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yeetwinchester2 · 4 years ago

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The Son He Never Got...

Pairing: Steve Rogers x daughter!reader, Bucky Barnes x Rogers!reader (platonic), Peter is there but no real relationship between the reader and him.

Warnings: abandonment-ish??, ✨daddy issues✨, angst, more angst, thoughts of not being good enough, blah blah blah, I think you get it. steve's not really the good guy here. Bucky fluff

Requested: yes/no "Prompts 1, 2, 13 and 14 with Steve Rogers x daughter!reader" #1: "Why would you do that?” #2: “I can’t believe it...” #13: “I hate you.” #14: “Go to Hell.” I don't think I included all of the quotes that were requested... but they'll be there in the next part or two.

Summary: When a boy named Peter Parker shows up as a new recruit, Steve starts spending more time with him. The reader notices, but Steve doesn’t. Bucky is helpful :)

A/N: Thank you for the request!! This is (maybe) the second request that I’ve actually completed :) I hope it's alright!!

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Turning off your alarm, you get out of bed and get dressed for school. Today you were supposed to have a father-daughter date with your dad after school. You decided to wear a plain black flowy shirt, a pair of skinny jeans, and your white Doc Martens.

Throwing you backpack over your shoulder, you head down to the kitchen to get some breakfast and tell everyone good morning before you leave for school. "Mornin' everybody! Hey, dad. Did you pick out where we're going today?" you say with a toothy smile.

"Hey, sweetheart. What're we going out for, again?" he sounded confused, but you just ignored it.

"For our father-daughter date, dummy." you said, jokingly punching his arm. Not that it'd hurt him. He's a super soldier for crying out loud.

"Oh, yeah. About that... We're gonna have to reschedule our dinner tonight, hun. We can do it another night. The team and I are going to meet the new recruit tonight. You should meet him too!" he was rubbing the back of his neck, hoping that you wouldn't be too upset.

"But we've always had our dates on the first Friday of every month. We can't just skip this month!" He's not seriously going to reschedule dinner because of a new recruit... he wouldn't do that to you, right?

"I know, I know. Can we please just have dinner another night? This new recruit could be some serious help for the team."

"Yeah, okay. Whatever. I've got to get to school. I'll see ya when I get back." He's seriously gonna choose the recruit over me, his own daughter? No, maybe it's just more important than I realize.

---------------

"Y/n, its probably nothing. Maybe he just needs to talk to some new people. Being stuck in ice for 70 years and all, he doesn't have many friends," your friend, Milo, tries to reason.

"The recruit is my age. He's a highs schooler. My dad isn't gonna make friends with some high schooler. I don't know. I guess we'll just wait and see." It's nothing, he needs to get to know the recruit anyways...

---------------

After a long and tiring day at school, you get home to see you dad and the new recruit going over what you're guessing is paper work.

"Hey, dad. Hey, new recruit. It's nice to meet you, I'm y/n." you say, holding a hand out for him to shake.

"I'm Parker Peter. I-i-i mean, Peter Parker." he says with a wide smile. You can see his cheeks become a little more red.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Peter. How long do you think you'll be staying tonight? I can't have you stealing my dad from me already!" you say, jokingly. The three of you let out a short laugh.

"I'm not sure. I guess I'll leave once I've gotten the tour and we've gone through all of the paper work." Peter says. Why does he need a tour? He's only here to train, right?

"Sounds good! I'll be in my room if y'all need anything." you say, adding a fake smile. Turning around, you head to your room. The rest of the night, you do nothing but homework, completely forgetting about Peter.

---------------

The next few days consisted of the same exact thing. You'd eat breakfast, go to school, come home and greet your dad and Peter, and go do homework. Had your dad asked you how your day was during the few days? Not once. Had he asked Peter how his day was? Yep. Did your dad ask if you needed help with homework? Nope. Did he ask Peter? Of course he did. Every day. I can't believe it... Is my dad replacing me with Peter? No, he's just helping him out, right? Right.

The next day was Wednesday, which meant you got to workout with your dad and Peter. 'Oh boy. I get to train with two abnormally strong superheros. Yay.' you thought sarcasticly. You went about your day as you usually do. On the way home from school, you texted your dad to let him know you might be a little late because of traffic. You When you got home, you changed into workout leggings and a sports bra, and headed to the gym where you usually meet your dad for workouts. You then realized that your dad hadn't texted you back. When you walk into the gym, you figured out why. Him and Peter were already halfway through the workout that y'all were supposed to be doing together.

At this point, you're starting to realize that your dad is actually replacing you with Peter. Peter's like the son he never got. He's been pushing you and the plans you've made to the side. He's been making Peter his priority.

Walking up to the two sweaty guys, tapping them on the shoulders to get their attention. "Peter, I hate you. No offense though. It's not your fault. Dad, can I talk to you? In private, please?" You do hate Peter, but not because he did anything wrong. He didn't. He's a real good kid. But he's you dad's favorite now. He replaced you, but he didn't know it. So, by default, you hate Peter.

"Hey! Don't talk to Peter like that! He didn't do anything wrong. You can't just walk in here and tell him you hate him. That's not how it works," he practically yells. Your dad never yells at you. The harsh reaction cause tears to swell up in your eyes.

"Dad. I need to talk to you. In private. Away from Peter."

"It can wait. Let us finish what we were doing. Then, we can talk. Got it?" he said sternly.

"Yes sir." you say, holding back tears that you knew would fall as soon as you turn around. And you were right. As soon as you turned around to go to your room, the tears fell, and they wouldn't stop. It only got worse when you got to your room. Forgetting to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. to soundproof your room, you continue sobbing, yelling every now and again. Bucky, in the room next to yours, heard your crying.

Bucky was always there for you. He had been since the day he met you. His face when he found out Steve, THE Steven Grant Rogers, had a daughter. You and him have been close ever since. He's more like a best friend than an uncle if you're being honest. You go to him for everything. Well, almost anything. You hadn't told him about what was going on with you and your dad. You knew he'd be pissed about how your dad was treating you and go argue with him about it. You didn't want to make a big deal of it or anything at first, in case it was nothing.

Bucky, hearing you crying, run out of his room and to your door, softly knocking on it. "Y/n? Hun? Can you please let me in? It's Bucky."

You slowly stand up and walk towards the door, opening it. Looking up at him, with red eyes and mascara running down your checks, you move back to the bed. Bucky closes the door and sits next to you. "You wanna talk about it?" That's always the first question either if you ask when one of you is in this kinda situation.

"I don't know. I don't know, Buck." You lean into his shoulder, crying again.

"That's okay. Take your time, y/n/n. I'll be right back." he says, standing up from the bed. You see him walk into your bathroom, knowing exactly what he's doing. The two of you have a good routine for these kinda nights. It's usually always the same, but it works. When you're crying like you are now, you get horrible headaches. So, Bucky will always get you some ibuprofen and water to help. When he gets back from the bathroom, he hands you a two small pills and a glass a water. Without a second thought, you swallow the pills and some of the water. You thank him and set the glass on your nightstand. Pulling the covers up over your shoulders, you lay back down.

"Thank you.."

"Mhm. Are you gonna sleep first? Or talk? You know we're gonna talk about it at some point."

"I know, I know. Can I sleep right now? We can talk about it another time. I'm exhausted."

"Yeah, of course. But you're not getting out of it, and I'm not giving you the whole 'Its not healthy to keep it all in' lecture. You've heard it enough, so have I."

"Thanks. Mucho appreciated, old man."

"No problem, kiddo. Get some rest, we'll talk tomorrow. 'Night, sweetheart."

"Night, Buck."

---------------

A/N: Cool. This is part one of this. Yes, I will (eventually) finish part two of Excuses. I have no idea when, but eventually. Same goes for part two of this one. But I really like this first part, so I think it'll continue. Thoughts? I hope y'all like it :))

#steve x daughter!reader #steve x daughter #steve x reader #steve rogers #marvel x reader #marvel #peter parker #peter parker x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fic #fanfiction

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ren-therose · 4 years ago

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You Are Like Me (Pt. 1 of "Winter's End)

Roommate!Bucky X F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky begin rooming together after Sam discovers your background and suggests you live with him. . As another failed HYDRA experiment with an enhanced skill set, Sam decides that you, the newest recruit who shares a similar path with the Winter Soldier would benefit from living together.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Cursing, semi-spoilers for FATWS (but nothing plot related, just set during that time).

A/N: This started out as a one-shot for our man Bucky Barnes, but now there will be multiple pieces with this as the wonderful starting piece to the story. I don't know how much the parts will be reliant on a plot, but it will all be based on the same love story throughout. The parts don't necessarily need to be read all together and in order. There will be a variety with this couple, varying from angst to smut, fluffy fluffy FLUFFY shit, and some very depressing stuff too. I hope that these different pieces fulfill all your Bucky needs and help you feel like you really have a developed and copasetic relationship with this lovely gentleman.

"Jesus, who the hell are you?"

I had been laying on a neatly made bed in the apartment Sam had signed me up for. I was staring at the ceiling mindlessly as an old record player spun, emitting the scratchy tones of classic 1940s music. In my hand was a small journal, opened to a blank page towards the middle of the book. My eyes shot open, my hand grabbing a knife from the back of my pants as I launched myself off the bed and towards the unfamiliar man in the doorway.

Before the knife could reach his throat, cool metal met my wrist, stopping my arm in its track. I was practically on top of the dark man in front of me, staring up into his bright cerulean orbs. He seemed almost amused by this first introduction. Almost. The glimmer of humor left his eyes as soon as my knee made contact with his groin, causing him to keel over, as I maneuvered around him to be behind, using his arms hold on me to choke himself.

"I could ask you the same question, blue eyes," I said with a snort. I realized quickly he wasn't an enemy, but the continued power struggle was fun enough to let it play out. Before I could plan my next move though, I was flipped over his broad shoulders, and square on my back, the impact knocking the wind out of me. I looked up through my lashes, trying to focus my eyesight as the splitting headache blurred my vision. Standing above me, the man let out a soft chuckle as he stepped over me, making his way over to the bed and sitting on the edge. I slowly lifted my head, still dizzy from the landing, as his eyes followed the outline of my body.

I was still in my training clothes, too tired to have changed out of the tight tank top and cargo pants. I had been perfecting my combat technique so that I could fend for myself, but it seems I was not yet ready to fight whoever the stranger in my room was.

"Here," he started, getting up from his place and reaching his right hand out to me. I stared at it for a moment, not sure if I should give in or not, though I could tell I would have to. I placed my hand in his, surprised by the contrasting warmth I felt compared to the hand he had caught my wrist in. He quickly pulled me up, causing me to launch into his chest, my left arm quickly wrapping around his bicep to steady myself.

"You can feel me up later doll, but can you explain what the hell you are doing in my room?" He taunted.

I realized that his colder hand was on the small of my back and I leaned back into grasp as I sneered "I could say the same for you..." I noticed the outline of dog tags imprinted underneath his shirt, glancing back up into his eyes with a wink, "Sarge".

He let go, allowing me the chance to step back and start searching for my knife. I could feel his eyes on me, questions waiting to be asked.

"You are Seragnet Barnes, correct?" I mused, grabbing my weapon from the corner and twirling it in my hand before replacing it in its holster. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile at my maneuver, but quickly looked down and cleared his throat before replying.

"Yes ma'am. And I apologize for not knowing your name, as well as for throwing you," he grunted. It was suddenly a very formal manner in which he spoke. My eyebrow quirked up, as I spun on my heels and made my way into the kitchen, hearing heavy footsteps follow in time.

"Y/N".

"And what are you doing in my room, Y/N?" he said inquisitively. I was now the freezer for an ice pack, finding a floppy blue one in the back.

"I guess, I'm your roommate," I shrugged, putting the ice pack to the back of my head as I moved towards the bathroom.

"Wait, Sam told me I was meeting someone named "Y/L/N", they were gonna stay here for a bit," he retorted, once again following behind.

"That is my last name Blue Eyes. Need an ID or something?" I called over my shoulder, turning the corner to enter the bathroom, reaching towards the medicine cabinet.

"That still doesn't explain why you were on my bed," he scoffed, leaning against the door frame as I scavenged through the drawers.

"I didn't think anyone was living here. I was told I'd have a roommate, but I didn't think anyone had moved in yet. You have, like, no shit here. It looks like a hotel room," I critique, standing up with a shake of the bottle in my hand.

"I'm using your Ibuprofen" I say with mock respect. I move past him as I saunter back towards the kitchen. He can't help but laugh at this bizarre encounter and that I am truly not making this easy for him.

"You have a lot of sass for someone who just had their ass beat," he jeers, leaning forward on the counter between us.

All I could do was smile and shake my head, throwing the pills into my mouth and taking a swig of water.

"So, Y/L/N, why do you figure we Sam is rooming us together?"

"Love match?" I joke, placing the now empty cup in the sink and walking over to his side, leaning my back against the countertop.

He snorts, amused by my sarcasm once more. "Maybe, but I have a feeling it goes deeper," he says, turning to rest his side on the counter as he looks me over, clearly searching for something.

"You aren't gonna find any metal attached to me, Barnes," I report, turning to brace myself against the counter. "They messed me up in here." I gesture to forehead, softly tapping to get my point across.

His face falls as he realizes what I mean.

"HYDRA..." was all he could make out.

"They weren't just trying to make soldiers. They were trying to make spies. Hyper intelligent ones that can be manipulated without the risk of losing control or access, like a computer could. I am their failed experiment," I say softly. I chuck the ice pack into the sink, and make my way over to the window, rubbing at the back of my head.

"You have super soldier serum. I have an acute memory and the ability to calculate probable outcomes and human error. I remember..." I turn back to look him in the eye, "everything".

His mouth slightly gapes as he looks me over. "I was a lethal weapon when placed in sensitive situations. If I knew the possible endings of different scenarios, I could pick which one could happen."

He steps towards me, as if he was considering whether to comfort me. Before he could though, I straightened up and tried to scurry past him.

"I am so sorry for invading your space, I'll take my stuff out of your room. I can stay on the couch until-" The Winter Soldier cut me off, grabbing my arm before I could make it into the room.

"No, take the bed, please," he began. "I don't sleep in it anyways. Too comfy."

My eyes go from the grip on my arm up to his eyes, staring down at me, but with concern. I softened my face, providing a half smile as I nodded my head.

"Okay, Sarge. Let's eat though- I'm starving. You order the pizza while I take a shower. Then we can talk."

He let me go, looking down into my eyes, "I think I know your favorite kind."

I raised a brow at this bet, curious to see if he was right. "Alright...we will see..."

I turned and made my way towards the bathroom, looking back to see him still watching.

---

Shit, I don't have my clothes.

I was dripping from the shower still and my hair was very haphazardly put in a bun to keep the water from dripping. I quietly opened the door and peeked my head out, searching for my new roommate. When I had determined the coast was clear, I scurried into the room, shutting the door behind me quietly. When I turned around, I shrieked to see James exiting my closet, a few shirts in hand.

"What the fuck Barnes!!" I choke, desperately clutching my towel, as I had almost lost my grip. He dropped the shirts to the ground, slapping his hand over his eyes in case I did lose my covering.

"Damn, Y/L/N, let me buy you dinner first!" He laughs, trying to make his way to the door.

"Oh you are SO paying for the pizza now Barnes," I fume, adjusting my towel and making my way to the other side of the bed where my bag was.

"So you're saying I can look?"

"You just scared me, I'm decent you prick". I kneeled down beside the bed, opening my bag to see that all of my clothes were missing.

"Are you. fucking. SHITTING ME?" I curse, banging my already sore head onto the side of the bed.

"What did I do this time," the soldier groans.

"No, it's not you, it's just that...well shit. My clothes are missing."

"Oh yeah. I threw them in the wash for you. You weren't carrying a lot, and it's a force of habit from the old days, I thought they would be done by now but-"

"Sergeant?" I interrupt, seething with rage and a tinge of embarrassment.

"Y/L/N?"

"I don't have any clothes," I hiss.

"oh." he says shortly. I press my face into the bed, trying not to scream bloody murder. Suddenly, I feel two soft things land on me, causing me to turn my face to the side.

"Sweats and a shirt. Don't do anything weird," he quipped, leaving me in the room alone.

I look down at the black sweats and navy blue shirt. It was soft, and smelled of fabric softener and pine. I looked up at the empty hallway as I heard the front door open and shut behind him as he went to get the pizza.

I slipped on the clothes and looked myself over in the mirror. I decided to let my hair down to air dry, and the rest of me looked swallowed in his clothes. His sweats were pulled tightly around my hips, exposing my stomach when I stood. The shirt would probably be form fitting on him, but it just barely gave me a shape, though my chest clung to the fabric. I didn't know what this meant, but whatever it was felt nice.

---

"I got the pizza, and Sam already confirmed I was right about it being your favorite so..." James trailed off as he saw me standing in the kitchen, leaning over a brochure of sorts. I looked up to see him holding pizza in one hand and soda in the other as his eyes widened at my get up.

"No snappy remark, blue eyes? Wow, they just keep getting wide-" he cut me off by throwing the box down in front of me.

"Movie?" he muttered, quickly making his way past towards the living room.

"uh...okay. Can we watch 'Casablanca'?"

He turned around, looking at me with confusion.

"You know that movie? That was made almost 80 years ago."

"I'm a sucker for the classics, James," I say, grabbing the pizza and soda of the counter and bringing it to the coffee table.

"Bucky, please. We're gonna be living together and already saw you half-naked," he chides, sitting down on the couch and flipping it on with the remote.

"Okay, Bucky, do you remember the plot?" I probe, sitting myself next to him as I placed two glasses in front of us. I pulled my legs up to cross and adjusted the waist of my pants to sit above my stomach more comfortably. He was leaning back into the sofa, as I was turned to face him, waiting patiently for a response.

"I mean, I remember looking back on it and how terribly it depicted the war. It was not easy to find love abroad," he stated, reaching to grab a slice of pizza.

"Were you looking for love?"

"I was looking for fun. I was pretty sure I was gonna die, or at least not make it back. I was kind of right," he finished, biting into the slice.

"Yeah, not a lot of love in present day HYDRA safe-houses either. Not that I had time for it between missions, I say, leaning over to pour the drinks.

"Well what were you before...them?"

"A history student, if you can believe it. Wanted to study abroad and learn about wars, apply it to algorithms to prevent them. Seems like the common denominator was always men," I reply with a wink.

"I can't say you are wrong. But I am impressed. And now..."

"Now, I'm protected by the Avengers, er- what's left of them, and am able to use my skills for good. All of that history knowledge, everything I have ever learned and forgotten about, I can remember it all". I looked him up and down. "I didn't recognize you without the long hair and this stubble thing kinda threw me off, it's not the same as the pictures in the museum".

He adjusted his angle to better face me, curiosity etched across his features. "You really are something," he contended. The comment caused me to pull back, shocked by his honesty.

"I...uh..." I stammer, unsure of how to proceed.

"If you're going to say thank you, don't bother. It's just a fact," he noted, once more causing me to fall to silence.

He started looking up the movie, struggling with the technology of the remote.

As I studied him, the tension in his jaw, the stress he carries in his eyes, I realized I shared similar features.

"ты как я," I whisper under my breath, unsure if he even heard me.

You are like me.

I knew when he straightened up, and slowly looked in my direction.

"я знаю," he replied.

I know.

I reached my hand out to his arm, resting it on gently.

"What does this mean?" I asked softly.

"I'm not quite sure."

------

The next morning, I awoke to the smell of deep roast coffee.

Bucky and I had spent almost the entire night talking. We skimmed around the dark parts of our past, knowing that there would be time for that, but instead got to know the things that really shaped who we are today.

He really enjoyed his time in Wakanda. It was incredibly healing for him, and allowed him a chance to find piece, something we ex-soldiers and spies rarely could get. He told me about his life in the 40s, or what he could remember. A lot of his memories has been formed with the help of Steve, which I knew caused him pain. But he also found happiness in retelling those stories, knowing that someone else will see him as more than the Winter Soldier.

I shared my experience abroad. I had been all across the USA, in Canada, both Iceland and Greenland, Poland, France, Italy, Turkey, London, and of course Sokovia. It was were I had been taken during my travels. I had never told anyone about this before, but I had felt so comforted knowing that he had been through something so similar.

I don't know when, but at some point in the night, I had ended up falling asleep propped up on the couch. When I woke up in my bed the next morning, I realized it must have been him. I looked down to see I was still wearing his shirt, and smiled to myself. When I got up, I found his sweats on the floor, knowing I probably kicked them off when I got into bed. I stepped back into them, pulling them up around my legs and tying them once more on my hips. I looked in the mirror, my hair limp and flat from sleep. Checking my phone, I walked out, scratching my head and rubbing my face, yawning as the coffee smell grew stronger.

"доброе утро," he greets me, smirking at the confused face I made.

"No Russian. Too early. Try again later," I mumbled, jumping up to sit on the counter. He held up the sugar, shaking it in my face.

"Two to three teaspoons please," I groan, pushing the container out of my face.

"Someone likes it sweet," he laughs, dumping in my unhealthy request.

"And creamer, if you have some," I added, smiling as he turned towards the fridge.

"Did you know you speak Russian in your sleep?"

"I bet you do the same. All HYDRA escapees probably," I mutter, taking the mug from his hands.

"Well, you will have to let me know sometime," he chides, taking a sip of his own black coffee.

"Last night was...."

"Traumatizing?"

"Yeah, but maybe healing too?"

"Good," he exclaims, walking over to the couch. He sits down, swiping his phone off the charger next to him.

"Before you have to go, do you want some breakfast?" I offer, scanning his response to my inquiry.

"Is that your power thing? You knew they would ask me to work today?" He questions, looking down at the phone and then back at me.

"It's a skill, not a power. I'm not a superhero," I laugh, getting out the contents for a breakfast sandwich.

"Yes, I would like one. But you already knew that didn't you?"

"No skills required. Tony texted me this morning too. We are training together."

He smiled. He almost looked excited.

"I'm gonna beat your ass again Y/L/N".

"You wish".

-----------------------------------------------------

Every day, we played out the same routine.

I would wake up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. I'd come out, thank him and proceed to make us breakfast. We would then go to combat training for a few hours. When he wasn't helping me, he was working on his own workout routine; often, he would put aside time to just focus on improving my knife skills. He would always joked that I showed promise after out first encounter, and then would promptly beat my ass in a knife fight.

After training, it would be time to meet Sam for lunch, chat about our personal lives (which were rarely separated from our work), as well as current issues in the Avengers, and the world.

Bucky always stayed close by when we were out and about, glancing over to make sure I was okay. I would signal back that it was okay, smiling as a way of thanks when I noticed him checking. The only time we went our separate ways for our "rehab plans" we called jokingly. He would go see his therapist while I went and saw mine. Then, he would meet Sam for a bit by himself, while I went back to our place and did paperwork. When he came home, we would decide on dinner and a movie, but would probably stay up the whole night talking and leaving the movie with at least 20 minutes to go (on a good night).

One night, after I had "magically" ended up in bed, I woke up to Bucky shaking me, yelling my name.

"Y/N! Y/N, it's me, it's Bucky! Come on Y/N, wake up!"

I was drenched in sweat and my voice felt coarse and raw. My heart was beating at an impossible rate, as I shot up to hold on to him.

"Y/N, it's okay, you're okay," he said, trying to calm me down as he pushed my wet hair off of my face. I was gripping his arms, trying my best to ground myself. My eyes were bloodshot and wet, as tears and sweat mixed down my face. His blue eyes were frantically searching me, making sure that I was okay.

"It was them Bucky, they were here, they were gonna hurt you, I couldn't move, they said the, they said the words Bucky, jesus I was gonna lose you Buck, I couldn't, I can't..." I trailed off, starting to hyperventilate as I buried my face in his chest, allowing him to pull me closer.

He held me against him, shushing me as he ran his hand through the back of my hair. His chin rested atop my head as I regained control of my breathing. As my heart rate lowered and the sound of blood rushing through my ears subsided, I heard him say softly:

"I could never leave you Y/N, I can't...you mean to much to me..."

I didn't know if he realized I heard him, but it made me relax into him a little more. We didn't move for I don't know how long, just holding each other, breathing in sync. I could feel myself start to get sleepy, and began to slump more and more into him. He could feel the wait of me on his chest, and softly laid me back into the bed. When I was settled in, he started to scoot backwards towards the edge of the bed, before I grabbed his arm.

"Stay. Please. Stay," I barely whispered.

He looked down at me, tucked under the covers in an oversized t-shirt with my hair a crazy mess around my face. My eyes were glassy and red from crying, but my grip on his arm was sure.

"Please Buck."

I pulled back the covers next to me, signaling the invitation that I meant it.

He was only in a T-Shirt and boxers in himself, but nevertheless, he climbed in anyways. As he slid down, I pulled myself into him, hugging his torso as the scent of his fabric softener filled my nose.

He wrapped his arm under my head and around me, the other to my back, sheltering me from my nightmares as I drifted back to sleep. When I woke up, my head was resting on top of his chest, his hand still in my hair. I could count his steady heartbeats over time, our breathing once more in time together. I glanced up to see his stubbly face, in a serene sleep. I had heard him up late at night, wandering in the living room. I am sure he had nightmares like me, but I was the unlucky one to have the first terror while we were roommates.

I couldn't help but realize that he put a shirt on.

He never wore a shirt to sleep.

I knew this because I had woken up a time or two to go to the bathroom, and he would be there, on the floor, practically shining as the moonlight radiated off of his skin. It was almost impressive.

So he put a shirt on when he came in to help me last night. I guess it is respectful of him. I mean, everything about last night, or at least what I could remember, made me feel safer than I had in a very long time. Bucky always made me feel safe, but now, lying on his chest, it was deeper than two former soldiers-it was intimate.

I couldn't stop myself, I inched slightly up, lifting my head to his face, practically nose to nose. I could feel him exhale as the air left his nose and tickled my face. I leaned down, just off to the right side of his mouth and softly kissed him. I couldn't kiss him on the lips, but I needed to put it out there, even if he was asleep. I laid back down next to him, facing the ceiling as I felt him softly stir next to me. I tried to discreetly roll away, my body turned away from him, screwing my eyes closed.

I could feel the bed shift underneath me as he awoke. I could feel him leaning over me, checking to see that I was "asleep". Then, I felt his lips on my forehead, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple.

"You can't get away with it that easily Y/N"

My eyes slowly opened, as if afraid I would see it was all a dream, and he wouldn't be there. Instead, he was looking down at me, his head cocked to the side with a crooked smile dancing on his lips. Concern was etched on my brow, though my mouth betrayed me in a half smile as I stared back at the blue eyed soldier.

"I uh-I didn't, uh, mean to wake you Bucky, I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," I stuttered out, worried that I might have made him feel pressured to return the favor.

I was surprised when his arm reached for my waist, pulling me from my side to my back as he rested his hands on either side of me. Trapped underneath him, my train of thought was so far off the rails, my ability to even speak was completely hijacked.

"Y/N, you have no idea how long I had been waiting for you to do something like that," he confessed. I quivered underneath him, my only response to his words. He was now hovering above my torso, propped up on his forearms as he continued to ramble.

"I never wanted to pressure or impose anything against you. I thought that you felt it too, and I wanted to be a gentleman, but with last night and you wanting me to stay, and now this morning..., I just wanted to make sure that I am reading the signals right an-"

He was cut off by my hand on the back of his neck, pulling him up to my face where our noses connected once more. His eyes were piercing, searching mine frantically before I closed them and pulled him down. Our lips attached to one another, fitting together softly, one on top of the other. His arm slid underneath my back and pressed me into him as my arm wrapped around his neck, my other hand holding his face. I could feel the metal against my waist, but it was warmer than usual, probably due to being under the covers all night. After years of torture and pain for the both of us, this kiss made terrors of that night worth it. It brought him and I together.

As we pulled away, our lips still stuck to the others until there was enough distance to truly focus our eyesight on the other. Pupils dilated, chests rising and falling against each other, our status shifted from roommates to something more in seconds. Maybe we were always something more and we hadn't realized it until now. But none of the what ifs mattered now. Now, there was a certainty that Bucky and I had a future together.

-------

A/N: This made me cry. A lot. The angst, the coping skills, the little sparks of chemistry. I just love writing about this man. He is everything a girl could ask for. I will start writing a part two tomorrow and I can promise you, it is about to be a lot cuter, a lot smuttier, and a lot more BUCKKKYYYY.

Taglist: @n3ssm0nique @arctic-duchess @bluemoon-icecream

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fluff #bucky flirting #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #mcu #marvel #winter solider x y/n #winter soldier x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes series

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colorseeingchick · 4 years ago

Text

Period Pains (Atsumu, Akaashi, Sugawara)

Periods. Suck. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. But maybe they can make it suck less.

A/N: Y’all can probably guess how my week has been :D. So this is mostly self indulgent and has definitely made me fall in love with all these boys much more. I may or may not stan Miya Atsumu now but we don’t talk about it (yet)

Warnings: None really! Fluffy and domestic wholesomeness. Post-timeskip.

Miya Atsumu

Atsumu starts to stir from his sleep when he hears a loud prolonged groan next to him.

He presses his eyes closed when the lights suddenly turn on. Ugh.

He opens his eyes to see you waddling away to the bathroom with your hand pressed to your stomach. Hmm?

He looks down and sees a relatively large splotch of red staining the sheet. HAH!

Suddenly, Atsumu is very alert.

“Babe what happened! Did you get hurt?”

Mans throws (I mean THROWS) himself out of bed and pulls a pair of shorts on as he stumbles to the bathroom to check on you.

“Baby are you-”

He sees you by the sink, washing your shorts, the water discolored as it runs off.

Ohhhh yeah! You were on your period.

Headass’s mind blanked while in a sleepy haze.

You sigh. “Yeah I’m… fine-ish. I guess.”

He smirks and comes up behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist, one hand gently rubbing over your long sleep shirt, right over your lower belly.

He presses a slow kiss into the side of your head and rocks you side to side while you continue to wash.

“Did ya wake up cuz of the pain, babe?”

“Mhm. And I saw the stain then too. Ain’t my luck just great?”

He groggily laughs and presses more kisses along the side of your face and holds you tighter.

“You got this, babe. I’ll bring the sheets here, yeah?”

“Kay.”

This, in its own way, is enough to make you feel… less bad.

You were far from feeling okay at this point, but Atsumu knowing the drill and nonchalantly helping out at 2 am made things feel less apocalyptic than they were in your head..

Atsumu strips the bed of all its sheets, rubbing his eyes as he tries to keep awake.

Handing the sheet to you, he leans against the wall as you washed out the immediate blood stains.

Once you wash it out, he takes it from you.

“Clean yerself up babe.”

He takes the sheets downstairs and throws them into the washing machine.

He goes to the kitchen and grabs a banana and some dark chocolate (because we healthy in this household).

And some ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet.

And runs back up to find you coming with new sheets in hand.

Putting your snacks down on your bedside table, he helps you pull the fresh sheets over your bed.

Sitting you on the bed, he hands you the food and sits next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder while you munch.

He gives you the medicine when you’re done.

“30 minutes- not bad. I think that’s our new record.”

He shuts off the lights and crawls into bed, opening his arms as you slide your legs under the comforter.

Snuggling into him, he nuzzles your forehead as he holds you close.

“Feelin better, babe?”

“Yeah… I’ll probably fall asleep in a bit or something.”

“Well, if ya wanna press up against me if that’ll make you feel better, ya can. And wake me up if ya need anything.”

“I will, Atsumu. Thanks.”

“G’nite, sweetheart.”

BONUS: you wake up late the next morning, Atsumu still holding you flush against his body.

Now that you slept well (thanks to the meds and Atsumu) and woke up without pain, you’re suddenly in a very affectionate mood.

Wiggling up, you find your way to Atsumu’s face, giving him a couple of soft pecks to his lips.

He stirs in his sleep, kissing you back.

But even after you had pulled away, he kept kissing at the air, trying to find your lips in his sleepy haze.

It was pretty funny.

He’s a headass, you’re not gonna lie.

But he’s your headass! And that’s all that matters.

Akaashi Keiji

Before even coming home, Akaashi knew you were going to be on your period today.

Your period tracking app was synced to his phone, so he knew when to prepare for your worst days with snacks, supplies, and lots of affection.

He hated how busy he was, that he couldn’t be home to take care of you. So making sure you had everything you needed was the best he could do.

But when Akaashi comes home and can’t find you anywhere, he starts to worry.

Where were you? You would usually always greet him when he came home, even when you were on your period.

He gets his answer when he hears sniffles and hiccups coming underneath the lump of blankets on the couch.

Akaashi knows that if you were ever fully underneath the blankets, there was something really wrong.

Taking his jacket off and throwing it over a chair in the kitchen, he rushes to your side and pulls the blankets delicately off your head.

“What’s wrong, darling.”

“H-hi Keiji. I’m s-sorry I didn’t m-mean to *hic* hide from you I j-just don’t feel too g-good.”

Your breath was so shaky and Akaashi’s heart shattered watching you.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong, dear.” Akaashi asks you in a whisper.

“My tummy just hurts so so much and it won’t go away I-” your sobs begin to rack through your whole body.

“Did you take medicine? Heating pad?” He asks gently as he runs his hands through your hair and wipes the tears off your face.

“N-no… I hate taking medicine Keiji you know that. But I took a hot shower and I hoped it would help and it didn’t.” You attempt to stifle your cries to talk coherently, misery wrapping around your soul.

“Alright then, give me a second, darling, and I’ll do whatever I can.”

After changing, Akaashi comes back downstairs to the couch and makes his way over to you.

He pats your head gently, “can you sit up for me?”

He swings his legs up onto the couch and opens his arms and legs so you could place yourself between all his limbs.

Crawling up to him, he turns you so that your back is pressed to his torso.

Immediately, Akaashi’s hands snake around your waist and find their way to two sides of your lower stomach.

His fingers gently message you, moving around to try and find which spots need his attention, all while he coaxes you into being relaxed.

“Shhh darling, you’re okay. I’m here and I’m going to shower you with my love. Just relax and let me take care of you, okay dearest?”

You nuzzle back against his chest, letting his words, touch, warmth, and smell fill all your senses.

“Keiji… how was your day?” You murmur, tilting your head back in an effort to look at him.

He smiles, warmth spreading through his body as he realizes even while in pain, you still want to carry on your daily check-in on him post work.

And so Akaashi tells you all the stories from the day- his new assignment, how panicked he got midday when the office went into crisis, a surprise visit from a certain owl during lunch time.

You listen attentively, but your hands subconsciously move his larger hands to the center of your lower abdomen, where he starts to gently rub, leaving your skin tingly and chest lighter.

“Do you feel better, Y/N?” after sitting in comfortable silence for a little, he decides to ask.

But when he got no response, he cranes his neck to check on you.

You had fallen asleep in his embrace, a sweet smile slowly creeping across your face.

He smiles too, overjoyed to know that he was able to relieve you of some of your pain.

“Goodnight, my love.” He whispers to you, his eyes slowly shutting, arms still on your stomach.

BONUS: at around 2 am, Akaashi wakes up, realizing he was still on the couch.

You, however, were nowhere to be seen.

Getting up, Akaashi heads to the kitchen to grab water, assuming you were already in bed.

Instead, he found you in the kitchen too, the smell of pancakes flooding the space.

“Keiji! We never ate dinner. I’m sorry I made you fall asleep without eating.”

A small smile appears on his face and he rubs his sleepy eyes.

“It’s okay, dear. I’m just glad you could sleep some.”

“Do you want pancakes?”

“I would love some.”

Sugawara Koushi

Like Akaashi, Suga knew what was about to happen when he got a phone call from you as soon as he was leaving school.

Regardless, hearing you sniffle over the phone activates every protective instinct in his body.

“What’s wrong baby?”

“Koushi, do you love me?”

A dumb question, obviously. Suga showered you with affection and endless praise on a daily basis for you simply just breathing. The most supportive of boyfriends!

But alas, insecurity still creeps up at times. And Suga gets it.

“I love you more than anything else, Y/N.”

“Can you come home, Koushi? I miss you.”

“I’m on my way, love. Give me 10 extra minutes, okay?”

Suga hopped into his car to head home, stopping by the store to pick up a few things.

He grabbed a pint of your favorite ice cream, your favorite chips (because do you want sweet or savory today? Only time will tell), and some flowers before heading home.

The moment he steps through the door, you throw your hands around him and groan out of frustration, pain, and just general dejectedness (don’t @ me for projecting I swear).

Suga smiles down at you, knowing that he can bring you some peace, and pulls you against him, flowers and bag still in hand.

“Let me go change, my love. These are for you.”

Your generally miserable disposition shifts as your nose is filled with the aroma of fresh flowers. Sweet and gentle scents always managed to lift your spirits, and Suga knew that.

“Mkay.”

Once Suga came downstairs, he headed to the kitchen to warm up some water to pour into a water bottle.

“Sweet or salty?”

“Salty.”

He grabs the warm water bottle and the bag of chips and makes his way over the couch where your eyes were begging him to shower you in love (which he was more than happy to do).

Sitting down and opening his arms, you pull yourself against his side, hugging him tightly and nuzzling against his chest.

He rubs your head before sliding his hand down, soothingly rubbing circles onto your back.

His other hand goes to place the warm water bottle on your lower abdomen, which you hold in place by pulling your legs up to your torso.

“Koushi, why do you love me?” You murmur against him. “I’m so whiny and clingy and annoying and insecure and you’re perfect… you deserve the best. You shouldn’t have to put up with someone like me-”

“Hey.” Suga gently but sternly cuts you off.

“That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about, and I don’t appreciate you talking about her like that.” He looks down at you and melts as he sees your puppy dog eyes staring back up at him.

“Koushi, I’m not wrong though. I am all those things.”

“And? I love you for it. I love that you whine for me and cling to me- it makes me feel wanted. I wouldn’t call you annoying, that's not your call to make. And insecure? That’s natural, my love. Everyone's a little insecure. I’m a little insecure. You’re not perfect and neither am I. And that’s okay. I don’t wanna love perfect. I want to love you and only you, okay?”

Tears prick your eyes but you feel better with Suga’s words of reaffirmation. He’ll tell you no matter how many times you need to hear it. “Thank you Koushi, I love you so much.”

“Shh, my love. Don’t cry. I love you, too.”

His grasp on you tightens as you relax against him, your breathing synchronizing.

“You wanna watch some TV?”

“Yes please.”

“Chips?”

“Mhm.”

Single word exchanges and the warmth of Suga’s sweater keep you connected as you allow yourself to forget your physical and mental pains.

Suga always knew exactly what you needed to hear, and never hesitated to tell you. No matter how ‘out of the blue’ or random it may have felt, he was always there for when you needed him.

BONUS: you guys settle on watching a romance movie, Suga feeding you chips while popping some into his own mouth as well.

But once the movie got to the really sad part, you started crying (sometimes movies just made you cry, but hormones made it so much worse).

“Baby, don’t cry, it’s just a movie.”

“But Koushi, you’re crying too!”

In honesty, Suga’s face was very tear-streaked as well, his sniffles hushed.

“Okay fine, we can both cry together.”

And so you did! Both of you cried, emotions fully invested in the movie, chips still being munched on while sobs shook your bodies.

It would have been a goofy sight to any onlookers, but it was the pinnacle of your relationship- emotionally vulnerable, intimate, and domestic. True perfection, if you were to ask me.

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

Text

Imaginary Friends 2

Part One

Pairing: dad!Tom Holland x Reader

Masterlist

“I’ll get your seat.” Tom cleared his throat awkwardly before pulling your seat out for you. He was forgetting how to act like a regularly functioning human being and found himself having no idea where to put his hands. He stuffed them in and out of his pockets about a hundred times before you even sat down. Since it was your job to be observant, you noticed his timid demeanor and gave him a warm smile to relax him.

“Oh, thank you.” You chuckled shyly as you sat in the seat.

“No problem, m’lady.” He bowed slightly then shut his eyes in embarrassment. “I’m sorry I said that.”

“It’s alright.” You chuckled again and he let out a breath of relief as he took his seat. His mind went blank as he stared at you in your black cocktail dress, suddenly forgetting every talking point he had ever picked up. Awkward silence filled the space between you and Tom began to panic.

“This place seems really nice.” You spoke up and his heart race went back to normal. You smiled to yourself when you saw the color return to his face.

“Yeah. My family comes here whenever I wrap a movie and come home.” He told you, impressive himself with the easy conversation he was keeping. He stopped fumbling with his hands and let them rest on his lap. Your eyebrows raised when he told you the tidbit and you blushed a little.

“So this is a special place to you?” You asked with a coy smile, reading heavily into the fact he brought you somewhere that had meaning to him.

“Well this is a special occasion.” He shrugged and raised his glass of water. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and you clinked you’re glass against him.

“I’m glad we’re doing this.” You said once you set your glass down. Tom smiled widely and nodded.

“Me too.”

The waiter came by to drop a bucket off ice off at the table and told you both he’d be back shortly for your orders.

“Oo, ice.” You took the lid off the bucket and grabbed an ice cube.

“What are you doing?” Tom wondered as you put the ice cube down in the table.

“Hang on.” You smiled deviously at Tom and began to rummage through your bag. Tom watched you curiously as you took your gun out of your bag and smashed the butt of it against the ice cube. Pieces of ice went everywhere as you and Tom leaned forward on the table as silent laughter escaped your lips. Tom looked around to check if anyone saw with his hand clamped over his mouth as you put your gun away. Your body shook as you laughed, brushing small crumbs of ice off the table.

“Why did you do that?” He asked between bursts of laughter.

“To break the ice.” You said like it was obvious before laughing again.

“With your gun?” He whispered harshly, wiping a tear from his eye. He could not believe you had done what you did. He didn’t even care about the people staring. He was already having the most fun he’d had in a long time.

“If this restaurant had outdoor seating, I would’ve shot it.” You leaned forward to whisper and he broke into another fit of laughter at your boldness, even if you were kidding.

“So you’re trying to kill me?” He teased you.

“I’ll have you know, Mr. Hollywood actor, that I have the best shot on my team.” You said smugly as you took a sip of your water.

“I’m impressed.”

“I am too. I stalked you on the Internet after we met and you’re actually really talented.” You said with surprise and Tom couldn’t help but laugh. “That one clip of the superhero movie where you’re like turning into ashes so was sad.”

“Oh My God, I stalked you too.” He admitted, getting excited now with his fearless date. “And it was dust, darling. I turned to dust.”

“Ew, did you see my FBI induction ceremony?” You grimaced.

“The one with your hair sticking up? No I don’t think so.” He said sarcastically and you groaned.

“That’s so embarrassing. I hate that picture.” You whined. “My hair was everywhere. No one told me I looked like the ginger from the Rugrats.”

“Chuckie?”

“No, not the doll.” You shook your head. “The cartoon baby with the big teeth.”

“His name is Chuckie.” Tom chuckled and your eyes widened.

“Wait really?” You asked. “Why does Hollywood make gingers so scary looking?”

“I have no idea. You’ll have to ask the ginger consultants up in LA.” Tom joked.

“Do they really have that?” You looked amazed and it almost broke Tom’s heart to tell you he was kidding.

“No.” He laughed. “You think they have people for that?”

“Well I don’t know!” You defended. “I saw an interview where you said you had a dialect coach. That means it’s someone’s job to teach you how to speak. Your American accent is pretty good by the way.”

“Just pretty good?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t unlock genuine compliments until the second date.” You said simply.

“Unlock? Like a video game.” Tom questioned you with a smile. It gave him confidence that you were already planning on a second date.

“No. It’s obviously like a quest.” You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Oh, a quest huh?” He challenged. “What’s the prize at the end?”

“My undying love, duh.” You shook your head as if he asked a stupid question. Tom stares at you for a moment, just taking you in as a dopey smile crossed his face.

“Y/n, you might be the most interesting persons I ever met.” He said sincerely as he raised his glass again.

“Well I met a man who had a fetish for baby teeth and I arrested him in front of his mother so, cheers.” You deadpanned as you clicked your glass against his.

“Oh my God.” He laughed and took a long sip. It was gonna be a long night, and he couldn’t wait to see what was gonna happen next.

“Tom?” You called weakly as you opened his front door. You dropped your to go bag on the ground and it landed with a heavy thud. You let your eyes drift around his living room, having missed it after being away for two weeks.

“You’re home!” Tom came out of the kitchen and set the towel he was using to dry his hands down on the counter. He made his way to you and pulled you into a long kiss. “I missed you, love. I just put Spencer down but I can wake him up if you want to see him.”

“No, no. It’s okay. Let him sleep.” You nodded and winced as a pain shot through your side. You hunched over a little and gripped your side, taking a deep breath to try and minimize the pain.

“Woah, love, are you okay?” Toms voice was filled with worry as he tried to steady you. He helped you over to the couch and you painfully sat down.

“I need to tell you something.” You looked him in the eyes as your clutched your side. “Don’t be mad.”

“Okay.” He nodded curtly, already growing worried about what it could be.

“I got shot.” You grimaced and Toms eyes widened.

“YOU GOT SHOT?!” Tom screamed and you quickly shushed him, not wanting to wake up Spencer.

“I said don’t be mad!” You whispered harshly.

“I’m not mad I’m just reacting loudly.” He whispered back. “You got shot?!”

You pulled up the side of your loose Cotten shirt to reveal a thick white bandage taped to your ribs.

“Happy anniversary?” You smiled weakly.

“Oh my god, what happened?” Tom asked as he tentatively touched your bandage. Small splotches of blood were begins to show through. Tom ran time the kitchen and got you ibuprofen and a glass of water as quickly as he could.

“Apparently child abductors don’t like it when you take their abducted children away. Wish I knew that earlier.” You rolled your eyes sarcastically as you popped the pills into your mouth.

“Is now the time for jokes? You have a bullet hole!” He said angrily as he handed you the cup of water. He didn’t want to yell, but he had never felt so panicked. Bullet holes were plot points in his movies, not something he’d ever thought his girlfriend would come home with.

“Y/n has a bullet hole?” Spencer appeared in the door and stared at you with a gapping mouth. He clutched his teddy bear out of fear and you felt your heart melt.

“It’s okay, Spence.” You assured him and quickly fixed your shirt. “Go back to bed. I’m fine.”

“Did the bad guys hurt you?” He ignored your order as he walked over to you.

“Yeah, they got me this time buddy.” You cupped his chin to comfort him. “But my team arrested him so you don’t have to worry.”

“This is insane. I’m gonna call the police.” Tom shook his head and pulled out his phone.

“I am the police.” You chuckled as you lowered his phone. “And I already saw a medic. It’s just a graze. I’m totally fine.”

“You’re bleeding!” Tom reminded you in a whisper so Spencer wouldn’t hear.

“I’m bleeding as well as being totally fine.” You bopped his nose and he relaxed a little.

“Will teddy make your feel better? He helps me when I’m sick.” Spencer asked hopefully as he held his teddy bear out to you. You gratefully accepted the bear and held him to your chest.

“I feel better already. Thanks, Spence.” You ruffled his hair with your free hand.

“Come on, buddy. You shouldn’t be in here.” Tom took Spencers hand and began to lead him back to his bed.

“Is mommy gonna be okay?” Spencer asked, making your ears turn pink.

“She’s gonna be fine. Come on. I’ll make you some ice cream in the kitchen.” Tom knew his son wouldn’t be getting to bed anytime soon, so he brought him to the kitchen to distract him with some ice cream. He scooped some into a bowl for Spencer before returning to you.

“I’m sorry. This is not what I had in mind for our 1 year anniversary.” You smiled apologetically as you took Toms hand. Tom let out a breath and kissed your knuckles. He couldn’t be mad at you, even if he wanted to. He was just glad you were alright.

“Well the restaurant I was gonna take you to is super cold inside so this works for me.” He joked with a breathy chuckle. He sat next to you on the couch and pulled you into his side. You sat in silence for a moment as he stroked your hair. Guilt began to bubble in your tummy as your thoughts piled in.

“Spencer called me mommy.” You said after a beat of silence. Tom has caught that too but let it slip his mind given your current situation.

“I’m sorry. I’ll tell him not to do that again.” Tom said softly. You had never discussed it, so he assumed you weren’t comfortable with that yet. Tom would love for you to one day be Spencers mother, but you’d only been dating a year. He understood if you weren’t ready for that title. He just didn’t know how he was supposed to tell his son that the woman who ate dinner with them every night, sent him postcards when she was away, and sometimes made him breakfast wasn’t his mother.

Your thoughts were completely different than Toms. You were both thinking of the future, but not in the same way. A lump formed in your throat as hot tears brimmed in your eyes.

“Tom?” You gulped, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Yes, love?” He looked down at you with worry.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” You kept your eyes straight ahead and let your statement hang in the air for a moment. Tom stopped stroking your hair and his entire body stilled.

“What? Why?” He sat up and looked at you with desperate confusion. I thought we really connected. I thought…I thought we were in love.” He said quietly.

“We did. And we are.” You cupped his face, trying to comfort him in the way that always worked with Spencer. “But Tom, your son had one mother walk out on him already. If you and I continue this serious relationship and I don’t come home one day, what’s that going to do to him? What’s that going to do to you?”

“I don’t - I don’t know.” Tom was speechless as he thought about what you said.

“The bullet grazed me this time. I might not get as lucky next time.” You shrugged as a tear slipped out. “I’ve seen the most capable agents get hurt in the field. I go to work every day and I never know if I’ll make it home. That’s hard for me to deal with. Do you really want to deal with that too?”

Tom was quiet as silent tears fell down his face. He didn’t trust his voice enough to speak, not that he had the words anyway. The only sounds heard were the scripted of Spencers spoon against his bowl in the kitchen. You observed Tom’s silence and stroked his cheek.

“I really love you, Tom. And I love Spencer.” You said quietly. “But I don’t want to come into your lives when I know I can be taken out of it at any moment. You both deserve better.”

“Maybe we do.” He shrugged, suddenly finding his voice. “But I could go for a walk tomorrow and get struck by lighting. You could go face to face with the most dangerous Unsub in FBI history and die in a car crash on your way home. And Spencer drank your shampoo yesterday because he wanted his organs to smell like strawberries.” Tom listed and you let out a tired laugh. “Nobody knows what the future holds. No one is promised a tomorrow. I understand your concerns and I know the risks but I just,” Tom shrugged, “I don’t care. I don’t care if your job is dangerous. Mine is too. My suit Doenst have a zipper. I barely get to pee.”

You laughed again and wiped your face on the back of your hand.

“That’s not good for your kidneys.” You said pointedly.

“It’s not. So maybe a kidney infection will kill me.” He shrugged again. “Or maybe you’ll drop your curling iron in the bathtub and get electrocuted.”

“How much do you know about death?” You questioned his unconventional examples.

“Not much. And I don’t know much about love either.” He admitted. “But I do know that as long as I get to spend today with you, I don’t care about tomorrow. Every second I get with you is worth it to me. But if you still want to stop seeing each other, I’ll respect that. I’ll make sure I never get my mail at the same time as you so we don’t have to make awkward eye contact and do that tight smile white people make.”

“I don’t want to stop.” You teared up again. “And I never want to make awkward eye contact at the mailbox.”

“I have a solution for that.” Tom said and you raised your eyebrows. “Move in. Then we’ll share a mailbox.”

A smile tugged at your lips at his proposal and you rubbed his knee.

“Let me think about it.” You told him.

“Take all the time you-“

“Yes.” You cut him off. “My answer is yes.”

Tom broke out into a smile and pulled you into a long kiss.

“I love you. So, so much.” He whispered against your lips.

“I love you too.” You answered.

“Daddy, I finished my ice cream.” Spencer came back into the living room with chocolate on his chin.

“Come here, Spence.” Tom opened his arms and Spencer climbed onto his lap. “How would you feel about Y/n moving forward in here and living with us?

“Really? Like a permanent sleepover?” Spencer looked at you with excitement as you wiped his chin clean with a wipe.

“Yeah, honey. Like a permanent sleepover.” You nodded with a smile.

“Yay! I love you.” Spencer three his arms around your neck and hugged you tightly. You laughed and hugged him back, rubbing soft circles on his back.

“I love you too, Spence.” You told him. “But you have to get to bed. Teddy is exhausted.”

“Come on, buddy. I’ll tuck you in again.” Tom offered.

“Can mommy tuck me in this time?” Spencer asked hopefully and you and Tom shared a look.

“Uh, about that-“ Tom began.

“Yes.” You cut him off and scooped Spencer up. “Mommy will tuck you in.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @foreverxholland @damnyoudameron @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @spideygirl2003 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @maryjanee23 @spacebitch2 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @jillanaholland @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @wendaiii @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @hes-amarillo @quaksonhehe @kelieah @silteplaittais-toi @kickingn-ames @purefluff @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @lou-la-lou @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @ohnothezombies @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x yn #tom holland x y/n #single dad!tom holland #single dad!tom holland x reader #dad!tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #iron man #peter parker fanfiction #marvel #spiderman #tom holland fluff

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lizamango · 3 years ago

Text

Finding You (Bucky Barnes x Reader) 4/?

A/N: Yay I’ve managed to bang out another chapter before I get too busy this weekend. This is seriously the slowest burn fic I have ever written!

Summary: You’ve been one of SHIELD’s top spies for years but what happens when the organisation you’ve put your trust in crumbles and Captain America gives you a mission to help him find his best friend? The last thing you expected to happen was to fall in love with your assignment and become best friends with a witch.

Taglist ~ just comment if you wanna be added

@buckylokisimp, @white-wolf-buckaroo, @austynparksandpizza, @markandlexies, @yaszx

Word Count: 3117

Masterlist

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~

Warnings: cursing

Chapter Summary: Steve trusts you and you face the Winter Soldier

Chapter 4: IT WAS ALL A LIE

I wake up in a new car with Rogers driving.

“Where are we?” I ask groggily.

“Goin’ back to DC. Goin’ to someone I trust,” he responds keeping his eyes on the road.

“Didn’t realise you had friends. Other than me, of course,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood even though we almost got blown up.

“So we’re friends now, huh?” he says, playing along.

I shrug but it causes a pang in my side and I hiss at the pain.

“You alright?”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t have enhanced speedy healing but I’ll cope. Give me an ibuprofen and I’ll be good as new.” I sigh, staring out the window.

“You sure that’s not an act to distract me from the fact you called me Steve and not Rogers or Captain?” he says, teasing.

I roll my eyes dramatically. Of course he picked that up. “Slip of the tongue.”

“Whatever you say… friend. Pal. Buddy,” he chuckles, amused at his own joke. Like a grandpa.

“Oh my gosh, anyone ever tell you you’re really annoying?”

He quiets down and the mood shifts notably. More somber. “Someone did.”

I frown, I thought he didn’t have anyone special… The car comes to a stop and before I could ask for more, even though I know he wouldn’t give it, he gets out of the car.

“Where are we, really?”

“Trust me.” I do.

I follow him up the steps and he knocks on the door. I look around, suspicious and skeptical, the sound of the door opening brings my attention to the owner of the house. Huh, the guy I saw when I first picked the Captain up for that cursed mission.

“Hey, man,” Sam says in shock.

“I’m sorry about this. But we need a place to lay low.”

“Everyone we know is trying to kill us,” I add.

“Not everybody,” he steps aside and Steve and I walk in. “Bathroom’s through that hallway and there’s a spare room right across from it… I’ll go and… make you something to eat. If you guys do that sort of thing.”

I chuckle softly and Steve lets me go wash up first. I splash water in my face and take a breath, something I couldn’t do until now. I stare hard at my reflection and I look as lost and tired as I feel. I find a small towel and take it with me, sitting on the bed and drying off. Steve freshens up next and goes to sit in front of me.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I respond a little too quickly.

“What’s going on?”

“I guess… SHIELD’s been my life for so long. I thought I knew what it was… that it did good, helped people. I thought that everything I did, every mission I filled was the right thing, the good thing. But what if it wasn’t? Whoever gave those orders could have been using me. Using us all. If we’re the bad guys then… the people I’ve… crossed off… they could have been good guys.” I put the towel down and sigh. “I owe you, Rogers.”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay.”

“I really thought… HYDRA was gone.”

“Well, yeah so did I, I killed their leader.”

“No… there’s something else.”

I know he’s frowning as he looks at me. “What?”

“I told you about Romanoff’s mission in Odessa… after that I was put undercover. Two years, deep. As a scientist researching the super soldier serum; from Romanoff’s debrief that seemed like the best option for a cover story. We had to find out about these threats that came outta nowhere. HYDRA picked me up. We never even considered them, I didn’t know it was them until later so I told Fury. At first… he thought it was just pockets, ya know? Thugs. People who wanted to take the reputation HYDRA had to scare competition. They had a secret… I kept coming up with nothing in my three-monthly check ins but I felt like I was close. Anyone interested in the serum had to know something, right? Then we found you and… I don’t know, maybe if Fury didn’t pull me out, I would have found the Winter Soldier and Fury wouldn’t be dead.”

“You didn’t know. No one did. These aren’t thugs. They’re organised and have been for a long time to be able to infiltrate SHIELD like they have,” he says sternly.

“If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life, now you be honest with me, would you trust me to do it?”

“I would now. You’re not a bad person, Y/N. I can see that, I don’t have to know you that well to know that. And I’m always honest,” he adds, causing a slight smile to appear on my face.

“Well, you seem pretty chipper for someone who just found out that killing the Red Skull did nothing to stop HYDRA.”

“Well,” he leans back on the chair. “I guess I just like to have a face to put on the people I’m up against.”

“Breakfast is ready…” Sam says. “If you… eat.”

“I like him,” I say.

“So do I.”

We stand and follow Sam to see the eggs, bacon and toast laid out on the table. “This is so sweet, thank you, Sam.”

He smiles. “I wanna help.” And I know it’s about providing us with a meal.

“We-we can’t ask that of you,” I say, knowing he’s not referring to cooking breakfast for us.

“You don’t have to because I’m offering.”

Steve nods. “Alright.”

“You’re just a civilian, right now,” I object.

“So are you, disgraced SHIELD agent.”

I huff, that’s fair.

Steve updates Sam on what has happened as I eat the breakfast so kindly prepared.

“So, the question is, who at SHIELD could launch a domestic missile strike?”

“Pierce,” Steve answers.

“Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world,” I saw before having a bite of buttered toast. Yum.

“But he’s not working alone, Zola’s algorithm was on the Lemurian Star.”

Thinking back, I go through all the names of the hostages on the ship. “So was Jasper Sitwell,” the only field officer on a ship of technicians and scientists.

Steve frowns. “So the question is how do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a SHIELD officer in broad daylight?”

“The answer is, you don’t,” Sam says then he places a file on the table.

“What’s this?”

“Call it a resume.”

“Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission. That was you?” I say looking at the picture. “You didn’t say he was a pararescue,” I say to Steve. “I heard they couldn’t bring choppers in because of the RPGs. What did you use? A stealth chute?”

“No. These,” Sam hands us the thicker file.

“I thought you said you were a pilot?” Steve says, surprised.

“I never said pilot.”

I finish my breakfast as they think of a plan to retrieve the… wings. The boys can handle that while I enjoy these eggs and locate Jasper Sitwell.

Steve kicks Sitwell through a rooftop door. “Tell me about Zola’s algorithm.” I follow after Steve, silently.

“Never heard of it,” the traitor says, out of breath and stumbling backwards.

“What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?”

“I was throwing up, I get sea sick.” This smartass. He almost falls back but Steve catches him, grabbing him by his shirt. He calms down and smirks. “Is this little display meant to insinuate that you’re gonna throw me off the roof? Coz it’s really not your style, Rogers.”

“You’re right. It’s not.” Steve smooths Sitwell’s jacket down. “It’s her’s.” He steps aside and I smile, kicking him off the roof as he screams. “Were you on the helicarrier when Barton tried to shoot us down?”

“What?” I say, caught off guard, as I stare down and the falling man.

“You said I had two more guesses.”

I chuckle, remembering what he was talking about. “No, I was on a short vacation by then. One more guess.”

“Where did you go?” he asks out of curiosity.

“Classified.”

“So it was a mission?”

“Classified,” I smirk. “Fine you got it outta me, I was at –“

Sam comes up with a still screaming Jasper who is dropped behind us.

“To be continued,” Steve comments as we approach the agent.

“Zola’s algorithm is a program for choosing Insight’s targets.”

“What targets?”

“You. The TV anchor in Cairo, the Under Secretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa city, Bruce Banner, Hank Pym, anyone who’s a threat to HYDRA. Now… or in the future.”

“The future?” Steve repeats. “How could it know?”

Sitwell chuckles. “How could it not?”

“The 21st century is a digital book,” he stands up, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Zola taught HYDRA how to read it. Zola’s algorithm evaluates people’s past to predict their future.”

“What then?” I ask, frowning.

He looks at me as if he’s noticed what he has revealed. “Pierce is gonna kill me…”

“What then?” I repeat.

“The Insight helicarriers cross people off that list. A few million at a time.”

Well Shit.

We get into a car, dragging Sitwell with us and we drive to the Triskelion.

“Insight launches in 16 hours, we’re cutting this a little close, fellas.”

Steve explains our plan of action which to no one’s surprise, Sitwell objects to. Before he can continue his rant there is a thud on the roof and an arm pulls him out through the car window.

I watch after him, seeing the metal arm of the Winter Soldier grabbing a gun from his holster. Moving fast, I slip through the two front seats and into Rogers’ lap, pulling his head forward to protect him as the Soldier shoots from the back seat to the front. Before the bullets reach us, Steve pulls on the break, causing the Soldier to fall forwards. Grabbing one of the guns, I aim but we get hit by a SHIELD Humvee from behind, causing me to drop the gun and the car to push forward toward the Asset. I fish for the gun, grabbing it as the steering wheel is ripped out of the car and Sam’s hands.

“Shit!”

I shoot after the Asset but he jumps off and onto the Humvee as we glide through the road, no way to control the car. We roll and Steve grabs each of us as we surf on the detached car door. The Soldier launches a bazooka at us but Steve pushes me away as I start running for cover so he takes the shot.

I dodge gunfire and moving cars, jumping off the bridge and using a grappling hook to safely get myself down and run but seeing his shadow, I stop just before the bridge and start shooting until he takes cover. I move to a cable car as the pissed off Asset rains bullets at my previous location. I shoot back and run as the bullets chase me.

As a diversion I record myself speaking on my communicator and play it on loop, placing it behind a row of cars as I take cover. I watch as he rolls a grenade to the source of the sound and it explodes so I jump up, using a car as a step up and kicking him in the face. I wrap my legs around him as I use my retractable steel bracelet to wrap around his neck as a garrotte but he gets his hands through and walks backwards, slamming me against a car. He gets his hands on me and throws to off of him and into another car. Geez. Before he shoots at me I grab an electric disc off my bracelet, throwing it at his arm to temporarily disable it as I run for my life.

“Get out of the way! Get away!” I yell at the panicking civilians then I feel a bullet pierce right through me. Stunned, I stumble backwards, resting on a car. I hear the soldier land not too far from my position and our eyes meet briefly as he aims at me. Steve runs in, giving me a chance to get away. Finally. Fuck me, why did I have to be the one to deal with him? As the two fight, I manage to get a hold of a dropped gun and slowly make my way back to them.

Steve flips the soldier over whose mask falls off as he lands. He turn around and I notice Steve’s stance stiffens.

“Bucky?”

“Who the hell’s Bucky?” the Asset asks. Sam kicks him, sending him flying but he’s too distracted, shaken to go after him. His eyes go wild, confused and lost as he looks at the mask now on the ground. He takes out a gun, aiming for Steve and instead of shooting directly at him I purposely target for behind him.

I recognize the STRIKE team’s vehicles coming for us and there’s no where to run. Agents put handcuffs on me and walk to the their vehicle, doing the same to Steve and Sam, confiscating their weapons and loading us up.

“What happened back there, Steve?” I ask. “Isn’t Bucky… your childhood friend?” I recall from reading the history books. He was the only Howling Commando to give his life in combat and was put on the SHIELD Wall of Valor as an honorary agent.

“It was him. He looked right at me like he didn’t even know me,” he says sadly.

“How is that even possible? It was like 70 years ago,” Sam asks.

“Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in 1943, Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did, helped Bucky survive the fall.”

“Zola did it to hurt you,” I say. “Using your best friend as their secret weapon, if they ever needed him to fight you. That’s why they chose him to experiment on…”

“Wow, classic evil guy tactic,” Sam comments.

“None of that is your fault, Steve,” I say softly.

“Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.”

“Y/N, you’re bleeding badly,” Sam notices. “We need to get a doctor here. If we don’t put pressure on that wound, she’s gonna bleed out here in the truck.”

The masked agent pulls out an electrified baton, causing Sam to stop talking and jump back. They don’t use it on him though as they flip it in their hand to hit their partner who groans but passes out before he could do anything.

“Ah, that thing was squeezing my brain. Who’s this guy?” Hill removes her helmet.

“Long story,” I whisper. It feels like when I talk it hurts more.

Hill accepts that and uses a laser cutter to cut a hole in the floor and we slip out.

“I have a car waiting,” Hill says. “There are still agents on the right side.”

We arrive at a dam and Steve helps me down from the SUV, allowing me to lean on him as we follow Hill.

“GSW, she’s lost at least a pint,” Hill yells.

“Maybe two,” Sam adds.

“Let me take her!” A doctor I don’t recognize says, meeting us.

“She’ll wanna see him first.” I frown, who could I possibly wanna see right now, apart from a doctor to stitch me up?

Leading us into a room, there was no way I could have expected it. Fucking Fury, of course he’s alive.

“About damn time,” he mumbles then lists all his injuries.

“You’re too stubborn to die,” I say as the doctor sits me down to attend to my gunshot.

“Why all the secrecy?” Steve asks.

“Any attempt on the Director’s life had to look successful,” Maria explains.

“Can’t kill you if you’re already dead. Besides, I didn’t know who to trust.”

“So we just had to get targeted by the Winter Soldier for you to trust us?” I ask.

“I trusted you, that’s why I had you go to the apartment. I knew you’d find the truth, along with Rogers.”

“Well, you’re really gonna hate what we’ve found out,” Steve says.

“Alexander Pierce is the head of HYDRA,” I say, ripping off the band aid.

Fury nods slowly, processing. “That man declined a Nobel Peace Prize. He said that peace wasn’t an achievement. It’s a responsibility,” he scoffs bitterly. “See, it’s stuff like this that gives me trust issues.”

“We have to stop the launch,” I say.

“I don’t think the Council is accepting my calls anymore,” Fury states. He opens a briefcase with three drives in it.

“What’s that?” Sam asks.

“Once the helicarriers reach 3,000 feet, they’ll triangulate with Insight satellites, becoming fully weaponized,” Hill briefs.

“We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own,” Fury adds.

“One of two won’t cut it, we need to link all three for this to work. If even one of those ships remains operational, a whole lot of people are gonna die.”

Fury starts on his plan to rebuild SHIELD but Steve has none of it, interrupting. “We’re not just taking down the carriers, Nick. We’re taking down SHIELD.”

“SHIELD had nothing to do with this!” Fury defends.

“You gave me this mission. This is how it ends. SHIELD’s been compromised, you said so yourself. HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed.”

“We’re meeting in this cave because I noticed.”

“How many paid the price before you did? You didn’t trust Y/N when she said she was close to something. If she had stayed, you would have realized how important that mission would be. You have to stop underestimating people, Nick. Your enemies as well as your friends.”

“Look, I didn’t know about Barnes.”

“Even if you did, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that too? SHIELD, HYDRA… it all goes.”

“He’s right,” Hill agrees.

“And you? You grew up in SHIELD. Trained, educated…” Fury asks me.

I shake my head. “This is the right thing to do. It was all a lie.”

“Well, looks like you’re giving the orders now, Cap.”

I find Steve on the bridge overlooking the water.

“I found the council woman. Hill had a photostatic veil ready for me to use…” I choose not to acknowledge his solemn look until he chose to.

“The other person… the one that called me annoying, was Bucky,” he starts referring to our earlier conversation. “He’s all I had. All I ever had. The day I thought I lost him was the worst day of my life.”

I place a hand on his back. “Do you think you can save him?”

“I have to try. I owe it to him to try.”

“And if you can’t? What if… he doesn’t let you?”

“He will. Suit up, it’s time.” He starts to walk and I frown.

“You’re not fighting in that are you?”

“No. If you’re gonna fight a war, you gotta wear a uniform.”

💖

Thanks for reading! Have a new fic idea but should probably get more of this one done before I start writing two at once but I’m so excited for it 🤩🤩😭

Chapter 5

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #platonic #slowburn #steve rogers x platonic!reader #winter soldier #captain america #sam wilson #mavel #marvel fic #mcu #series rewrite

34 notes · View notes

rawdogmeharry · 4 years ago

Text

anything [part 2 to everything]

or, the one where Y/N is the love of Harry's life and all he wants to do is marry her.

ask and you shall receive <3

requests go here:)

masterlist

•

Somewhere on the Amalfi coast.

Somewhere on the Amalfi coast, on some hot, grainy sand, under some soft azure skies, beside some crystal clear blue water lay Harry, and the love of his life, Y/N.

And Harry really can't keep his hands off his lovie.

Her lilac bikini, that perfectly accentuates her curves. The stretchmarks she adorns a lot more prominent on her already tanned skin. The smooth skin of her plushy thighs, wide hips and full tits. Is it even normal to get this many boners per day?, Harry thinks.

It drives him insane, really. He doesn't understand how a person can be as unearthly gorgeous as his girl is.

And to think Harry was going to ask this beautiful creature to marry him in just a few hours was undescribeable. It made Harry want to shit himself.

Of course, Harry hopes for the best. Harry knows the best. He knows she's gonna say yes, and not just to be a dick about it, but he knows his lovie. Better than anyone—better than she knows her own self.

He also knows how much she loves him. Knows it best probably from the way her touches bring electricity all the way down to his core and through every nerve ending in his body, as if the love seeping from her veins was trying to force its way into Harry. No need for force though, Harry thinks, he's capable of accepting and cherishing any and every single ounce of her love she's willing to give.

Also knows it from the way he doesn't have to say a word, and she already knows exactly what he needs. Knows him like the back of her hand, honestly, and Harry thinks that this is the actual reason they're meant to be—they really do know each other better than they know each themselves.

And Harry did end up choosing a serene spot on the Amalfi coast in Italy to propose. He figured since he'd already taken her to Paris for her birthday not even a mere month earlier, they should travel to a place they'd both never been to before.

Remember this place for the rest of their lives, make it go down in history as the place where and unseparable bond between them was made, and visit for every single anniversary. Harry's got it all planned out.

"Y'know, even with my eyes closed I can feel you staring at my boobs, Harry."

"Well why are they all up in my face for?"

"They're really not, Har. Y'could at least stop starin' at them in public. Y'watchin' them like a hawk watches his prey."

"Baby, y'know it's like some sort of magnetic pull between me 'n your tits. It's 'cause they are m'prey, lovie, gonna eat 'em all up once we get back to the hotel," Harry says and rolls over on the beach towel onto his stomach and leans his head on one hand. Fuckin' beautiful, is what she is, he thinks whilst tilting his head and staring at Y/N.

"Yeah? Y'promise?" She smiles at him.

He gives her a broad smile back, "Cross my heart, hope to die."

Y/N rolls onto her side on the small towel as well, and throws one of her thighs onto his hip, "think we should head back soon, then. Also, m'heads killin' me. Think it's from the sun. Want a nap and you kissing on my boobs."

Harry frowns, "y'heads hurtin', baby? Why didn't y'say so before? We could've went back way earlier. Um—will you be okay to still go to dinner tonight?"

She gives him a shy smile, "of course I'll be okay to go, Harry. Just gonna take an Ibuprofen or something and I'll be as good as new."

Harry lets out a sigh of relief in his head. The dinner he's been planning for almost three weeks now is happening in just a few hours, and nothing can go wrong, because if something does, he's really going to cry. He's sure he's going to cry if everything goes right, as well.

Eitherway, Harry's gonna need some tissues.

He lifts her warm thigh off his hip and gently squeezes it, stands up and puts both arms out to her, "up y'get then, lovie."

```

After a much needed two hour nap and a love making session after getting up when lovie's head wasn't hurting anymore, both Harry and Y/N are almost finished getting ready.

His darling stands in the bathroom in front of the mirror, leaning over the counter just a tiny bit so she could see a bit better and not get the soft pink lipstick all over her face.

And when Harry walks in on her in this position, his knees nearly buckle.

The slender curve of her back, the hem of her turquoise dress barely reaching mid-thigh and sitting tight on her hips.

Now is not the time to get a boner.

"Lovie, y-you look so fucking beautiful. I—I really don't have any words."

She gives him a shy smile through the mirror and he gives her one back, a light pink blush littering her cheeks from the stammering of his kind words, "thank you, baby. You look as handsome as ever." He thinks she might hear his heartbeat all the way from the doorway.

This time, his smile is so broad his teeth show and his dimple pops out, "nothin' compared to you, baby. Yeh about ready, then, gorgeous?"

"You really want some steak, huh? Let's go then, you impatient man," Y/N giggles.

If only she knew that the steak was the last thing on his mind right now, Harry thought.

```

After eating the best medium-well steak both of them had ever had, Y/N considers unzipping the zipper on the side of her dress. She literally feels like she's about to burst.

And Harry does too. Just not from the steak.

The steak was really good, Harry will admit that, and the wine was also not that bad (for six hundred dollars per bottle, it could've been better, he thinks), but these are really irrelevant things compared to the other's he's thinking right now.

And while Harry's close to having a heart attack, Y/N slowly leans back on her chair, puts her arms on the arm rests and tries to discreetly push out her stomach. She then takes one of her hands and slowly rubs it on her bloated belly, stroking it as if she was pregnant.

Petting her steak filled belly she looks around, and only then realises that just the two of them are left on the second floor of the restaurant.

The restaurant was situated outside, underneath the starry sky, and built right into a cave, with a view of the calm ocean right in front of them.

"Harry, d'you think they're about to close soon? We're literally the only people left."

Here goes nothing, Harry thinks.

"No, baby, that's how it's supposed to be."

She gives him a confused face, genuinely not understanding what he's just said, "huh? What's supposed to be?"

He slowly stands up, walks over to her chair and notices the hand stroking her little pouched out belly and immediately smiles. She's so fucking cute. Bends down to her face to face and puts his big hands on her small cheeks, "Just listen t'me, baby. No questions, just all ears for me now, yeah?"

She's even more confused now. "Yeah, okay."

He gives her a quick kiss, shortly trapping her bottom lip between his own. "Right. Here it goes."

Harry pulls away from her, and very slowly gets down onto one knee in front of her, quickly pulling out a small emerald green velvet box from his inner jacket pocket.

Y/N is in shock. She wouldn't be surprised if she went into cardiac arrest right then and there. Then it all comes together.

The way he was fidgeting with his hands all the way to the restaurant earlier in the evening, so much that she had to put her hands on his, just so he could properly hold the steering wheel. She didn't choose to question that, figured he'd tell her on his own time, when he felt comfortable about speaking of what he was so scared? of, after he gave her an appreciative, but shaky smile.

The shaking of his hands while he was cutting his steak. She really thought that was because of the steak.

The small beads of sweat gathering at the top of his forehead anytime he would make direct eye contact with her during the evening. She thought that the warm climate had taken its toll on him.

She feels stupid. That's why he's been so nervous, she thinks. Everything makes sense now.

"Y/N—I-I've literally forgotten every word I rehearsed for m'speech. Um—'m so nervous I think even m'tongues shakin' so 'm sorry, but I still want to say a few things."

He can barely hold the box in his clammy hands from the shaking.

And she already feels a few droplets of salty tears coming down her face.

Harry takes a deep breath. "Y/N Y/L/N, y'the love of m'life. Nobody comes close to the place you hold in m'heart. I know this is corny t'say, but I really did fall in love with you the first time I saw you. Fell in love with your kindness, compassion and the love you show t'the people most important to yeh. Couldn't imagine spendin' m'life with anybody else by m'side. Can't wait to marry you, bawl m'eyes out when I see you walk down the aisle and later have babies with yeh. Beautiful, beautiful babies, just like their mummy. Take you all over the world, show you places we'll remember for the rest of our lives. Make love every night and mornin', spend the days baskin' in each other's love. Um—know 'm just ramblin' anythin' and I can promise yeh my wedding vows are gonna be a million times better, but will yeh do the honors and make all m'dreams come true? Marry me and be mine, lovie?"

He starts to open the box containing the beautiful custom diamond ring he'd had made just for her but he can barely see where the opening is because of his tear-filled eyes.

And Y/N doesn't even look at the ring, doesn't really need to, even though she's extremely grateful, she knows she'd marry him if he gave her a ring with an engraved pickle on it.

She quickly shuts the little box and wraps her arms so hard around his shoulders, she nearly brings the both of them down to the wooden floor of the restaurant.

"Yes, Harry," she chokes out through her tears and feels his arms wrap tighter around her than ever, "yes. I love you so much. Of course I'll marry you."

Harry hasn't ever been happier than he is in this moment.

#harry-angst #harry styles imagines #fanfic #harry angst #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles one shots #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic

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shroomcult · 3 years ago

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Hey folks!

Here’s my Day 1 post for Soma Week 2021. Tooth-rotting fluff towards the end - please enjoy. ^-^

@soulxmakaweek

Maka awoke with an audible groan, first registering the lack of her weapon’s familiar soul wavelength in the room before anything else. Whether she was disappointed or grateful of his absence was difficult to determine in her hazy mindstate.

Soul had been fussing over her for the past day, and while his concern for her comfort was endearing - his mother hen routine got old fast.

His over-attentive behavior was at least understandable. He had little to do cooped up in their hotel room, and ended up alternating between watching cooking shows at a considerately low volume, pacing around what little square footage they had, and laying in his bed beside hers tapping out the rhythm to whatever was blaring from his headphones. He was sure to pester her about how she was feeling at least every 20 minutes and his restlessness had been grinding on her last nerve before she fell into a fitful sleep.

If she had to hear “you okay?” or “need anything?” one more time, she was liable to snap and throw the closest object to her directly at his dumb, fluffy head. Not that he actually deserved it.

If she were being honest with herself, she was mostly frustrated with the situation itself - not Soul.

Well, maybe she was a little frustrated with Soul.

He may have been outwardly kind towards her in her predicament, but she could feel something else beneath the surface of that. She was well-versed in the subtle language of Soul’s facial expressions after all.

He was dying to tease her, and while she commended him for keeping his mouth blessedly shut about the humor in her suffering - she knew it amused him at least a little bit.

Because despite the fact that they had been sent to the bustling beach-side city of Recife, Brazil to take down a particularly cunning and repulsive kishin - she was not stuck in bed over any kind of work-related injury inflicted during their battle with the corrupted beast.

There was no glory or dignity that could be gained from the current state of her weakness. She had not received her injuries from a tense and thrilling battle, but instead from being negligent in her application of sunscreen before falling asleep splayed out on a beach towel under the unforgiving afternoon sun.

Soul had even recommended that she apply sunscreen a second time for her “hella pasty” skin and she responded to his comment in kind by throwing the sunscreen bottle at him with impressive accuracy and force.

Now she was bedridden with what was likely sun poisoning and had a complexion comparable to a hot dog.

Perhaps she should have taken Soul’s advice after all.

She also may have reached her last straw with Soul’s smothering behavior earlier and said something along the lines of “please get the hell out of here and give me at least an hour of peace,” before taking her rather unsatisfying nap.

That certainly explained his absence.

She let out a heavy sigh before deciding she would deal with the pain of moving so that she could re-apply aloe vera for the twentieth time that day. Only this was the first time she would be doing it without Soul’s assistance.

It was difficult to reach most areas of her back without him. She was certainly flexible enough to do it on her own, but the pain that came with stretching her arms was something she would prefer to avoid experiencing if possible.

She started on lathering her arms and chest area first, grounding herself in the way it stung yet soothed at the same time.

She only got through a small portion of her back before the combination of fatigue, nausea, and pain convinced her to give it a rest.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just figure out where Soul was. She didn’t need him or anything. She was just checking in - making sure he didn’t get himself into any trouble while she was asleep.

She made an awkward hobble across the room to retrieve her phone, careful to avoid bending her scorched appendages on the way there.

It only took a ring and a half for Soul to pick up her call, and she cursed herself for the way her entire body relaxed a little at the sound of his voice.

“Hey. Everything alright?”

He had that pleasant gravelly quality to his voice that usually indicated he either just woke up or he had a few drinks.

“I’m fine, Soul. I just woke up, actually. What have you been up to?” she’d tried to sound casual, but the hitch in her voice when she tried to lower herself back on to the bed betrayed her. The soft cotton sheets felt like they may as well have been a brillo pad against her sensitive flesh.

“Just givin’ you space like you asked. Found a neat little place to drink just down the road from us. To be honest with you, I think it might be a swinger bar or somethin’ - everyone here is middle aged and horny as hell.”

Maka felt a twinge of irritation at that last comment. Was he really off flirting with a bunch of Brazillian cougars while she was stuck in bed?

“S’not like I’m interested, but they keep buyin’ me drinks anyway. I don’t speak very good Portuguese and they seem to think that’s pretty sexy of me,” he added with a throaty chuckle that raised goosebumps across her skin.

“Why don’t you just stay there all night then! I could care less what you do!!”

She felt a bit childish for her outburst, but blamed it on Soul’s innate ability to push every last button she has in very few words.

“If you don’t care, then why’d ya call me in the first place?” She could just tell that his lip was curling into a smirk by his voice alone. Oh, he is so lucky he’s not in book-throwing distance.

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead in a ditch somewhere,” she murmured with only a little bit of edge left in her.

“Oh yeah? That all?”

“.... Also, I guess you can come back to the hotel room.”

“Sorry? Can you speak up a little?”

“I said you can come back to the hotel room! Don’t make me say it again or you can sleep on the streets!”

He responded with an amused snort, “Oh, that’s very gracious of you. What a loving and benevolent meister I have.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t fall in a ditch on your way here.”

“Love ya too, Maka. Be there in a few.”

With that the phone call cut off, and she was left staring at the ceiling and feeling an overwhelming warmth in her face.

She decided to blame that on the sunburn rather than her weapon’s comment.

It only took about 20 minutes before she heard the click of the hotel door as it swung open, her partner poking his head in first and flashing her a shark-toothed smile before he kicked the door open the rest of the way. He was carrying an entire pack of drinks under his arm and a plastic CVS bag in the other.

“Stopped by CVS round the corner. Dunno if you’ll like ‘em, but I got these weird electrolyte drinks. S’posed to help hydrate you better or something,” he said as he plopped down at the end of the bed, emptying the contents of the plastic bag.

“Also got you some ibuprofen, more aloe, and a couple snack things. I know you said you weren’t hungry, but you should really try and eat at least a little bit.”

Maka only nodded, slightly overwhelmed by how caring he was being despite her recently sour attitude.

He tilted his head to the side for a moment, regarding her with gentle eyes before he got up and sat closer to her on the bed, being especially careful not to let his legs touch hers.

He slowly placed the back of his hand against her forehead muttering something about a fever, but she was too focused on his close proximity to her to even register what he was saying. He smelled of beer and limes and sunscreen.

His skin was a perfect bronze color, and he was showing off a lot more of it than he usually did. He was clad only in swim trunks, slider sandals, and a loose-hanging tank top that the top of his scar peeked out of.

He had been out in the sun just as long as she had, napping right beside her even, and yet his skin only tanned; never burned. The lucky bastard.

He used the same hand he’d checked her forehead with to brush back a few stray hairs from her face. “Sleep okay?” he asked in a hushed tone, as if he were worried his voice would bother her.

“I slept okay, I guess. Not much else I can do right now anyways.”

He nodded and gave a sympathetic click of his tongue, running his hand through her hair a few times before reaching for the aloe on the nightstand.

“Need me to get your back?”

She ignored his question, opting to rub the short-cropped silver whiskers covering his jaw with her palm.

“You need to shave.”

He rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated huff, squeezing the tube of aloe into his palms and rubbing them together.

“I’ll just take that as a yes and pretend you think I’m roguishly handsome.”

That earned him a laugh from her that clipped short when he placed his hands softly on her back. It only hurt for the first brief moment of contact, but she soon hummed her approval as the stinging sensation in her back felt dulled and soothed wherever his hands caressed her.

He was talented with his hands - knew just the right amount of pressure to give and take at each moment. She really had needed this. Trying to reach that spot between her shoulder blades on her own had been a nightmare.

Minutes passed with only the sounds of their breath and Soul’s practiced hands over her skin. It should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. Everything was just easy with him.

“Hey, Soul?”

He acknowledged her with a noncommittal grunt.

“Thank you. I know I haven’t exactly been pleasant lately, but I really do appreciate all of your help.”

She wanted to say more, it felt as though she hadn’t really expressed to him how much he means to her, but Soul wasn’t one for flowery words and declarations of love. She knew that was enough of a thanks for him.

“You don’t gotta thank me for all that, Maka. We’re partners, this is what we do for each other.”

“Right,” she whispered, a faint smile gracing her lips.

“All done,” he announced, “you gonna hang tight and read for a bit?”

“No - I’d like to, but I just feel too tired and nauseous to focus on anything like that right now. Maybe I’ll just try to take another nap.”

Without a word, he sauntered over to the book she had brought - a period-piece romance novel that he would make fun of at the first given opportunity. After it was in his grasp, he collapsed on his back right next to her. He really did kind of reek of beer, but she didn’t have the heart to push him away.

Once he found her bookmarked spot, he started from the top of the page with a hardy clear of his throat, reading the lead male love interest’s lines in the most posh and ridiculous accent she could have imagined.

She immediately burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles and snorts, which only encouraged him to continue, smiling from ear to ear as he did.

She nearly ran out of breath when he began reading the female heroine’s dialogue in a shrill voice that sounded more like an old British nanny than a pretty young woman.

He continued this entertainment for an admirable hour and a half before he had to admit that his vocal cords were defeated from the strain of ‘fancy British lady voice.’

By the time he had put the book aside, she had a hand curled around his bicep and her face was buried in his neck.

He’d said he was watching TV, but he fell asleep within 10 minutes of setting her book down much like an old man.

Her skin felt dry and tight, a feeling she was easily able to ignore while Soul was reading for her. She was aware that she’d need to get up soon to re-apply aloe, or she’d regret it later. Yet, it was so difficult to move away from him.

He was breathing deeply, and he smelled less like a bar and more like a beach the closer she was to him. He always looked so peaceful when he slept too. He looked young, like he didn’t carry the exhaustion that he usually does.

Despite the calm, collected demeanor he always tried to hold around others - he carried a lot of weight on his shoulders from pretending to be the person that other people need him to be. From taking the load off other people’s backs, he only strained himself and she felt this tiredness from it all that seeped into the very cracks of his soul.

She wished he didn’t have to try so hard all the time. She wished he could let himself be taken care of for once.

“I know you told me before that I don’t need to thank you. That the things you do for me are what I should expect from a partner, but you really are more than that to me, Soul,” she’d only whispered this into the crook of his neck, but she lifted her head up just to check that he was still unconscious.

He appeared serene, his breathing steady and not a crinkle in his face to indicate her words had disturbed him from his slumber.

“You can always depend on me too. I’d love to take care of you the way you take care of me. You deserve that - you know that, right?”

Not even a twitch.

She sighed, not expecting him to respond in the first place, but a little disappointed she hadn’t had the courage to tell him this while he was awake. She assumed it safe that he was in a deep sleep and began threading her fingers through his thick tufts of hair sticking up from his forehead.

“I know that when you say you love me, you’re talking about as a partner, as a friend. Well, I love you too. I love you a lot, Soul. I’m always afraid to say it back ... because it would carry a different weight when I say it. It’s like I’m afraid you’d just know.”

His breath hitched for a moment and her heart nearly jumped into her throat.

He only readjusted slightly, pressing his cheek against the top of her head and making a small sound akin to a whimper before his breathing evened out again.

She let out the shaky breath she had been holding and turned her head ever so slightly to press a soft kiss to his throat, where she could feel the warmth of his pulse.

“I hope we stay partners for a really long time.”

#SoMaWeek2021 #SoulxMakaweek #soul evans #maka albarn #soul eater

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 27

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: If you read carefully, you knew this; if you didn't: reader was drugged at the party. Hangover from Hell ft. boys being cute, Loki being best friend material and reader fully integrating him into the Gen-Z community via Monster energy drinks and depressive music whilst being sad. I live for Loki/reader friendship tbh.

So folks, this is the last big plot thing before the endgame. I reckon it's about 10-15 chapters left until out happy ending and the next bit is going to focus on developing reader's and Stephen's relationship. There will be smutty parts too - either chapters or interludes, idk, depending on how well they'll integrate into the story.

I love y'all.

Ow, was my first thought upon waking up. My head throbbed something fierce, the pressure behind my eyelids was unbearable and my mouth tasted like a bog on a sunny summer's day. I was warm, from both sides, and one of the bodies felt foreign in everything besides the smell - sandalwood leaked through the lead curtain of alcohol and sex.

Needless to say, I had trouble piecing together the fine details of last night but had enough coherence to remember our... Activities. I was sore and Strange's long arm was still possessively draped over both me and Tony. The luck was on my side as I carefully wiggled out of his grasp, padding to the bedroom on quiet feet. The sorcerer barely moved, only grumbling briefly at the loss of my warmth and immediately quieting, shamelessly snuggling into Tony.

I would have not exaggerated if I said it was the worst hangover of my life. It was baffling, really, because I'd gone way wilder and didn't suffer half as much after effects; my first attempt to brush my teeth ended with my face resting against the toilet bowl, my empty stomach rejecting what little liquid in it was left as the room spun on its axis. That was incredibly embarrassing and I hoped my boys wouldn't wake up to witness my best impression of a bum - and they didn't, both men still sound asleep and interwined like snakes when I put on the shirt closest to me and departed in search of coffee.

My mood only worsened. Steve and Bucky were already up, shoveling an impressive amount of eggs and bacon, as Bucky quietly teased Steve about his own hangover. The blonde man was slightly greenish, disheveled - we traded equally glum looks and nodded to each other in silence. The smell of food made my stomach churn and I retreated, one black coffee in hand, towards Bruce's lab, having been informed by Friday that neither Tony not Stephen planned on waking up.

"Morning, Princess," Bruce smiled kindly, pushing his glasses out of the way to hold me close and give me a sweet kiss. "Had fun? The boys still asleep?"

I giggled at Bruce calling Tony and Stephen boys. "Yeah. I wouldn't be wearing Stephen's shirt if he was up and about, I think." I pointed out the obvious.

Bruce chuckled, holding my face to give me a long, thoughtful look. I stared back, hoping convey my respect and adoration without having to say a word; like Tony, I wasn't particularly apt when it came to talking feelings. Whatever Bruce was looking for, he found it, and sealed it with another kiss, twice as long and twice as sweet. We stood like that, my head on his shoulder and my arms firmly holding him to myself, until the elevator dinged behind the glass wall, revealing a shirtless Stephen and Tony in his pajama pants, both men bickering animatedly.

"Aw shit, here we go again," I rolled my eyes, unhappy about the possibility of the magic being broken. I rather preferred all three men to be like yesterday: friendly, kind and relaxed.

"I will kick them out if I have to," Bruce shrugged, turning me around to face them.

Tony smiled, seeing me, stopping mid-conversation. "Princess, I am disappointed in your lack of manners. You left me with Merlin and he is mean." The engineer unceremoniously snatched me from Bruce and smooched me, hangover breath and all.

"Gross, Tony," I rolled my eyes, giving the man a light shove in the chest. "Morning, Steph," I addressed the third man who had gone back to his usual stoic expression. Just to see his resolve crack, because I loved pushing his buttons, I gave him a good morning kiss too, and was unexpectedly blown away by the eager response from his side. As I pulled back, I noticed his cheeks dusting a light pink.

"I came to get my shirt but I think you'd rather keep it," The sorcerer's fingers caressed my skin beneath the collar of his shirt, voice still low and scratchy from sleep and those magnetic eyes fixated on the exposed flesh of my chest, no trace of previous awkwardness.

"You sure 'bout that?" I pushed one of the sides off, exposing my shoulder, seeing Tony gulp the remainder of my coffee, one hand already messing with the screen that Bruce was focused on. "I think I look better without it," I would never miss an opportunity to tease the uptight man.

"Quite," He grinned, "It's a shame I didn't get to see much last night..." Two could play this game, okay.

"Oh, but you will," Tony piped up suddenly, a hint of smugness in his voice barely covered by Bruce's fond chuckle. I really didn't know what to say, suddenly overwhelmed with the attention, my emotions amplified by the hangover - party drugs tended to exaggerate my anxiety on the comedown.

And what a comedown it was. My social energy ran out very quickly so I complained about a nasty headache and retreated into my room, Bruce's gentle hands pressing a bottle of Ibuprofen into my own. Despite my attempts to tame my rioting body, it got worse before it got better and shortly before lunch, I had thrown up twice more. Pissed off, I ran a bath with cold water and sat in it until I felt somewhat human to prepare myself for a journey to Wanda's apartment - as a last resort, I was going to chug on of Pietro's Monster energy drinks that I knew he kept hidden there.

The retrieval was a success. Cans securely hidden in the kangaroo pocket of Tony's oversized hoodie I had thrown on, I had to make a haste detour to throw up once again - the closest bathroom was in Loki's apartment and I only managed to knock twice before throwing open the door and making a mad dash for the porcelain throne, a very confused Asgardian following my movements with raised eyebrows.

"Hangover from Hell," I croaked once the first wave subsided. Loki nodded in understanding, waved a hand to summon me a water bottle and shut the door behind himself.

As I sat there, desperately trying to understand why was I feeling like utter shit... It clicked. Bile rose to my throat once again, and I just dry heaving, mulling my revelation over and over again.

I didn't take any drugs. I had been drugged. My memories became hazy and dream-like shortly after someone had given me the drink... Someone, who? It was a split-second moment; Sam, even in his drunk state, didn't keep his eyes off me for too long. Maybe it had been someone the team knew? Possibilities began playing out in my head. Cursed was my overactive brain - the anxiety from the leftover drugs was making me panic.

"Fuck, FUCK," My hands shook - I only noticed it because I had spilled water on myself, adding cold and wet to the unpleasant sensations I was already experiencing. "Why am I such a fucking fuck-up." Taking a drink from a stranger seemed downright idiotic now. Middle school bullshit.

"Are you alright?" Loki's worried voice interrupted my inner monologue.

"Yes," I replied, voice cracking. "No. I don't fucking know."

The door all but flew open, the Asgardian taking several long strides to take a good long look at me. The frown on his face tells me all I needed to know about my physical and mental state.

A slender hand tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "What happened?"

I laughed tersely, feeling tears to begin welling in the corners of my eyes. "I'm an idiot," Seeing his face get annoyed briefly, I conceded: "I got drugged yesterday. My drink."

The hand that he had slid between my shoulder blades froze. I felt his whole body go rigid and his nostrils flare, the smell of ozone and something foreign - magic - filling the small space. The air around us became charged with the power of his anger. "Pardon?" His voice was dangerously quiet.

I physically fought with the need to flinch away from him, settling for lowering my eyes and staring at the dark stain on my hoodie. "I got carried away dancing. Someone handed me a drink and my stupid ass just shotgunned it," I confessed, picking at the wet spot. "And I can't tell anybody because I had a threesome with Stephen and Tony," I suddenly realised, my voice raising in pitch. "They're gonna think I didn't want it and feel bad. You know how Tony blames himself for everything under the sun..." Another wave of dizziness and nausea hit me as I leaned against the wall closest to me.

"Alright," Loki conceded after a brief pause. "We absolutely are telling the others. I'll make sure they understand," The Asgardian stated firmly in a tone that bore no argument. Seeing me lift my head to protest, he interrupted me before I could say anything: "Did you... Did you want it?" He asked me, hooking a single finger under my chin to look me in the eye.

I nodded, feeling my face heat up.

"You're not lying. The team knows of my ability to detect lies. Nobody will blame anyone..." Loki trailed off, obviously already plotting something. I wished it were a prank both of us were conspiring on instead of... Trying to make sense of this cluster fuck of a shit show. The circus called, they seemed to have left their clowns behind. "Although I will have a word with Sam." The Asgardian muttered darkly.

"No, it's not his fault. I just got too relaxed, I need to pucker up and be responsible for myself," I protested, damn well knowing it wasn't the Bird's fault. Everyone was drunk and I should've known better.

"It's not yours either," Loki sneered, seeing right through my self-loathing. It took a deep, slow sigh for him to calm down. His expression softened and the hand that was on my back resumed the gentle stroking as he scooted closer to me to press my side against his chest. "Vile people of this kind aren't exclusive to Midgard. It could have happened to anyone."

I nodded, my logical part briefly taking over as the waves of nausea and dizziness waned. I stifled a giggle, coming to another sudden revelation. "You holding up my hair as I barf out my hangover? That makes you qualified for the position of my Best Friend," I stated with a snort.

Loki chuckled, relaxing bit by bit. "I accept the position," His voice was unusually soft and a little bit shaky; I chose to tactfully ignore it. "Shall I call for assembly in the war room?"

I sighed, the dread and anxiety creeping it's way back in. "Can we just... Wait a bit? I have something- hold on-" I rummaged around my pocket, taking out two cans of Monster. Loki eyed them curiously and I extended one to him. "It probably won't do much for you but for me it's a last-resort hangover cure." I popped open the metal cap, seeing him do the same. "Be warned though, it tastes kinda funky if you're not used to it," I announced the disclaimer but it simply egged Loki on.

The scrunched up face he made was pretty funny. "It's sour but sickeningly sweet at the same time? I can't tell," He briefly eyed the written ingredients on the can.

"There are a bunch of flavors. Pietro likes the plain one, I like the purple one better, it's not so tongue-burning." I paused to inhale loudly. "If this is what college life looks like, I don't want to go," Mustering up my courage and gathering my balls in a knot, with one broad motion I closed my nose and poured the carbonated acid down my throat until my eyes watered. "Gimme a minute," I hiccuped, trying to keep it down.

Wide-eyed, Loki took a chaste sip of his own drink, eyeing me warily. He looked part impressed part disgusted with the little stunt. "I am pretty certain that is counter-productive."

"Caffeine make brain and body go skrrt," I argued back. "Friday, play my "grant me the sweet release of death" playlist. I'm upset," I announced and the AI obliged silently, the first notes of Placebo's 'Exit Wounds' beginning to play. If I was going to mop in a stranger's bathroom, I was going to do it with style. Even if said style was just simply stealing in my own misery with emo background music.

Loki stared at me, I stared back, both of us lost in our respective minds. At one point, he began swaying to the music slightly, resting the cool tin of the can against his cheek; I followed suit, mouthing along to some of the lyrics. It took us about a dozen songs to finally finish the liquid acid that was Monster energy drink and my ass felt like the bathroom tile itself: flat and hard.

"Do you ever feel like the universe just hates you for no fucking reason?" I groused, taking Loki's outstretched hand and slowly feeling the blood rush back to my legs.

"You wouldn't believe," He rolled his eyes in solidarity, vanishing away the empty containers. "Norns, give me a Hel-damned break."

I laced his arm through mine as we exited his apartment, feeling considerably less upset than I was before. I couldn't protect myself, but one look at Loki's sullen, irritated expression was bound to scare off anyone who dared to interrupt our mission.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x y/n #tony stark x you #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader

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orange-imagines · 4 years ago

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Stitched Up

Mud Dogs X Reader (Platonic)

Warning(s) - Some mentions and brief descriptions of blood and injuries, but I didn’t describe anything in great detail

A/N - This wasn’t requested or anything, I just really wanted to do a full drabble for the prompt about the Mud Dogs with a medically experienced friend. Hope you guys enjoy!

They were late.

In all fairness, of course, it wasn’t as if the Mud Dogs were famously punctual, but at least Danny had a strong sense of time and was usually able to keep the other two on track. Though that didn’t seem to be the case today.

You tried not to think too hard about it, stretching out on the couch in your apartment, phone in hand, idling between three different apps as you waited. For what, you weren’t exactly sure. Maybe a text or call, either informing you that the job had run long, or that they couldn’t make it and would have to cancel your hangout entirely.

You ended up getting no such message. Instead, your front door opened a few moments later, and in walked the Mud Dogs, grumbling and aching as they closed the door behind them and dropped their set of spare keys onto the table by the door.

“Uh...hey,” you greeted, setting your phone down on the coffee table as you stood to greet them.

Only when they made their way into the living room, however, did you finally understand the reason behind their tardiness.

From what you could see, the Mud Dogs had gotten their asses kicked. Not only were they empty-handed, but Leonard and Mickey’s bodies were both scattered with bruises, the former with a noticeable gash on his left arm, and the latter messing with a crooked tooth as the group made their way into the living room.

With Danny’s body covered in fur, injuries were hard to see, but you could only assume he’d gotten a relatively similar treatment.

“Hey, Y/N,” Mickey greeted, mumbling his words as he continued to mess with his loose tooth.

“Hey, Y/N,” Danny greeted quietly, taking a seat on the cushioned chair across the room and letting out a long, relieved sigh as he sank into it.

“You guys...look like hell,” you said.

“Yeah, we just got back,” Leonard said, rolling his arm and cringing at the sting from his cut, “who could’ve known the pigs would show up early and completely screw our getaway?”

Mickey mumbled something from around his fin, but you weren’t able to make it out.

“We can’t understand ya with your fist in your mouth, Mick,” Danny grumbled, plucking his hat from his head and resting it over his face.

With a scoff, Mickey pulled his fin from his mouth, taking his newly pulled tooth with it, “I said ‘we didn’t even get the cash’!”

“Did you just…”

You trailed off, Mickey giving you a questioning look as he tossed his tooth over his shoulder.

“Gross.”

“What?”

“Your fucking- whatever. Look, are you guys okay? Do you need help? I’ve got a first aid kit.”

“Nah, we’re good, Y/N,” Leonard said, though the way he was clutching his arm said otherwise, “maybe just some, uh, headache medicine or something? Y’know that stuff?”

“...Ibuprofen?”

“Gazuntite.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose with a sigh, and heard Danny snicker from across the room.

“I’m getting the kit,” you said, “sit down.”

“Y/N, really-”

“Sit. Down.”

Not eager to risk incurring your wrath, Leonard took a reluctant seat on the couch, and Mickey sat on his right, slumping back against the pillow behind him.

You wasted no more time dipping out to make a quick stop in your bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit from under the sink and making sure to wash your hands for good measure. You hadn’t planned on stitching anything today, but you always made a habit of being prepared for it. Especially when you hung out with the people you did.

Upon returning to the living room, you took a seat on the arm of the couch to Leonard’s left, opening the kit between your legs and snapping on a pair of latex gloves.

“Mind if I ask...the hell are you doing?”

Leonard has his eyes trained on you in a cautious stare. It was obvious he hadn’t put the pieces together yet.

“Stitching this giant gash in your arm,” you explained, “so it doesn’t get infected, and so you don’t bleed all over my furniture.”

That was a joke, of course. The wound had already begun to dry.

“You’re qualified for that?” Danny asked. He’d come out from under his hat at that point and was straightening up to get a better view of the situation.

“Yeah,” you said, “I’ve done it to a banana.”

Several bananas, actually. And several people. But you thought it was funnier to watch Danny’s eyes bulge than let him know you knew what you were doing.

“Cool!” Mickey said, “Len’s gonna get a new scar!”

“Will you shut-”

“Just relax,” you said, “I’ve got mystic painkillers. Don’t worry about it.”

You could tell both Leonard and Danny were still skeptical about the idea, but they trusted you enough to let you do your thing. So, after wetting a towel and wiping the bloodied area on Leonard’s arm clean, you gave him a mystic painkiller, popped open a sterilized suture, and went to work.

“This is the coolest thing you’ve ever done,” you heard Mickey whisper from across the couch, watching with a surprising amount of admiration as you began to thread the first suture through.

“Cooler than that time I punched a police officer?”

“Way cooler.”

After finishing off and cutting the first suture, you popped open a second one and restarted the process. You could tell Leonard was still anxious from the way the muscles in his arm clenched as he rested his wrist on your leg, and you gave him a reassuring smile to try and help calm his nerves.

“Say...you’re not half bad at this.”

You hadn’t noticed Danny standing beside the couch until he spoke up.

“I hope so,” you said, “I’ve done this a lot, you know?”

“Yeah, on fruits,” Leonard grumbled.

“And people,” you added, “I’m not a noob.”

“How come you never told us?” Danny asked, “we could’ve been coming to you the whole time we’ve known ya and you were holding out on us?”

You shrugged, finishing off the second suture and cutting the excess string, “you never asked.”

Danny didn’t have a reply to that, so he just fell into silence and watched as you continued your work.

After about ten more minutes, you’d finished two more sutures and successfully stitched Leonard’s wound up. He was starting to complain about getting sore at that point, so you gave him the bottle of mystic painkillers and began unfurling a roll of bandages to wrap his arm up.

“Woah,” Mickey said, leaning across the couch to get a good look at your work, “that’s epic, dude!”

“Thanks,” you said, then used your elbow to push him away, “don’t breathe on it.”

Reluctantly, Mickey flopped back onto his side of the couch, and you went about wrapping Leonard’s arm.

“Am I the only one unsettled that you know how to do this?” Leonard said.

“No way, dude, this is so cool!” Mickey said, “you ever done stitches on yourself?”

“Well, I’ve never robbed a bank and gotten sliced up by the police before, so no.”

You finished wrapping Leonard’s arm and gave his hand a tap to let him know he could take it away. He did, and you excused yourself to go dispose of your gloves and clean up the first aid kit, placing it on the floor beside the couch once you were done.

“So, how you feeling?” Danny asked, nodding to Leonard’s arm.

“Sore as hell,” he said, “but...Y/N really knows their stuff.”

“‘Course I do,” you said, then pointed to Mickey, “you’re next.”

“Epic. Can you stitch my tooth back in?”

“Literally not even if you paid me.”

#rottmnt x reader #rottmnt imagines #rottmnt mud dogs x reader #if you notice any medical inconsistencies in this no you didn't <3 #also I Have actually sutured a banana before and it is the most annoying thing ever #yes this fic is just an excuse for me to be self-indulgent and make myself the Mud Dog Medic what of it?#rottmnt mud dogs

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ssa-daddyhotchner · 4 years ago

Text

Undercover - Chapter 2

Chapter Selection

It was too dark for me to see anything but I landed in something wet. I struggled to pull out my flashlight and used it on my hand when I pulled it up from the floor.

There was blood covering my hand. There was white chunks which didn't make sense until I looked down. There were body parts scattered around below me. Bone fragments.

I stayed quiet and looked around more with my flashlight; shining it on the walls. There were white sheets hanging to keep the blood off the walls. More part scattered around.

It smelled like death and rotting flesh.

Hearing shuffling from the center of the room I shine my light; I reveled Julia Martin. She had a gag, she was bound tightly to the table she was on with zip ties. Long gashes along her torso, arms and legs.

I hear movement upstairs; it sounds like more than one person. Hotch.

Something hit the wall, "Hotch!" I yelled to him but he didn't answer. I needed to get Julia out before I could help him.

I find the strength to get up and walk over undoing her restraints and pulling the gag out, "I'm with the FBI, are you okay", She had fear written all over her face.

Her breathing was erratic and she was shaking, "He's already here." She whispered those words.

Luckily when I fell through It didn't damage the stairs too bad. Julia and I walked up the stairs to see Hotch with a man in cuffs. "That's him." Julia pointed to the man as we walked out

Aaron POV

"Hotch, there's something down here", y/n yelled to me. I knew it was best if I kept a look out seeing as the unsub was gone. I could hear her moving downstairs and something else.

The floor boards behind me started to creek. I raised my gun slightly cocking my head to the side to try and hear it better. Someone was breathing behind me; they inhaled sharply and I jumped to the side and ducked around a wall.

I snapped around the corner and was met with a bat. I moved out of the way and it hit the wall. "Hotch!", y/n called out for me. I got distracted and was hit in the mouth with the end of the bat. He went to swing again and I caught it throwing the bat across the room.

I jumped at the man in front of me, slamming his back into the wall; grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and smashing him onto the ground. His face hitting the floor first. Bleeding from his nose and mouth.

Julia and y/n were walking upstairs when she saw me. She nodded and me and I nodded back as she took her outside. I cuffed the unsub and brought him back outside.

I called Prentiss, "Hotch did you find anything." I saw Julia staring at the man in cuffs while y/n was holding her.

______________________________

Y/n POV

We go back to the station in lower DE where Julia's family is already waiting for her.

The unsubs name was Jacob Mann he had a history of domestic abuse, sexual assault, and just recently the kidnaping and murder of 6 girls.

On the Jet I sit down, Morgan and JJ sit next to me, "You good? For your first case you fell through the floor." They crack a chuckle.

"Actually I fell through the stairs but yeah I'm good just a little sore. The EMTs said I had bruising all on my back and ribs."

I glance over a Hotch, he's on the opposite end with Rossi and Emily; he's on his phone scrolling. His hands, the way his hair is back but there's a few strands of hair that fall on his face.

I was staring a little too long and the team noticed when they snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Y/n, are you sure you're okay your spacing out." Reid said with a concerned look. "Yes guys I'm okay I swear." I can feel Hotch staring back at me but I avert his gaze looking out the window.

Glancing to the side to see his eyes are on me then snap to his phone.

"Y/n you gotta wake up we’re here", Emily was calling my name and everyone was waiting for me to wake up.

As I walked off the jet Morgan offered to take me home but he lived too far. Hotch kicked off the SUV he was leaning on and approached me.

"I can drive you, I'm closer and you are definitely not driving home by yourself." I didn't fight it; I said okay.

I fell asleep in his car on the way, "Hey." He had his hand on my arm and tried to shake me awake.

"Mhmm." I felt my side of the car get cold when he opened my door.

When I woke up I had a pounding headache from when my head hit the floor. Breathing was just as painful; every breath was a struggle. It was as if I was hit by a car.

Walking into the Living room to get water and Hotch was in my kitchen with a cup of coffee.

"What are you doing here", he held a cup of water towards me and some ibuprofen. "You told me to stay. I slept on the couch if you were wondering."

Hotch had a tight navy blue t-shirt that hugged everything perfectly, along with a pair of grey sweatpants. It was a great sight to see but one I'd never get used to.

"I tried to wake you up last night but you were so tired; I had to carry you inside." He carried me inside.

Hotch took a step towards me and leaned on the counter. He raised his hand to my cheek and used his thumb to rub circles on my face. "How's the bruising."

He was gazing into my eyes like he'd never seen them before and I couldn't stop looking at his. "Its hard to breath. Hurts to walk a little bit and I can't really lay on my side." His face tenses slightly.

"Where does it hurt." I picked up my hand and was rubbing my bruise. His other hand came up and was tracing patterns on my side, "Right here?" He whispered, I moved my hand to his waist.

"Yeah", my voice was barely audible. We both started to lean in.

His eyes flicking down to my lips and me to his. My breath hitched ready for what was gonna happen.

Our lips were millimeters away from each other when Hotch got a phone call.

We paused, we didn't move back or forward. Without looking away he answered his phone. I could feel his breath on my lips. "Hotchner."

His face was right in front of me. My lips barely grazing over his soft lips.

I wanted so bad to just lean forward more and from the looks of it he wanted to also.

His eyes still locked on mine, hand on my waist and face.

"No she's at her apartment", he stayed looking at me. "Got it we'll be in."

"We have to head to the office", I hummed in agreement. His hand returned to my face.

I subconsciously leaned into his touch. He took that as a sign, as he inched closer.

I took a deep breath and pressed my lips to his. He tugged at my waist pulling me towards him.

His lips moved against mine with ease, he was gentle and passionate.

My hand made its way to his chest resting against his heart. My other hand made its way to the base of his neck deepening the kiss.

Hotch exhaled and pulled away pressing his forehead to mine. "I'm sorry that inappropriate", he said slightly out of breath.

I looked back up at him, my hand never leaving him. "Hotch its okay."

His gaze met mine as he moved his hand to my arm. "Call me Aaron."

I gave him a smile. "Okay", I paused. "Aaron", he smiled taking a step back.

"What was the phone call about." Hotch turned going to the couch for his clothes.

"It was a remainder, Strauss wants the paperwork for the case on her desk by tonight." Hotch was getting the suit he wore yesterday.

"If you wanna shower here that's fine", I said stepping out of the kitchen.

I was walking into my room to change; I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around and Hotch was following me.

I was stifling a laugh, "What do you think you're doing."

"You said I could take a shower here."

"Yeah I did, but you'll have to wait your turn." The corners of his mouth turning upwards.

"And why's that, we'd get to work quicker." Staring at the floor then back up reaching to touch his arm.

"Because Agent Hotchner, I'm not that easy." I said flirtatiously, I turned around and shut my bedroom door.

I heard him laughing then walking back to the kitchen.

________________________________________

"Fuck", I whispered to myself. "What happened?", Morgan asked, turning In his chair.

"Nothing", I sighed looking at my phone. "Now we all know that a lie, what is it hun."

I looked at him and raised my eyebrows at the nickname. "It's honestly really stupid", It caught the attention of Emily and JJ.

"What's going on here", JJ asked Morgan. "Oh nothing just y/n being very secretive."

They all looked at me. "Yes...I'm secretive I just don't think it's everyone's business."

Emily was quick to change the subject when she lowered her voice. "Did anything happen with Hotch."

I was confused at the question and she continued, "Oh come on your really pulling the clueless card."

Reid joined in from where ever. "I noticed too he's wearing the same cloths from yesterday." My attention went to Reid.

"And how do you know that", they couldn't know. Nothing really happened but it made me nervous that they were wondering.

"First his clothes are slightly more wrinkled, second ones obvious he didn't go home last night."

I glanced at Hotchs office. He took a shower at my place he smelled like me. "How do you know that." I asked looking through his window.

Reid then went on to explain how he usually smelled and that how Hayley's not there anymore there's no reason for him to smell like a women.

My voice lowered, "You're reading into thing's too much." My head lowering to like I was trying to sink into the chair.

Morgan took notice, "Didn't Hotch take you home last night."

They all stared at me making me wanna just get up and run. "Yeah he did but he left after I fell asleep, in my defense I did just fall 15ft onto concrete. He wanted to make sure there wasn't a problem."

That response seemed to get me off the pedestal when they returned to work. Hotchs blinds were cracked open and I kept looking in eventually I stopped working completely. I was brought back to reality when I heard my name.

"Y/n?" Hotch was standing outside his door. "Can I see you for a moment." I nodded and started walking eyes following my movements.

Knocking on the door I hear his low voice, "Come in." I walk into his office and take a seat on the chair in front of his desk. He looks up at me from the paperwork on his desk.

"Talk about anything interesting." He stands up and leans against the desk in front of me. I shoot him a confused look. He nods towards the bullpen.

"They were trying to figure out where you were. They realized you didn't go home last night."

I stand up and lean next to him. "I'm assuming you didn't say anything." He asked taking a few steps standing between my legs with a hand on my waist.

"No I'm a very secretive person, not really a big fan of other people in my business."

"Oh is that so", he brings his face closer to mine softly kissing me. I mumble in the kiss,

"Mhmm."

I could feel his lips curling upwards. I peck his lips again and look at him.

"Then next time I'll just bring my own." I raise my eyebrows and cock my head to the side, "Next time?"

Hotch brings his other hand to my waist, "Well yeah, assuming you wanted there to b-." I cut him off with another kiss. "Of course I want there to be a next time", He smirked.

"Good", I had my arms wrapped around his neck as I pulled him in for another kiss. It was slow; feeling every movement we made.

We jumped away from each other sitting back down when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in", The team walked into the room to 'drop off paperwork'. they looked at both of us, studying us.

When they left I looked at the blinds they were cracked open enough to know that me an Hotch weren't sitting down the whole time.

We looked at each other and our eyes went wide. "What do I tell them, I got to go out there eventually." He stood back up going to the door with his hand on the handle.

"Tell them I was showing you pictures of Jack on my phone."

I squinted and lowered my eyebrows. "Who's Jack." Hotch grinned a bit.

"He's uh... my son."

"Oh, can I ask about his mom."

He tensed up, "You don't have to tell me if you're uncomfortable." He nodded his head and decided to drop the subject.

He opened the door for me, "Bye Aaron." I walked past him back into the bullpen.

We watched me walk away; looking me up and down before shutting the door.

Morgan and Emily watching the whole interaction, "y/n I'd say Hotch was checking you out." I tried to look surprised, "Yeah I'm not so sure about that."

He didn't buy it, "No... he definitely was, maybe he has a little crush on you."

I turned away and looked at the computer to hide the blush in my cheeks.

Trying to suppress a smile, "That's ridiculous."

Morgan was chuckling, "Whatever you say mama." He went back to work

_______________________________

@mac99martin @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @appleblossoms-posts

#aaron hotch hotchner #reader x aaron+hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x y/n #hotchner x reader #criminal minds #fanfic

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thedumpsterqueen · 4 years ago

Text

Standards of Performance, Chapter 7: Hangovers and Confrontations

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

AO3 Link

I’ve been crazy busy this week, so this one is a bit short, I’m sorry! Thank you for your kind, complimentary, and h*rny thoughts in my messages this week. They truly keep me going. Big shoutout, also, to the few people that have messaged me angry about how long it’s taking Hotch and reader to get together - you had ample warning I was gonna drag this out ;) Final bit of business: there will be no chapter next Friday. I’m going to take the next two weeks to get ahead on writing so I’m not panicking when the content starts to get longer and more ~intense~. I’m sorry for that :( Thank you so much for your continued support, truly. You’re all amazing. Lastly - shoutout to @honeyshores for your advice on this one <3

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary: You try to determine whether it's the hangover or Hotch causing more of your headache.

Words: 2320

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

Your phone’s ringtone blared into your ear, waking you up from a dreamless sleep. Opening it to check the notification, you groaned at the bright light emitting from the screen. Upon seeing it was a text from Hotch, all traces of unconsciousness dissipated, and you sat up in bed, head pounding.

Ok, so you were really fucking hungover.

After Hotch freaked out on you last night and you ditched Cooper, you’d made it your mission to have fun with the rest of the team, which involved you buying everyone many more drinks. It worked - you didn’t leave until 2 am - but you were about to pay the price, because Hotch apparently wanted everyone at the office in 30 minutes. You checked the time.

7:00 am.

If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he was doing this on purpose.

You showered and threw on a dress, praying the commute to the BAU would give the 3 ibuprofen currently digesting in your otherwise empty stomach time to work.

It didn’t - in fact, it just provided ample time for the nausea to set in. But by the haggard looks everyone else was shooting as they settled into the meeting room, they seemed to be in the same boat.

Garcia, wearing massive sunglasses and laying on the couch in the corner, spoke first. “I threw up in the shower this morning.”

Morgan raised his head out of his crossed arms on the table, probably about to make some quip about Garcia and showers, but seemed to think better of being upright and laid his head back down with a grunt.

“I feel great,” Reid said with a smile, prompting groans out of everyone, including yourself.

“That’s because you had like, 3 drinks.” JJ said. “And 2 of them were beer.”

“It’s also because I drank an appropriate amount of water. Did you know if you consume 8 ounces of water with each alcoholic drink, you can reduce the incidence of hangovers by-”

“Kid,” Rossi interrupted, taking a break from gulping down a massive mug of coffee. “Know your audience.”

“Everyone here?” Hotch asked, walking in and flicking on the lights, which earned him a collective hiss from the rest of the team. His shock at the reaction quickly turned to faint amusement. “More importantly, is everyone capable of working today without throwing up in a trashcan?”

“I’ll do my best, Sir, but I make no promises,” said Garcia, who definitely looked the worst for wear.

“Well, good, because Internal Affairs requested the Use of Deadly Force reviews early this year.”

Another groan from everyone, with the exception of you, who had no idea what reports he was referring to. As if reading your mind, Hotch turned to you and explained, “Use of Deadly Force reviews are required reports we fill out annually in which we analyze and justify every situation where deadly force was used against a subject. I know you weren’t here for most of these, but you can still help type them up, and it’ll be helpful to go over the cases for your learning.”

You nodded, not thrilled to watch the team dredge up the worst moments of the past year, but thrilled that today’s task didn’t require you to move from your chair. Hotch slid a box of files onto the table, reminded you all that he’d be in his office if you needed anything, and took his leave.

“Doesn’t he have to go over these with us, seeing as…” you trailed off, unsure how to speculate that Hotch was probably the one to take the shot in at least half of these cases.

Morgan knew what you were trying to say. “He goes over them before we submit the reports to Internal Affairs.” He grabbed the top file from the box and grimaced. “The Toelle case, man, remember that one?”

Prentiss sighed and rubbed her temples. “Just when I thought I might get through the day without losing my breakfast.”

____________

You pushed your laptop away and slouched back into your chair. “I need a break.”

It was a miracle you’d made it to this point, honestly - your headache was now raging despite pain relievers, and you’d spent half the day meticulously poring over the actions of some of the BAU’s most gruesome killers. (Prentiss was right - the Toelle file had been enough to make everyone, even Reid, turn a little green).

“You doing alright, kiddo?” Rossi asked, peering over the file he was reading.

“Just hungover. Went a little harder than I expected to, ya know?”

“What happened with Hotch last night?” Reid asked.

“Reid!” JJ admonished.

Morgan shrugged. “Hey, we’re all thinking it. We saw him drag you outside, then he stormed back in and left. How’d you manage to piss him off so bad?”

“I’m surprised you noticed anything. You were pretty occupied,” Rossi said, raising his eyebrows towards Garcia, who flushed scarlet.

You laughed and sent a silent thank you to Rossi for taking the heat off of you.

“He just told me the guy I was dancing with was on coke and that I shouldn’t hang out with him.” You shrugged. “It was weird and I kinda freaked out on him at first, but I guess he was right.”

That didn’t get the nonchalant response you expected - everyone looked just as confused as you were when Hotch had initially approached you.

“Wait, hold on,” Prentiss said, sitting forward. “He told you not to dance with that guy because he was on drugs?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “He said after Garcia got attacked by that one man, everyone on the team needs to be more careful about who they associate with. Is that not… the case…?”

You trailed off, because judging by the looks the rest of the team were exchanging, it definitely wasn’t .

JJ shook her head. “Hotch has never really cared what we do in our private lives unless it affects our job.”

“Yeah, like remember that time you dated Will for a year without telling us and we had to pretend we didn’t know?” Prentiss asked, grinning.

“Or that time you hooked up with the mail guy and you made us sign for your packages for the next month?” Morgan ribbed back at Prentiss.

“I was drunk -”

“I think you should talk to Aaron,” Rossi suggested gently over what was quickly becoming a team debate over who had the craziest love life.

Still reeling over the knowledge that Hotch’s erratic behavior towards you wasn’t merely some standard attempt to keep the team safe, you nodded and stood.

It was time for some answers, god damn it.

The righteous indignation that spurred you towards Hotch’s office was quickly being replaced by nervousness as you neared. You considered turning back, but you were sure he heard you stomping down the hall, and you weren’t trying to make a habit of awkwardly hesitating outside like you had at his apartment. Despite his door being ajar, you knocked gently, and he looked up from his standard mound of paperwork and nodded.

“Come in.”

You obliged and sat down across the desk from him, twiddling your fingers. He waited for you to speak, never one to opt out of awkward silence.

“I think we should talk about what happened last night. Sir.”

He cocked his head slightly, setting down his pen and folding his hands in front of him.

“What are you referring to?”

You hated how he did this - it was an interrogation tactic, you knew that. He’d make the subject describe a situation with which both parties were clearly familiar to get their interpretation of events, which was usually very telling. And, more importantly, it made them uncomfortable.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m referring to you pulling me away from the group and telling me not to dance with that guy at the club.”

Hotch sighed and picked his pen back up, scanning his paperwork, making it very clear he felt this conversation wasn’t worth his time. “I explained my reasoning last night. If you take issue with the standards I expect of my team outside of the office-”

“But you don’t,” you blurted out, cutting him off.

“Don’t what?” he asked, now looking at you.

“Don’t expect that of your team,” you explained. “I talked to them about it just now. They said you’ve never acted that way before.”

“Their interpretation of events may be different-”

“It’s not their interpretation,” you interrupted for the second time. “They told me about all their dating escapades and you’ve never made it your business, not once. Why am I different to you?”

You hadn’t intended that last part to come out the way it did, and you cringed at the vulnerability in your tone. He was silent for one, two seconds, and you knew then he was making a decision, that the answer to your question wasn’t the simple truth he’d projected it to be.

“You’re the youngest member of the team, and the least experienced. I feel a responsibility to make sure you don’t make any decisions that you may regret. I’m sorry if you felt I was out of line.”

The detachment in his tone felt like a punch to the gut. Some part of you had been secretly wishing, you supposed, that his actions betrayed something deeper - that you were different to him, and not just because you were young and naive. And when the team had reacted the way they did, you’d gotten your hopes up that it had meant something. Just like him telling you about his past. Just like him killing Matthews. Just like… it didn’t matter . Even if he had been lying just now, it wouldn’t have changed anything. He wasn’t letting you in because he didn’t want to. You’d overestimated your significance in his life, but in reality, you were probably no more than a blip on his radar. Hotch was the sun, the central point to which everyone around him was drawn, and you were a lonely, distant planet that had somehow convinced yourself you were close enough to have gotten burned.

Choking back undeserved tears, you left his office, fighting the bile that was finally rising from your stomach, realizing that this was about to be the second time in as many days that your feelings for him had made you puke.

____________

When Matthews lunged at you, he hadn’t spared a thought, not a moment for consideration before breaking his neck. He knew, even as he felt the vertebra detach from its seat in the base of the skull, that there had been other paths - not that killing him was unrequited, of course, but it was a last-resort type of action, and Hotch had never been a last-resort type of man. Morgan hadn’t questioned it, not beyond a hushed, “You good?” after the whole thing went down, but he could sense his shock at the fact that Hotch was the one to go straight for lethality.

And your reaction - that was what kept him awake at night. Not killing the suspect; it was a sick truth, but he’d killed far too many people by now to have that same nauseous, horrified reaction he did the first few times. No, it was the way you looked at him afterwards. He’d expected shock, panic - hell, even complete disgust - but you’d looked at him like he was your hero. Like he was good, somehow. And he’d wanted to correct every day since, say, “No, you’ve got me wrong, I’m not what you think I am,” but he hadn’t mustered up the courage. He’d grown to need that look, if he was being honest with himself; needed someone to gaze upon him with the admiration and respect and doe-eyed awe that you did, because sometimes it was the only thing that kept him from going home alone to his apartment and shattering every mirror in the fucking place so he didn’t have to look at his reflection.

So when you’d asked him - all flushed face and halting words and twisting fingers - why he’d acted the way he did, he couldn’t be truthful with you. He’d answered with what should’ve been the truth, because he couldn’t tell you that he’d wanted to kick that boy’s teeth in from the minute he saw him touch you for daring to defile something so innocent and pure and good, even if you’d wanted it. Especially if you’d wanted it, if he was being honest with himself.

This was all twisted, of course. There were a million ways to profile a man in his 50’s who thought the way he did about someone your age (not to mention his employee, for fuck’s sake), none of them good. He’d deserved the raised eyebrow Rossi gave him before he stalked off to drag you from the dancefloor, and he’d more than deserved the constant, chiding internal voice scolding him whenever he paid too much attention to you, asked you an easy question just so he could see you light up at knowing the answer, divulged information he hadn’t talked about with anyone in years.

He saw how much his words affected you. You’d tried to hide it, but you were so endearingly bad at masking your feelings, and even though his stomach twisted to see you crushed, he felt a twinge of hope knowing you’d wanted a different answer. He could’ve given you one that would have made you happier:

“You’re important to me.”

“I was worried about you.”

Even, “I wanted to spend time with you last night, instead.”

But those were all too adjacent to a truth that he starkly refused to consider.

So he let you down, because letting people down was something with which Aaron Hotchner had plenty of goddamn practice.

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cherrypieships · 3 years ago

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the amusement park: chapter one

A/N: Hi all! This is my first fic posted here on my self ship blog! I’m really proud of this story, it’s gonna be a two-parter.

Ship: davey jacobs x pepper simmons (s/i), featuring my best friend V and my gf Khourey and their respective f/os, race higgins and jack kelly!

Summary: Some of the newsies head to Canobie lake's haunted house/amusement park. Pepper and Davey are the only non-couple.

The backseat of Race’s mom’s minivan was one of the last places Pepper wanted to be at 7 o’clock on a Friday morning. Yet here she was, awaiting their arrival to Canobie Lake Park’s annual Screemfest as she got crammed in next to Davey Jacobs.

Not that she disliked Davey. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Pepper liked Davey a whole lot. And that was exactly the problem. Here she was, in such close proximity to him that their knees knocked together every time Violet hit a pothole, harbouring a gigantic crush on her best friend. And everyone in the car knew beside him. And they were totally fifth- and sixth-wheeling on this trip.

It was fine.

Besides, Pepper was willing to endure a few hours pining quietly if it meant she could go on some sick roller coasters. So she sucked it up and tucked quietly into her seat.

Mickey turned around from the middle row and handed Pepper a piece of her chocolate croissant. “You cold back there?” She asked, wild red curls framing her face as she spoke.

After popping the pastry into her mouth, Pepper shrugged. “I’m fucking always cold.”

Jack tugged his hat up from where it rested over his eyes. “That is a fair point, she is always cold.” He said pointedly, and yelped when Pepper flicked the back of his head.

“I have poor circulation, dickhead.” She whined.

Race snickered from the passenger seat. “Good thing my dickhead doesn’t have poor circulation.” He quipped.

Though Pepper couldn’t see it, she could feel Violet rolling their eyes at their boyfriend. “I’m gonna file for divorce, Race.” They picked up their coffee and took a brief sip. “And I’m taking the kids.”

Beside her, Davey was digging around in the duffel bag he’d brought for the ride. He’d described it to Pepper as a ‘Minor Catastrophe Bag’, with a tiny first aid kit, nail clippers, some snacks, ibuprofen, pads, and a pair of tweezers. As much as she would have loved to gently bully him for being such a mother hen, she knew she’d be thanking him later through an inevitable headache. He straightened, finally, and emerged with a sweater. “Um, if you’re really cold,” He held it out to her. “You can wear this. It’s my backup but I’m pretty warm.” He said.

Pepper took the sweater in both hands with a gentle smile, trying to ignore the soft brush of his fingertips against hers. “You sure?” As much as she would love to immediately engulf herself in his clothes, it was Mid-October and she didn’t want to steal Davey’s source of warmth from him.

Like usual, he waved off her gentle concern. “I have my jacket and I’m wearing layers.” He explained, pushing the sweater towards her.

She took it in her hands, hoping and praying that the heat in her face wasn’t visible. “If you insist.” The teasing was playful, as it always had been. Their friendship had existed for years, the product of a few friend groups merging and discovering that they fit like puzzle pieces. Davey always gave up his cherry Starbursts to Pepper because they were her favorite. Pepper let Davey borrow her favorite poetry books. They spent summers at the pool together. Had napped, cried, laughed, celebrated together for what seemed like forever.

So why did wearing his clothes make her so much more flustered than anything before?

She slid the sweater on, enveloping herself in his scent- oh Christ she was dying- and did actually feel much better. Even though the dark blue didn’t exactly match her outfit.

Davey smiled at her. “When will you learn to dress for the weather?” He admonished gently.

“That’s why I keep you around.” Pepper said, rather than admitting that she was just forgetful and liked her outfit too much.

“Davey’s new occupation: Pepper’s coat rack.” Violet chimed in, handing their phone to Race to switch the song that was playing.

Davey sighed. “I’m really putting that college education to good use.”

The rest of the car ride went by relatively quickly, much to Pepper’s delight. They hopped out into the cool autumn air, cracked their cramped joints, and headed into the park. Davey thankfully left most of his supplies in the trunk of the minivan (save for the ibuprofen he’d managed to sneak into Pepper’s purse just in case), so they’d made it through security and into the place without much fuss as well.

Jack, ever the natural born leader of the bunch, snagged a map and immediately started planning their route for the day. He unfurled it in front of the group and, as Mickey curled into his side, eyed the pathways and rollercoasters thoughtfully. “So do you guys wanna start at the front and work our way back? Or the other way around?”

There was a beat of silence as everyone worked the thought over. “We should just head towards the back, I think everyone’s gotta start testing the rides first anyway.” Mickey piped up first.

Davey nodded. “Gives us more time.” He added.

They made the trek towards the back of the park, Mickey and Jack leading with the map.

Race sidled up beside Pepper and hip-checked her. “You been to these haunted houses before?” He asked, making reference to the night-time festivities. Once the sun set, the park released creepily-costumed actors to scare those who stayed, and previously blocked-off areas were transformed into small haunted houses. Truthfully, Pepper had never been to any haunted house, let alone ones set up at an amusement park.

So, she shook her head. “It’s my first haunted house, actually.” Something she’d confided in Mickey and Vi about.

Race feigned a gasp. “Well ain’t this a hell of a place to start!” He elbowed her, and she returned the gesture, their own weird little handshake.

“Are you serious?” Davey asked, his own elbow catching her shoulder, fucking ow, he’s bony.

Pepper nodded. “I was too scared when I was a kid, and then when I stopped being a baby, all that stuff with my mom happened, so I just never went.”

Davey hummed in acknowledgement, evidently eager to skip past the whole ‘my-mom-is-ill’ conversation. “Ah, well. If you need a buddy, I’m sure we’ll be left alone. Together.” He said, his head tilting to their friends, who had once again broken off into couples, leaving them to their own devices.

Shoving the impending smile down, she nodded. “I’m sure we will.”

“Well, we have a good, um,” He checked the watch on his wrist (the one with the brown leather strap that he wore with every outfit, even if Pepper told him it didn’t match, or that it was too clunky.) “Like, ten hours before we need to even think about that.”

She crumpled into a fit of giggles. “Perfect. I’m sure we’ll spend that time wisely.” She swatted his arm as he shoved his watch in front of her face.

---

They did not.

Six and a half hours later, the group stood in line at one of the concession stands, staring at the menu and nodding to the song playing in the background; some mid-2010s Kesha track that was making Vi go absolutely crazy.

Jack squinted at the chalkboard. “They don’t even have chicken tenders here?” He nudged Race. “They don’t even have chicken tenders here.”

Race nodded slowly, also squinting. Pepper wondered, briefly, if the pair needed glasses or if they were just trying to look contemplative. “Mickey’s gonna call it homophobic, you know.” He said.

“It is!” Mickey called dutifully from the table they had snagged for the gang to inevitably sit at. “I’ll take some cheese fries though!” To which Jack nodded and stepped up to the worker behind the plexiglass, beginning to list off the group’s orders.

Vi’s voice floated through Pepper’s ears. “Oh what a shame that you came here with someone,” they approached her, eyes closed and hands up by their shoulders as they got all the way into their performance. “My god, if they have candy apples at a stall somewhere, I’m gonna go buckwild.” They said suddenly, snapping out of their trance to stare at Pepper expectantly.

Before she could say anything, though, Davey stole the words from her mouth. “You are allergic to apples, V.” He chided, maybe more kindly than Pepper would have put it, but she was willing to overlook it for the sake of the way a small smile pulled at his mouth.

Violet dropped their hands. “Only a little bit.” They argued.

“A little bit allergic.” Davey repeated, and Pepper pressed her lips together firmly to fight off the grin at the exasperation in his voice.

“To apples, yes.” They nodded, and, evidently done with arguing, turned to keep Mickey company at the table.

Davey turned to Pepper, disbelief crossing his features. “Can you believe-”

“Yes.” She cut him off. “Yes I absolutely can believe it.” Pepper said, digging through her memory of the times V had pulled some similar shit; eating eleven mozzarella sticks despite their lactose intolerance, buying a Panic! At The Disco vinyl despite wanting Brendon Urie dead, and spending $40 on a Funko Pop figure of Spiderman Noir for no real reason other than some guy at a convention told them to.

Jack turned to his friends. “Okay I did the ordering, someone else has to do the collecting.” He announced, shoving the receipt with the order number on it towards Davey, who had inadvertently become Second In Command. Then, with a signature Jack Kelly Smug Smile, he stalked off to where V and Mickey were seated, Race following behind.

Great, Pepper thought, another conveniently timed moment alone with Davey. Briefly, she wondered if her friends had planned this ahead of time, and then she came to her senses and realized that yes, of course they had. Those conniving little weasels had been conspiring to get Davey to like her since senior prom.

She still remembered the way Mickey had shoved Davey at her when a slow song came on that night. Work Song by Hozier had drifted over the speakers, and V’s elbow caught her in the ribs as they growled a furious “Dance with him or I’ll fucking kill you.” and skipped off to sway with Racer. Pepper had stood on the dance floor, gaping as she watched Jack wink at Vi. Those two never got along about anything.

Davey’s hand had entered her field of vision, skin almost glowing under the light of the mirrorball. He’d smiled sheepishly, admitted that this was one of his favorite songs, and asked if she’d like to share a dance.

The strange thing was, she didn’t actually like Davey before that. At least she thought she didn’t. It wasn’t until she was cradled close to his chest, breathing in the smell of his soap and some soft, powdery cologne he frequented, that she found her heart pounding and her palms going clammy. And when he’d started humming against her hair, one hand in hers and the other around her waist, she knew she was absolutely fucked.

She’d started thinking about it and, yeah, it made sense to want to be with Davey. Handsome Davey, who sometimes made her laugh until soda came out her nose, and whose affinity for children’s cartoons made him the ideal conversation partner. Three years later, she was still in love with him.

And it was all her stupid, evil friends’ faults.

Back in the present, Davey tucked his hands in his pockets, his lips twisting as he lost himself in thought. “We’re gonna have so much shit to carry.” He murmured, exasperated at being the ones left behind.

“We sure are. At least you and Jack ordered drinks, so that’s more stuff to spill.” She twisted a long strand of hair around her finger.

Davey scoffed good-naturedly. “Yeah well you made me leave my water bottle in the car so I needed to be hydrated somehow.”

Pepper kicked at his shin with the toe of her sneaker. “And a caramel hot chocolate is the best way to stay hydrated?” She grinned up at him, watching him tuck the receipt into his back pocket and start moving for the pick-up window as the drink in question was called out.

He hummed in assent. “You bet it is.” He picked up the paper cup, taking a short sip and licking at his bottom lip. Pepper ignored the urge to run her thumb across it.

She must have been staring, because after a second, Davey held the cup out towards her. He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. She loved chocolate and caramel, and always ran cold. He knew there was no way she’d have turned down a sip if he’d offered, so he must have decided to save his breath. She took the cup in her hands, the warmth emanating from it seeping pleasingly into her palms, and took a sip as well, subconsciously hoping to taste more than the drink. She licked her lips.

Davey watched her intently. He opened his mouth, ready to say something to her, when the order bell rang out. “Order sixty-nine!” The college girl behind the counter announced.

“Oh, fuck yes.” Race cackled from the table. V leaned into him, trying to hide their own laughter as Mickey gave him a high-five.

Pepper sighed, she should’ve known that would be their luck. The pair of them moved forward, Davey pushing in front of her to grab the tray before she could even reach for it. “I got it.” He mumbled, holding onto the plastic tray like a nervous Disney-Channel-Original-Movie teenager. “Grab the drinks, don’t worry about it.” And then he smiled up at her, a closed-lipped little smile that made her heart race as she picked up Jack’s orange soda.

Behind her, someone clicked their tongue. Pepper turned, making immediate eye contact with an older lady with greying black hair and soft folds in her skin, who gave her a knowing smile. “And they say chivalry is dead. You got yourself a sweet one, honey.” She said, then winked.

Pepper’s jaw went slack trying to think of a response. She turned back to Davey, whose eyebrows were so far up his face that they were basically in his hairline. “Oh God,” he said simply, “Um, thank you, ma’am.”

The woman laughed softly, leaned over and patted Pepper’s shoulder as if she knew something Pepper didn’t, and then disappeared into the line to order food.

There was a long, silent moment, where Pepper was racking her brain, searching every corner for something to say that would shift the air, move the mood from awkward to playful with a joke of some sort. She looked at him again, and he was staring at her, unblinking. There was a funny look on his face- regret maybe- his eyebrows low and his eyes a little soft. She wondered, distantly, if he was realizing that she was in love with him; if it was a look of pity-

“Hurry up with my goddamn cheese fries!” Mickey yelled, their hunger obviously taking control over their inhibition.

Without a second thought, Pepper turned on her heel and walked to where their friends were, leaving Davey and the unnerving encounter behind.

#pls drop a like/rb if you read! i'm really proud of this one!#davey #olive talks #my fic #the amusement park

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muilkyu · 4 years ago

Text

Treasure vs A Bad Day

🐷 Hyunsuk

"Hello?"

A chuckle comes out of the phone, "Did you just wake up?"

You yawn into the phone prompting another chuckle to come from Hyunsuk, "Yeah. I was tired after class so I came home and went right to sleep."

"How was class?"

"So boring. I forgot my laptop so I had to take paper notes. I even had to tap the guy in front of me to ask. It was embarrassing," you groan.

"Sounds so dreadful," he replies, voice coming out with a hint of teasing.

"It was," you say, shifting you look around the room to look at the clock on the wall, "When are you coming back?"

"That's why I called. Do you want to go get food?"

"What are we going to get?" You question.

"You can pick might cheer you up," he replies. That night you settle for pasta which you'll both admit was overpriced, but it made you happy.

🐼 Jihoon

"Frowning causes wrinkles," Jihoon says walking into my bedroom.

"Does it look like I care," you respond, shrinking further into your blanket.

He signs making his way to the windows opening the curtains letting in the sunlight, "Get up right now."

"No, leave me alone."

"You know I can't do that," he replies sitting down on the side of my bed, "What happened?"

"Nothing happened. Just everything today is irritating."

He nods, "Okay, I understand that, but that doesn't mean you can't make today a good day. Let's go on a walk."

"That's the last thing I want to do right now."

"Come on trust me."

You look up at him. You can see that he is trying so you groan sitting up, "Fine now get out I need to change."

🐯 Yoshi

"Hey come to the kitchen!" Yoshi shouts.

"Okay," you yell back. Shuffling over to the kitchen you are met with a smiling Yoshi holding a plate of cookies.

"Did you make these?"

"I attempted to yes. Here, try one. I hope they taste good."

Reaching for a cookie you look over the plate. They look like regular chocolate chip cookies with caramel drizzled on top. The color is golden brown so he cooked them at the right temperature. Grabbing a cookie you take a bite.

"Is it good?"

"They are delicious," you reply, taking another bite it melts in your mouth right away.

His eyes widened like he's shocked to hear the answer, "Really?"

"Yeah. What did you make cookies though I have some in the pantry?"

He sets down the plate wiping his hands on your apron he has on, "You looked a little bit down today so I thought I would cheer you up."

"That's so sweet. Thank you." You reply before giving him a hug. Honestly, you had no idea Yoshi was paying so much attention to you. This sudden gift makes you love him a bit more.

🐨 Junkyu

"It's okay you're okay," Junkyu comforts rubbing small circles into your back.

"I messed everything up. I won't graduate, then I'll have to go back home and I already have a life here."

"No, you can just take a summer course."

"Then I'll miss out on our summer," you say pushing your head farther into your knees, "I don't want you stuck at the library with me."

Sighing he runs his fingers through his head, "It won't matter as long as you get to stay here. We can study at some pretty cafes around Seoul and outside as well. The summer won't be a bummer as long as your here."

Slowly you lift your head out of your knees facing him, pout still hanging strong on your lips, "Are you sure? What are you gonna do while I'm studying?"

He thinks for a second the thought never came across his mind before he proposed the idea, "I don't know but there is no way I'm letting you go back home. You are here to stay."

🐹 Mashiho

"On a scale from 1 to 10, how sad are you?"

"Ten," you reply.

"That bad?" He questions.

"Yeah, migraine, and I have math homework."

"I can't help you with your math homework, but I can get you some ibuprofen."

Nodding in agreement you smile sadly, "That would be great."

Mashiho is already making his way to the door, "I'll be right back then. You're getting cuddles when I get back!" He adds on at the end before he's out the door.

🦁 Jaehyuk

"Come on one smile."

"I'm smiling see," you reply, smiling but it doesn't reach the eyes.

"That is a fake smile. I want a real smile," he says.

"Jae I'm not in the mood," you reply.

"Why not," he questions.

You look down at the table, "I just don't feel happy today."

"Ahh okay well is there a reason?"

You shake your head, "Not really I just woke up and it felt like it was a bad day."

He reaches for your hand holding it, "Why did you tell me?"

"You were so happy this morning I didn't want to ruin your day."

"No matter what I'm feeling you should be able to tell me how you are feeling," he tells you, he starts playing with one of the rings on your finger, "I'm your boyfriend. I want you to talk to me."

You nod knowing he is right, "Yeah, I'm sorry. I guess I just didn't know how to tell you."

Smiling he says, "You can always tell me."

Giving him a little smile back you reply, "I will."

🤖 Asahi

Mindlessly you click through the TV channels. Nothing good is on or well at least anything you currently want to watch. Groaning, you toss the remote down and reach your phone. There are a bunch of missed calls and messages from your friends. The thought of responding to them runs through your mind, but instead, you just swipe away the notifications.

One of them catches your eye though actually, two new messages do. Both are from your boyfriend so you skin over them.

Asahi

I'm coming over with food.

I'll be there in 10 minutes.

The messages were sent 10 minutes ago which means he'll be here any second. Just as you get up to look out the window to see if he's outside the bell to the door is already buzzing. Asahi doesn't even say hello as he walks in just walking to the table and setting down the food.

"Are you hungry?" He questions already opening up what looks like Bibimbap.

"Not feeling that hungry right now actually," you reply taking a seat across from him.

He stops adding the bean sprouts to his bowl, "If you're feeling down you should eat still."

"How did you know I wasn't in a good mood," you ask, surprised he was able to randomly guess how you were feeling.

He mixes up his bowl and without looking up replies, "I had a feeling so I brought you some comfort food and now I'm here to listen," he grabs a bit of food onto his spoon leaning over to bring it to you, "Now eat and tell me everything you have on your mind."

🦊 Yedam

Notes have to be the most boring thing in the world. You write them for hours only to study them and then take the quiz and nothing you wrote to be on the quiz. It's boring yet primitive to get through school.

Currently, you're at cram school, it's already 7 pm. Which isn't that late, but now you have a hand cramp from writing all day. Yedam wasn't able to join you today so here you sit face timing him instead.

"Korea is trying to kill me," you complain, placing your pencil down. You rub your eyes to stop from feeling sleepy.

"You only have 2 more pages to study," he says back.

"2 pages too many," you reply glaring at the textbook. The font is the size of an ant and it's history. Not even Korean history, world history about America, nothing fun at all.

"If you're like this I wonder how you studied back home."

"Back home I studied, but I only studied a few hours. Most of the time we had study guides so we knew what was on the test."

"Just think of this as a longer one than. It's just a self-written one with probably way more words."

You pout at the screen, "It still sucks. How am I supposed to remember all of this?"

"I'll help you study."

"No, you already have so much going on," you refuse.

"We can study together. It might actually help us. You can tutor me and vice versa," he suggests.

"Are you sure?"

"Why not. What could go so wrong?"

🐰 Doyoung

"Hot chocolate, coffee, or water?"

"What about a Vanilla Bean Frappe made with almond milk and a little caramel drizzle."

"I don't believe this is a Starbucks," he laughs.

"Then what is the point? It's either that or I'm going back to bed."

"Okay so you've decided to be grumpy today," he responds walking back into the living room.

"I've been grumpy all day. Which you would know if you weren't late today."

"Oh, so this is why you're mad," he replies, eyebrows raised.

"Not mad, 'grumpy'. I'm also extremely tired from staying up waiting for you," you say with a yawn following.

"Do you just want to go lay down?" He suggests.

You nod, "I want to take a nap while listening to sad music."

"Okay," he replies walking over to the couch to sit. He taps his lap, "Lay down here."

So you lay your hard down on his lap, "Where is my music?"

"Right away your majesty," he teases, pulling out his phone.

"Majesty?" You question, then you smirk, "I could get used to that."

🐏 Haruto

"I'm here."

You sit up wiping the tears from your face. You call back to the voice, "Bedroom."

A few shuffles are heard before your door opens. A concerned Haruto appears walking over to you, "Awee babe," He says so more tears come down your face. Arms wrap around you pulling you into a hug, "Are you okay?"

Shaking your head you place your head in his neck. Giving him a small reply of 'no' which has him holding you tighter.

"I'm here okay?" He comforts. Weakly you nod your head back.

"I'm getting you all wet."

"It's fine," he laughs lightly, "I wonder how bad today was for you to be this shaken up."

Burying your head deeper into his neck you sigh, "It was terrible."

"I bet. Look, we don't have to talk about it until you're ready."

"Okay."

🐺 Jeongwoo

"Why is she so annoying?" You groan.

"I don't even know who you are talking about."

"I told you that one girl at lunch, she keeps rolling her eyes at me. I haven't even talked to her before. I don't even know her name," you continue on.

"Okay slow down. When did she start this?"

You shrug, "It was so random. I was walking in line with some friends getting food and we made eye contact. Jeongwoo I've never seen this girl before yet she's so rude to me."

"Why does it matter then?"

"What do you mean?"

He sighs, "Well it's like you said, you don't know her. People are mean for no reason sometimes. Don't let it get to you."

You think it through knowing that he is right, "Still makes me mad."

"How about we go get some ice cream so you cool off?" He suggests.

"From the convenience store or Baskin Robbins?"

"Which one do you want?"

"Baskin Robbins. I'll pay, let's go!"

🐮 Junghwan

"I don't want to go."

Junghwan pouts, confused at the sudden change in your mood, "Why not? You've been wanting to go for weeks."

"I know just now I'm not interested anymore," you respond, crossing your arms.

Junghwan stops walking to pull you aside. He looks you up and down before asking, "You've been waiting for this shop to open up for months and now you don't wanna go. So can you tell me what's wrong?"

"It's nothing serious," you reply, uncrossing your arms. It doesn't seem to convince him because his eyebrows are still raised, "Fine there is a reason, but I don't wanna tell you."

"Why not?"

You shrug, "I don't wanna talk about it right now. We are in the middle of the street Junghwan."

"We are in a park," he points out, so you send him a small glare. He seems to get the message, "But I understand. Look we will do whatever you want today."

"Really?"

"Yeah, anything to make you happy again."

Officially back! Requests are opened again for everything but fics!

Anon request.

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