress are you wearing tonight?”

“green, why?”

“no reason...”

he said before he hung up

you laughed to yourself “what a dork”

you continued to brush the mascara on your eyes, getting ready for your very first prom night

you came running down the stairs in a dark green ankle length dress, while spencer waited to pick you up

he was wearing a suit with a matching bow tie to your dress

“that’s why you asked the color! you look dashing by the by”

you said as you leaned over and gave him a cheek staining kiss

“and this” he said as he handed you a beautiful green corsage arrangement

“spencer! for me? this is gorgeous”

you said as you slipped it onto your wrist

“yeah, penelope knows a guy”

“of course she does, and thank you! i can’t believe you’d go through all of this for me on fake prom” you said as he started driving toward your parents house

“hey this prom is not fake at all to me, i’ve never been to prom before”

you shrugged “me neither, i always thought it was dumb anyway”

“this is sort of embarrassing” spencer said scratching his head

“come on spencer it’s just me”

“okay, you know i went to highschool very young, i hadn’t even gone through puberty. i was the smallest guy in the class and that wasn’t purely based on my age. i was scrawny. but i had this grand idea of going to prom with the most beautiful girl. and i’d be all tal and handsome at that point, and i’d walk into that dance and stick it to all my bullies”

“that not embarrassing! i wish i wanted to go to prom like that. i guess i was too pretentious to go, i was an all star intellectual, there was no way i’d show my face at an event like prom”

“yeah, so i guess we both get do overs. and i get to live my prom dream. now i’m tall, and i have a beatiful girl by my side” he said as he smiled at you

“have i ever told you i love you?”

“not enough” he smiled as he pulled into your parents drive way

you got out of your car to wait inside with your sister for her date to arrive

eventually a tall girl with a equally as beautiful corsage in her hand ended up nervously swaying on the front door and she rang the door bell

spencer answered

“hi!”

“h-hi, mr. y/l/n” she said in a nevrous tone

spencer laughed out loud and you went to intervene

“oh my yeah he’s just my boyfriend, hi i’m delaney’s older sister y/n. no need to be nervous, there’s no dad around here. just a lot of siblings, my mom and my boyfriend!” you said as you welcomed her into the house

delaney went to take the corsage from her date, melanie

your mom lined you spencer and your sister and melanie up for what felt like 800 pictures before you finally decided to get into spencers car to the dance

in the car you turned around to the girls

“sooooo, how’d y’all meet”

delaney burried her head into her knees in embarrassment while her date explained

“well she was in my physics class, and it all went from there”

“physics!!! i love physics, is mr. scott still there?”

“yup he’s our teacher”

“sick” you said to yourself, reminiscing about your days in high school

eventually you pulled into your highschool parking lot, hooking arms with spencer as you walked toward then gym

“god does this bring me back”

you said to him

your sister whispered to her date “god she’s so old”

“HEY DELANY I HEARD THAT”

she gave you the stink eye and whispered in your ear

“please get as far away from me as possible”

all you did was nod as you watched the two of them skip into their dance

you looked up at spencer

“god you’re so cute, i wish i had you here in high school”

“i’m sure you had your boys”

“from the physics club? right”

you walked into the fully decorated gym, wandering around from the punch bowl to the photo booth, you and spencer watching the floor of kids dance to their hearts content

“i think i know why i skipped this in highschool”

spencer laughed

“ i would have killed to be in this very position when i was in high school”

you wrapped your arms around his neck and looked him in the eyes

“killed to be in prom in the first place or to be here with me?”

“with your of course”

he said as he met your lips for a kiss

obviously bringing spencer was a bad idea for your sabotage delany plan, because you got way too distracted with spencer by your side

you spent the entire night talking to him, dancing with him to the slow songs, taking funny pictures in the photo booth

high school stuff you guess

eventually when all the kids were slow dancing, you looked up at spencer

“wanna make a break for it?”

he didn’t know what that meant, but if it was with you he’d do it, so he just nodded and followed you outside

you buried your head into his shoulder as you walked around the campus you grew up on, pointing to the points of interest

you pointed to a big oak tree with seat like roots under it

“that’s where we used have physics club meetings”

then you pointed to a hidden patch behind all the bushes

“this is where i traded homework for money”

he just nodded as you told the stories of your high school experience

you pointed to some old looking railings with a tree standing view it

“that’s where i had my first kiss”

“HUH! i thought you said you got no boys, physics club and all”

“yeah you’re right” you said as you settled on one of the bleacher, overlooking the field and the night sky, spencer joining you

your fancy dress hitting the dirt of the baseball field, the cold april night making you shiver, and spencer putting his blazer coat over you

“you’re right, i didn’t get any boys in high school” you sighed as you cuddled into his arm

“my first kiss was with dylan watson, he was mr blue eyes blonde hair, baseball and perfect social status. and you know i was, braces glasses and physics”

he laughed as you continued to tell the story

“but yeah one day he slipped me a note, i figured he just wanted homework. but he said to meet him there after school. so i did, and he confessed tht he loved me, and wanted to be my boyfriend. and of course i said yes. and the he kissed me. it was the best moment of my life up until then. but as soon as he pulled away he yelled ‘you got that?’”

“oh no” spencer said, listening intently

“oh yes, his buddies had be filming, then they put me on plays all around the entire school, showing the video to everyone. so yeah, that’s why i never want to the prom. i guess it might have been bc i was a nerd, but also because i never wanted to show my face to those kids anymore” you said as you sighed

“you know, i had a similar experience where a pretty girl told me the same thing, but instead the entire school stripped me to my underwear and tied me to a pole. it was awful”

“oh my goodness that’s terrible” you said

“well i guess high school bullying makes great profilers?” yoy laughed

“maybe. i think it also develops character well i’m general too. and hey! you got your first kiss out of it”

“yeah, but high school was the worst, i wish i could tell my 17 year old self that it would get better”

“me too” he said

he said as he tucked his chin into your head and looked up at the stars, faint music echoing from the gym and the sound of your cold shakey breath

“y/n, i’m just glad we got to spend our prom night together”

[milstrim]

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 4: Uninvited

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

---

Peter didn't really wake up the next morning, because he hadn't really fallen asleep last night. He'd been incredibly tired, but his hair hadn't been able to lay flat and he hadn't been able to block out the overwhelmingly disgusting smell of Mr. Fowler's closet. He'd been it the entirety of the day and even throughout the night when Mr. Fowler stomped into the room and passed out on the bed. The lilting stumbles in his steps made Peter think he'd been drunk and had likely forgotten about the kid trapped in his closet.

So he hadn't really slept, but his eyes had been closed--the darkness of his eyes was better than that of the closet--until the door had finally swung open, allowing Peter his first full breath in almost a whole day. The dankness of Mr. Fowler's room was a thousand times better than the closet. An arm had grabbed his own, pulling him roughly to his feet and out of the closet. His legs had ached with the disuse, but he'd stumbled to his feet nonetheless.

"Are you going to talk back to me again, son?" Mr. Fowler had asked, a horrible pleasantness to his voice. Peter had shaken his head. Something had been shoved into his hands, and he'd fumbled only to realize it was his wallet. "There. The card doesn't work anymore, so you can have that piece of shit back. Now get out of here."

"O-okay. Thank you," he'd said, stumbling out of the room and into the bathroom that he'd been deprived of for almost twenty-four hours. Once he'd finished and washed his hands, he'd searched through his wallet.

His few crumpled bills had been taken, but the pictures stuffed inside had been left alone, and the black card had sat crammed in a pocket. He'd grabbed it with fumbling fingers, brows furrowing. It didn't work anymore? Had the man maxed it out? Peter had swallowed, a pit forming in his stomach as he thought about what the hell he'd bought to do that. Probably a lot of alcohol had been his guess.

He really, really hoped that Mr. Stark couldn't see his purchases.

After a quick shower, in which he'd had to sit down his vision had swam so much, he'd rushed out the door with his beaten up backpack swinging off of his shoulder. He knew he probably should have stayed to check on the other kids who'd had to listen to the fight last night and might need help with homework, but the teenager couldn't stand to be in that house for any longer. Everything smelled like Mr. Fowler's awful closet and he just needed to be out in the bright Sunday sun. He wanted to find just a little comfort in his shadow that he'd been deprived of the night before.

So he'd changed into his suit and swung around for most of the day, flipping for some overly excited middle schoolers and directing an old man from Ukraine visiting his son who lived in Harlem and ignoring the pain in his stomach. When there was a lull in the late afternoon, he strung a web between two buildings and just did as many daring flips and handstands as he could. It was a feeble attempt to distract himself from the events of the past few days.

Hits and threats from Mr. Fowler were nothing new, in fact, they were a staple in the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, but last night had been different. He'd never been trapped like that in the group home. He'd always had a lot of free reign as long as he operated within the curfew and got his chores done, but yesterday was like someone had flipped a switch on that, and he was still reeling from the terror.

Or that could be the hunger eating through his stomach. Peter stopped flipping on the web for a moment, instead laying down and balancing himself on the thin string as his stomach growled so hard he flinched. He wouldn't even be getting anything today. When did his grounding end again? He was pretty sure it was Thursday, but he wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Fowler extended it after last night. Maybe he could stop by Ned's and get a granola bar or something.

The teenager looked down at the ground to stare at Mr. Stark's shadow, blinking as he realized it was no longer clothed in normal attire, or a sharp business suit, but rather the larger outline of what he could now identify as the Iron Man armor. He narrowed his eyes, wondering what the man must be doing. Probably something really important.

Peter sighed, moving to sit up, when a sound made him pause. He cocked his head before finally turning in the direction of the mechanical whine to make out the Iron Man suit flying towards him.

Huh.

He tried to feign disinterest, laying back down on the web and placing his hands underneath his head as the suit landed on the nearest building rooftop and Mr. Stark stepped out, but Peter couldn't lie to himself about how excited he really was to see the man.

"Hey, Mr. Stark," he greeted from the web.

"Hey, kid."

"Um, thanks for the letter." Please don't ask about the card. Please don't ask about the card. "Are you sure about the phone, though? I mean, that thing looks like it could cost as much as a house."

"Keep it, kid, I gave it to you for a reason," Mr. Stark said, waving him off. Peter watched him warily as he sat down on the edge of the building, shuffling nervously. Peter smiled to see the man very clearly out of his element, as if he would let him fall anyway. "So, how's your day been?"

Peter shrugged. "Fine."

"No hangovers or anything?" Peter froze. "Can you even get drunk? Cap can't."

The teenager hesitated before answering. It was either 'I bought a bunch of adult stuff with your credit card' or 'My foster father bought a bunch of adult stuff with your credit card.' He wasn't sure which one was better, but there didn't seem to be much to win from lying, not that there was much to gain from telling the truth either.

"I don't know," Peter responded honestly as he sat up on the web to stare at the shadow on the ground. The imitation felt more comforting than the real thing at that moment.

"You don't know? You bought three hundred dollars of pure liquor."

"Three hundred--Oh, jeez. I'm really sorry, Mr. Stark."

Mr. Stark blinked at him for a second before his gaze softened.

"You didn't buy any of that stuff, did you?" Peter shook his head. "Who? Andrew Fowler?" A moment. A nod. "Okay, I'll just deactivate that card and give you a new one."

"No, it's fine, Mr. Stark," Peter said, pulling his wallet out of his hoodie pocket and showing him the black card. "He gave it back. I think he was annoyed that it was, like, maxed out or something."

"Well, it is most definitely not maxed out--there's a lot more than three hundred on that, kid--but I'm glad you got it back."

"Thanks."

There was a minute of awkward silence before Mr. Stark rolled his shoulders and sat up straighter.

"So, no tower yesterday?"

Peter suddenly remembered the little note at the end of his letter. He shrugged bashfully, mumbling, "Yeah, sorry, uh Mr--Mr. Fowler kept us pretty busy yesterday. Chore day, so."

"Wanna stop by now?"

Peter looked up at him in surprise. It was a wonder this man didn't hate him yet. The foster parents Peter had before Mr. Fowler had gotten sick of him pretty quickly, or just hadn't been very attached in the first place, while the majority of his teachers regarded him with either pity or disdain at his situation and record. As far as Mr. Stark knew, he had an accident-prone, snotty teenager as a soulmate whose favorite pass time was to be a juvenile delinquent.

And yet, the mechanic regarded him with a soft smile. A little strained, but welcoming nonetheless. It unfurled something in his chest.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Yeah!--I mean, sure sure, that'd be fun." Mr. Stark gave him an amused smile as the teenager stepped off of his web and onto the roof of the building. With a quick glance and a rare smile, Peter leaped off the roof, enjoying the way Mr. Stark yelped in surprise. Peter called, "Beat you there!!"

He did not, in fact, beat Mr. Stark to the tower. To be fair, the man was in a suit that flew faster than a jet and Peter was only propelled by physics and muscles.

The teenager watched from a short distance as the Iron Man suit paused in front of a higher point in the tower, faced him for a moment, and then dove through the window. He raised an eyebrow, but doubled down in catching up to the man, only barely managing to swing himself high enough so that he wouldn't have to crawl his way up more than a couple of stories.

Finally, just a few minutes later than Mr. Stark, he rolled through the window and landed hard on the floor just a little unsteadily, not that he cared in the slightest. There were much more interesting things to care about in that moment.

"Whoa..."

"You like it?" Mr. Stark called from across the lab. Peter nodded dumbly, staring, widemouthed, at the state of the art equipment decorating just about every inch of the room. There were cases of Iron Man armor lining the walls, robots rolling around--he managed a laugh at one with a dunce cap sweeping the ground with a broom inefficiently--and tables filled with projects Peter couldn't even begin to dream of. "You can take your mask off here, kid. No one's going to see you."

Mr. Stark's voice pulled him back to reality, drawing him further into the room hesitantly. He glanced at the man, but realized dimly that his spider sense had finally calmed down. This wasn't the danger he'd felt after being fished out of the lake, or the feeling that had been following him since, it was a normal calm mixed with just a hint of nerves.

He tugged his mask off.

Mr. Stark stared at him, a soft look on his face, before finally tearing his gaze away when Peter shuffled uncomfortably.

"Sorry, kid," he apologized. "Didn't mean to freak you out. Just..."

"Just what?"

"It's just nice to see you, Peter."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he just offered the billionaire a strained smile and stepped over to the desk the man was standing at. He felt more than a little out of place, but his curiosity overwhelmed his discomfort as he glanced over a shiny metal case held lightly in the billionaire's hands in interest. Mr. Stark tapped it when he caught the boy looking.

"This, kid," he said, sliding it over, "is for you."

Peter caught it effortlessly, his fingers light and hesitant as he glanced from it to Mr. Stark, his head down.

"I can't accept this, Mr. Stark. You already--"

Mr. Stark interrupted by reaching over and pressing something on the case. It sprang open, spooking Peter enough for him to take a step back but holding his attention as he caught sight of the bright red fabric. The eyes were what really caught his attention, looking unreasonably cool and intimidating. Peter mumbled, "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen."

Mr. Stark chuckled. "Good thing it's yours."

"It's--" He gaped at the man. "Mr. Stark, I really can't accept--"

"Too bad," he interrupted. "It's a gift and it's rude to turn down a gift. So, there's a bathroom right over there if you want to try it on. Give it a whirl?"

After a moment of hesitation, he closed the case, thanked Mr. Stark, and headed to the bathroom to change.

  ---

When Peter stepped out of the bathroom in the new suit, Tony couldn't help but frown. He covered it up as quickly as possible, but the sentiment still remained as his eyes roamed over the kid. He was muscular, sure, but he was so thin that it practically hurt. The teenager's ribs were practically there just for him to count and worry about. He filed it away for later as Peter turned to look at him, the mask's eyes narrowing.

"Looking good, hotshot," Tony said. "How's it feel?"

"It's awesome, Mr. Stark," Peter responded, his hands held out in front of him as he tapped the webshooters. "It smells like a new car!"

Tony couldn't help his laugh. "If you think that's cool, just wait. Friday, Babysitter Protocol."

"Babysitter--" Peter cut off with a confused yelp as his suit lit up blue, the AI in his suit supposedly greeting him. The kid cocked his head. "Oh, hi. Nice to meet you too."

Tony turned away, letting the kid and the AI get acquainted as he pulled out his phone and ordered a few pizzas. Five might be enough. Steve had always eaten a lot, and even if he didn't manage to burn through the best pizza in the city, the kid could definitely use leftovers. He entered the order and shifted back to observe the kid again.

"--uh, Liz? No, no, that's weird. How about Karen?" A moment as he waited for a response. "Fun. Nice. Cool, this is so cool."

Tony smiled, unable to tear his eyes away from the kid. His soulmate. His little shadow. 

Peter turned to look at him after a few minutes, muttering a quick goodbye to the AI--Karen, he guessed--before tugging the mask off again. There was a hesitant smile tugging at his thin face. Much too thin. How many pizzas would it take to get the kid back to even a semi-healthy weight? Probably way too many.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Stark," Peter said. "I really can't thank you enough."

"Please, you can thank me by not thanking me. Pepper says my ego's already a little off of the charts." Peter laughed and Tony couldn't help his grin. "Wanna stay over for dinner? I ordered pizza."

Peter hesitated, but after a moment he answered, "Alright," which was so much better than the kid regarding him defensively or looking like he was constantly on the edge of running away again. And, as it turned out, Peter fit more easily into his life than he could have thought.

In barely thirty minutes, the kid was sat beside him at a desk filled with vials of web fluid and pieces of Iron Man armor, an old, frayed hoodie of Tony's slipped over the suit, and a stack of freshly baked pizza laid out in front of them. Peter sat in the chair next to him as the mechanic ran through the schematics of his suit, hanging on every single word.

"...most of the framing is between the protective layers of your suit, completely waterproof by the way, if you ever get yourself into another lake. You also have a parachute if you pass the three thousand feet threshold."

Peter glanced over his shoulder in surprise. "There's a parachute in this thing? How?"

Tony tapped his back where he knew the spider logo was. "A magician never reveals their secrets."

"Did you compress all the air out of it? Or build it into the wiring on the patch on my back somehow?"

"Both are true." He took a bite of pizza. "You're pretty smart, huh?"

Peter ducked his head with a shrug. "Sorta. I can figure out chemistry, but that's about it."

"I don't believe that for a second, but we'll stick with the modesty for now." Peter huffed out a laugh, spinning the hologram of his suit and staring at it in complete adoration. It dragged a smile onto Tony's face.

Peter had a sort of ruggedness to him, a desperate scrappiness, but it was embarrassingly easy to see that that wasn't all there was to the teenager. His rambles were fast and excited, his scarce smiles adorably bright and always lighting up his doe eyes. There was a kind of spark to Peter that Tony couldn't explain, and, though he was sorry that the kid was saddled with him, he couldn't have wished for a better soulmate.

Apparently, five pizzas ended up being a great number, because Peter ate everything Tony offered him. He was practically a human garbage disposal, though much more polite. Tony was glad that the kid was filling up, but it made him seriously question how much he was getting at that group home. After letting the kid get comfortable for about an hour, he voiced it.

"Do they feed you where you live, kid? I swear, you just put down over ten thousand calories."

Peter paused on the slice he was eating, swallowing before putting it back on the plate nervously, and Tony immediately regretted ever opening his big, fat mouth.

"Yeah. They--Mr. Fowler feeds us fine. Just, enhanced metabolism, so." He shrugged. It was said so nervously that it felt like an outright lie, but Tony left it alone.

"Okay. Good to know. Just make sure to use that card whenever you get hungry, kid. I'm not having my soulmate starve."

At his mention of being soulmates, Peter glanced over his shoulder to stare at their shadows. Right now they almost looked like their own shadows, mirror images of each other, but if you looked hard enough you could see the slight difference in hair texture and the distinctive widths of their shoulders.

"It must've been weird," Peter said. Tony glanced at him in confusion. "Not having a shadow. You didn't get one until I was born, right?"

"Oh. Yeah," Tony agreed. He swallowed as he admitted, "Thought I was broken for the longest time. It was the best day of my life when your tiny little baby shadow appeared at my feet... What about you? Always had a grown man following you around, huh?"

"That sounded creepy, Mr. Stark." Tony just grinned cheekily. "It was nice, actually, always having you there. Like--like a guardian or something."

"And now you've got the real thing." Peter rolled his eyes and Tony pointed at him. "Ah, there's that good ol' sass I was looking for. I was afraid I'd lost it."

"Uhuh. You're kinda weird, Mr. Stark."

"Right back at you, little shadow." Peter smiled at the nickname before glancing out the window where the sky was a deep russet red. "Time for you to head out?"

"Yeah. I've still got some homework to do."

The two stood up and walked over to the window. Peter moved to take the hoodie he'd been wearing off, but Tony stopped him. "Keep it. I've got plenty."

"Oh, thanks, Mr. Stark."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm so generous. Have fun with the suit, kid, I'll see you soon."

"When?"

Tony paused, looking over at the kid who had only just begun to pull the mask over his head, hopeful eyes staring at him. He desperately wanted to tell the kid he'd pick him up from school tomorrow so that they could hang out in the lab again, but he knew he genuinely didn't have any time. He'd been putting off packing for a few too many days.

"After we move. I'll pick you up from school on Friday. We can go explore the compound together. Sound good?"

Peter nodded. "Yep. Real good, Mr. Stark."

"You can call me Tony, Mr. Parker," he joked.

Peter pulled the mask down and jumped out the window with a call of. "See you Friday, Mr. Stark!"

Tony's shoulders shook with laughter.

  ---

Friday. Peter couldn't wait for Friday. With a burst of excitement and energy he hadn't had in a while, Peter flipped in the air and let out a WHOOO! only catching himself at the last second before flipping back up.

"Wow, this suit is so intuitive!" he exclaimed, shooting another web.

"I am glad you think so, Peter," Karen responded, shocking him so bad he nearly let go of his web. Oh, yeah, he'd forgotten he had an AI now. Man, Mr. Stark was so cool. "I am currently taking feedback for the suit's systems in case anything needs to be changed on Friday. Would you like to rate the suit's webshooters?"

"Oh, full eleven out of ten, Karen. It's great."

"Thank you for the feedback, Peter, I have sent a note to Mr. Stark."

"Oh." Peter blushed. "You didn't have to tell him that, Karen."

"Why not? He has asked for feedback."

"No, it's not--" He cut himself off, sighing as he flipped himself into a large arc. "I just don't want to bother him. He's already been so nice to me."

"Mr. Stark has asked for feedback, Peter."

"It's not the--it's not the feedback, Karen," he tried to explain.

"I do not understand."

He spluttered and then sighed, waving it off. "Whatever. It's fine, Karen, just forget it."

"Of course, Peter. Would you like me to show you the quickest route home?"

Peter hesitated. He did have a lot of homework to do, and Eric probably needed help with his reading, but he had to swallow down fear at the thought of being in the same room as Mr. Fowler again. It was irrational--it was so stupid--and Peter knew it, but he couldn't stop the way his hands seemed to shake and his entire body quail.

"Actually, let's take the scenic route. Really test out the suit, y'know?"

"Of course, Peter. Planning now."

A blue line appeared on screen, leading Peter back to the group home. He muttered, "So cool."

Spider-Man was only halfway back to the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, finally across the bridge and back into his home territory, when his spider sense went off again. He immediately glanced down at his shadow, which had lengthened as the sun set, for some kind of comfort or guidance. But of course, there wasn't one. It was just a shadow.

A little put off by the shiver that had run down his spine, he attached himself to the side of the building, staring out over the street. Nothing too out of the normal. People hurrying on the sidewalk, cars honking down the street, and shadows following along aimlessly.

"Karen. What's going on?"

"What do you mean, Peter?" the AI asked.

"It's just--there's something wrong. Maybe--" At a second shiver up his spine, Peter turned to look at where his senses were directing him at the ringing of a bell.

It was a small bodega, its door swung open as two men stepped inside in unreasonably thick coats for the warm weather. He narrowed his eyes, and the suit zoomed in with him, scanning the men before they disappeared through the door.

"What's the time, Karen?"

"7:30."

"Alright, we're good then. Plenty of time." He swung over to the bodega, attaching himself to the wall above the door, out of sight of the occupants inside. His senses had yet to calm down, so he assumed that he was right about this being a robbery. "Ready to test out the suit, Karry Berry?"

"I am always ready, Peter."

"Y'know, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

"Does that mean I should assign you a nickname too?"

"Definitely! Think about it for a moment and get back to me after we do this," Peter exclaimed in an excited mumble, straining his ears to hear whatever was going on inside. There was the tense calm of nothing for a moment, and then a shuffle and a squeak followed by a spike in his senses. He muttered to himself. "Finally."

He kept his ears strained on the actions going on inside, dropping down in front of the door quietly to watch what was happening. There was a teenager at the register, her hands fumbling with the register while the two men from earlier in their dark coats pointed shotguns at her. He could see tears streaming down the girl's face, clearly terrified.

Peter crept forward, picking up on the muttered conversation inside.

"--just open the register, keep it quiet," the closest man said in a raspy voice. "Hand everything over nice and quick."

"It's--it doesn't open," the girl cried. "It doesn't open unless a purchase is made and--"

The man flinched forward. "Do I look like I care? Just open it!"

Finally having heard enough, Peter placed his fingers against the door and pulled it open as quietly as possible.

Ding!

Peter froze. Heads turned. Curses flew.

The superhero darted forward as the gun pointed at him, firing a shot that missed him completely as he dove behind a grocery aisle of gummies and pregnancy tests. Bodegas really were something. Peter crouched down, muttering under his breath, "Fuck that stupid bell."

"Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark to your predicament?" Karen asked.

"What? No! I can deal with this, Karen, just watch."

"I like the new look," came the voice of the man that had shot at him. "New government sugar daddy or something?"

Peter blanched. "I really wish that that would stop being people's first assumption. People can be platonic y'know!"

There was a scoff and the sound of something warping. Peter's eyes narrowed, peeking around the grocery shelf and then immediately ducking back. The man, the one who hadn't shot at him, had pulled out a large and glowing weapon that looked incredibly similar to the one that had been at the ATM robbery. Man, he was getting really sick of those things.

The teenage girl had looked okay, shivering behind the desk and thankfully not making any moves to alert the police, as far as he could tell anyway. The last thing he needed was cops showing up in such a tense situation. And his first time using the new suit! That would be just plain embarrassing.

"Platonic or not, I don't give a shit," Normal Gun Man said. "A new look isn't going to change your situation. So either come out, or we shoot you."

"I don't know if you can shoot me while I'm back here soooo."

There was a click and a squeak. "Yeah? What about her?"

Okay. So that was a little different.

Without hesitation, Peter stepped out from behind the aisle shelf, his arms raised half-heartedly in the air. The two men had ski masks over their face--not quite as fun as the Avengers masks, but it'd do--but he could still see the honestly nervous smile of the man holding the gun. Clearly he hadn't expected the arrival of Queens favorite vigilante.

"Good to know that you can comply," Normal Gun Guy said. Alien Gun Guy had the weird blue gun pointed at Peter, but the shotgun was still directed at the worker. He chose his target.

"Not really."

With a flick, he webbed the shotgun and slammed it into the wall. There was a startled scream at the same moment his hairs stood on end. Peter only managed to jump forward before he was encased in a blue light that gave him quite possibly the worst headache of his entire life. He hated the feeling of that stupid thing. He didn't quite know what it was, but it felt like something out of The Incredibles. Like Syndrome and shit.

"Ugh! This thing is so weird!" Peter complained in a warped yell. Alien Gun Guy gave him a brutish look and then swung him through the window.

Peter grunted as he crashed through the window, wincing at the clinking shatter of glass that broke under him, but, surprisingly, none of the glass managed to grab at him and slice through his skin, even as he was shot across the street from the force of the alien weapon, only stopping when he thudded against the wall. He groaned as the air was forced out of him.

At least the suit had kept him from getting cut.

"Ugh... The hell." The teenager shook his head, forcing himself back to his feet, clinging to the wall for just a moment as he blinked out dizziness. Remembering himself, he turned back to the bodega across the street, panicking when his head pounded. That wasn't from being hit, that was his spider sense.

The men ran out of the door, hulking along a cash register and a handful of cigarette packs, but the teenage girl had yet to leave and his head only pounded harder. Spider-Man dashed across the road, leaping through the already broken window, his breath catching as he caught sight of the purple thing sitting on the ground in the middle of the bodega. It whined, louder and louder.

Bomb. Bomb!

Peter's head shot around so fast he physically winced, but he caught sight of the teenager behind the counter. Working on instinct, he jumped over the counter as the whine reached its apex, wrapping his arms around the girl and pushing himself between her and the bomb. He squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as possible, gritting his teeth.

The world shook and she let out a surprised cry into his shoulder but didn't let go. Peter barely managed to hold down a whimper of fear. Be brave, be a hero. Be brave, be a hero. He could do it. He was fine.

He was fine.

Peter blinked his eyes open, moving carefully to peer over the counter.

"Dammit," he muttered. The rest of the windows had shattered, and just about every product in the store had been knocked back and now littered the ground. A tile fell from the ceiling, making him tense his shoulders. They'd gotten away. Some hero he was.

"I have a nickname for you, Peter," Karen said in his ear. He frowned in annoyance. Well, he had told her to tell him once the situation was over.

"Great," he snapped, stepping over the counter, his boot crunching on the glass. "What is it?"

"Peter-butter!"

"...Okay that's actually pretty good."

  ---

After double checking that the cashier was alright, Peter had fled the scene, cursing himself for how bad it had gone. Nobody had died, but that wasn't really the standard he was looking for. If anything, he'd really just made everything worse. Stupid, Parker, stupid!

The teenager sighed, dipping into the dark alleyway where his backpack had been left earlier. He grabbed it from under the crate of boxes where he'd hidden it, pressing the spider emblem on his chest, allowing the suit to cascade off of him. Frustrated, Peter ripped the mask off and untangled himself from the fabric at his feet, stuffing the items in his faded blue bag and jumping back into his own clothes, and, after a moment of hesitation, slipped into the hoodie that Mr. Stark had given him.

He pulled the bag over his shoulder and buried his hands into his pockets as he stepped out of the alleyway and back onto the streets in the direction of the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys. His brows were furrowed and his face squished into a deep frown. He couldn't believe he'd been given a superhero suit by literally Iron Man and he'd screwed it up immediately. He chittered nervously at the thought of Mr. Stark seeing what had happened at the bodega and realizing just how shit of a superhero his soulmate was.

As he was debating the likely-hood of Mr. Stark taking the suit back and never talking to him again for his screw up, his phone buzzed. Hesitantly, Peter pulled it out to find two texts waiting for him. One from Ned and one from Mr. Stark.

He clicked on the one from Ned first. The text app opened up to show Peter a grainy picture of him in his new suit followed by Ned's message of 'Excuse me??? tf is this?? tell me everything rn or im going to die'

Peter smiled faintly, making a mental note to call his friend in a few minutes. With a deep breath, he clicked on Mr. Stark's message.

Mr. Stark: I saw the news. You okay?

Peter blinked. He wasn't mad? He chewed on his lip as he sent a response, 'All good. Sorry I freaked you out.' 

Mr. Stark texted back almost immediately, 'No problem. Just glad you're good. Text ya later, kiddo.'

And that was that, Peter supposed. No...no nothing, really. He'd expected a lot more resistance or opposition from the billionaire, but he wasn't mad that he hadn't gotten any. He was about to call Ned when his phone buzzed again.

Mr. Stark: 'P.S. You can talk to and text Karen through your phone. Knock yourself out, Peter-butter.'

Well, that was embarrassing. But still kinda cool.

With a shake of his head, he finally dialed Ned's number. His friend only picked up after two rings with a breathless greeting.

"Yo, what the hell is up with that suit? Did Mr. Stark make it for you? Are you super hero buddies now!!? Officially his sidekick!!?"

Peter smiled, shaking his head in amusement as he stopped at a streetlight. "Yeah, Mr. Stark made it for me. It's cool right? It even has an AI!"

"It has an AI!!? Please, please, tell me you'll let me look at it."

"Duh. Yeah, you can look at it. We can go to your house after school." Peter thought for a moment, thinking of the alien weapons. He'd messed up today, probably disappointed Mr. Stark, but if he could take the whole operation down... "Besides, I need your help with something."

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8