#and then they separated them into different corners and never let them interact positively again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

belltrigger · 1 year

Text

Prophecy

Title: Prophecy Word count: 2,004 Synopsis: Emmet has been acting anxious, and Ingo can't figure out why. Dynamic: NoboKuda

Ingo prided himself on the fact that he could almost always tell what Emmet was feeling. Since they had lived the entirety of their existence together, every single tell that Emmet displayed was as obvious to Ingo as if it were his own. When Emmet was sad, the strain around his eyes drew attention away from his greatly diminished smile. When he was excited, he had trouble not clenching his hands into fists of eagerness. All of the various expressions of Emmet's emotions were so endearing that Ingo simply needed to catalogue them all for his own memories.

However, recently Emmet had been acting in a way that Ingo found incredibly unfamiliar.

Emmet had always been focused on safety. Following the rules to maintain a safe environment that still allowed everyone to smile and have fun was Emmet's ideal. The safety in their subway was the best for any public transit in Unova, possibly extending to the whole world, and it was all thanks to his younger twin's knowledge and efforts. Although Ingo was well versed in safety rules, as should be expected of anyone in his position, to Emmet it was a passion. Safety was a preventative protection, a method to keep the employees and passengers in good health. It was not something Emmet used because he was afraid of something.

But all the signs pointed exactly to that. Emmet had never before watched over his shoulder or hesitated around corners. He'd never before insisted Ingo have an agent escort to his train; when going on routine checks or maintenance runs, it was common, but to meet a challenger?

Sometimes, it was helpful to consider all the possibilities before approaching the issue. But that wasn't the case for interacting with his brother. After all, if he let himself get stuck in his thoughts, Emmet would be several steps ahead of him before he reacted. It was a wonderful and perfect balancing system they had always followed. Emmet stepped forward, allowing them progress, and he delayed just enough to catch the troubles ahead, stopping his brother at the exact right moment. That was not to say that Emmet did not think things through. But, he did not dally in his own head the way Ingo did, content with the information he gathered without turning it this way and that in his thoughts.

So, for Emmet to operate in such a way, he must have come to a conclusion. And Ingo had allowed it to continue, trying over and over again to determine just what Emmet was reacting to. For several days it puzzled him, and he was no closer to understanding what had caused his brother to suddenly become so incredibly cautious, especially regarding Ingo's safety.

When he finally accepted he couldn't intuit what Emmet was thinking, he decided it was time to ask. If Emmet was that worried for his safety, then it was reasonable for Ingo to know what the danger was. Nothing had seemed different in the subway, so he needed his twin's insight. Coming to this conclusion, he stood up from his desk with determination, firming his expression. Hopefully, Emmet would easily explain what the trouble was, but Ingo was also well versed in getting his twin to fess up when he refused to tell.

Striding out of the office, he adopted the stance he always took when he wanted to exude the most professional aura he could. Hands in fists with knuckles to his back, he walked calmly but with purpose. The various passengers he walked past continued about their business, and the few agents he saw merely tipped their caps or waved in greeting.

He found Emmet near his train, directing Thutmose with special attention to one of their tablets. Emmet was a wonderful Subway Master, competent and capable enough to run all of Gear Station himself, and Ingo relished every chance he got to see Emmet at work separate from him. The way Emmet held himself, confident and sure, made Ingo's heart flutter fondly without exception. A fondness that perhaps was improper to hold for his twin, but it harmed no one if he harbored a bit of a crush. Heart warm with the sight of his younger brother, Ingo lost much of his strong aura, feeling light.

That is, until he noticed Emmet's aghast expression at his arrival. Strain evident in his face, Emmet's eyes widened in a way Ingo could only describe as horror. His twin's entire body stiffened, halted in the middle of a sentence to Thutmose.

Emmet had never looked like *that* at his presence, throughout their entire lives. Even Thutmose seemed surprised at Emmet's sudden change. He felt his heart tighten at the unexpected reaction, worried that this was perhaps a more severe situation than he'd realized. Still, he closed the distance between himself and his twin, aided by Emmet's significantly more hurried stride to meet him.

"Ingo! Did you come here alone?" Emmet gripped both of his upper arms. Past Emmet, Thutmose lingered awkwardly for a moment, tablet held in both hands to his chest, before he quietly went about whatever task Emmet had been assigning to him. Returning his full attention to his anxious twin, Ingo tilted his head to the side.

"Of course. I know you've been worried about safety lately, but there was nothing to derail me. The walk here from our office is a short one." Emmet's mouth flattened as much as it was able, which stood out deeply. To see his brother frowning this much escalated this trouble from severe to critical. "Emmet?"

"Nii-san! You were supposed to stay with someone at all times." It was almost pleading, Emmet's eyebrows knitted tightly together. This close, Ingo could see his little brother's lip quivering just the faintest bit.

That was more than he could stand, so Ingo gently removed his brother's hands from his upper arms and took one of Emmet's hands gently into his own. "Come on. You can walk me back to the office, and we can talk there. Okay?" Emmet swallowed hard, using his now freed hand to tug his hat's brim down a little as he nodded.

Thankfully, no one intercepted them as they returned to their office. Shutting and locking the door behind them, it did not escape Ingo's notice that Emmet had not released his hand. "Now then," he started. "It seems I did not realize how much I had been troubling you. Could you explain what is wrong? I don't wish to upset you further."

Emmet rubbed at his eyes with his free hand, the white glove causing more irritation around his eyes than his bare hand would have. Except, Ingo knew it was not irritation from the rubbing, but the reddening strain of tears refusing to fall.

"I'm scared."

"Scared?" he echoed, squeezing Emmet's hand, trying to ground and comfort him in equal measure. Although he had reasoned that was the case, Emmet's confirmation still didn't sit well with him. What could possibly scare his twin in their beloved subway? Everything was as it should always be - there was no maintenance needed nor underway, the pokémon nest in one of the lower trafficked tunnels was being taken care of, and they'd quite handily provided their budget presentation to the Mayor and his public transit board.

But there was no doubting that Emmet was indeed scared. He'd not seen his brother this way since they were children. Emmet had never been the easily scared type, and the few times his precious twin was scared enough to cry had firmed Ingo's resolve to protect him. (Of course, he'd cried a few times himself, and Emmet had sworn to always protect him too. It was only fair, his twin had said.)

Emmet squeezed his hand back, and took a moment to compose himself from the brief surge of emotion that had overtaken him. After taking a calming breath, he tipped his hat brim back up. "I am Emmet. I have been having dreams. Ones where Ingo disappears."

Although Emmet said they were just dreams, the very idea made him feel as though his insides had liquefied and poured to his feet. What would cause him to disappear? What would happen to Emmet if he did? Surely it would not be a voluntary disappearance! And if the dreams were distressing Emmet as much as they were, then what harm would come to Emmet in order to disappear him?

Ah, but they were simply dreams.

"Emmet, you need not worry about me disappearing. I would never leave you alone! After all, we are a two-car train, are we not?" He took Emmet's other hand, their arms stretched out between the two of them to mimic the couplers holding train cars together. Emmet laced their fingers together, staring hard at their hands. "Are your dreams the same, always? When I'm alone, I disappear?"

Nodding, his younger brother finally brought his gaze up. "Ingo disappears in Gear Station. But no one ever knows how. Only that Ingo was alone." Emmet said it with such conviction, as if he'd lived the circumstances in his dreams over and over again. As if it had become real to him. The corners of his mouth dipped more as he spoke, a look that Ingo hated to see on his precious younger brother. Emmet was brightness and cheer and the warmth in Ingo's life. What could he do to convince Emmet that they were merely dreams, and would not tear them apart?

"Perhaps I can provide proof that our life is not like your dreams." When Emmet tilted his head in confusion, lips opening part way to question Ingo's statement, Ingo used that opportunity to duck his head in to kiss him. Emmet's dreams revolved around Ingo disappearing, and his little brother's responses had been to ensure Ingo was always with someone. But that "someone" varied, never just Emmet, so surely Ingo had not admitted his feelings in these dreams. It was the perfect proof, and allowed the feeling in Ingo's heart to finally be revealed to his twin.

Emmet froze in surprise, not revulsion, and Ingo wondered if Emmet had ever kissed anyone else. When Emmet relaxed and shut his eyes, leaning into the kiss as well, Ingo decided it didn't matter. What was important was that Emmet returned the kiss, and all of his tension had dissipated. Breaking the kiss, Ingo urged to put their foreheads together, but removing their hats to do so would mean he had to release Emmet's hands.

"Ingo..." Emmet said, voice full of quiet awe.

"I trust I never did that in your dreams?" Emmet shook his head, bashful smile replacing his worried frown from earlier. The pink of his cheeks looked infinitely better than the reddened eyes. But, he loved all parts of his little brother, so all of it was still lovely in its own right.

"No," Emmet agreed, squeezing Ingo's hands again. "Ingo did not kiss me in my dreams," he continued, biting into his lower lip.

"Should I do it again, just so you are sure?" Emmet's bashful smile became a bit more eager, a bit less hesitant. "Then I shall continue for as long as necessary, until you are confident." And he kissed Emmet until that smile was no longer burdened with sadness.

In the end, it was uncertain why Emmet even started having the repeating dreams about Ingo's disappearance. After a while, the dreams stopped, but to assure his twin, Ingo continued to avoid extended periods of being alone where he did not check in with someone. More often than not, the check-ins involved calling Emmet on his live caster, using the excuse that he wanted to see his little brother's cute face and tell him how much he loved him. Emmet appreciated it even after the dreams no longer haunted him, repeating the declarations of love.

Ingo did still wonder, though, why hearing about the dreams had caused such a fear response in his own heart.

#Bell fic #Blankshipping #submas #Ingo #Emmet #NoboKuda #Ingo/Emmet #I'm trying to format my fic posts for better visibility :)#LIke I added a synopsis and a dynamic as well as a little bit of the fic *before* the read more.#The dynamic doesn't necessarily mean there is any kind of overt content but more like my intent behind it.#I hope that makes sense #Please let me know if this is better or worse ehehe

25 notes · View notes

jothriku · 4 years

Text

team dark was like ‘we’re the best sonic team :)’ and then sega was like ‘not on my watch, you goth bitches’

#and then they separated them into different corners and never let them interact positively again #sega i hate you #tbd #sonic

2 notes · View notes

mochegato · 3 years

Text

Even the Losers

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Monday morning came both too soon and too distant for Marinette’s taste. She looked up at the dark, intimidating Wayne Enterprises building as she and Max walked past it on their way to the cafe and swallowed hard. She should have figured she would have to pass by the Wayne Enterprises building at some point, but she still wasn’t ready to see the dominating building so close. They were a few blocks away and she still had to crane her neck to see the top.

Of course M. Fox would want to meet near his office. He was already being beyond considerate having the meeting outside of the office building, expecting him to meet far away from his work was excessive. She could stomach it. It was just a building. This meeting was important. This was Max’s chance to wow M. Fox and get an amazing position. She took a deep breath and continued forward despite it feeling like wading through increasingly deep water the closer they got to the WE building.

Max touched Marinette’s forearm to gain her attention. She nearly jumped at his touch but quickly covered with an embarrassed smile and inquisitive hum. “Are you okay?”

Marinette glanced toward the WE building but quickly looked back to him with an unconvincing smile. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she tried to assure him. Judging by the frown forming on his lips, he was unassured.

“Is there anything I should know?” Max asked uncertainly.

“Nothing of consequence,” Mari promised with a weak smile.

Max adjusted his glasses nervously and darted his eyes between Marinette and the sidewalk ahead of them a few times, trying to work up the courage to ask the question on his mind. ��Marinette,” he started slowly. “You didn’t do anything illegal for the plan. Did you?”

Marinette whipped her head toward him wide eyed. “What?”

Max cringed under her gaze. “I just… you’re a very devoted friend and…” He sighed and looked away. “I just need to know if we need to worry about the Waynes coming after us. I’d like to be prepared.”

Marinette's dour expression turned giddy as she started laughing joyfully. After a minute, she wiped away a tear that had started to form in the corner of her eyes and fixed Max with a sincere look. “No. I didn't. None of us did. I would have, but no laws were broken in the making or execution of this plan.” She grinned and looped her arm through his, pulling him forward with a lighter step than before. “I just presented your work to M. Fox and he was extremely impressed. Come on, the cafe is just around the corner.”

Max gave her an unimpressed look. “Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure I may have violated a few laws tracking down the call you had me trace last week.”

Marinette suddenly froze, her smile becoming significantly weaker. “That wasn’t part of the plan. That was a separate quest,” she tried to joke.

“And it just so happened to be M. Wayne’s phone number.” His skepticism was clear in his voice even if he was too polite to call her out directly.

“It wasn’t part of the plan, really,” she promised quietly. “That was… It had nothing to do with getting you a job.”

Max opened his mouth to ask another question but was interrupted by Marinette’s phone ringing. Marinette pulled it out and rolled her eyes at Alya’s name lighting it up. She hit the button to ignore it with a shrug. “She’s probably really excited to see how your meeting went and didn’t convert the time correctly,” she laughed to Max.

Max smiled and nodded in agreement. He opened his mouth to comment but Marinette’s phone started ringing again. She furrowed her brow at it this time and groaned. “Very excited,” she grumbled, hitting the ignore button again.

Max opened his mouth again but again was interrupted but this time by his phone and Marinette’s phone. He pulled it out and looked at it. “Nino?”

“What the Hell, Alya,” Marinette grumbled. She was about to hit the accept button so she could yell at Alya to leave them alone but got interrupted by a loud cry right in front of her.

“Hey, it’s you!”

Marinette and Max looked at each other with matching confused looks. The man that had said it pulled out his phone and switched on a recording device. “Do you have any comment on the story in today’s paper?” the man, likely a reporter Marinette decided, demanded, shoving his phone in her face so violently, it would have hit her if she hadn’t jerked her face back in time.

Marinette stared at the man for a few seconds, her face scrunching in confusion before quickly smoothing over into an impassive mask. “I haven’t seen the paper this morning. So no, no comment on a story I know nothing about.”

She tried to push past the reporter only for him to move immediately into her path. She looked around as more people joined, not reporters, she didn’t think, just people interested in finding out what was going on, rather than helping them. The reporter pushed further in front of her, refusing to let her pass. He held the day’s Gotham Gazette in front of her face. Marinette had to back away in order to actually be able to read the headline.

She had to consciously force her eyes to stop from widening in front of the audience. She forced her breathing to slow as her eyes scanned the headline and picture. Across the top of the page in bold, block font was the headline ‘More than One New Wayne Introduced’ above a picture of her and Adrien speaking with Bruce Wayne. She glanced at the caption below the picture, her nose wrinkling in annoyance at the words. “Newly discovered Wayne, Marinette Cheng Wayne introduces fiancé Adrien Agreste to her father, Bruce Wayne.”

Max gasped at the headline and cocked his head to the side in confusion. He looked between it and Marinette a few times. He opened his mouth to comment on how ludicrous it was but decided to defer to however Marinette wanted to handle it. Instead, he gripped her arm in an attempt to show support and looked around them, calculating different plans to get them out of the crowd.

Marinette took a calming breath and looked back at the reporter with a cool gaze. “You couldn’t even be bothered to get the names of the people involved correct. I have little interest in reading the rest, which is likely as poorly researched. Now if you will excuse me, I have an appointment to get to.”

She tried to move around the reporter but he stepped in front of her, only centimeters between them as he did, and leaned closer to her. “Why haven’t we heard of you before Ms. Cheng? Embarrassed about your family’s history with crime in our city,” he cocked his head to the side and gave her a vicious grinned. “Or was it your family that was embarrassed about you?”

Marinette bit her tongue hard enough to draw blood and glared at the man. “It sounds like you are insinuating the Waynes are associated with crime in Gotham. Surely you didn’t mean to insinuate such a thing, right? Such as slanderous comment,” she tutted in a condescending tone. “I’m sure whatever publication you’re working for would not appreciate such a careless, defamatory, negligent comment.”

The man puffed out his cheeks, which were quickly becoming red with anger. He tensed his body. Marinette tensed hers in response. What he intended to do exactly, she’d never know because just at that moment, the man froze as a hand settled hard on his shoulder. “I can assure you that is exactly the kind of allegation Mr. Wayne and Wayne Enterprises would both pursue legal action over. Now, I believe the young lady said she had an appointment,” Lucius Fox said with a cutting smile.

The reporter scowled at Lucius, but backed away. The crowd of people around parted at his presence. Marinette shot him a grateful smile. “Ms. Dupain Cheng, Mr. Kante,” Lucius nodded to them both. “Are you ready?”

Marinette and Max nodded and moved toward the café ahead of him. The host led them to a spot toward the back where they could have some privacy. Marinette touched Max’s shoulder. She gave him a concerned look. Max’s eyes darted forward to Lucius and back to Marinette. He nodded then jerked his head toward her. The smile she plastered on was even less convincing than her earlier one, but Max pretended like it wasn’t. He leaned closer to her, speaking quietly enough that nobody could hear him. “You should let Adrien and Alya know.”

Marinette sucked in a breath and looked toward her phone warily. It was still ringing and chiming nonstop. She turned it off and leaned closer to Max. “Markov, can you text Alya and Adrien and let them know we’re all okay but I turned off my phone for a while. If they need me they can text you or Max and we plan on returning to the hotel immediately after this meeting. If you both are okay with that.” Max nodded and lifted the flap for his messenger bag to reveal Markov sitting atop her folded up gala dress. Markov looked between the two of them and gave Marinette a resolute nod.

“Thank you, Markov,” Marinette whispered, trusting his sensitive sensors to hear her.

When they arrived at the table, Lucius waited for the host to retreat before looking over to Marinette with a concerned look. “Did you need a break for a few minutes or to call anyone?”

Marinette gave him a tight, strained smile and shook her head. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” She would make it through this. She wasn’t going to cry. She could wallow in self-recriminations later. Right now, she needed to focus on making sure Max was given his shot.

Lucius nodded and looked down at the menu the waitress brought over. After a few minutes of silence he glanced over to Marinette. “Always something going on in Gotham.” If Marinette didn’t know better she would think his tone was apologetic.

“Certainly has been full of surprises,” she stated instead, focusing on the menu.

“Certainly puts certain interactions at the gala a new perspective,” he observed carefully, keeping his eyes on his own menu.

Marinette’s focus sharpened on the menu in her hands. Her jaw tensed and her lips thinned. “I’m sure you will understand, M. Fox, when I say my private life is not something I care to discuss with people I do not know well.”

Lucius nodded. “I do.” He looked over the menu for a few seconds, keeping his face buried in the menu, he lifted his eyes to observe Max, noting his stiff posture. His eyes were darting over to Marinette every so often and worrying his lip. “You understand you could have just gotten him a position. One phone call is all it would have taken. You didn't need to go through all of this.” His eyes flicked over to Marinette as he spoke.

Marinette met his eyes, a fierce set to them. “He doesn't need somebody to get him a position,” she snapped. “He's brilliant. He just needed somebody to see him. He just needed an even playing field to shine. He didn’t need me calling in favors. He’s earned the attention he gets.”

Lucius stared at her for a few seconds, analyzing her before finally coming to a decision. He set his menu down and nodded curtly. “No, he does not need help. His work speaks for itself. I spent the weekend researching you, Mr. Kante, and I have to say, you are an impressive young man. You are exactly the kind of talent we seek out. The fact that we didn’t speaks to the utter failure that our recruiting staff has been. And I must apologize for what happened to you. We will be reviewing Mr. Rabler’s actions since he was employed by us to properly deal with any other incidents such as yours.”

Max nodded, adjusting his glasses with a satisfied smile. He was saved from trying to come up with a response when the waitress came back to take their orders. There was a brief lull after the waitress left, Max and Marinette both uncertain where to push the discussion next and waiting for M. Fox to drive the conversation.

“Now, if I did my research correctly,” Lucius started with a secretive smile, “then I expect you have someone else with you.” He looked pointedly at Max’s bag.

Max’s smile turned sheepish and he opened his bag to let Markov come out. “This is Markov. I was hoping he would be able to work with me.”

“Of course,” Lucius nodded in agreement. “It is nice to meet you, Markov.”

Markov zipped up higher in excitement. “It is very exciting to meet you, M. Fox. I have found very exciting information about you and Wayne Enterprises.”

Lucius chuckled. “That is good to hear. We will have no issue with Markov working with you, but we have added several sections to your contract to cover what Markov is allowed to do and what he isn’t. We have a lot of sensitive material, as I’m sure you are aware. We are quite paranoid about protecting it. We have also come up with a contract for Markov, but legal says we have to add sections to your contract as well since legally, Markov is not considered his own entity.”

Marinette beamed at Lucius and squeezed Max’s hand under the table, never more certain than at that moment that Max was going to be taken care of. Max pretended to adjust his glasses so he could wipe at his eyes. He looked over to Markov to gauge his response. Seeing the weepy eye display, Max smiled and looked back at Lucius. “Thank you, M. Fox for your consideration. It means a lot to us both.”

Lucius gave him a soft smile and looked over to Marinette. “We also have a contract for you, Ms. Dupain Cheng. I had legal draw it up yesterday. Not excited to work on a Sunday,” he shrugged guiltily, “but we gave them a lot of compensation for their time. I drew it up before I knew of any other… associations so Mr. Wayne may want to modify it, but it is there if you are interested. We will need a designer for the project, someone with intricate knowledge of fabrics and a demonstrated ability to work with them. Given your involvement thus far and your work on the dress for the gala, you seemed like the natural choice.”

Marinette looked down and took a breath. She looked over to Max to see how he was faring. He gave her a supportive smile and nodded to her. “As I said before, that is kind of you to offer but I have other plans that do not involve Wayne Enterprises. And my ‘involvement’ thus far has been getting your attention. It would likely be better for the project if you continued without me.”

“That is not strictly accurate,” Markov spoke up.

Max nodded in agreement. “Your help was invaluable, Marinette. Not only your insight into different characteristics in different fabrics and how changes affected the elements of the fabric, but also the different approaches to problem solving. I could not have done this without you,” Max stated earnestly. He turned to Lucius. “She worked with me to explain tensile strength and different weaves and how that would affect how the fabric appears and what you can do with it.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and she looked over to Lucius quickly. “He’s being modest. He did the work. He came up with the formulas. He…”

She was interrupted by the arrival of the waitress with their food. Lucius waited for the waitress to leave before he sent her a soft smile. “I understand collaboration, Ms. Dupain Cheng. Mr. Kante’s words don’t make me doubt his work. If anything, it confirms my faith in him. I also researched you this weekend, Ms. Dupain Cheng. You are quite talented. Your designs are elegant and bold and you personally have always gone out of your way to help your community. Those are all ideals Wayne Enterprises strives for. Along with what Mr. Kante said, you should know, I’ll be pursuing you and it has absolutely nothing to do with your…. With Mr. Wayne.”

Marinette looked down to her plate with a blush and nodded. “Thank you, M. Fox. I will consider it, but…” she furrowed her brow in frustration, not knowing how to say what she was thinking and not knowing if she should even if she could.

“You have time to consider it, Ms. Dupain Cheng. But for now, we should eat. The food here is extremely good.” Marinette’s shoulders relaxed and she sent him another grateful smile. She looked over to Max and Markov and smiled before taking a bite of her breakfast. “Now, Mr. Kante, I would love to hear more about your invention, unless you would prefer to wait until the contract is signed.” Max smiled excitedly at Lucius and pulled out the dress as he described the process for working on the fabric while Marinette and Markov looked on proudly.

Chapter 4

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo

#maribat #bio!dad bruce #bio dad bruce wayne #roynette #Even the Losers #mbdbwm2021 #prompt - identities

307 notes · View notes

well-its-not-human-anymore · 3 years

Note

Hi! Could I get HC from the guys? 👀 How they would always react to catching the reader seeing them "badly", in addition to the fact that he usually avoids them, but with his brothers it is incredible and they feel bad because they think they do not like him. But she actually likes them and she looks at them like that because she "studies" them to draw them and she is too clumsy and shy to talk to them, that's why she ends up avoiding them. Until finally he catches her drawing them with lots of hearts or maybe they'll find her notebook with lots of portraits of them.

It's kind of funny because when I study people to draw them, they think that I look at them with hatred xd maybe I should increase my glasses prescription

God, glasses are such a pain in the ass but I have to wear them. If I don't anyone within my near vicinity doesn't have a face. But why they gotta get dirty so easily???? Makes me wanna explode or something

TMNT Headcanons

The boys w/ a quiet reader who is fine with his brothers but acts cold around him and stares a lot

Michaelangelo

mikey couldn't describe his disappointment upon realizing that you didn't want to be friends with him

well, you never actually said that to him

but he was pretty sure it was the case

you'd never made an effort to be friends with him

stared at him an awful lot though, but there was always something off about your gaze when you looked at him

like you were sizing him up, scrutinizing him, like he was an opponent

it kinda worried him

to add to that, you didn't even attempt to look embarrassed when he caught you staring

you'd just stare harder

on your end it was quite the opposite

you always found the brothers fascinating and you LOVED studying their anatomy, you'd confessed this to Donnie early on and he happily indulged in your questions

and you loved how easily you got along with the boys

well, except for Mikey

but it wasn't for a lack of trying

whenever the orange sporting turtle came around your normally flamboyant personality crept back into its little corner and hid

any words of excitement that had previously been with you died in your throat

for the longest time you didn't understand it

and you hated not understanding things, so you turned to your only outlet

that's how you ended up with an entire sketchbook full of the youngest brother in vastly different styles and poses

you had a separate book for the others, none of them as detailed as this

and when you stared to analyze you'd fallen into a habit of not looking away when caught

by your logic, if you stared back hard enough he'd look away first or just assume you'd zoned out

he didn't

and on one hectic day you'd left your sketchbook open on the kitchen table in your rush to get to work

you hadn't even noticed the slip up until Leo texted you to let you know during your shift

instant panic

in truth, Mikey was the one who discovered the book upon waking up from his nap and he'd spent the next three hours analyzing every drawing

when you finally dropped in after work to grab your book the turtle was waiting for you with it in hand

he'd asked you if you hated him

you told him no and accepted your sketchbook from him

he was relieved and screaming excitedly, just in his head

"Do you maybe wanna hang out sometime?"

You sighed in relief and nodded

"If you're cool with it- you don't think I'm weird do you?"

"I mean- you are talking to a turtle..."

you lightly shoved his chest and smiled, although it faded within a second

"Oh hush, 10 o'clock tomorrow? I'll bring snacks."

he was so stunned he could only shoot you finger guns in approval

Donatello

Donnie genuinely couldn't understand your unease around him

he'd followed all the proper expectations of holding a conversation

he was polite and engaging

so why wouldn't you talk to him?

this boy has read so many social blogs to try and figure out what he was doing wrong and he just couldn't put his finger on it

you were fine with the rest of his brothers, you'd stay up for hours laughing and gaming with them

you'd even sat still long enough to listen to Leo explain some old Japanese myth that he'd read about in a book

but with him it was always a quick, cordial greetings and farewells with bland small talk in between

Donnie had picked up pretty quickly that you weren't interested in any sort of interaction with him

and he convinced himself that that was okay

but that didn't explain the staring

he'd caught you in the act several times, eyes narrowed and locked on him

especially when you were alone with him in a room or just in the lair

the poor turtle just couldn't put his finger on it

then he caught you drawing, he noticed early on that you always carried a small sketchbook on your person but he didn't think much of it

and it wasn't so much that he caught you drawing, in fact, he wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't snapped at him while he was trying to do a sudoku puzzle

"Damn it Donnie! Stop moving! If I fuck this arm up one more time I'm gonna decompose!"

he'd quickly moved back into the position he was in prior

"sorry?"

but you'd gone silent again, occasionally glancing up from your work and running your eyes along his frame before looking down again

nearly twenty minutes later Donnie had finished the puzzle and it seemed as though you had finished your drawing

"Uh- can I ask what are you-"

"I'm drawing you but you kept moving your arm and making me mess up. You always do that when I draw you so every damn picture I have of you stays a sketch because you always come out looking like a fucking octopus."

He just stared

"Sorry, I uh- I didn't mean to explode on you like that. I'm just- I'm really bad at talking to you okay? It's so easy with everyone else but you've just gotta be so damn smart all the time and I worry that you'll think I'm boring so I just... don't talk to you?"

Donnie is stunned™

You refuse to show him the drawing until you can complete the line art and color it

But at least he knows that you don't hate him

Leonardo

To be completely honest Leo didn't mind that you were distant from him

You created an aura of calm when you were around and you always managed to distract his brothers while you were present

And he enjoyed the alone time

But after a few months that calm acceptance turned into jealousy

Not that he would ever admit it

He would just push it off and ignore it, that usually seemed to work

So why wasn't it?

And your obvious staring problem didn't help at all

Leo didn't spend much time considering his appearance but something about your gaze made him self conscious

And he hated that with a passion

Why was it that you could hold entire debates with his siblings? Even his dad for gods sake. You'd have hour long conversations on almost everything but whenever he tried to say hello you'd make up some lame ass excuse and scamper away

He just wanted an explanation

It appeared that the answer resided in your sketchbook

You'd left it open on the couch when Raph had called you away to spar with him

Leo very delicately flipped through the pages, careful not to disturb some of the polaroid pictures of his brothers

He was admittedly surprised to find pictures of himself among the pages

One of him in a handstand, another of him meditating, there was even one of him mid sneeze that you'd recreated with pencil and paper

The image of his eyes was the most startling, but the book held no polaroid of his eyes

You drew them from memory

And he was shocked when you returned to the room and didn't immediately panic

But that might have been because he didn't try to withhold your book from you

"It took me three months to color them, your eyes. I could never get the shade of blue just right."

"I'm gonna be honest with you y/n, I really thought you didn't like me."

You had the nerve to roll your eyes and follow it with a laugh

"I don't. I mean- I do but no, you just remind me a lot of myself and I haven't exactly figured out why yet. I thought that maybe if I drew you it'd be easier to figure you out..."

"Well did it help?"

You grinned

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Raphael

If there was one thing Raph hated it was not understanding something that was right in front of him

which is ironic, as a much younger version of himself probably couldn't care less

and a part of him wishes he didn't care about it so much

he wishes that your blatant avoidance of him didn't upset him

but shit, it got under his skin better than any needle ever could

was it too much to ask for you to just tell him what he said or did wrong?

was he asking too much of you?

but on the same scale you'd never shown obvious dislike towards him, you were never rude and you sure as hell didn't talk shit about him to his brothers

you got along great with them

in fact it was getting more difficult to remember a time before you became a part of his family

he'd become so used to your presence that it no longer put him off when he found you hanging around the lair

but in another sense he was certain that you hadn't spoken more than three sentences to him in your time knowing him or his family

so what was the reason

several months in he finally caught onto the staring, your narrow, glassy gaze locked onto his body and refusing to look away

he stared right back at you

this annoyed you for several reasons

because within five seconds your very peaceful drawing session had turned into a staring contest and your eyes were getting VERY dry

then you exhaled in a half-sigh and looked back down at your paper

"Huh, I guess your head is more of an oblong shape..."

he took offense to this

"What tha' hell is that supposed t'mean?"

now your eyes held more of an amused silent judgement, you begrudgingly held up your sketchbook

"I'm drawing you, you fucking walnut."

"Oh..."

now you rolled you eyes and tossed the book to him, he nearly dropped it and fumbled with the pages

your annoyance was quickly growing

"Careful with that."

He flipped through the pages at a snails pace, assumingly because he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing

you had some real talent

when he looked back up at you he was wearing that crooked smile

"and here I was thinkin' that my eyes were just green."

Hope I was able to get this down pretty well! I really enjoyed writing this one! Thanks for the patience!

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x reader #writing blog #writing requests #askbox #ask response #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo

356 notes · View notes

whoopsieintheuniverse · 3 years

Text

Comfortable

AN: It’s herrrree! Illumi smut as promised. If you like this, feel free to commission me for your own, personalized smut with your favorite character!~ ko-fi.com/whoopsieintheuniverse

Also, this can be read as an addition to my Illumi series, or separately. This is honestly just tooth-rotting fluff and smut. No plot.

CW: body worship, Illumi. hair pulling and some spanking. Minors, pls do not interact. Thnks.

A hand rested on Y/N’s stomach. It stayed there, basking in the warmth it found, before trailing down and settling on plush thighs. Illumi regarded the sleeping figure tucked firmly into his form. Y/N. They differed from the Zoldycks, from Illumi, in every way. Where Illumi and his family were blood and iron, hard lines and even harder features, Y/N was like cotton on a cloud. Soft. Gentle. Comfortable.

Illumi allowed a smile to crack his stony expression. His hand that rested on Y/N’s thighs travelled back up to their stomach. He squeezed before trailing his nails up to their chest. Illumi paused and closed his eyes, allowing himself to count their heartbeats as their chest rose and fell.

Yes, this was comfortable. If he had to steal, to kill, it was no problem. He was used to carnage, destruction, death. Illumi was raised as a Zoldyck; he was to make the shadows his home, and death a constant ally. Illumi looked down again as Y/N snored. No, now he was home.

Y/N shifted again, pressing themselves further into Illumi’s embrace. He closed his eyes, basking in the warmth that they had to offer. Illumi pressed himself further into Y/N. Soft. Maybe he could have more…

Gently, Illumi reached up to Y/N’s face and stroked it. He breathed a kiss over their lips before whispering their name.

“Y/N. Wake up.”

Y/N groaned and turned over. Illumi shook their shoulders.

Blearily, Y/N smacked their lips together.

Illumi huffed humorlessly, and he slowly caged Y/N’s body under his. Illumi started to pepper kisses on Y/N’s cheek before trailing down to breathe on their collarbone.

“Illumi?”

Illumi grunted, continuing his movement. Y/N’s back arched as they felt teeth dig into their shoulder. Y/N looked down into Illumi’s eyes. They watched as his eyes crinkled before closing in bliss. Y/N laid back and relaxed into the bed, sighing as they felt their shirt lift from their body. They raised their back off the mattress to help Illumi undress them, and Y/N giggled as eagerly, Illumi’s hands found their shoulders and guided them back to the bed. Illumi’s tongue traced the curves of their chest, taking time to explore every dip Y/N’s body had to offer. Illumi’s lips caressed one of Y/N’s nipples before locking on tightly. Y/N hissed at the contact.

“‘Lumi. It’s the middle of the night. What’s gotten into you?” Instead of answering, Illumi’s right hand plucked at the empty space on Y/N’s chest while his other floated to the side of their face. Y/N leaned into his touch, sighing and smiling at the sight in front of them.

Illumi sensed Y/N’s eyes on him. With a soft pop, Illumi let go of Y/N’s chest, a thin string of saliva still connecting them together.

“I didn’t realize I’d have an audience,” Illumi said.

“You’re just so pretty, I couldn’t help myself.”

Illumi huffed again before quickly kissing the corner of Y/N’s mouth. Y/N took the time to run their fingers through his hair, appreciating the silk that ran through their fingers. Illumi sat back on his haunches, and he pulled Y/N closer into his lap. Y/N squealed as they felt themselves and Illumi fall back on their bed, and they shivered when they felt his lips connect with theirs once again.

Slowly, Illumi’s body started to rock against Y/N’s, and Y/N let out a gasp as they felt his clothed erection press into them.

“Mm.. Illumi…”

“Hm?”

Y/N sat up, straddling Illumi’s hips. They placed their hands on his chest and smiled as they felt him grind against their backside. Illumi gripped Y/N’s hips tightly, before moving his hands back to Y/N’s behind and reveling in the cushion he found. Y/N giggled as Illumi squeezed them, and they let out a squeak as they realized that Illumi was pushing them further up his body.

“‘Lumi, I don’t know,” Y/N trailed off. Illumi froze and looked up at Y/N, who was now straddling his chest.

“Did I misread the situation?” he asked.

Y/N felt their face and shoulders burn. They stared at Illumi’s forehead instead of meeting his eyes.

“We’ve never done this before.”

“No. We’ve had sex plenty of times, Y/N.”

Y/N groaned and tried to roll off of Illumi, but his grip stopped them.

“Not that,” Y/N said. “I mean, what you’re about to do.”

“Sorry, but now I’m even more confused. I’ve given you oral sex before as well, Y/N.”

“Not in this position, Illumi!”

“So?”

“I’m nervous. My thighs are bigger than your head.”

Suddenly, a slap sounded through the room. Y/N jumped as they felt a sting on their behind. Y/N looked down and was met with hunger in Illumi’s eyes. He looked up at them, and a small smile cracked across his face.

“I know.”

“Illu-hey!” Y/N’s body swayed as Illumi heaved them up to his mouth. They grunted as Illumi’s lips started to peck at their inner thighs. Y/N reached down and threaded their fingers through Illumi’s hair and bucked into his mouth as he started to suckle on them. Y/N grinded themselves against Illumi’s mouth, softly moaning as his tongue explored their core.

“Shit! Illumi…” Y/N rocked against his lips, and Illumi’s muffled chuckle sounded from between their thighs. Illumi’s hand came down again in a harsh strike on Y/N’s ass, and they moaned at the contact. Heat started to build in Y/N’s depths, and without warning, Illumi lifted Y/N from his mouth with a smack of his lips.

“What the hell? Tease!” Y/N complained. They tried to scramble back up to Illumi’s lips, but easily, Illumi flipped the pair over so that he was on top of Y/N. He sat back and examined Y/N’s form sprawled before him. Illumi let his hands grope their stomach, squeezing the soft flesh. His hand travelled down to Y/N’s parted thighs, and Y/N moaned again when his fingertips found their saliva slick center. One finger breached Y/N’s center, and Y/N hand flew down to grab at Illumi’s wrist.

“Too much?” Illumi asked. Y/N nodded, and carefully, Illumi withdrew his finger and crept to the side of his bed to retrieve a small bottle of lube. Y/N watched as Illumi slicked his fingers and returned to part Y/N open again. This time, Y/N hissed at the cold, but soon found themselves rocking along to Illumi’s movement’s inside of them. Slowly, the heat Y/N lost just moments before started somersaulting in their stomach. Still, it wasn’t enough.

“Lumi...want more…” Y/N said. Illumi tilted his head before nodding. Y/N watched as Illumi freed himself from his briefs. They licked their lips, eyes fixated on the straining flesh in front of them.

“Illumi...” Y/N whined. Illumi trapped Y/N underneath them, bringing their legs up to wrap around his waist. Y/N let out a breath as Illumi ground against him. Their nails raked down his back, and they bit their lip as Illumi prodded their entrance. Y/N squirmed at the intrusion and moaned as Illumi captured their lips in another searing kiss. Slowly, Illumi started to rock into Y/N, carefully caressing their sides. Illumi buried his face into their neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses. Y/N scratched at Illumi’s back, and their hands found their way to his behind. Illumi groaned as he felt Y/N press into his backside, spurring him on.

“Harder...please. More.”

Illumi’s hips rolled and Y/N moaned as he started to pick up the pace. The heat in their core ignited again. Illumi’s hips slapped against theirs brutally, and tears pricked the corners of Y/N’s eyes. Illumi’s hands found purchase against Y/N’s thighs; he lifted them into his hands and pulled Y/N even closer to him. Y/N wailed at the change in angle. So close, yet so far away. Each strike of Illumi’s hips sent them further careening into bliss. The room was heavy and hot, the muffled sounds of gasps and pleasured moans sounding off into the night. Y/N’s skin was ablaze, and a sheen of sweat started to cover them. Y/N looked up at Illumi, and found themselves staring at deep, dark eyes full of desire and love. Just as Illumi started to hit the spot that made Y/N see stars, Illumi dropped and draped his body over Y/N’s. Illumi pressed his forehead to Y/N’s, and Y/N smiled as they felt his breath ghost over their eyelashes.

“Y/N,” Illumi breathed.

Sensing how close they both were, Y/N reached for Illumi’s hand and wrapped their fingers around it tightly.

“Illumi, sweetie. Cum with me, okay?”

Illumi inhaled sharply and groaned. Y/N reached up and threaded their fingers through Illumi’s hair, tugging lightly as they went. They watched with glee as his eyes rolled back and his lips parted to let out a breathy moan. Y/N’s legs stretched and clamped around Illumi as the pressure in the pit of their stomach hit its breaking point. Y/N was first to tumble off that cliff, with Illumi chasing them not long after. Y/N whimpered, overstimulated, as Illumi slowed inside of them, sighing in relief when he stopped. Illumi and Y/N stayed connected, hearts slowing and breath quieting down to a lull. After a while, Y/N started to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Illumi asked.

Y/N shrugged with a smile on their face.

“I don’t know. It’s funny I guess...I’m just...I’m comfortable...like this. With you. I’m comfortable.”

Illumi fell silent for a moment, before placing a small kiss on Y/N’s forehead.

“I am as well.”

#illumi zoldyck #illumi #illumi x chubby reader #x chubby reader #illumi zoldyck x reader #illumi zoldyck x chubby reader #hxh #hxh x reader #hxh x chubby reader #Hunter X Hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter x chubby reader

240 notes · View notes

seasonofthewicth · 3 years

Text

nobody does it like you do - act 3

Here is act 3!!! Thank you so much for all of your enthusiasm so far! Hope you enjoy :)

8.6k - masterlist - ao3

Aelin has never really thought of herself as someone with a lot of friends. She’s always had Elide, Aedion and Lysandra, but they almost fall into a separate category. Like what they’ve been through surpasses friendship, and she thinks at this point Elide and Lysandra are as much her family as Aedion.

Throughout her years in the industry she hasn’t made many friends, Chaol and Dorian are probably the only two, but she's learned how things work. It didn't take her long to realise that all the girls she met at auditions, and bonded with over all of the things they had in common, would have stabbed her right in the back at the earliest opportunity.

It's cutthroat, but she can't say she's never succumbed to the temptations.

She’d be lying if she said she’d never pretended she was there to audition for another character just to get the other actress to spill her analysis of the character. She can’t say it was unintentional when she’d leave the audition room and then pretend to take a phone call where she’d discuss how pleased the casting director had been with her take and had promised to call, watching the faces fall of the other hopefuls she waltzed past.

She can’t say she’d never do it again.

That said, she feels like she has a good thing going with Fenrys, Manon and Rowan. They've hung out a couple of times and she likes them admittedly more than she thought she would at first. The dynamic is fast and snappy, funny and sarcastic, and she can feel herself getting back into the old motions.

Aelin knows they’re friends now, and it feels really fucking good, but she has one concern. She’s not entirely sure that what she feels for Rowan can be described as friendship and she’s kicking herself for letting it happen. The physical attraction she can excuse, he looks how he looks and she’s defenseless against that, but the rest? The rest is where she’s really let herself go.

He’s opened up to them a lot more now, and they spend a lot more time together than they did at the start. Just last week she had thrown herself into her seat at the end of a long day of shooting and plunked her feet in his lap. She had expected him to throw them off and growl something at her, but he had simply rested his left hand on her ankle and continued to scroll through his phone with his right.

It had felt far too easy to settle into his touch, and far too enjoyable to have the heat of his skin against her own.

Even so, there’s a level of detachment to his interaction with them. He falls somewhere between bemused dad and despairing lecturer tasked with herding a group of unruly children through a life or death venture. He curses actors all day long but he’s just as dramatic. There are moments when she catches him beginning to smile at a comment from Fenrys or the bickering she and Manon do before he halts himself and seems to rein it back in.

She wants to see him grin.

It’s kind of weird to think back to the first week of shooting and how unsure she felt around them, how insecure she was of her own ability compared to theirs, but by now she’s pretty sure she’s past the worst of that and she doesn’t want to waste any more time doubting herself, at least in comparison to them. It helps when Rowan makes little comments like nice job, Aelin or when she catches the nod he does after she nails a scene, especially when he tries to hide it.

She posted a picture on Instagram of the four of them from set last week, her and Manon crouched at the front wrapped up again in the massive coats they give them on set, their faces almost completely covered by the puffed up collars, and Rowan and Fenrys stood behind them, their arms crossed across their chests and faces twisted into overly dramatic imitations of anger. It had taken some pleading and possible bribery from Fenrys to get Rowan to agree to the pose, but they had succeeded in the end.

She had captioned it so we stole their coats… and tagged each of them, watching as the likes came flooding in. Only seconds later the comments had begun to run a bit wild.

This is going to be so good I can already tell.

fenrys looks so hot fuck me up

ARMS!ARMS!ARMS!ARMS!

Are they dating?

She stopped reading the comments pretty quickly after that.

They’re about a third of the way into shooting, and Aelin knows what she’s accomplished so far is some of her best work. It hasn’t been easy, but she’s put hours and hours of her time into understanding her character and she feels like she truly knows Feyre, and almost sees some of herself in her. There are differences of course, Aelin isn’t quite as naive as Feyre or as forgiving, but they’ve both been dealt a shitty hand, and Aelin likes to think she’s working just as hard as Feyre to pick herself back up.

She finishes the take, and slaps her usual high-five against Fenrys’ palm and sends her regular nod over to Rowan. Good? Her nod asks. Good, his own gesture returns. She tucks her smile away as she begins to wander over to where he’s stood chatting with a producer.

She’s built a habit of going over to him once they finish shooting, she wants to seek him out constantly, and she feels drawn to him in a way that she’s beginning to lose the fight against. She’s about halfway towards him when she spots a tall head of brown hair making its way towards her.

She barely has time to process before there are a pair of strong arms around her waist and she’s being lifted up and swung around, her feet dangling inches above the ground.

“Hello, superstar.” His voice is deep in her ear and she can feel the vibrations where she buries her face into his neck.

“Gods! I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.”

She gasps as he places her back down on the ground and she can finally smile up at Chaol. Taking in the chestnut-brown of his hair and the faint creases beginning at the corners of his rich brown eyes. Gods, she’s missed him.

She’s known he’d be visiting the set at some point. The Crescent City is his baby, a script he’s been working on for years, and she knows he couldn’t stomach leaving it all to Rowan without any supervision.

He had first mentioned it to her a few years ago, but back then it was nothing more than an idea. Aelin knew he had been chipping away at it in the background for a while and it wasn’t a surprise when he first sent it to her. It’s different now though, now that there’s a budget and a set and actual progress made in getting it on screen.

It feels like a big deal to her; she can’t imagine how Chaol feels.

She had never dreamed though, through all of their midnight conversations about it and their half-dreaming out loud discussions, that she would be the one to star in it.

Chaol just grins at her, a twinkle in his eyes that she knows means he’s happy, and says “thought I’d surprise you.”

“It’s definitely a surprise.” She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck for a second time. She squeezes him tight and breathes him in, his smell is comforting and it makes her feel young again. “How long are you here for?”

He gives her waist a short squeeze, reminding her that his hands are still resting there with hers still up on his shoulders. It’s not the closest she’s ever been to him, and it doesn’t cross her mind for her touching him so freely to be an issue.

“A couple of days.” He smiles down at her again. “Lunch?”

“Of course, let me change first?” She asks, releasing his shoulders and turning to walk back to her trailer. He holds a hand out, as if to say lead the way.

She sets off as he follows, and she can feel the lightness of the wide smile across her face. It’s a kind of comfort now that Chaol is here, he’s taken care of her for so many years and his presence grounds her in a way she hasn’t really found with many other people.

Rowan still stands with the producer behind where some of the team are tinkering with the filming equipment. His brow is drawn into a frown and the producer standing with him has begun to look profoundly uncomfortable.

The take was good, she knows that, and when he runs a jagged hand over his face a jolt of concern strikes her. He looks anguished, or frustrated, and she wonders how he’s soured so quickly after the silent exchange they shared mere moments ago.

His gaze snaps to hers and it’s a powerful thing. His stare weighs heavily into her, so much so she wants to look away and her steps falter. The stumble is barely perceptible, but she sees it and thinks maybe he does too. There’s something thorny in the pull of his brows and the twist of his mouth and she wants to go over, ease his troubles, but that’s not her place. And Chaol is inches behind her following her lead.

Rowan’s eyes flick to Chaol and his mouth twists further. And not to get ahead of herself yet again, but surely not, right? His gaze switches back to rest on her, only for a second longer before he mouths something short and sharp to the producer and disappears.

Aelin shakes it off. She might think they’re friends, but as has become her mantra, he’s her boss. What she needs is something gentle and simple and uncomplicated. In the real world, everything she wants from Rowan is decidedly complicated.

Sitting opposite Chaol is a place she’s been many times before. More often than not, Dorian would have taken up the mantle at Chaol’s side, the pair of them closer than brothers. They have the kind of relationship she thinks truly cannot exist for people other than the two of them.

The level of understanding they share, the lengths they would go to for each other, it’s unparalleled and she longs to find a bond like that one day.

When she was younger being sat in a position like this, opposite Chaol, so close they could whisper to converse, would have been a dream. She had a bit of an infatuation with him when she first met him; he was a few years older than her, charming, handsome and calming. He had been her entrance to the world she lives in now and he had kept her safe and taken care of her.

She had thought he was everything she wanted.

She had realised pretty quickly, after going in for an ill advised kiss that he had swerved, that that would never be an option for them. He had let her down kindly and gently, which she appreciates now, even if it felt like a blow at the time.

He hadn’t let her pull back from him though, he had kept her close until she eventually got over the embarrassment and was able to look at him without blushing. It’s not something she dwells on now, she was young and naive and she could have done a lot worse than Chaol.

He was who she had gone to when she had met Sam. She had waxed poetic to him about the boy with the curly brown hair and the shy smile. She smiles lightly to herself at the thought of him, what he would make of where she’s at now.

He’d kiss her cheek with his arms around her waist, boasting how his girl, his baby, was a star in the making. She swallows the thought, struck by both the image and the lingering pain it brings, but also by the knowledge that she’s gone a couple of days without thinking of him.

She hasn’t thought of the boy with the brown eyes in a few days, hasn’t woken up screaming in even more. She breathes past the panic that threatens in her throat, both at the idea that she hasn’t thought of Sam for a while and the reasons there could be for that.

“How is the love of my life?” She focuses back on Chaol and watches him try very hard not to choke on his mouthful of his drink.

He had picked the cafe, even though she’s been in Rifthold for a while it is still far more his space than hers, and he knows the hidden gems like this that she isn’t privy to yet. It’s rustic and cosy, the brick walls have colourful bunting draped between them and none of the chairs inside match. She’ll have to come back if the food is good, the atmosphere inside is relaxed and busy enough that she can feel completely anonymous. She doesn’t want to leave, maybe next time she can bring a book.

“My beautiful wife is well,” he manages once he swallows, and she smirks at how he knows exactly what she’s asking. “Almost past the second trimester now, and still refusing to slow down.”

That sounds exactly like Yrene. She says as much and Chaol nods wearing the expression of a man who, if he didn’t love his wife so much, would be tired of chasing after her.

Yrene is a whirlwind of energy and efficiency and it’s why she’s one of Aelin’s favourite people. She’s full of exciting tales and inspiration, that is, when she can get Yrene to slow for a second enough to catch up. She probably doesn’t need her high paced job as a doctor in Rifthold General Hospital, like, Chaol’s scripts are successful, he’s won a number of awards that sit in a special cabinet in their house, but that’s just how Yrene is.

Caring and kind and so, so smart. If Aelin didn’t do what she does, she’d love to be like Yrene.

“Second trimester?” She cries. “He’s almost here!”

Chaol is again at risk of choking. “Aelin, please. I still have a few months left to get ready.”

He looks almost panicked and she scoffs. “Chaol, please.” She mocks his tone perfectly and ignores the eye roll he gives her. “You were born ready. You’ve basically raised me for the past few years and look how well I’m doing.”

He laughs, and she smiles, it’s exactly the reaction she wanted.

“I’m not sure that’s the glowing compliment you think it is,” He says dryly and she just pokes her tongue out at him.

“Chaol,” she begins, seriously this time. “You are already the best dad I know, you’ll be fine. And if not, the baby has Yrene, so he’ll definitely be fine.”

He doesn’t bite on any of it, just looks bashfully to the table cloth and nods. She can’t resist one last comment.

“And even then, he’ll have me and Dorian.”

“Gods, Aelin. The thought will send me to an early grave.”

She tilts her head to the side and sketches a flip of her hair over her shoulder. The combination of her and Dorian and a baby probably would give Chaol a heart attack but she’ll embody her role as the cool aunt, and Dorian can more than handle the cool uncle.

“Do you not want your child to be cool?” She knows he’s barely finding her funny at this point but she’s missed him and she loves winding him up.

He’s saved from having to respond by the arrival of their food. She stares longingly at his burger and greasy side of fries and forces herself to take a mouthful of her wilted salad.

After a few bites she notices his expression, something pinched around the corners of his mouth, and she knows there's something he wants to say.

To say that Chaol is less invested in her sobriety than Aedion and Lysandra would be a lie, but he doesn’t question it as openly as they do, so she doubts what he wants to say is anything to do with that. She’s ordered an orange juice to spice it up, and he has a tap water that he ordered without question so she thinks he mustn’t be concerned.

“What?” She says slowly, whatever it is she wants to know, and the pain of waiting for him to spit it out was almost too much.

He shakes his head and pops another fry into his mouth. She can’t resist stealing one and a swipe of ketchup off his plate.

He begins carefully, after using his napkin to dab at the corner of his mouth. “How is it going? You read the script pretty early on, do you think…”

He trails off, and seems to pause while he considers his words, but she doesn’t need him to finish.

“Chaol, I think it’s going really well,” she says and it’s sincere. “And it’s not just because I’m in it.”

It’s far easier to crack jokes and reassure others than it is to be the one being reassured.

He shoots her an unimpressed look, but she knows her words have done their job. Even through her faults she knows he trusts her judgement.

“I feel like you asked that in a way that meant you thought it wasn’t going well.”

She’s fishing a little, but Chaol is a gossip at heart, even worse than Dorian despite how he’d deny it.

He sees right through her, but relents as he takes another bite of his burger. She stabs another bundle of lettuce, dipping it in a pool of dressing resting in the bottom of her bowl as he swallows and speaks.

“I didn’t think it would go badly, but Fenrys Moonbeam has a bit of a reputation, and I just hope he’s taking it seriously. I put a lot of work into it.” He pauses and Aelin just waits. It doesn’t seem like he’s quite done. “Rowan Whitethorn too. But I think his reputation is a bit different.”

It puts her in a bit of a weird position with a sharp taste in her mouth, wanting to defend her new friends to one of her oldest, but Chaol has to understand that how he sees them isn’t right.

“I don’t think either of them is quite how you think.” She says it gently because she doesn’t want to risk irritating Chaol with this. “Fenrys works really hard, you know. He’s putting a lot of work into understanding Rhys, Rowan too. He puts a lot of thought into what he does, he’s really smart.”

He’s watching her silently, his eyes shining with a question she doesn’t want to answer.

“You’ve written an incredible story Chaol, we all want to do it justice.”

The quirk of his eyebrow is somewhat impressed as he takes her in, but maybe there’s something more in there. Something that catches the difference between the way she talks about Fenrys compared to the way she talks about Rowan.

“I’m glad,” is all he says.

“It’s going well,” she says and truly believes it. “I’ve said it before, but it really is a work of art, Chaol.”

She pauses, her next words thick in her throat. “Thank you… for writing it, I mean. It means a lot to me, and I am honoured to play this part.”

He nods thankfully, and she knows he appreciates the compliment but his response is typical Chaol. Quiet and understated but shining with sincerity.

There’s a moment before the corner of his mouth pulls upwards and she knows he’s just about to turn the game around and tease her now.

“A part of me wishes I hadn’t written so many intimate scenes between them, the thought of you and Fenrys Moonbeam…” He trails off.

She tugs her lips inwards between her teeth, pleading with the blush on her neck not to rise. They haven’t got to those scenes yet, and she’s been avoiding the idea of them. She doesn’t want to think about what she’ll have to do with Fenrys in a couple of weeks.

Fenrys isn’t the problem though, she knows he’ll be professional and respectful. The problem is that Rowan will be there, watching them, watching her, and the idea plays with her in a dangerous way. Everything about Rowan feels dangerous to her, and gods if that isn’t half the draw.

“I know we joked before, but you do know you’re not my father? You’re worse than Aedion,” she laughs.

Chaol just shakes his head, “I’m allowed to look out for you.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, but you’re only, what? Five years older than me?”

“Six. And Rowan Whitethorn is older than me.” The way he says it is noticeable, like he has a point to make.

“He is?”

So she didn’t know that, but it worries her how it doesn’t change things even a little bit. It doesn’t change how attractive he is, or the fact that she should be going nowhere near the idea of the two of them. She needs to call Elide, or her actual therapist.

“Yes, I think he was in the year above me at the Royal.”

She really doesn’t know all that much about him, hadn’t even known he went to the stage school in Adarlan.

What she knows is the fleeting moments she sees of him behind the camera, the expressions he makes when he’s impressed and when he’s not. She knows things like his coffee order, his hatred for the little pastries the catering department provide and how he doesn’t seem to drink alcohol. She knows about Lyria, but it’s from the internet, not him.

She doesn’t know him.

“Oh,” is all she manages.

Chaol eats another fry, watching her the whole time, and she wants him to look away. She has nothing to feel guilty about; they haven’t done anything. She has one, probably inadvisable, crush on her boss that she’ll speak to Elide about and get over. Then the movie will be done and she won’t ever have to see him again.

The dropping sensation in her stomach at the thought is less than desirable.

Chaol stays for a few days. He hangs around on set and sits in her chair while she films. It’s a pleasant kind of relief, tinged with an element of nostalgia, to have him around. He makes her feel like a kid again, and she feels herself looking towards him for approval when she desperately avoids how she wants to do the same to Rowan.

He relents on the second day, after having met Fenrys and Rowan properly, and admits to her that he thinks his baby is probably in good hands. She just says “I told you so,” because she’s a child and annoying Chaol is fun.

She’s sitting in Manon’s chair next to him, and they’re talking about Aedion. He and Chaol have a friendship she likes to pretend doesn’t stem from a mutual concern for her. Chaol is saying something about how he doesn’t envy Aedion’s schedule, but she’s barely listening.

Aelin’s watching where Rowan stands a few feet away. He’s wearing a soft-looking black sweatshirt and jeans, and she can’t help but imagine how it would feel to slip the sweatshirt on herself. How it would still be warm from his body, how the sleeves would trail way past her fingertips, how the smell of him would surround her.

He’s directing Manon, gesturing jaggedly with his hands and she’s nodding along. The shades of their hair almost match, Aelin notices absently, but she prefers the silver shine to Rowan’s compared to the clean-white of Manon’s. Rowan makes a gesture with his right hand and his fingers flex in a rhythmic movement, the elegant lengths of his fingers flowing freely in motion.

She wants to take that hand and put it on herself, she wants to run it down her side and between her thighs. She wants to take his fingers into her mouth and suck.

And like, what the fuck Aelin?

Texting Rowan is, objectively, a bad idea. Not that it’s a bad idea to text a colleague and ask to hang out, it’s just that that isn’t exactly what she wants to get from texting him. So yes; it’s a bad idea, and Aelin knows this, but she’s been thinking of doing it for a couple of days and the desire to do so hasn’t faded. She’s thought about it for long enough that she’s rationalised it, it’s not rash.

Aelin wants to know Rowan.

She taps away at her screen, hi rowan… No. That's not right. Aelin deletes it.

Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to… Nope. Not right either. She bites her lip while she backspaces the string of letters.

She wants to seem casual, so if he’s not into it it’s not awkward. Aelin’s a feminist, but she still doesn’t want to outright ask him out until she’s tested the waters a little more, got a bit of a better read on him and whether he could be into it or not.

She thinks he is, at least a little bit. She knows his eyes linger on her sometimes, sometimes her face, sometimes her arse. She likes it, but whether all he feels is attraction, or whether he feels the same as her is a mystery.

She still hasn’t spoken to Elide about it, but there’s a devil on her shoulder whispering that she’s probably past the point of no return already.

i’m sick of takeout, she types. want to go and grab a bite somewhere???

Aelin taps send before she can overthink it. She can always invite Fenrys to come along too if Rowan doesn’t seem keen on doing something just the two of us.

It’s not long before her phone buzzes with a response. You’re sick of takeout, so you want to go and eat out?

She chews the inside of her cheek, his response doesn’t really give her much. And while it’s not a rejection, it’s not a yes. Maybe her text was stupid, gods, why didn’t she think-

Her phone buzzes again. How about I cook something instead?

Much better. She smiles as she writes her response.

i don’t really want food poisoning :/// my boss might be a bit pissed if i can’t work

The bubble with the three dots pops up immediately, and her thumbs hover over the screen as she waits.

Ha. Ha. He sends, and she can’t fight the little laugh that escapes her as she imagines him rolling his eyes at her. His next text comes through pretty quickly. I’m on board with going out if you want, just thought something more private could be better.

And shit. There are a number of ways she could interpret that. Aelin’s trying not to read into things, things like Rowan saying he wants to go somewhere private with her, he could just be talking about paparazzi. Damn, he probably is just talking about paparazzi.

oh yeah sounds good actually but pls don’t poison me

He just sends a straight faced emoji.

Aelin leans back into her couch as he sends another follow up text.

Do you want to come here?

She could, but he hosted last time. And while she liked the atmosphere at Rowan’s house, she can’t deny that she likes the idea of him here. She likes the idea of seeing Rowan making his way around her kitchen, likes the idea of Rowan sitting opposite her at the end of this couch.

or you could come here????

She bites the corner of her nail as she stares at her screen, waiting for his response to come through.

Sure. I’ll swing by the store to grab some ingredients. How many people am I cooking for?

Aelin pauses, her thumbs hovering above the keyboard.

was thinking 2 but i can invite others if you want

She thinks that’s pretty clear, but it also puts the ball in his court. She’s the most nervous she’s been so far as she waits for his reply, and the three dots pop up before disappearing again. They pop up again, before finally his message comes through.

Don’t. His text reads. I’ll pick up enough for two.

His response is pretty clear too, and she smiles as she sends three thumbs up emojis.

Her apartment isn’t dirty, or even messy, but once she’s locked her phone she’s up and full of nervous energy. It’s probably presumptuous to make sure her bed is made, but she does it anyway. She leaves the leggings and oversized sweater she wears on, it’s casual, she’s chilled out. Or she can at least pretend to be.

She’s doing her last round of the apartment, keeping her eyes peeled for any stray socks or underwear that she could have left anywhere. A blush threatens her cheeks at the thought of Rowan and her underwear, but she forces it down when there’s a sharp knock at the door.

She swings the door open and there he is.

He looks good, as always, but today it’s highlighted by the deep green military-style jacket he has thrown on over his plain white t-shirt. The tan of his skin always looks good against bright white, and the green of his jacket draws out the depths of his green eyes.

“Hey,” she breathes as their eyes meet.

He smiles, a slightly crooked thing, and he just looks even more attractive. “Hey.”

He’s carrying a brown paper bag pressed against his side in his left hand, and she reaches out to take it from him as she steps aside to let him in. He steps in, but resists her grab for the bag, instead wrapping his right arm around her waist to pull her into a brief hug. “Thanks for having me.”

His words take her back to the first time she visited his house. The time with Fenrys and Manon and the football game. The visit with her and Rowan in his kitchen.

She’s nowhere near as stiff with him as she was then and she lets herself relax into the hug.

“I only let you in on the promise of food,” she says into his chest and feels more than hears his reluctant snort of laughter.

Every time they touch she’s struck by how much she likes it. How much she wants more. But then he pulls back, twisting to push her door shut.

“I feel like I should let you know now before we go any further that I can’t cook.”

Rowan only raises a brow.

“Seriously, when I was in college I set off the fire alarm in my residence at least three times.”

“Three times?” His eyes widen in playful disbelief. “What were you making?”

“Well,” she laughs. “The first time I was trying to make Lysandra a birthday cake but then I got distracted and left it in the oven for three hours. The fire department got called but it was not that big of a deal, there wasn’t a fire.”

There’s laughter dancing in his clear green eyes as she regales her tale of youth. She practically beams at the knowledge that she has put it there.

“But our kitchen did smell like smoke for the rest of the year.”

“That doesn’t sound like you’re bad at cooking.” Rowan tilts his head down at her and she realises they’re still standing in her entryway. “That sounds like you don’t pay attention.”

Aelin shrugs at his teasing. “The third time was the worst. I was trying to do that thing where you put vodka in pasta sauce.”

“Gods,” Rowan’s laughing now and she loves the low rumble of the sounds. It pricks the hairs on her arm as the sound washes over her skin.

“There were some flames,” she confesses and he winces.

She didn’t have a completely normal college experience, she was acting part time in very minor roles during her time there but she managed to make some memories in her short time there. After Sam she dropped out and the memories always leave a bittersweet taste in her mouth.

Talking about this with Rowan and laughing at her silly little anecdotes is one of the first times it hasn’t hurt.

“Sucks to be an actor,” he says mockingly with a nod into her apartment as she finally leads him into the kitchen. The apartment she’s staying in is fine, more than fine, it’s actually a really great apartment and she tries to fake a frown through her smile.

Aelin shrugs. “We can’t all be big, household-name directors, living in glamorous mansions, too famous to go out to eat.”

She shoots him an amused look, and Rowan just smirks, tilting his head to the side in a way that exposes the length of his throat.

So maybe this was a fucking dangerous idea.

Inviting Rowan to her apartment had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he’s here, now he’s in her space, looking all… damn him, he looks so fucking good she feels flushed.

She used to think brunettes were her type, Chaol and Sam were both brunette, with tanned skin and brown eyes. Recently though, as much as she wants to resist it, her type has pretty much become Rowan.

Rowan with his silver hair, and green eyes. His low voice with it’s lilting accent from across the sea. His skin is tanned too, but she knows it comes from spending hours outside rather than genetics.

She hasn’t thought seriously about another man since they started filming, or more likely since the moment they met in the hallway.

And if she allows herself to admit it, probably a lot earlier than that.

She shakes herself as he watches her.

Rowan smirks at her as he places the bag on the counter. “We’ll have to try not to set this kitchen on fire.”

She’s perched atop her counter, with one knee crossed over the other, as she watches Rowan unpack the items from the bag. He’s shucked off the jacket by now, and the t-shirt he wears gives her uninterrupted access to the image of his toned arms and the tattoo that swirls down his left side.

She realises a moment too late that he’s asked her a question.

“What?”

She can tell Rowan knows why she didn’t respond, she just hopes it’s not too much for him. From the smirk he wears she thinks maybe not.

“I’m trying to teach you a valuable skill, it may help to pay attention.” She flips him off and revels in the dark flash of a smile he offers. “I asked if you have a frying pan.”

Aelin pulls a face, she hasn’t done a lot of cooking here past the basics like pasta and soup. Her microwave has been a trusty companion.

“I don’t know.” She waves a hand to the cupboards that line the side of the room. “Have a look in there.”

He gives her a look that tells her he’s deciding whether or not he likes her giving him orders, but then he turns to rummage through her cupboards before returning triumphant and waving the silver frying pan in her face.

“So, what are you making for me?” she asks as he finds a chopping board and unloads the hoard of vegetables he brought with himself.

“Veggie burgers,” he states simply, and she knows she pulls a face because he laughs. “Before you complain, they’re good for you. And they’re tasty.”

She still wrinkles her nose at him, unconvinced.

He cocks his head as he pauses his rhythmic chopping of the leafy green vegetable he has on the board. She’s trying desperately hard to make eye contact and not just stare at the motion of his hands, and his arms, and the ink swirling down his skin.

“Didn’t I promise not to poison you? Do you not trust me to take care of you?” Aelin doesn’t think she’s reading into things to hear the flirty tone to his voice.

“I’ll let you know after I’ve tried the burger.”

Rowan shakes his head at her, the ghost of a smile floating across his face as he resumes his chopping. “Ye of little faith.”

Aelin just shrugs, making a show of being sceptical by turning her nose.

“You could always help,” Rowan comments. “Or do you regularly invite guests around expecting them to make you a meal?”

“Tell me what to do, chef.” Aelin holds her hands out, ready for instruction. “I am yours to instruct.”

Rowan nods and reaches back into the bag and pulls out a can, he turns to find a bowl and a fork and places them in front of her. She’s impressed that in under half an hour he knows his way around her kitchen far better than she does.

“Mash these,” he says.

Her disgust isn’t pretend this time and her lip curls. “Mash these beans?”

Rowan nods.

“Mash them?”

“Yes, you do know what that means don’t you?”

Aelin hits him with the fork on the bicep and he laughs again, the sound smooth and rich in her stomach. “Shut up. You’re not convincing me this is going to taste good.”

Even so, she opens the can and is about to tip them into the bowl when Rowan grabs her hand. His fingers are warm and solid where they wrap around her own, and she snaps her eyes to his face at the contact.

“Rinse them first. You warned me and yet I still overestimated your ability in the kitchen.”

He’s smiling slightly, exposing the whites of his teeth, and he’s so close to her face. They’re almost level where she sits on the counter and Aelin swallows. His eyes are bright as he looks at her and she feels her smile grow involuntarily. Something flickers across his face before he clears his throat and steps back letting go of her hand. She misses his touch immediately after it’s gone.

Aelin slides off the bench and turns towards the sink to compose herself, she rinses the beans under the tap and Rowan stays silent while she does.

She turns back and tips them into the bowl and begins to mash as Rowan grates a carrot. Aelin really didn’t know her flat even came with these things.

“This is actually fucking disgusting.”

She’s managed to turn the bean mixture into a grey-ish mush. There’s no way this can taste good, she’s going to struggle even putting it in her mouth without retching.

Rowan snorts. “It’s good for you.”

Aelin wrinkles her nose again, but keeps going. It speaks volumes that she’s willing to trust Rowan on this.

It feels weirdly domestic to be here with him in her kitchen, and they move with an easy kind of synchrony. He adds his chopped vegetables to the bowl and she mixes them together as he readies the pan.

“Up for getting your hands dirty?” Rowan asks her once he’s done, and hell if Aelin doesn’t read far too much into that. The answer is yes.

“Always.” Sue her if she makes sure to look up at him through her lashes, and to bend forwards towards him as she rests her forearms on the kitchen counter.

“Grab a handful of the mixture,” He points to the contents of the bowl. “And shape it into a round patty.”

Aelin goes to put her hand tentatively into the bowl, it’s now a grey-ish mush with flecks of orange and green and she’s dreading it getting under her nails.

“Wait,” Rowan says, and he reaches out to roll the sleeves of her sweater up. It’s such a sweet gesture that it kind of takes her by surprise. The gentleness with which he holds her wrist as he rolls the fabric is nice, and she finds herself watching his face as he does it.

His brows pull together, in an expression she assumes is concentration, as he makes the careful motions. He looks good, she notes, not for the first time.

His thumbs and index fingers move down to squeeze the junction where her wrists meet her hands as he finishes and says, “there you go.”

“Thanks,” she breathes.

Aelin turns back to the bowl, attempting to somehow calm her heart. Rowan really needs to stop touching her if she wants to get over whatever this is. But now that he’s here, and he’s looking at her the way he is, and specifying that he wants to spend time with her, just the two of them…

It’s the first time she allows herself to consider that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t something that’s only dangerous. She finally allows herself to consider the idea that this could be fun, this could be something she could really enjoy. And here, in her apartment just the two of them, he doesn’t have to be her boss. He’s just Rowan and she’s just Aelin.

She really likes that thought.

Rowan clicks the pan on, and the sound startles her out of her head. Aelin hesitates before finally plunging her fingers into the mush and gods, she has some faith in Rowan if she’s going to even consider eating this.

It’s gross, but she manages to shape it into two round patties, and she places them into the pan when Rowan instructs.

Aelin washes her hands as Rowan pays attention to the burgers, and she retakes her seat on the counter after sorting out their plates and condiments. She might not be a great cook, but she can be a good host.

She watches him flip them a couple of times, taking the opportunity to ogle without risk of being caught staring. He has strong arms, and the tattoo snaking down his left makes her mouth water with every flex of his muscles. He has wide hands with long, almost elegant fingers that she wants to link through her own. Aelin is reminded, as he lifts the pan, of the thought she had the other day when he was directing Manon.

It wasn’t the first time she had considered Rowan in a sexual way, but it was the most direct, and she’s not complaining, but sometimes it makes it a little difficult to concentrate in his presence.

Finally, he switches the heat off and turns to place the patties in their buns. Aelin has to admit they look a little better now that they’re cooked, but she’s still not convinced.

He presents her with the plate, wearing a bashful little smile, and she’s taken by how adorable she finds it. He’s actually nervous to hear what she thinks.

She slathers it in ketchup, hoping to make it somewhat palatable and lifts it to her lips, about to take a bite when he speaks.

“We’re eating here?”

Aelin pauses, putting the burger back on her plate. “Where else would we eat?”

Rowan shrugs, still holding his own plate. He doesn’t put any ketchup on his and she’s trying not to be disgusted. She taps the bench next to herself, and Rowan seems to deliberate for a moment before finally hopping up at her side. He towers over her again now that they’re on an even playing field and she likes it. She likes how much bigger he is than her, and likes it even more how she still feels safe with him.

“Okay, now go,” he says, still apprehensive of her reaction, and Aelin makes a big deal of taking a deep breath before her first bite.

She chews it all silently before swallowing, working to keep her expression neutral, and Rowan doesn’t look away from her face the whole time. She purses her lips afterwards, and waits for him to speak.

“So?”

“It’s not terrible,” she admits with a small smile creeping up the sides of her mouth.

Rowan quickly takes his own bite, and she watches the way his fingers dwarf the same bun that fills her hands. He hums his own pleasure.

“Not terrible,” he repeats. “Admit it, it’s good.”

She flips a strand of hair over her shoulder before she takes another bite. She was sceptical -- more than -- when it was still a mush, but she has to admit it’s tasty, and very Rowan. She doesn’t know for sure he’s a health nut, but based on the parts of his body that she’s seen and his distaste for all things sweet, she can guess.

��Maybe,” is all she says before taking another bite. He watches her with a smug smile, one she desperately wants to get rid of. It isn’t helpful that the way she wants to do so is by kissing him.

“Oh!” She jumps down from the counter, throwing her plate to the side, suddenly reminded. “You know what I have that would go perfectly with this?”

She grabs two glasses out of the cupboard and sets them down on the bench in between where she’s been sitting and Rowan. Aelin turns to the fridge before pulling out the small bottle.

Rowan groans, and she tucks the sound to the back of her mind. “Aelin,” he starts. “I don’t want any of that.”

“Come on,” she cries. “A milkshake is an essential with a burger and this is the best I have to offer. If I’d thought ahead I could have at least found a bottle of wine to go with the dinner you cooked for me.”

She’s not entirely sure why she said it, especially when she’s pretty sure she’s deduced that he doesn’t drink, and the reason for it, but it feels like an automatic apology that just slips off her tongue whenever she’s in a setting where alcohol could be a presumption.

Rowan’s expression locks down at her comment and she immediately regrets it.

“Um-” she starts but Rowan clears his throat.

“It’s okay,” he says slowly, avoiding her gaze, “I don’t drink.”

“Oh,” Aelin all but whispers, and it surprises her when Rowan lets out a dark huff of laughter. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m guessing you know why.”

His voice has a somewhat bitter edge to it that she hates.

“I wasn’t-”

She stops when he finally looks up at her and she sees his expression.

“I’m sorry,” she says again quickly and he only shakes his head and pats the counter at his side.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

There’s something in his eyes that makes her retake her seat at his side and pick her burger back up, taking a bite as he takes a breath.

“It’s not something that usually falls into casual dinner conversation.”

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

It’s something she isn’t sure she realised the importance of at first. The offer of whether to share or not. She fights a desperate war inside of herself every time conversations head down a lane like this. The desire to scream her story from the rooftops squaring off against the desperation to remain closed up where no one will ever know what bubbles just below the surface.

Usually privacy wins. Usually she swallows those words down and stays quiet, keeping this reel of pain and loss and tragedy buried deep within, but here with Rowan, tucked away in the kitchen of her temporary home, the words don’t feel so daunting.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s often something that makes other people feel uncomfortable. They pity the guy with the dead fiancée”—Aelin blinks past the way his voice wavers—“but they don’t want to actually hear about it. I’ll spare you the gorey details but after that I couldn’t bring a drink to my lips again. I’ve never so much as considered it — never wanted to.”

There’s an ache beginning in her chest, and she puts her burger back down on her plate. Rowan hasn’t touched his since his first few bites. She desperately wants to comfort him, wants to place a hand on his shoulder and take the pain away any way she can, but she knows from experience that it can’t be done.

This kind of pain, this grief, is something that can’t be taken away. She lives with her grief and her guilt after Sam every day of her life, and she thinks she will forever. No matter how many therapy sessions she goes to, no matter how many days and weeks and months pass, Sam will always be a part of her. Scrawled across her heart in his messy penmanship.

“I understand,” she says quietly. “More than you’d think.”

This is the moment where she could probably finish, where she could twist the conversation back to Rowan and pat his shoulder sympathetically, or where she could tug it to somewhere new and safe.

But she doesn’t often get opportunities like this, in the dim light and the quiet of her flat where the only other sound is the noise coming from the hood above her cooker. She doesn’t often get to talk about this with someone who truly understands.

All of her friends tried in the months after Sam, and gods bless them they still do, but none of them were as close to Sam as she was. They were upset for Aelin and her loss, not at the loss of Sam. And Rowan, who sits next to her staring at the floor, she thinks he could understand.

His gaze lifts from the floor to meet hers as she begins to speak.

“His name was Sam,” she says and Rowan nods.

“I know.”

Aelin feels her breath leave her chest in a whoosh.

“I saw some of the headlines at the time, Aelin I’m so sorry.”

Her jaw works as she tries to find the words, any words, to respond to that. But she’s shaken. She didn’t think anyone knew, or even noticed, outside of her immediate circle. But then she thinks back to the dinner they shared, the way his gaze had burned into her when the conversation had turned to her break. He knows — he has known — and he gets it.

She shakes her head, composing herself enough to speak. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

His lips twist as she repeats his words back to him.

She doesn’t mean to say, “I knew about Lyria too,” but Rowan just nods, breaking their gaze to stare down at where their hands lie beside each other with an expression she can’t read.

Aelin knows she shouldn’t, for any number of reasons, but she reaches out to twine their fingers together atop the marble of her countertop. His fingers are rough and calloused between her own but the thumb he rubs against the back of her hand is gentle and reassuring.

He doesn’t speak, but there isn’t anything Aelin feels the need to say. It’s a kindred kind of silence, one borne of more pain than either of them could bear to speak aloud, and there’s an awful feeling of comfort in it. She knows he’s thinking of Lyria the way she’s thinking of Sam. But there is a part of her mind, a part that’s like a rising sun creeping above the horizon to break the shadow of night, that’s thinking of Rowan too.

Eventually she picks her burger back up again, it’s cold now but she can reluctantly admit it doesn’t taste horrendous. Their fingers stay linked as they each eat single-handedly, building themselves back up to sharing short stories and playful quips.

She’s glad she invited him, her boss or not.

#rowaelin #throne of glass #rowaelin fic #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin au #ndilyd #nobody does it like you do

89 notes · View notes

xxdragonwriterxx · 4 years

Text

🔥A Thought For a Thought🔥

~~~

It was subtle, but (Y/N) could tell he was struggling. The young Squad Leader watched out of the corner of her eye as the newly promoted Captain Levi looked over the reports in front of him, his eyes darting back and forth over the words and his brow almost imperceptibly furrowed. She watched him as he huffed a quiet breath and turned to another report instead, his eyes scanning the page furiously, as if he were searching for the key to some great revelation.

(Y/N) knew the truth. She had never told anyone, never planned to, but thanks to the significant amount of time she spent with the surly Captain, ordered by Erwin to help him manage his workload, (Y/N) could tell. Levi couldn’t read. He had never mentioned it to anyone, had never voiced his concerns with the mountains of paperwork on his desk. He only sat alone in the late hours of the night, trying to discreetly teach himself without anyone knowing that Humanity’s Strongest Soldier was illiterate.

(Y/N) lightly nibbled on the end of her pen as she watched him, pretending to be reading the document in front of her. She was worried about him. She barely knew him other than her brief interactions with him while they worked, but she could see the weight of the stress on his shoulders, see the quick flickers of anxiety flash in his eyes every time he saw the increasing workload on his desk. It also didn’t help that the other soldiers still treated him like shit due to his background. He was a Captain now, so nobody would outright insult him, especially if they wanted to keep all of their limbs, but she knew he knew about the rumors, the whispers, the sneers as he walked past.

Many of the soldiers either hated him for his very sudden promotion or were disgusted by him because of where he came from. It made (Y/N) grit her teeth in anger. People were always so quick to judge, not even caring when his two best friends died, a few of them even insinuating that they deserved to die because of their lives in the Underground.

(Y/N) knew that not only would admitting his struggle with reading and writing make him even more of a target for condescending remarks, but also that nobody would be willing to help him. Nobody would care about a rude, violent man from the slums just because he couldn’t read.

She knew she had to do something. She had been ordered to help Levi when Erwin had noticed that nothing was being turned back in to him, but she knew it couldn’t go on like this forever. Besides, (Y/N) loved to read. She loved books more than anything, they were her escape into a different reality, a whole new world to explore with millions of characters to fall in love with. She had lived a thousand lives, died a thousand deaths, loved millions of times through books, and it made her sad that he couldn’t experience that same joy, especially since it was a great way to relieve stress, something that she knew he desperately needed.

Setting her remaining reports aside, (Y/N) stood and made her way to the Captain, catching his attention as she took a seat at his desk in the chair right across from him.

“Squad Leader (Y/N)? What do you need?” Levi asked gruffly.

(Y/N) heard his rough tone, but she thought she almost saw a flash of relief flicker in his eyes at her distraction, as he placed the reports he had been trying to tackle back on his desk in front of him. Folding his hands in his lap, he leaned back in his chair. (Y/N) took a deep breath and looked him right in the eye when she spoke.

“You can’t read, sir. Please, let me help you.”

Levi froze immediately, his whole body tensing as he glared daggers at the woman in front of him. His eyebrow raised when she did not flinch away from the dark glower that usually sent grown men running.

“I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t tell anyone, I promise, I just want to help you.”

“Why the fuck do you want to help me?” Levi asked.

“Because I can tell you’re struggling, sir, and I want you to be able to do your job effectively. Also, I love to read, and I think you’d really come to enjoy it once you learn how to do it properly.”

“What’s the catch?” Levi asked with an eyebrow raised.

“There is no catch, only that you have to work harder to save humanity by doing the reports on your desk, once you learn what’s actually on them.”

Levi contemplated her for a moment. Despite his inability to read words, he could read people pretty well, and he could tell she didn’t have any malicious intent, but he just couldn’t help but feel suspicious. He already felt a little exposed at the idea that she had discovered his secret, all on her own at that, meaning he was showing more weakness than he originally thought, but he also couldn’t deny that it was a tempting offer.

He continued to appraise her, and even though (Y/N) had the urge to turn away under his intense gaze, she held her own against him, standing tall and showing him that she had nothing to hide. When his silver eyes finally met her’s again, she could tell he was going to accept her offer, the small twinkle of hopefulness that glimmered in his eye making her heart flutter. She knew he wanted to learn, he just struggled with accepting help from others.

Finally, he nodded once, and moved his chair over slightly so she could slide up beside him and position herself at his desk. He was a little stiff, his body tense at the feeling of her being so close to him, right in the center of his personal bubble, but he eventually loosened up a bit as she gathered the reports on his desk and began teaching him the basics.

______________________________

He looked up when the door to his office opened. Not only was it late at night, past curfew for most soldiers, but (Y/N) was the only one who was allowed to come into his office without knocking, so he knew exactly who it was when he heard the squeak of the door handle.

(Y/N) came into his office facing away from him, using her back to push open the door before making her way to him holding a tray with two tea cups, a teapot, and some small cookies. His mouth watered as she came closer and he nodded at her gratefully, taking a cookie and popping it into his mouth. Usually he wasn’t a huge fan of sweets but he had learned, the more time he spent with her, that (Y/N) was an amazing baker and always made them just right for him. He hummed as the delectable taste melted on his tongue before looking down at the finished reports in front of him.

It had been a few months since (Y/N) had started teaching him how to read and write and he was already making significant progress. (Y/N) was an amazing teacher. She was always so patient with him, even when he was being moody, always encouraging him to keep trying until it finally started to click for him. She had started out with doing most of his reports for him, writing out what he wanted to say and then helping him write different sentences from the report on a separate sheet of paper, taking special care to teach him about each letter.

There were some nights where she even read to him from one of the many books she kept in her room, letting him just relax and close his eyes while laying on the couch, letting himself sink into the world of the novel and forget the problems of his real life for a couple of hours. There were other nights where she would randomly flip it on him, and have him read to her, helping him with pronunciations and challenging him with more difficult words and phrases each day.

He normally didn’t care about other people’s opinions, but something about the sincerity in her voice, the light in her eyes when she complimented him; it made him feel so special. On top of everything, she had kept her word and refused to tell a soul, even leaving his secret out of her reports to Erwin each time. He could tell in the way that nobody treated him with more malice than usual, something he was immensely grateful for.

He had to keep from smiling as he thought about her, his grey eyes appraising her as she sat down on the couch with her small bag, her eyes focused on the contents inside while she dug through it, looking for her supplies.

“What’s on the schedule for today, (Y/N)?” Levi asked, moving his reports to the side.

(Y/N) looked back at him and smiled, her eyes glimmering with mischief in a way that had him narrowing his gaze at her.

“Oi, brat, what was that look for?”

“Oh, nothing,” (Y/N) replied cheekily, making Levi grumble to himself while he waited impatiently for her to finish organizing her things.

“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“It’s nothing bad.”

“I don’t believe you.”

(Y/N) snickered at Levi’s blunt remark, reaching for a notebook, a sheet of paper, and a pen from the pile of things she had brought with her. (Y/N) ignored Levi’s grimace of disgust at the mess of things she left on the couch and approached his desk.

“Today, Levi, we are going to be practicing cursive. You will need it for writing letters to the nobles, merchants, and any other groups of people who are associated with the nobility. They will be much more likely to reject requests or ignore your message if it doesn’t look neat and curvy,” (Y/N) said, rolling her eyes in disdain for the nobles and their stupid rules.

Levi scoffed but did not argue. (Y/N) knew he was just reacting to the nobles, his disgust surrounding them carrying over from his days in the Underground. Opening the notebook, (Y/N) flipped to the page where she had spent hours meticulously writing out each individual cursive letter as clearly as possible for Levi to use as a learning tool. Moving around the desk, (Y/N) turned the notebook around for him to see and started by teaching him each individual letter, just as she had done when teaching him normal lettering and spelling.

Levi got a little frustrated with some of the more difficult letters, their shapes and curves making it difficult for him to make them smooth and neat, but he was catching on quickly, taking (Y/N)’s lessons and rolling with them.

When he was finally ready, (Y/N) flipped to a different page in her notebook where she had written out sentences for him to practice, reaching over to grab the blank sheet of paper for him to work on and handing him the pen she had brought.

(Y/N) stood from his desk with a stretch, claiming she had to deliver the stack of finished reports on Levi’s desk to Erwin before the Commander turned in for the night, grabbing the stack and making her way to the door.

“I want you to copy down those sentences until you fill up that entire page, front and back, okay Levi? I’ll check your work when I get back,” (Y/N) threw over her shoulder before closing the door behind her.

Levi, meanwhile, was a little stunned, his face flushing a bit.

“(Y/N) is smarter than Levi.”

“(Y/N) is more attractive than Levi.”

“(Y/N) is stronger than Levi.”

“(Y/N) is a better Squad Leader than Levi.”

Levi stared at the page for a moment before bursting into laughter. It wasn’t a loud laugh, but it was a laugh nonetheless, the quiet sound filling the empty office as he read each sentence again. Levi shook his head at her antics, smiling despite himself as he got right to work.

______________________________

By the time (Y/N) came back into the room, he had filled almost the entire page, his letters getting more elegant with each sentence. He nodded at her when she came in, one that she returned in kind, before he bent back down to finish his assignment. (Y/N) picked up the book she brought with her and read a few pages on the couch while she waited for him to finish, the sound of his pen scratching against the page; the only sound in the small office.

“Done,” Levi said gruffly after a short while, prompting (Y/N) to close her book and walk over to him, a smile teasing at the corners of her lips.

“Let me see what you did,” (Y/N) said, holding her hand out.

Levi handed her the page with a huff, muttering something about her being a pain in his ass. (Y/N) chuckled, knowing he didn’t mean it before looking at the page he had handed her.

“HEY!” (Y/N) shouted suddenly, throwing a glare at the raven-haired man.

“What is it?” Levi asked innocently.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Levi, you know exactly what it is!” (Y/N) said with a playful pout, glaring at the glimmer in eyes.

“I won’t know ‘what it is’ if you don’t tell me, brat,” Levi said with a smirk.

“You wrote all of the sentences backwards!” (Y/N) said, turning the page around for him to see.

“Levi is smarter than (Y/N).”

“Levi is more attractive than (Y/N).”

“Levi is stronger than (Y/N).”

“Levi is a better Squad Leader than (Y/N).”

At the bottom of the page, Levi had even written in beautiful cursive:

“(Y/N) is a pain in my ass.”

(Y/N) glared at Levi again when he pretended to analyze the page, his brows furrowing.

“I am so sorry (Y/N), I guess I just read your example sentences wrong. You know how I struggle with reading, especially with this new fancy lettering, my eyes must have just rearranged the words without me knowing. I was wondering why you were so enamored with me when I read it the first time,” Levi said in a monotone voice, keeping the smirk that was straining to ride across his face from showing itself.

(Y/N) huffed and placed both hands on her hips, tilting her head in exasperation despite the twitching of her lips as she tried to keep her features straight.

“Sure you did,” (Y/N) said, sarcasm dripping from her words before she finally caved, letting a bright smile flash across her lips.

Levi’s breath caught at the sight of that beaming smile, but he shoved down the feeling that rose in his throat. Shaking his head, Levi allowed himself to give up the title of Captain for a moment, and let his own lips curve into a smile.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully, ignoring her fluttering heart, before moving back to her chair and pulling out a new sheet of paper, directing him to write the sentences correctly this time.

“I’m pretty sure this is emotional abuse,” Levi deadpanned, earning him a light slap on the arm from the back of her hand.

“It is not!”

“Really? Because I think my feelings are hurt now.”

“Oh for god sakes…”

The two bantered back and forth while they worked until the moon was starting to sink below the horizon, the night sky turning from black to a navy blue. Standing up with a yawn and a stretch, (Y/N) gathered her things and made her way to the door.

“Goodnight Captain, see you tomorrow,” (Y/N) said with a wink and a smile, closing the door gently behind her.

Levi let out a grunt of annoyance but couldn’t deny the warm feeling that was heating his heart and making his nerves tingle as he stared at the door she had just disappeared through, the page of sentences about them still clutched in his palm.

________________________

Levi knew it was his idea to keep everything a secret, knew it was him who told (Y/N) to act professional around him when they weren’t in the safety of his office late at night, but now, as the meeting he was in dragged on forever, Levi felt as if he would give anything to be able to participate in their normal banter, her good sense of humor and sweet voice always turning his bad days around. He hated to admit it, but he was starting to regret making everything secret. He found himself wanting to sit next to her when they ate in the Mess Hall, wanting to spar with her during training, wanting to invite her on a horseback ride around the base.

He shook his head to redirect his train of thought, trying to force himself to focus on the map Erwin was going over for the next mission. He trained his gaze on Erwin’s finger, watching as the giant blonde traced a trail on the map, explaining where each squad was going to be located. But his mind kept straying, against his will, to the woman sitting beside him. He had the urge to brush his shoulder against hers like he sometimes did during their midnight sessions. He then had the worse urge to place his hand on her thigh, to run his fingers along her covered flesh and trace random patterns on her pant leg.

Levi blinked a few times, desperately trying to get himself out of this rut before he did something stupid like act on said urges. He knew (Y/N) probably wouldn’t even react if he touched her leg, maybe a confused look in his direction, or maybe even the light flushing of her cheeks, but it was the other people in the meeting he was worried about. He knew that for them, if he did something like that, it would be completely uncalled for.

He was starting to get really frustrated with himself, his thoughts caving in on themselves no matter how hard he tried to redirect his focus on the meeting. He wanted nothing more than for it to be the middle of the night, back in the safety of his office with (Y/N) by his side, laughing with him and making him feel more human than he had ever felt, and his heart knew that; was using it against him.

Suddenly, all of his senses narrowed to the feeling of something lightly brushing his own thigh. Glancing down as subtly as possible, Levi’s eyes widened as he saw (Y/N)’s hand resting lightly against his leg, a small piece of paper held in between her thumb and pointer finger. Levi was careful not to draw attention to himself as he reached down and took the paper from her, trying to ignore the cold feeling that washed over his body when she drew her hand back.

Pretending to read the notes in front of him, Levi opened the piece of paper, making sure nobody was watching him with quick glances around the room. Luckily, everyone around him was focused on the map Erwin was using, which gave him enough time to glance down at the tiny piece of paper.

“Why don’t we do some reading and writing practice since you’re obviously so entertained by this meeting? What are you thinking about?”

Levi fought the urge to snort and grabbed his pen, subtly writing his own note and passing it back in the same way she did for him.

“Why the hell should I tell you?”

He saw (Y/N) smile out of the corner of his eye and his lips twitched. (Y/N) stashed the note in her pocket and picked up her own pen to write another.

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking if you tell me. A thought for a thought.”

Levi wrote back.

“Will it be worth it?”

“I guess you will just have to find out.”

Levi really fought back a smirk that time and was quick to write back a response, glancing up every so often to make sure nobody was watching them. This was a dance between the two of them, no spectators needed.

“Fine. I’m thinking that this meeting is stupid and I want to go back to my office.”

(Y/N) smiled when she read his note.

“What else?”

“What do you mean, ‘what else’? That’s what I was thinking.”

“Levi…”

“God damn it, fine! I was thinking that I wish we could talk outside of my office.”

Levi watched nervously as (Y/N)’s brow furrowed when she read his note, her reply slower in its delivery this time.

“Why would you want to talk to me?”

Levi frowned.

“I’m not answering that. It’s well past my turn. It’s your turn now, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that Erwin has large bushy eyebrows.”

Levi raised an eyebrow at her note before responding.

“That’s stupid.”

“It’s what I was thinking! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this was the award for the most philosophical train of thought ceremony.”

Levi had to stop himself from chuckling at that one, resulting in a low coughing sound that made Erwin pause.

“Levi, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine Erwin, just a cough, proceed.”

Erwin watched Levi for a second before shrugging his shoulders and going back to the plans in front of him, moving on from talking about the route to the battle tactics they were going to have to use on the mission. Levi had to refrain from rolling his eyes as he heard Erwin talk. Levi already knew all of this, this meeting was nothing more than a waste of time.

A light tap on his thigh reminded him of their previous little game before Erwin interrupted, and Levi quickly moved to write her back.

“It’s not, brat. But I know you better than that, what were you really thinking?”

“Alright, alright, I’m thinking that you’re right, this meeting is boring, and I wish I could talk to you outside of your office too.”

“Why would you want to talk to me?”

Levi subtly smiled at her when she flashed him a glare at the mocking message on the note she had gotten from him.

“Because despite your main personality facet being dickhead, you actually can be less of an asshole sometimes. Sometimes I even kind of like you.”

“Like me? Are you feeling alright, (Y/N)? Maybe I should take you to the infirmary…”

“I know right? Something must be wrong with me.”

“Alright, that concludes today’s meeting. Remember to prepare yourselves, all of our missions are difficult, but this one could be devastating if we aren’t careful,” Erwin said, bringing (Y/N) and Levi out of their own world and back into the meeting.

“Yes sir!” the collective voices of the soldiers in the room rang out, each one saluting the Commander before filing out.

Levi looked at the Commander for a minute while he saluted him, his eyes narrowing on his face. When they had been dismissed, Levi turned and, when he was sure nobody was watching, leaned down to whisper in (Y/N)’s ear.

“You’re right, Erwin does have bushy eyebrows.”

________________________________

After that meeting in Erwin’s office, (Y/N) and Levi couldn’t stop the game they had started. The pair would find any excuse to meet each other and exchange notes, sometimes hiding them in the most ridiculous places for the other to find.

Levi found one stashed under his tea cup in the cupboard when he went to brew himself some of the calming brew one morning. (Y/N) found one rolled up and hidden neatly in between the cogs of her ODM gear. It was a dance, a game that the two of them shared, both of them entertaining the other with conversations about nothing and everything. They found it was the perfect way to further solidify their surprisingly strong friendship without everyone else asking questions about why they were so close in the first place, Levi still wanting to keep his past illiteracy a secret.

Good morning, Levi! Thought for a thought: I am thinking that you are an ass for making us work so hard yesterday during training. I’m pretty sure my legs are useless now, gone forever. Maybe as punishment I should make you practice writing love letters to every female cadet in the Survey Corps. Have a good day!

~(Y/N)

Levi chuckled as he read the note he had found tucked up in the nameplate on his door that morning, immediately moving back into his office to write her back.

Morning (Y/N). Thought for a thought: You’re a drama queen. Do you want to survive in this world or not? If your legs are gone, they will come back. Also, if you make me write love letters to the women of the Corps, I will end you. Have a good day yourself.

~Levi

Levi pocketed the note and left his office to start the day, eager to hide the note in (Y/N)’s coffee tin.

____________________________

(Y/N) smiled as she read Levi’s note, her eyes sparkling with mirth. It was just so him. She could almost hear him telling her that he was going to end her in person, his eyes narrowed and his brow creased in annoyance at the thought of writing love letters. It made (Y/N) giggle lightly, waving off her friends when they gave her confused looks.

Thought for a thought: Good point. I guess I would rather have sore legs than death. It was kind of a toss up at first, didn’t really know which one I’d prefer, but I guess you’re right. All kidding aside though, that mission is coming up tomorrow, are you doing okay? I don’t want to stress you out, so maybe we shouldn’t do our reading session tonight? We both need to get some rest and the last thing I want is for you to be distracted. Take care of yourself and please don’t die tomorrow.

~(Y/N)

(Y/N) put the note in her pocket and rejoined her friends, who were waving at her to follow them to the training grounds for one last field test of the ODM gear. (Y/N) touched the note in her pocket, figuring she could put it in one of Levi’s sword slots on his gear set. She felt surprisingly sad at the thought of not being able to spend the night hanging out with Levi, but she knew he needed to focus. He was important, not just to the Corps but to her. The surly Captain had definitely grown on her ever since she had been assigned by Erwin to help him with his paperwork, especially since she started teaching him how to read and write. She just wanted to keep him safe.

She would easily consider him to be her closest friend, the one who knew the most about her, her tongue becoming magically loose when she was around him. But he had never judged her, never told a soul any of what she said, always just listening silently, his entire attention focused on her. She sighed and touched the paper in her pocket again, reminding herself that even though he was the strongest person she knew, he was also still human and needed to be protected at all costs.

Raising her head up, (Y/N) set her face in determination and slipped the note into his gear as she put her own equipment on, readying herself for her final flight test within the safety of the walls before she was exposed to the hell of the world in the morning.

____________________________

Levi had felt his heart sink when he read (Y/N)’s note. He knew she was right, they both needed rest and staying up until the early hours of the morning, reading to each other, was not the best way to go about that, but it still made him upset.

The two of them had developed a routine. She came to his office every night after the curfew of the soldiers. What had started out as a secret way for Levi to learn how to read had morphed into a time when the both of them could just be themselves. It was the only time where Levi allowed himself to smile, to laugh, to crack jokes and to act playful. He loved how (Y/N) made him feel genuinely human, not Humanity’s Strongest, not Captain Levi of the Survey Corps, just Levi.

He loved how she called him names without worrying about being punished. He loved how she teased him and challenged him in ways no other person ever had, aside from Isabel maybe. But even then, the sweet, energetic redhead had seen him as more of a brother rather than a friend, and hadn’t treated him in the same way (Y/N) did. The way they interacted was different than any other friendship Levi had ever had.

Sighing, Levi wrote (Y/N) back saying that he agreed with her, and placed the note on the bar of her left stirrup on her saddle. Once he was sure the note was in a place nobody else would see, Levi left the stable where he had been taking care of his horse and headed back to his office, readying himself for his last night in the safety of the walls.

___________________________

Levi tossed and turned in his bed, one leg under the covers and one leg out, his body both too hot and too cold as he tried fruitlessly to get comfortable. He was normally prone to insomnia, but this was one of the worst episodes he’d ever had. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew why.

An image of (Y/N) flashed across his mind and he growled in frustration. She had to be fast asleep by now, there was no point in even entertaining the idea of seeing her. He just needed to get a grip on himself and go the fuck to sleep. He had never had a problem with sleeping by himself before, he could do this. Just because he hadn’t spent a couple of hours hanging out with (Y/N) didn’t mean anything. He could do this.

Levi took deep breaths, trying to force himself to relax. He closed his eyes and rolled over, moving his hands and legs into different positions, trying anything to fall asleep. When all of his attempts failed, he was just about ready to bite the bullet and start getting ready for the very long day ahead of him when he heard the sound of his door being opened very quietly.

Levi looked over, his eyes narrowed, ready to tear someone a new asshole when he froze. Standing in the doorway, shuffling her feet nervously, was (Y/N). Levi felt like he could’ve cried in relief, her presence already soothing him, but he forced himself to focus. Something was clearly wrong.

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Levi asked, sitting up and motioning for her to come over to him.

(Y/N) hesitated but eventually walked over to him. She swallowed hard, her head hanging down.

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” Levi asked as gently as he could, wincing a little at his rough voice.

When she still didn’t respond, Levi felt a little panicked, but managed to pull himself together.

“Thought for a thought?” Levi asked.

(Y/N) looked up and he smiled for her, trying to reassure her.

“What are you thinking about, (Y/N)?”

“I’m thinking I am being selfish.”

“How are you selfish?”

(Y/N) glared at him weakly. “Your turn first.”

“Oh yeah,” Levi said in a low voice that sent involuntary shivers down her spine. “I’m thinking I am worried about you. Now, why do you think you’re selfish?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath and swallowed again before answering. Levi waited patiently. He was an anxious mess on the inside, wanting to know what she was going to say, but he knew that if he rushed her that he would risk chasing her away, and he definitely did not want that.

“I am selfish because I care about you and I want you to be safe. I am selfish because I know you need this rest to do well tomorrow but I can’t stay away from you. I am selfish because I want to be near you all the time and I am tired of the hiding. I want to be nice to you even when we aren’t alone. I want to joke around with you and laugh with you and smile at you and not have it be weird. I am selfish because I want all of that even though I know that doing so would humiliate you, that it would reveal your secret of having trouble with reading and writing, that it would just cause more problems for you.” (Y/N) closed her eyes and clenched her fists at her sides. “I’m sorry, Levi.”

“What the hell are you sorry for?” Levi asked incredulously.

“I’m sorry for ruining what we had with my stupid feelings.”

“Do you know what I’m thinking, (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) shook her head.

“I’m thinking you’re an idiot. You’re not selfish, never have been. All you have ever done for me is help me, even when nobody else cared. You were always the first, the first to care, the first to be my friend, the first to make me genuinely laugh, the first to make me feel like I am worth something. You are not selfish. I want those things too, (Y/N). You have no idea how many times I’ve just wanted to crack a joke in front of everyone and listen to your laughter fill the hall.”

(Y/N) peeked at him from behind her (h/c) hair, her (e/c) eyes shining with tears.

“Did you know that this whole time I have been unable to sleep because we didn’t spend time together this evening like we always do? This night has been fucking miserable without you. Your feelings about this, about everything, are not one sided.”

(Y/N) looked up then, moving her hair out of her face and wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, a watery smile running across her face.

“Do you know what I am thinking, Levi?” (Y/N) asked.

Levi shook his head.

“I am thinking that I want you to hold me, if you’re comfortable.”

Levi didn’t respond, he just held his arms out for her. (Y/N)’s smile widened and she slowly sank into his embrace, following him as he laid down, his arms holding her against him so they were facing away from each other, her back curled up against his chest.

“Do you know what I am thinking, (Y/N)?”

“No.”

“I like this. I am thinking that I like holding you and I already know I will love being held by you. How do you feel about it?”

“I’m thinking that I love being in your embrace too, Levi. I feel so warm and safe right now, like I can’t be harmed,” (Y/N) said.

Levi tightened his grip around her, burying his face into the back of her neck, reveling in the warm feeling of her pulse and the sweet smell of her shampoo.

“Thought for a thought?” Levi whispered softly after a moment of silence, his eyes closed so that his eyelashes lightly tickled the back of (Y/N)’s neck.

“Go ahead,” (Y/N) said.

“I’m thinking…, that I love you,” Levi said shakily, his heart clenching nervously at her gasp. “I’m thinking that I’ve felt this way for a while but I never understood it. I’m thinking that I have a hard time with words but that you needed to hear this, and for you, I’d do anything. I’m thinking that you take my b-breath away. I’m thinking that I wish I knew how to say more, what to say to make you feel good, but that I can’t other than to say that I l-love you with every shitty inch of my being.”

(Y/N) turned around in his embrace, his arms loosening around her just enough to allow her to move. Levi felt the anxiety attacking his heart, his nerves fraying at the seams as he scanned her tear-streaked face, searching for any sign that he had just fucked everything up.

Levi was surprised instead by a passionate kiss, her warm lips nearly attacking his in her desperation. Levi choked out a chuckle that devolved into a groan as he kissed back hungrily, his arms tightening around her once more. When they broke apart, they were both panting, (Y/N)’s eyes sparkling with love as she met his intense silver stare.

“I’m thinking that I love you too, Levi. I’m thinking that my only regret is that I didn’t tell you sooner, that I missed out on this feeling for longer than I would have. Other than that, I am thinking I am now the luckiest girl in the world. You are amazing, and special, and important in so many ways. Not just because of your title as Humanity’s Strongest, but also because of you as a person. I love you, Levi, so much.”

Levi pulled her back up for another kiss, this one as equally passionate as before, but more gentle, his lips moving over hers in a sweet yet firm caress, making her nerves tingle and her heart light on fire. Holding her close, Levi wrapped himself around (Y/N) completely, resting his chin on top of her head as she buried her face in his chest.

“Take care of yourself, brat. Please, don’t die tomorrow. I can’t lose you,” Levi mumbled.

“You will never lose me, Levi, that, I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I didn’t.”

Levi looked down at her one more time, his eyes scanning the determination in her gaze before giving her a light peck on the forehead.

“Good, because I’m going to need someone to keep bossing me around and calling me an idiot.”

(Y/N) flicked his shoulder in tired retaliation and Levi smiled as he felt her own grin against his skin.

“Someone has to keep you in line.”

“Thank gods, it’s you,” Levi said, hiding his grin by pressing his face into her hair, her warm body and sweet scent allowing him to drift off to sleep, the two new lovers enjoying their calm moment of peace together before they would be sent off into hell in the morning.

930 notes · View notes

amesstm · 3 years

Text

Nose Bleeds: Part 1

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

Word Cout: 1692

A/N: sorry for taking a week off! I was drowned with schoolwork and then did some college visits. I’ll try to keep up with my set schedule! Also, this is my first Haikyuu story because it has taken over my life. Plus, thank you to whomever made the gif!

“Got it!” You exclaimed as you dug the volleyball towards your setter.

“Good Y/L/N!” Your friends cheered. The set ended with another point for your team.

Your team crowded towards the center of your side of the court. Amongst the trees known as your teammates, you looked like a shrub in comparison. Of course, your short stature was an advantage since you were the libero but it was always funny seeing as you only made it up to their shoulders or chests.

After bowing to the opposing team, your friend Tendo rushed to congratulate you. He swept you off of your feet – which wasn’t very difficult – and swung you around like a doll. “You did amazing, Y/N!”

You giggled as he set you down, “Thank you Tendo. But I could still use some work.”

Tendo grinned mischievously and wiggled his eyebrows, “I think I know how you can solve that.”

“No!” You whispered harshly. “I won’t take you up on that idea!”

“Please?” He whined, clutching onto your cheeks like you were a puppy. “I think it’d be a good chance for you two to get closer. There’s only so much time before we all graduate.”

You sighed, “I know, but I can’t even be around him! I’m as good as a rock when I try to talk to him.”

“Well, he’s more or less a rock in general,” Tendo acknowledged with a shrug. “Why not just one practice with Miracle Boy?”

You bit your lip and avoided looking at Tendo’s convincing smile. If he could control you like a Sim, you were sure your romance levels with Ushijima would be off the charts.

Of course, you wanted to get closer to Ushijima in the last months you had before you inevitably went your separate ways, but again – there were only a few months left. The boy seemed as dense as ever, never having understood what you tried to say to him in the first place. Then again, it might’ve been because you were incredibly flustered.

But, if you had only a few months left, why not enjoy it?

You sighed in defeat, “Okay, I’ll try one practice.”

“Finally!” Tendo jumped into the air from sheer excitement. “You’ll redeem yourself from the last time you tried to talk to him.”

A groan escaped your mouth, “Please don’t ever mention that again.”

Obviously, Tendo would always mention it. He would never forget when you tried to ask the tall boy if he could sit lower so you could see the board during class. Before you mustered the confidence, you could only rely on hearing the teacher to take notes. Even Ushijima’s broad shoulders prevented you from looking around him.

So, you finally tried asking him. By asking, you meant getting so shy that you were a whispering mess. In the end, you failed and had to ask to be moved up front. So much for being able to admire Ushijima’s back muscles.

“If you two get married, I’ll have a whole presentation of all the times you were shy around him,” Tendo teased.

“Do you want me to smack you on the head?” You threatened.

He smirked, “Can you reach?”

How did you let Tendo convince you to do this? Did he secretly enjoy your suffering? You saw Ushijima walking to the gym for volleyball practice, as usual. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, urging you to beat them down. Breathe in and out. Inhale. Exhale.

Okay, you got this.

You stepped towards Ushijima, who noticed you immediately. His olive eyes peered down at you, looking curious. No doubt, he thought you were looking for Tendo. He was about to open his mouth to ask, but you beat him to speak first.

“Hi Ushijima. I know we don’t speak much, but would you mind practicing with me?” You asked as calmly as possible. Yet inside, your heart was pounding wildly.

He only blinked, so you elaborated. “I want to work more on my defense so I’d really appreciate if you would serve for me.”

“Why practice with me?” His baritone voice rippled. You were suddenly reminded of your thoughts about what it’d be like to rest your head on his chest. The thought made you blush and widen your eyes. Surely, you must’ve looked like a deer in headlights.

So, you faltered slightly. “W-well, I wanted to be able to practice with someone outside of my team.”

“Is Tendo not willing?” Ushijima asked, surprised that you two wouldn’t practice together first. He always saw you two attached at the hip. If Ushijima didn’t know that Tendo only saw Y/N as a friend, he would’ve mistaken them for a couple. Except for the fact that Tendo treats you like a little sister regarding your height.

You rubbed the back of your neck with a soft laugh, “I think Tendo would distract me more than anything.”

Ushijima resisted the urge to smile. Instead, the prodigy nodded with understanding, “Then we’ll practice tomorrow.”

For the first time, Tendo saw Ushijima smiling for no reason. It wasn’t one of his forced smiles when someone asked if he could ever smile. Those smiles were terrifying. However, this smile was different. Tendo had a gut-feeling that he knew why, but he would love to hear the reason.

“Hm, is there a special reason why you’re smiling?” Tendo teased, winking at his friend. He leaned over towards Ushijima with sparkles twinkling in his eyes.

Ushijima’s mouth returned to his firm line, secretly embarrassed at being caught. “Why do you want to know?”

“Is it because of Y/N?” Tendo asked in a whisper, using his hand so only Ushijima can hear.

Y/N and Ushijima didn’t know, but Tendo has been acting as Cupid ever since he found out they liked each other. For Ushijima, Tendo noticed the quiet boy looking at her more than anyone else, even with all his admirers. For you, it was because you couldn’t talk to him at all despite your radiating confidence. Of course, he was right. When was Tendo’s intuition ever wrong?

“I’m surprised that she asked me instead of you,” Ushijima muttered.

“Hm?”

“I thought I scared her.”

Perhaps all the times you were unable to speak to him was interpreted incorrectly on Ushijima’s end. It would make sense, given that he was intimidating for most people in the first place. It was even worse looking at the two interact. To anyone it would seem like he was scaring you.

Tendo sighed before he giggled, “It’s in a good way. Trust me.”

“Being scary is a bad thing,” Ushijima said with a hint of confusion in his voice.

His friend sighed and clasped his face, “What will I do with you?”

For you, tomorrow came too soon. Your nerves made you arrive earlier than necessary – 20 minutes early to be exact. You wanted to warm up a bit beforehand, just so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of him.

You tied your hair up and put on your knee and elbow pads. Then, you decided to stretch out your legs. Spreading your feet out to match shoulder length, you sighed as you pushed yourself towards the ground. Luckily, you seemed to have the flexibility of a gymnast so you easily touched the floor.

“You’re here early,” a deep voice rumbled behind you. You look through your legs to see Ushijima. His eyes quickly averted from the position you were in.

You unraveled yourself, maintaining eye contact with him. As much as you could anyways, without combusting on the spot. “Yeah, I just wanted to stretch.”

He grunted, “We’ll start in a moment then.”

For a second, you watched him set down his belongings. The apples of his cheeks reddened slightly as he gulped. You raised an eyebrow, and then died a little inside when you realized why.

A few minutes of silence passed, until Ushijima called you to attention. He stood at the opposite end of the court, ready to serve. The absolute focus in his eyes ignited a sense of admiration within you. He smacked the ball in front of him, before looking ready.

You nodded. Not a second later, you were making contact with a ball he served. You’ve seen him serve before. A gunshot would ring out in the court, with the ball only making an appearance after it landed on the opponent’s side. Yet you were able to connect with the ball. However, it felt like he was serving directly at you.

He made another deadly serve. Once more, you were able to dig the ball. Another.

“Hey,” you yelled across to the other side. “Are you just going to serve towards me or make me work for it?”

If you were closer to him, you would’ve been able to see a small smile form on his face. Instead, all you saw was a nod and heard a grunt. He served towards the middle this time. You sprinted towards it and took a roll to get it. Finally, you were able to feel out of breath and sweaty.

“Again!” You smiled like a maniac.

Another ball went towards the back corner. You were fully in control of your side of the court. Ushijima made sure you were light on your feet by purposefully making the ball hit the net before slowly falling on your side. After an hour, you felt a bit fatigued by running across the floor.

Perhaps that’s why you didn’t notice the ball coming right at your head. You fell to the ground, feeling like you just got hit by a car. Afterall, sometimes spikes can be over 100 km/her. You groaned, the lights on the ceiling blurring. The dulled sound of long, quick strides towards you overwhelmed your ears despite the ringing in your head.

“Y/N, your nose is bleeding. I’ll find a tissue and then we’re taking you to the nurse.”

You couldn’t respond, except with a groan. He muttered something about not being able to find any. Ushijima returned to your side, taking off his shirt. Luckily, your vision was returning. Then, your nose started bleeding more.

“Is this heaven?” You asked, dazed.

#ushiwaka #ushijima x y/n #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyu x reader #haikyū!!#haiku #haikyuu!!#tendou satori #haikyuu tendou

223 notes · View notes

simplysummers · 3 years

Text

Breaking down Hunter and Omega’s relationship: pt 4.

Hi everybody. My biggest apologies for the delay on this series over the past two weeks, I’ve had a lot of medical issues going on, alongside a big decision in my life I had to make before the end of September taking precedence. However, with a little more time on my hands and a new team of proof readers behind me, I’m hoping to be back on track soon enough! I hope you enjoy my analysis of ‘Cornered’, and please always feel free to reply/reblog/send an ask with your opinions and discussions! I love to hear and reply to them! 💛

(Pasted paragraphs: I would just like to add a disclaimer here. I am, in no way whatsoever, slating the other batchers for having differing relationships with Omega. I absolutely adore everything single one of the boys, and I think they all have wonderful and unique interrelations with her. Although I may point out these different approaches in comparison to Hunter’s, I am not stating these engages are wrong, just different is all!

I’m going to separate this into a little series- covering each episode in a separate post, which I’ll have tagged as the series progresses. Once I’ve tackled these two, as they’re my favourites, I’m going to move on to each individual Batcher and perhaps a few other dynamics such and Hunter and Crosshair, or Wrecker and Omega! Let me know what you guys would like to see!)

(Thank you to this weeks proof-reader: @very-depressing-waffel 💛)

Cornered: S1/E4

Although minimal, I absolutely love the small interaction between these two in the opening scene of this episode. While it would make sense for Hunter to take the chair, as he is navigating co-ordinates, instead he allows Omega to sit down and rest, the pure affection between them is particularly radiant in these moments. I’d also like to note that it is Hunter’s order to originally send them to Idaflor, where we can only assume he is heeding Cut’s previous advice given on the subject of ‘disappearing to start a new life’. By connotation, this essentially means Hunter was extremely ready to settle down with his brothers and both raise and protect his newly found little one. However this clearly becomes an evident concern of Hunter’s as Omega begins to whine, claiming she desperately wants to explore the galaxy instead of hiding away on an uninhabited planet. Although appreciating her enthusiasm, he insists they cannot risk it, not right now, showing he has all further plans to take her to see the universe whenever it may be safe to do so. Her safety has become his priority.

Also, another little mimic on Omega’s part is mentioned after Tech’s evaluates their situation- “Well, Pantora it is.” “Pantora it is :)”. This angel, she steals my heart.

Moving on slightly to the arrival of Pantora, Hunter’s civvies and Omega carrying his backpack for him, which is as big as her little torso might I add, makes the world spin. Notice too how her eyes never leave him for a moment, it’s a typical child trait when wanting to catch an adult’s attention for good behaviour. After Wrecker mentions the implications of sightseeing, which ultimately peaks Omega’s interest, Hunter is quick to diffuse the situation by insisting this is only a quick supply run. I strongly believe this is because although he intends to take Omega into the city with him, most likely recognising her desperation to explore, his main intention is to keep her safe and protected, I personally spy a compromise here. Finally, regarding this little interaction, when inviting Omega to join them, he calls her ‘Mega, ‘MEGA!!! Hunter is the first member of the batch to nickname her affectionately, and her little excited cheer in response says it all!

When strolling through the busy marketplace, I noticed that alongside drinking up all sights she can set her eyes on, Omega continues to perform the aforementioned ‘smile at parent because I am both well behaved and very excited’ technique, breaking away from her awestruck staring to give Hunter a cute grin, which he affectionately returns under the realisation that her purity and innocence has erupted through something as simple as a marketplace, another endearing trait his charge has displayed. I’d also like to shed light on the protective hand-on-shoulder movement Hunter uses after the squad of troopers pass by him, Omega, and Echo. His wary stare and protectiveness is an extreme diversion from his usual headstrong attitude, which we know is correlated to his need to protect his charge. (Hand-on-shoulder, AGAIN. Comforting Dad alert!!)

When offering to trade with the Gran merchant, I noticed that whenever Omega picked up a new item to inspect or show off to Echo, Hunter glances over his shoulder to observe her. I have reason to believe he might not only be watching her explore, but keeping an eye on her after the incident on Cut’s farm. I can practically see Suu’s words of advice ringing in his ears, and he wants to make sure she stays out of trouble. And after she does inevitably knock something over, although he scowls a little in her direction (as any parent would), Hunter swiftly turns his look of annoyance towards the Gran as he begins to scold Omega, once again showing his protectiveness in her regard, and in all honesty, he has every right to respond this way, we’ve already established this salesman is stubborn and conceited.

The entire plot of this episode is centred around Omega’s inevitable separation from Hunter and Echo as she ends up running off to chase a voorpak, who has stolen her new doll. We cannot fault Omega for her behaviour, it was a little juvenile at most, but we must take into account this would be her first time in such a situation, and she has never been taught otherwise. Hunter’s immediate faltering smile as he realises Omega is missing is honestly gut wrenching. He has just received 3,000 credits, a hefty sum for what they’re in need of, and now he’s lost his ward, and the pain and concern is fully mirrored through his halting eyes.

I’m moving ahead slightly to add a little character-action comparison! Now, this may just be me nitpicking, and I mean no hate to Fennec Shand (I actually ADORE her), but did anybody else notice the difference between her hold on Omega and how Hunter holds her? Fennec’s fingers lay beneath the nape of Omega’s neck, almost curling into her tunic’s collar, and so while it may seem protective, it actually holds very possessive and controlling connotations. Whereas when Hunter places a hand to Omega’s shoulder, his fingers are quite loose, and it only ever rests up her upper shoulder, allowing the girl freedom if she so much as wishes it. It’s extremely docile. Furthermore, I wanted to briefly comment on Hunter’s tenderness when retrieving Omega’s new doll, most likely using it to track her recent movement. His hold is very gentle, considering he is now clinging to the last piece of Omega he has contact with, and a noticeable shred of panic holds his upper body rigid for good measure. It’s very nicely animated.

Coming ahead swiftly to the brief ‘positive’ interaction between Omega and Fennec, I haven’t seen this mentioned before but I personally see the discussion concerning the need for protection when travelling the galaxy as a small nod to Omega’s newly found connection to the boys, and Hunter specifically. Omega insists it’s a good thing she has her ‘friends’. Noticeably, she is still very hesitant to label them as her brothers, as she most likely feels excluded to an extent (bearing in mind the boys were raised together with the exclusion of Echo, no matter her previous ties to them, Omega was always going to feel isolated to some extent), but not enough to deny she has an attachment to them, and vice versa. Hunter has already shown on multiple occasions (Kamino, Saleucami, the moon from episode 3) that he would do whatever it takes to protect her, but it’s nice to see Omega’s perspective on the newly found emotions too.

Finally, Hunter is able to catch up to both Omega and Fennec, and the sudden change in his demeanour and her aura of innocence is extremely present here. Hunter drops the worrisome parental act fairly quickly, and it’s replaced with the familiar soldier we all know and recognise, he needs to exhibit such strengths to assert the extent he is willing to go to protect Omega. Equally, upon realising Fennec doesn’t quite have her best interest at heart, Omega wastes no time jumping (recklessly) into action to save both herself and Hunter anymore trouble. Of course, being a weightless little girl, she isn’t able to do much, and Hunter ends up in a physical altercation with Shand, where he actually ends up taking his eyes off the assassin to address Omega directly, insisting she run. This not only shows just how much he cares about her, but how desperate he was to ensure her safety by putting himself at risk by not only getting into a fight, but exposing a vulnerability by taking his eyes off of her. (Her worried little face as she flees too, poor girl 😔)

(This point doesn’t have much to do with the relationship between these two, so feel free to skip over it if you want, but I did want to briefly comment on Omega’s timid exterior as she runs to Wrecker in the maintenance tunnels. It truly helps to perceive her genuine age and immaturity, the way she cowers into his neck and sits in his arms especially.)

After Tech informs Hunter of Omega’s current predicament involving the maintenance tower, it’s easily noticeable that when questioning Tech’s information, his voice mirrors the exact tone and edge it held when berating both the former and Echo after their ship was impounded in Saleucami. To me, this shows a clear connotation between the dire situations, and how quickly Hunter has taken to his new role in Omega’s life, and his job as her primary carer. Not to mention, she is literally hanging mid-traffic lane, and in desperate need of assistance. Alongside this, we see previously in this episode that not only was Hunter worried about attracting unwanted attention, after receiving such a thing and accidentally allowing Omega to hang in the balance (pun unintended), he actually steals somebody’s hoverbike in an attempt to rescue the little one, seeming to not care he is attracting even more unwanted attention. There is no hesitation on his end.

The look of absolutely HORROR that crosses this man’s face as Omega drops from the tower and just about hits the hovertruck below. We haven’t seen a look like that cross Hunter’s features since Crosshair’s ‘betrayal’, another indication to his immense worry for the newest member of his family. Equally, this is mirrored by Omega’s wide eyed, petrified stare as she momentarily watches Fennec shoot straight for Hunter’s bike, realising both she and the closest thing she has to a parent are still in serious peril. We need to take into account that this little girl has never experienced something this grim before, and the internal panic is evident for both herself, and Hunter especially.

This brings us down to the “HUNTER!!” comment from Omega as she dangles from the hovertruck. I personally believe her first initial thoughts were not to warn Hunter of the oncoming Shand, but instead a desperation to cry out for help from her guardian. This escalated as she notices Fennec approaching, and her eyes even widen as she calls out for Hunter to watch out, giving further evidence that her first thoughts might not have correlated to her eventual dialogue. It’s also important to note that despite her incredibly tragic situation, Omega is still much more worried about Hunter’s predicament than her own.

(Slightly unimportant, but I love the way Hunter leans in to take Omega in his arm before Shand knocks him out of the way. It’s very parental.)

I never noticed this before, but as Hunter catches Omega’s hand and hauls her onto the bike, he actually scans her over briefly to check for any injuries, before insisting she hold on tight. Notice how his voice isn’t scolding or harsh, he’s very calm despite the dire situation, doing his best to remain neutral for Omega’s sake, especially considering the day she’s had. It’s also important to note that this is further improvement from the situation on Saleucami, another example of their ever-growing relationship.

The WAVE of relief that rolls from Hunter’s entire demeanour as he places the backpack down in the Marauder cockpit, knowing he can finally rest now that Omega is safe, while simultaneously anticipating the flurry of issues about to storm their already hectic lives with a bounty hunter after the kid. His eyes are exhausted, his shoulders are only slightly slacked to insinuate his rough exterior, and yet he still does his absolute best to comfort Omega as she begins to get upset over the prior events and the unknown future.

And, finally, a small action but important nonetheless. I noticed that Omega’s eyes quiver slightly as she begins to get upset, and in her final moments on screen, they direct towards Hunter. This may seem unimportant, but it provides further evidence to the notion that she seeks him out for protection specifically. She’s upset and frightened, so she looks to him because he protects her. It is set up as if she’s about to toss herself into his arms, because she needs him right now.

I hope you liked my analysis of Hunter and Omega’s relationship in episode four of The Bad Batch! Of course, I’d love to discuss these two with anybody who might be interested, so please feel free to drop me an ask or a DM, and if you’re captivated enough I’d totally recommend looking out for my future posts on the topic!

As always, much love to our ‘Megs and Hunter, thank you for reading! 💛

Part One: Aftermath

Part Two: Cut and Run

Part Three: Replacements

52 notes · View notes

sunlightwoo · 3 years

Text

dream of you

☀︎ pairing: soulmate!jacob x g.n reader

☀︎ genre: soulmate au, fluff, college au, some humor because why not :) (italicized text is the dream land)

☀︎ wc: 1618

☀︎ plot: there are times where maybe you should’ve taken the phrase, ‘you’ll never get sleep back’, because somehow your soulmate seems as though they can never sleep, making it impossible for you to get some rest as well. with this, it also means that you have less encounters with one another in your dreams, since it was the only way that you can meet the other person.

loving you is a losing game navi | tbz masterlist

“You look like absolute shit.”

Eyes were burning holes into the side of your best friend’s head as he had given you a cup of coffee for you to consume this morning. He wasn’t wrong, however, as you were currently running on two hours of sleep and were ready to just pass out from the exhaustion streaming in your veins due to the fact that it was exam week.

“Thanks Kevin, how charming of you,” You sarcastically bit back and he put his hands up in a surrendering motion, watching as you sat down in front of him with a sigh escaping your lips, “But thanks for the coffee, you’re my saviour.”

“They didn’t sleep last night?”

You shake your head in response as you knew what he was referring to; your soulmate. The bond that you were gifted with was the art of meeting your soulmate in your dreams throughout your entire life, being connected through there as a way to communicate until you meet in person. The only downfall that came with it was that the only time you would dream of interacting with your soulmate was if their sleep schedule had synched up with yours, and in your case it never seemed to be at the right times.

Most of the nights that you wished you were asleep were spent with high alertness, in which your body was telling you to stay up only because your soulmate was not asleep yet. It was often times like that where you were worried for your soulmate’s sleep schedule, even with the thoughts that they could’ve been in school just like you were at the moment.

“I was able to fall asleep at six this morning, and woke up at my alarm so I can meet you here before you can clock in.” You whisper quietly, taking small sips out of your coffee as you hummed at the flavors that were hitting your taste buds just right.

There was a faint memory of what you had dreamt hours ago when you were able to fall asleep, this time the dream taking place in a familiar garden that you probably have visited once in your early childhood.

Being surrounded by various daisies and lavenders made you feel at peace, and with that you were able to hear soft strumming from somewhere as you were simply running your fingers along the soft grass that was beneath your fingers right beside where you had been lying down. At this moment, your head turns over to look at the figure in front of you with a small smile on your face, watching as their fingers lightly, but skillfully grace over the guitar strings that were enlaced in between them with such awe.

What made it even more enticing was how soothing their voice sounded, a song that you easily recognized from the radio coming from his lips as they serenaded you. Your lifelong soulmate, as you could identify them as, being right there with you was as warm as the cookies you had brought along on the picnic date in the dream, and you knew they had to exist somewhere in the world.

The only downfall was that you couldn’t remember their name when you had woken up in the morning, in which the simple word of their identity was lost at the tip of your tongue when you were focused back into reality.

“It sucks that you can’t remember who they are, because I would’ve probably given up by now for never knowing their name when I wake up.” Kevin sighs quietly and you nod in response, starting to think that the idea giving up was actually appealing.

It wasn’t until you felt a wave of exhaustion that you can tell you were about to fall asleep again, and you figured that maybe it was your soulmate’s way of telling you that they were sleepy too. By the time that you had glanced over at Kevin with a very dozed off look on your face, he had a feeling that you would be ready to fall asleep considering it had happened more than often that you would fall asleep at the cafe.

“Come on, let’s get you some sleep.” He jokes and the two of you get up to head towards the back room where there was already a separate room that he always kept spare for whenever you had naps like today.

You felt fortunate to have a friend like Kevin, considering the fact that his bond was probably one of the most common and easier ones to follow with the mark of a tattoo. You sometimes envied him, but also wondered what would’ve happened when he had met his soulmate, but those thoughts wouldn’t even come through comprehensively considering by the time that your head had already hit the pillow that was beneath you, your entire conscience had made you feel like you were out like a light.

You’re once again at the flowery field that you had met them last, the same position that you were in earlier when you were back in this place hours ago, but this time it was no longer high noon as the sun was rather setting in the background behind you. Eyes had trailed over towards the individual that had been gazing out towards the setting sun with the warm colors decorating their silhouette, and you wondered why you weren’t able to remember their name.

However, it seems as though when they had looked you in the eyes, their name easily slipped out from the tip of your tongue.

“Where are you really, Jacob? I’m losing nights of sleep because of you.” You teased softly, feeling him gently take your fingertips to intertwine them with his own fingers as he held your hands with so much care as if he was scared to let you go.

“I’ve been flying around, and I think I’m getting closer to you since your voice doesn’t sound too far away this time.” He whispers softly, a soft smile coating his face as you hummed in response from the memories of when you first met, in which his soft voice was way too quiet for you to hear because of the distance between you both.

“Are you home yet?”

There was a look of uncertainty that you had noticed in his eyes, one that was glossed over with some sadness as well knowing that you both didn’t have the answer to that. You and Jacob had once told each other that home was where the other person was, but even after years of meeting one another in dreams it wasn’t enough.

“I’ll come home soon, Y/N, don’t worry,” He says, leaving a soft kiss on your hand and there was almost a tear that had slipped out from the corner of your eye, if it weren’t for his hand gently brushing your cheek to wipe it away, “I’m almost home.”

You suddenly are jolted back to reality and there was something different about the fact that your head was spinning from the dream that you had woken up from. Clutching your head into the palm of your hands from how dizzy you felt, there was one thing that you were able to make out from the dizziness that was right at the tip of your tongue.

“Jacob.”

For some reason, you were shocked that you were able to remember his name considering you were never able to remember it, but you did. The memory of the dream that you just had was fresh in your mind, and it made you realize that he must’ve been actually close if you were able to remember everything from it. The only problem on your end was that you didn’t know where to start, because you were pretty sure that there was a person that could be named Jacob in the slightest.

With your heart and head in your hands, you decided to get up from the bed that you were on earlier to get out and head towards the front where the coffee shop was filled with not too many customers. Most of the regulars had already known you as Kevin’s best friend, and you even waved a small welcome to them, however something felt different as you were sipping on the cup of coffee that he had already made for you when he had noticed that you were awake.

Your eyes were trailing along the cafe from where you sat at the window, and it wasn’t until you noticed someone talking to Kevin with almost a bright aura that had matched his. The two seemed to have been long time friends if he had been so excited to talk to the stranger, because you were almost convinced that you were Kevin’s only friend considering he didn’t talk to you about any of his other friends, except for the ones back in his hometown.

It wasn’t until the stranger had turned around the two of you locked eyes, a small gasp almost eliciting from yourself that you realized who they were, and you could’ve sworn that you have seen them once in this lifetime. Both Kevin and the person were walking over to your table and if anybody could’ve seen you right now, they could possibly sense the growing tension that was growing between the two of you.

If it weren’t for the fact that the beautiful stranger had taken it upon himself to give you a warm smile as he reached for your hand gently while you had allowed him to and gently squeezed your hand with what you could feel as love and comfort.

“Welcome home, Jacob.”

154 notes · View notes

one-boring-person · 3 years

Note

You forced this upon yourself😂 you forced this rambo simp.(and i dont mind)

Okay this may not be as good! But! Im giving you the liberty to take it where you want!(because i love your little details and how you express the feeling in your writing i- AH! Its great. I cant say it enough, it’s great. I mean it.)

How about Rambo finally getting enough courage to show The rancher around the tunnels, in a date sort of way!(they don’t know thats actually where he lives. Aka that photo i showed you before.) i really saw how the rancher was so happy to have him at their house, I’d love to see rambos side of scheduling a house tour and date type deal!! Maybe him even sitting and showing the rancher through all his old photos, and them just in awe because wow. He’s so much cooler than they even thought! He just so nervous and surprised seeing them so interested in him after all this time alone, and them just- in awe of him.

( i also really think it would be funny seeing rambo go through his friends house and seeing-“why the hell you have so many plants???” And just. Adorable assassin living with a wholesome and loving hardworking s/o)

Ah! Im sorry if that’s not as good!! But hey, you feel free to describe their antics and relationship as you will!!

I think I may have run a bit with this, but I hope you like it regardless!😊💛

I've Got Your Back, You've Got Mine.

John Rambo (Rambo IV/V) x reader

Warnings: mention of death, mention of war, mention of injury, mention of PTSD, mention of violence, (possible flash warning for gif?)

Masterlist

The heavy knock on the door surprises me where I'm sitting, the sharp sound snapping me from my thoughts. Looking over at it from my position at the table, I frown and set down my spoon, standing to go answer, unsure of who it is: I'm not expecting anyone today. Colt looks up from his place on the floor, the dog just as curious as I am as to whom it may be, though he doesn't bark, so it must be someone we know. He watches me as I cross the room, going straight to the door.

Opening it, I'm somewhat surprised to see my neighbour, John, standing there, a tentative smile on his face as he looks me over appreciatively, his gaze drawing a blush to my face.

"Mornin' (Y/n)." He greets, rough voice friendly as he waits for me to let him in.

"Morning John." I smile back, delighted to see him, "What can I do for you?"

I step back, waiting for him to enter, which he does so with a nod of thanks.

"Since when have I needed a reason to see you?" The veteran chuckles, the sound reverberating within me, my brain subconsciously storing the action away for later recall. Gently, John moves into my space, one hand coming to lightly rest on my hips as the other cups my face, drawing me in for a slow kiss.

Kissing back, I feel a glow of happiness flare up in me at this contact: he's never really one to initiate touch like this, so it's a whole lot more intimate when he does. Relaxed, I loosely wrap my arms around his neck, languidly caressing his dark hair as our lips move together.

Being the killjoy he often loves to be, Colt pushes in between us, nosing at John's leg, tail wagging enthusiastically as he recognises the familiar man, the dog as fond of his company as I am. Chuckling, John and I pull apart, looking down at the large canine between us, the dark eyes staring up at us imploring us to pay attention to him. Still smiling, John lowers a hand to scratch Colt's head, ruffling his floppy ears a little as the dog instantly allows his mouth to hang open, tongue lolling in content.

"Hey, Colt." The veteran greets, biting back a laugh as the dog pushes me out of the way, nudging at John's stomach.

"He never gets that excited to see me." I complain jokingly, standing back to watch the two interact, a smile playing at my lips.

"Sure he does." John replies, eyes fixing on mine with an expression of fondness, one that had me weak at the knees.

"He really doesn't, he just sits in the corner and whines at me until I feed him. Isn't that right?" I address the dog himself, giving him a light slap on the rear, his ridiculous height meaning I can quite easily reach it, "Anyhow, did you need something? Or did you just come here to kiss me? I can't say I'll complain if that's the case."

Cheekily, I wink at the veteran, leaning back against a nearby counter.

"As nice as that sounds, it's not the reason I came by." He chuckles, blushing lightly, "Though that does sound good."

Grinning, I nod my agreement, only now taking in his body language: he's nervous. His hands fidget, rubbing his fingers over scars and lines on his palms, and he shifts from foot to foot every now and then, small tells he's never quite managed to hide from me.

"Is something up?" I ask him, slightly more serious this time, unnerved by his discomfort.

"No, no, not at all. I, err, well, I just wanted to ask you something." He rubs the back of his neck, head tilted to the side as he regards me, dark eyes fixed on mine.

"Ok, go for it." I prompt him, curiosity sparking my interest.

"Well, do you wanna come to mine? I mean properly, like in the house." John cocks his head to the side, lowering his arm again.

Blinking, I feel shock flood my system, before it turns to unbelievable happiness that he's trusting me enough to come into his private space. Initially, I can't find the right words, somehow struggling to respond, until I find my tongue again.

"I would love to, John." I agree, features lighting up as my mood brightens, "There's nothing I've really got to do today except train up one of the younger horses, so I've got as long as you want after that."

"Great. Is four o'clock alright?" The veteran smiles broadly, though he still looks somewhat nervous.

"Yeah, should be. I'll be there." I promise him, taking up my Stetson from the table as I briefly turn away to put away the plate I was using, having lost my appetite in my sudden excitement.

"I'll get it tidy." He says, looking around the room again, "I'll never understand why you have so many plants in your house. It's like a damn jungle."

At his comment, I laugh loudly, glancing around at the variety of different houseplants I have placed on various shelves, the greenery practically covering every available surface.

"Because it's way too dry to grow anything like this outside all the time. Anyway, they look nice." I shrug, calling Colt to my side as I follow John from the house, grabbing my jacket from the hook as I pass.

"But why so many?"

Once again, I shrug, following him over to a nearby post, where he's hitched Bandit, the horse I gave him a few months ago. The buckskin stallion paws at the ground, his pale coat looking as clean as ever even as he noses at the dust, the dark colouring around his eyes (the reason for his name) and legs standing out much more in the bright sun. As we approach, he looks up, snorting in greeting.

"He's looking good." I acknowledge, admiring the strong stallion appreciatively - I had reared Bandit from a foal, before I had given him to the veteran as a gift four months ago, hoping it will help him to grow his own ranch. My plan had worked, and John now has four horses, including Bandit, as well as a couple of other animals, such as a cow, a pig and five chickens. I'd sold him a couple of goats as well, but we soon found out that John and goats just didn't get along. At all.

"Yeah, he's doing well, too. Takes the training very well, too." John runs a hand through the stallion's dark mane, untying the reins.

"That's good. Reckon he'll be ready for a competition soon?"

"Should be."

Snorting again, Bandit pulls at the reins, clearly eager to get going, especially as Colt moves up to sniff at the horse's back legs. I quickly whistle him over, knowing Bandit has always been shifty around the dog.

"I'll see you at four then." I finally say, unwilling to say goodbye, even if it is only for a few hours.

"Yeah, see you then." John smiles, leaning in to kiss me again, keeping it brief this time, leaving me wishing for more, as he always does.

"See ya." I grin, watching him climb into the saddle, still somehow fluid in doing so despite his age.

Gathering the reins in hand, John adjusts himself in the saddle, before he smiles down at me again as he gently urges Bandit into motion. Obediently, the stallion moves into a swift trot, which turns into a faster canter as the two move off down the driveway, heading towards the split in the fence separating our land. I watch as they go, still finding myself enraptured by the sight of the muscular man sat astride the horse, Colt eventually snapping me from my mind as he barks at me. Shaking my head, I follow him towards the stable.

Hours later, having showered and cleaned up, I feel a sense of relief go through me as I hoist myself into the saddle secured into place on Leo's back. It's relaxing, the stallion beneath me more relaxed than the youngster I've been trying to train all day: she never gave me a break. Seemingly sensing this, as he always does, Leo flicks his ears back and nickers softly, very lightly pawing the ground as I give him a pat on the neck, glad to have a more reliable horse taking me where I need to be.

Tilting back my Stetson, I take the reins in hand and ease the stallion into a trot, intending to let him pick up his own pace, my trust in this horse far greater than in the mare from before. Obediently, Leo moves into the correct gait, the two of us moving as if as one, years of riding together having made it easy for us to become in tune with each other. Together, we start off down the road towards John's ranch, the new path we've created beaten and well-used, allowing for relatively easy riding. Leo's hooves pound the dry ground rhythmically, my hips moving in time with his every stride, the relaxing movement helping to calm the nerves that have sprung up inside me.

A part of me is still unconvinced about going into John's home. Yes, I had helped him rebuild it and had seen very little of the inside rooms, but it still feels as if I'm intruding upon the veteran's safe space, his reprieve from the cruelty of the world he lives in. Something about that doesn't sit right with me, but I tell myself it's John's decision to make, not mine, so I should trust him, which I do, wholeheartedly.

I'm still torn by the time I reach the main house, where John is already sat waiting for me in his rocking chair, dark eyes fixed on me as I approach. Lifting a hand to him, I smile and slow Leo to a halt, praising the horse as I climb down, the gray stallion nosing affectionately at me. Swiftly, I tie him to a nearby post, only to stop when John calls out to me.

"Put him in the stable for the night." He instructs me, gesturing for me to follow him as I try to fight back the sudden onslaught of racing thoughts at his implications: he wants me to stay the night?

"Sure, thanks." I smile back at him, walking after him with Leo in tow.

"Don't worry about it. It's not fair on him if he has to stay out all night." John waves me off with a short grin, "How'd training go?"

I groan.

"Not great. That horse has it in for me, I swear." I complain, rubbing at my arm, remembering the moment I got the new bruise forming there.

"Oh yeah?" He muses, looking amused.

"Yeah. She threw me off eight times!"

"Eight times? Wow, must be a new record." The veteran jokes, something that stirs up the familiar fondness inside me at his more personable behaviour.

"I reckon so. Painful one to set, though, I'll tell you." I remark, smiling broadly as we enter the stable, where I quickly house Leo next to Bandit, removing his tack and other gear.

"Must be." John watches me work, leaning against the door to the large building, muscular arms crossed over an equally muscular chest. Turning back to him, I have to stop and admire the bulging of his biceps as his hands grip his forearms, the veins I've come to love laying out a pattern on the tanned limbs. Everytime I see them, I imagine his strong arms wrapped around me, holding me safe and secure against his solid body, wishing I could feel his hands splayed against me more often.

"Like what you see?" John interrupts my thoughts, voice teasing as he lifts an eyebrow at me, almost smirking at me.

Blushing furiously, I avert my gaze, lifting a hand to gently tap the brim of my Stetson out of my vision.

"You know I do." I laugh nervously, before I look back up at him, "Anyway, since when do you use pickup lines?"

"Since I figured out they get you all flustered." His playful tone is new to me, though it's gone almost as soon as I see it, his guarded expression falling back into place as he returns within himself, probably thinking he overstepped some invisible boundary.

I still can't help stammering for a response, his gruff tone awakening something within me.

"Heh, I guess you're right." I stutter, going over to him.

Nodding, he keeps his expression straight, leading me out back to the house, where he quickly welcomes me inside.

"I tried to tidy it as much as possible, but it's still a bit messy." The veteran apologises, observing the interior of his home critically, even as I do so in awe.

The rooms, from what I can see, are mostly filled with sparse furniture, a few chairs here and there, an old sofa, a couple of vanities and dressers, with a mantlepiece in most, if not all, of them. He hasn't used much colour, but what he has used is tasteful and works well with the overall appearance. The walls, however, are what really draw me into the place.

They are littered with photographs and memorabilia, frames and objects cleaned and polished so they shine brightly in the afternoon sun, many smiling faces visible in them. Curious, I go over to one wall, looking over the array of pictures, which I now recognise to be images of John and his friends from the years he spent here. Amongst them is a creased black and white photo of a young John sat astride a horse not unlike Bandit, a broad grin on the boy's face as he stares at the camera from under a mop of thick black hair. I can feel a small smile creep onto my face at the sight of the veteran looking so happy and carefree, something I've not seen very much of at all in my time around him.

"That was my first horse, Hector. I had him until I left for the army." John says from behind me, sounding somewhat quiet, eyes softened from nostalgia as he stares at the picture along with me, "I loved him a lot, but my father always said he wasn't good enough."

His words hang in the air as I stay speechless, listening intently to what he's saying to me: it's the first I'm hearing about his life before he came here again.

"What happened to him? Hector, I mean." I ask him quietly, tearing my eyes away to look up at John.

The veteran shrugs, appearing somewhat remorseful.

"I'll never know, but I reckon my father sold him as soon as I was gone."

"Oh." I frown, glancing back at the photograph.

"The horse was getting old by that time, though. He probably wasn't much use." John chuckles wryly, moving away towards the stairs nearby, "Do you want to see upstairs?"

"Yeah, sure." I nod, following him as he ascends to the second floor, which I now see consists of three different rooms.

He takes me to the farthest, opening the door to reveal an old study, which looks as if it hasn't been used in a good few years.

"This was my father's study, where he did all his business. I was never allowed in here as a kid." John sweeps his arm around the room, staying by the threshold, as if abiding by a rule that no longer exists, "Not that I go in here that much as an adult."

I look around, finding the neat area interesting: images of a young John hovering by the door, waiting for his father to finish business entering my head.

"It's nice, I like it." I remark, turning to find him smiling very slightly at me.

"It's the only room in the house that's exactly as it used to be. I haven't had time to do up the others properly." John says, leaving the study and going back down the hall, where he opens the other two doors to reveal a bathroom and an empty room.

A dull curiosity flares up within me as I realise one thing about the top floor, but I easily find a solution to it, following John back down the stairs. As we go, however, I realise that my assumption is wrong, as the only other rooms down here are missing the one thing I'd expect in any house.

"Where do you sleep? I haven't seen a bed or anything anywhere." I ask him, cocking my head to the side as he takes me to one final door.

"I'm gonna show you." He smiles at me, before he opens the door.

I blink as I see the dark steps descending into the ground, unease biting at my throat as I flash John a hesitant look. A cool draft wafts up from the black depth, but John only chuckles and moves down into the space below, gesturing for me to follow.

"It's perfectly safe, don't worry." He calls to me, a light flickering on as he reaches the bottom of the steps, illuminating the path to me.

Swallowing, I gingerly step down the stairs, emerging into a tunnel of sorts, my curiosity piqued as I take in the chiselled walls around me, the rock cast in an odd light from the naked bulbs positioned along the length of the cavern. Struts of wood hold the ceiling steady, wiring hanging off of them in places where he's had to hastily put it all together. John watches as I take in the passage, a thoughtful look in place on his face.

"What is this place?" I wonder aloud, still taken aback by the oddity of having a tunnel beneath the house that stretches off in both directions.

"This is my safe space." The veteran informs me, urging me along with him as we go further into the tunnel, walking together for a minute before we emerge out into a larger room of sorts, which is well lit.

My eyes widen as I realise exactly what he means.

The room acts as his bedroom and bathroom, and also has space to sit and relax, the whole area having a homely feel to it. What was missing in the rooms in the house can be found down here, including more photographs, though these ones seem different to the others. They adorn the walls, all except one, which is decorated with a variety of weapons, both guns and knives. Going over to it, I look over the rifles and shotguns hooked onto the wall, struck speechless as I then turn my attention to a machete, the blade honed but chipped from use, seemingly out of place as it hangs beside another, smaller hunting knife.

Moving on, I regard the photographs, only now realising that they're military pictures, many of them containing images of a youthful John in fatigues and uniform. A smile creeps back onto my lips as I feel my eyes land on a particular image of a group of men, where I can see John standing amongst them, a triumphant grin on his face, long locks of dark hair held back by a strip of fabric around his head. The others also smile, though there's something bittersweet about the inscription at the corner of the photo: Baker Team, Vietnam. As I look past the other pictures, I notice that the team slowly dwindles, beaming faces becoming drawn and solemn, eventually just leaving two people behind. Beneath this image is another inscription: Baker Team Survivors.

"That was my team in 'Nam." John says suddenly, voice husky as he remembers the friends he had, "None of them made it back. Not really."

Eyes wide, I look back at him, taking in the distant look in his own eyes, the barely concealed grief still raw in his expression as he stares at the photographs. Noticing my gaze, John gestures for me to come sit on the edge of his bed with him, the veteran pulling another photograph from it's place on his bedside table. Doing so, I make sure I'm not touching him, but am close enough to reassure him, waiting patiently for him to start talking of his own accord, knowing that this is a sensitive subject for him.

After a moment, he starts, his voice low as he pulls me into his stories, taking me through suffocating jungles and blistering heats, through recon and rescue missions, through bloody gunfights and hellfire, through hours spent in torturous situations. He puts me in his shoes as he loses every single member of his team to the gruesome fight he should never have fought, the harrowing grief and pain of letting go of a comrade, someone who's supposed to be by your side for as long as the two of you can stay alive, laid bare for me to see and experience. And even as he moves on, back to familiar territory in the States, the fight never leaves him.

Facing harassment in what should be his safety and security, I can feel every bit of betrayal, of anger and grief that he felt as he is let down by his own country time after time, used again and again by the authorities to do their dirty work, only to be cast aside when it doesn't go their way, the old catchphrase he once lived by, "I've got your back, you've got mine" completely meaningless in this hollow life. His disgust in humanity is plain to me as he outlines his most recent forays into warfare, where the rage he felt is once again transferred to me, and I experience the violent need to take out the parasites in the world that destroy anything good that he did. It's as if I'm there with him, through everything, his description and memories so vivid they chill me to the core, keeping me hooked on his every word.

After a long while, he eventually trails off, and I realise there's a tear rolling down his cheek, his body shaking a little as he holds himself back. My heart breaking, I have to fight the urge to reach out and pull him into an embrace, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. I place my hand on his shoulder instead, rubbing the tight muscles soothingly until he looks up at me with the most heart-rending gaze I've ever seen in my life. At that point, my resolve breaks.

Carefully, I lean in and wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling the veteran towards me. He goes willingly, sobs wracking his body as he wraps his own hands around me, burying his face into my neck, tears flowing freely now as he lets himself go, each pained sound agonising to hear. Tightening my grip, I lay back onto the bed, allowing him to press his body around me, holding me against his muscular form as I rub his back, whispering soothing things to him as his breathing starts to calm a little. It takes time, but eventually he starts to relax, body going limp as he lays in my arms, his larger form awkwardly wrapped around mine as he depresses his face into the crook of my neck.

I barely hear his broken voice as he whispers to me.

"Thank you."

Breathing in his familiar scent, I just mould myself closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead as he does the same to my neck.

"I'm here for you, John. I'm here, and I'll never leave. Not as long as I live, I promise."

#rambo x reader #rambo imagine #rambo #rambo 5 #rambo last blood #rambo 4 #sylvester Stallone #John Rambo x reader #John Rambo imagine #John Rambo

71 notes · View notes

andromedasstarship · 3 years

Text

in the stars - chapter 3

photo credit - unknown

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, stalking, depictions of murder/violence, angst, verbal fighting, drinking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smoking (cigarettes)

summary - “If you’re upset over how I ended our relationship, that is completely separate from the dealings of the case and I expect you to be able to conduct yourself appropriately.” Aaron said and you thought this was what ‘seeing red’ meant

a/n - hi besties! im so sorry this update took so long! i really wanted to make it perfect and was struggling with putting this together. to make it up this chapter is a whopping 5.9k words so uh enjoy lol!

masterlist // series masterlist // read it on ao3

chapter 2 // chapter 4

-----

You had to physically stop yourself- gripping the desk chair beside you so hard your knuckles turned white- from following Aaron out the office door and demanding he make sense of the whole good cop- ha!- bad cop show he’d been putting on since the two of you had been horribly reunited outside of the police station.

This had been the second instance of him implying or accusing you of somehow worsening the case. And he hadn’t even been in LA for over 24hrs. It wasn’t fair, you thought, angrily grumbling to yourself about all the different ways you’d love to give him a piece of your mind. If he’d been a regular man, that you’d never met before, you probably wouldn’t consider his current behavior to be so- out of pocket? disgraceful? insulting?- offensive. You knew he had a reputation for being...,a hardass on the job, but that didn’t mean he had to go overboard in his treatment towards you. Maybe he wasn’t going overboard, maybe this was just how he treated every- you weren’t sure exactly how to define yourself in the case- witness? Maybe this is just what his team expected in terms of his behavior towards people he didn’t know.

But he did know you, he knew you quite well. He knew you well enough to know you’d never purposely attempt to slow the case down. Even without his fancy profiler skills, you were certain Aaron Hotchner knew every little thing about you. Or at least he used to.

And while Aaron may know everything there was to know about you, you were beginning to doubt if you actually knew anything about him. As expected, over the past two months the case had been taking an extreme toll on you; constantly looking over your shoulder and worrying that someone was lurking behind every corner. What made it worse, was that it was yet another situation that required you to keep a secret. You ‘had’ the officers at the station and your agent, but besides them you were dealing with this completely on your own. Making the situation about yourself felt wrong, but you couldn’t even begin to explain how hurt you felt at Aaron's accusations that you were somehow more part of the problem than you were a victim. Yes, you hadn’t gone up to him and explicitly told him how badly you were hurting, but it’s not like it took a genius- or a profiler- to reach that conclusion themselves.

It hurt, to have someone whose validation you had once- still did- crave so much, suddenly act as if you were a ‘bad guy’. Maybe you were being dramatic, you thought. Maybe you were overreacting and reading far too deep into such short interactions. On the other hand, you reasoned that it was perfectly acceptable to have feelings. Before you could delve deeper into that mental tirade, a sharp knock on the doorframe grabbed your attention. Looking up, you saw JJ leaning halfway into the room.

“Sorry,” you said, awkwardly letting go of the chair, “I uh, got caught up with uh, just you know, thoughts about the case!” Smooth. You tried to put a cheery tone in your voice. You tried to subtly study her reaction as you walked over to her and it was clear she wasn’t exactly buying into your sudden happy attitude. She didn’t press you though, something you were grateful for. Instead she just moved out of the doorframe, letting you join her in the hallway.

“The rest of the team has split up already, would you like to start in the basement?” JJ asked. You had only spoken to her a couple times, briefly at that, but you already found great comfort in her presence; you could see why she held the position, her ability to comfort and connect with others was unbeatable. Definitely need to send JJ a case of wine as a gift.

You nodded dumbly, joining her in the hallway and taking her down towards your basement. Internally, you guessed the little ‘tour’ would only take an hour tops, considering all the little spiels you’d have to give about each room.

You felt a bit like when you went through airport security or when a police car was on a road you were driving on. That sinking feeling that somehow you were going to get in trouble even though you knew you didn’t have anything to hide. Damn Aaron. His apparent lowly opinion of you was definitely messing with your head. Oh well.

As you lead JJ towards the basement, you could vaguely hear the other agents throughout the house. A door opening here or the sound of papers rustling over there. You hadn’t exactly asked how they would be able to tell if something was missing or out of place. But honestly? You didn’t really care what the team did in your house, as long as they figured out how the unsub had gotten in there.

You’d already come to terms with the fact that the unsub had managed to steal your clothes and jewelry, but you just couldn’t shake the fact that he had gotten into your house. Part of you secretly wished he had pick-pocketed you on a busy street or was stealing stuff off a film set instead. It would’ve been equally as bad and creepy and horrifying, but it would’ve been worth still feeling safe in your own house.

Smacking the lightswitch on the wall behind you, the entire basement became illuminated. “So,” you started, really drawing out the word, “this is the basement. It’s technically one big open floor, but well,” you gestured lazily with your hand, “you can see it’s kinda still split up. There’s a movie room behind those doors right there.”

JJ stepped ahead of you, walking towards the high windows in the basement. You watched as she ran her fingers along the window edges, carefully going over each one. “Do these open?” She asked, turning back to look at you.

You quickly shook your head. “They’re mostly just for, like, decoration purposes.” You responded, giving a slight shrug. “I um, I’m not down here much unless I’m having people over. And those stairs we came down are the only way to get in here.” You added, thinking that’d probably be helpful.

JJ gave you that nice smile again and started towards the movie room. “I’m just gonna look in here real quick and then we can go back upstairs, okay?”

You stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, rolling back and forth from your heels to your tippy toes, awkwardly playing with your hands in front of yourself. You knew her movie room scan wouldn’t take wrong, there were zero windows in there and no other point of entry besides the door she had walked through.

Just as you expected, JJ came back out no longer than five minutes later. Once she got closer to you, you turned slowly on your heel and started back up the stairs. “We can start upstairs and then meet the rest of your team on the main level?” You offered.

“Lead the way.”

“There’s um, two ways to get upstairs. There’s that main staircase you saw in the foyer and also there’s a ‘servants stair’ in the back,” you said, making air quotes with your fingers at the ‘servants stair’ part, “I have people that work in the house sometimes, but it’s not an actual designated staircase for anyone.” You explained, unsure of why you were feeling so anxious.

“Why don’t we go up using the second set of stairs? Since I’ve already seen the main set.” JJ said.

You nodded dumbly again, and walked in the direction of the back stairs. Once upstairs, you gave the same room spiel to JJ about six times. This is ‘x’ room, yep those windows can open, nope no one regularly comes into this room, yes the balcony doors do lock from the inside.

Just as you thought earlier, the little tour took just a couple minutes under an hour. You and JJ were standing in your kitchen, both of you leaning against opposite countertops. According to JJ the whole team had agreed to meet up in your kitchen once they were done with their scans, so it seemed that you two were the first to finish. Also expected.

You were lucky you hadn’t run into Aaron the entire time. At times you could vaguely hear his voice coming from another room and all that did was pull on your heartstrings and remind you of when the two of you were together. Aside from the sadness factor, you still weren’t sure you could trust yourself to not yell at him as soon as you saw him again.

“That’s funny.” JJ said amusedly-more to herself than to you-, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What is?” You asked. She had moved from her spot by the countertops, to standing in front of your liquor wall, staring up at a bottle you couldn’t quite recognize from your position.

“Oh, just Agent Hotchner? Out there,” she said, gesturing broadly out to where the rest of the team might be, “he loves this brand of scotch. We joke sometimes that he’d pick it over us if he was given the choice. But apparently it’s super difficult to get. He started getting lucky a few years ago and found a way to buy it, but recently I guess that luck ran out and he hasn’t been able to find it anymore.”

Your eyes went wide at that. Yes. That scotch was super difficult to get and it was ridiculously expensive. And yes, Aaron loved the stuff. The two of you used to constantly argue over money. He hated that you were always the one paying for everything and had created a ‘rule’ that you weren’t allowed to buy him any gifts. Of course, you managed to find a way around that rule and found that this specific scotch was his gift achilles heel. So, you used to send him a steady supply while also keeping a bottle at your place for the rare occasions he was over.

“Oh?” You squeaked.

“Yeah, it’s super rare or something. They only make so many batches a year don’t they?” JJ asked, turning back to look at you.

You quickly pulled your emotions in when she turned towards you, just giving her your third dumb nod of the day. “Yep, super hard to get. Super super hard. I uh, got as a gift once, I don’t even like the stuff.”

“You should tell Hotch. I bet he’d pay pretty well for it.” She said with a laugh, shaking her head. Definitely will not be doing that.

----

Upstairs, Rossi and Hotch were looking through your upstairs office. While your downstairs office was more work based- you stored scripts and had meetings down there, etc.-, your upstairs office was used for your more ‘personal’ work tasks.

“If the unsub is taking her clothes, we might have better success scoping out her closet. See the potential entry and exit points from her room that the unsub must be taking.” Rossi proposed.

Hotch nodded at that, putting down the stack of fan mail he’d been flipping through, trying to find any repeats or ‘creepy’ letters. He made a mental note to have Reid come and read through the piles of other mail you had neatly stacked around the room.

Your attention to fanmail had been one of the things that had quickened the process of him falling in love with you. He had had his doubts in the beginning of you relationship- he had stereotyped you for sure-, your age and status giving him somewhat valid concerns that you’d be insanely disconnected from the normal world. You’d proved him wrong in many ways since the beginning, but one of those ways had been the many days you’d call him from this room, reading through every single letter you were sent and always making sure to send a small note back.

“Good idea, let’s go.” Hotch said. He walked out of office and didn’t think twice, his body automatically walking towards the room a few doors down from your bedroom. You didn’t keep your closet in your bedroom, you had actually put a little couch and sitting room in your bedroom closet space. Instead you’d taken an entire guest room and converted it into a full dressing room/closet that was a better fit for your needs.

As Hotch went straight into the room, he missed the narrow look Rossi was giving him from the doorframe. It only took a couple minutes, but eventually Hotch looked up, cocking an eyebrow at Rossi. “Are you going to come in?” He questioned.

“You knew her closet wasn’t in her room.” Rossi noted, amusement clear in his voice.

Hotch’s face paled, before he steeled his emotions back over. “I saw the clothes while walking past earlier and made the deduction.”

“She’s pretty, isn’t she Aaron?” Rossi teased, clearly finding a lot of enjoyment in this conversation.

“Dave,” Hotch groaned, running a hand over his face, “just, not now okay?” He asked, the desperation clear in his voice.

Rossi certainly didn’t have the entire story figured out, but he wasn’t dumb either, he could piece things together. As much as he’d love to keep busting Hotch over this, there was something about how gentle he had been with you in the conference room and his current clear discomfort that persuaded Rossi otherwise. Rossi grinned at Hotch and raised his hands in mock surrender.

“So, we know the unsub doesn’t have to necessarily be quiet, her room is at least what, 3-”

“Four and across the hall.” Hotch huffed out, not looking up to meet Rossi’s eyes.

“Four and across the hall away. So he doesn’t need to sneak past her if he’s coming in at night...”

----

Back in the kitchen, you turned your head at the sound of the back patio doors opening, showing Morgan and Spencer. Guess they’d be the second pair done with their house tour.

Just as you were about to open your mouth and offer the two of them something to drink, you noticed the rather grim expressions on both their faces. Upon better inspection, you saw Spencer was tightly gripping on to a dirty journal.

“What’s that?” You asked curiously, trying to get a better look at it.

“I found this uh, journal out by the edge of your property line. I think it may belong to the unsub.” Reid responded, giving you a tight lipped look.

It was terribly cliche, but you couldn’t help but gasp at that. Your eyes going wide and your mouth hanging open.

“I flipped through it, there’s nothing that clearly identifies him, but it seems like he was keeping track of your comings and goings. As well as keeping a list of the things he took from your house, we can cross check that list with-”

“Can I look at it?” You interjected, a morbid curiosity consuming your mind.

Reid gave an unsure glance at the two other agents in the room. “I think it’d be better for the rest of the team and I to look through the journal first, and make sure there’s nothing uh...upsetting in it.”

----

With the new revelations that the unsub had managed to break into your home multiple times, the team decided it would be best for at least one of them to be with you at the house at all times; during the day they would assign a plainclothes officer to discreetly sit watch. It was comical, the way they decided on the watch and then promptly assigned Aaron the first shift of the night.

You wondered why he agreed to it, knowing he could’ve easily pulled a seniority boss card and taken himself out of any and all future watch shifts as well. He probably didn’t want you to get closer with any of his agents, should you accidentally say something a bit too personal. He also probably assumed that with the late hour of the night, you’d immediately be going to bed or at least locking yourself away in your room for the rest of the night.

The team had stayed hours after their first walkthroughs of the house, the new list and notes from the unsub giving you all a better idea of what to look for. You had gone through the list of clothes and jewelry in front of the team, giving them a base description of what you assumed the unsub had meant, whether or not you had considered it missing and where you thought you’d last seen it in the house.

Unfortunately, whatever Aaron had been banking on wouldn’t be happening. You hadn’t been able to shake the sinking feeling that your house was no longer a home anymore. It was painfully cheesy, but you knew that trying to sleep would be futile. Nor did you really feel like being ‘alone’ in your room. That didn’t mean you were going to strike up a conversation with Aaron or ask him to play a board game or something, but you wouldn’t be shutting away from the rest of the night.

After the team left, you had gone upstairs and changed into a more comfortable outfit for the evening; just your trusty sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt. You were now walking back down the stairs and towards your kitchen; you grasped a lighter and your emergency cigarette pack in one hand. As you made your way into the kitchen, you could feel Aarons eyes on you from wherever he was seated in the living room. You pointedly ignored him, instead setting the pack and lighter down, freeing your hands so you could mix yourself your favorite drink.

Once your drink was prepped, you balanced all your things in your hands and made your way back through the living room and out the grand French doors that lead to your backyard. You walked over to one of your lounge chairs that overlooked the pool and had a beautiful view of the sky and bright lights of the city. You turned on one of your favorite playlists and made yourself comfy in the chair, lighting up one of the cigarettes.

With the first inhale, you felt your body relax. It was a horrible habit- you knew that-, but if there was ever a time to stress smoke, you reasoned it was probably now. Over the sound of your music, you faintly heard one of the doors open again, but you didn’t bother turning around.

“I thought you quit.” Aaron said, quite literally coming out of the shadows. Even though you didn’t turn to look at him, you could perfectly imagine him in your mind; probably leaning up against one of the legs of the cabana, arms tightly crossed and a deep scowl on his face.

“I did.” You replied plainly, blowing a steady stream of smoke out of your mouth. Using your free hand you picked your glass back off the chair side table, twirling it slowly. As you took a long sip, you could hear Aaron walk closer, not quite coming into view yet.

“Drinking and abusing substances in response to a traumatic situation is widely frowned upon.

“Thank you Surgeon General,” you said, rolling your eyes before adding, “no offense Agent, but right now, I don’t really think it matters.” You didn’t even bother attempting to argue that you were on your first drink and first smoke.

“It matters, when my team will be counting on you tomorrow. The expectation is that you’ll be a useful and legitimate resource.” Aaron said, voice tight.

“Do you really think I’m dumb enough to actually believe, that you believe that a single drink is going to render me useless?” You asked, finally turning your head so you could give him a pointed look. When he didn’t answer you rolled your eyes again, turning back away from him. “It doesn’t matter, Agent, I’m unavailable to be a resource tomorrow.”

“What do you mean, unavailable?” Aaron asked. He finally walked into view, sitting down on the chair next to you. He positioned his legs over the edge facing you, resting his elbows off his knees.

“What do you mean unavailable?” You said mockingly- the alcohol in your system and stress of the day emboldening your behavior. You paused for a moment to take another drag from your cigarette; Aaron didn’t miss the way you turned your head further from him during your exhale. “You have your job Agent, I have mine.”

“There is a dangerous free man out there with a special interest in you. He’s not only managed to break into your house but is also murdering surrogate women in place of you,” he said, voice growing louder as he went, “and you think you should go to a film set? How immature and irresponsible are-”

“Stop doing that!” You cut him off, snapping your head to face him. For a brief moment, you were taken aback by how close he’d been sitting. “Stop painting me to be some dumb self centered girl. This is the fourth time today.” You said, staring him hard in the face, neither of your breaking eye contact. He always looked so good with a beard- stop that.

“I’m trying to do my job and protect you,” he paused, eyes scanning your face, “I couldn’t handle anything happening to you.” In that moment, his voice was so painfully honest and it almost made you want to agree to do whatever dumb rules he had for you.

Almost.

Instead, you swung your legs to the side of the chair opposite to him, standing up in a quick blur of motion. “Stop doing that too!” You exclaimed, running your free hand over your face. You took a long drag from your cigarette, placing one hand on your hip. Aaron was giving you a genuinely confused look and you just wanted to wipe it off in one big swipe. “Stop doing some weird little bait and switch between acting like I’m a diva and then trying to end it with some vaguely little sweet comment.”

“You actually think I don’t care about your safety?” Aaron asked, the faintest bit of hurt in his voice. He stood up as well before continuing. “You think this isn’t a difficult case for me?”

“You do not get to do that!” You said angrily, pointing a free finger out at him. “You are not allowed to try and make yourself a victim in this story while you simultaneously make me part of the problem. How the hell can you see yourself as even remotely ‘good’ when you left the way you did?” There it was. Maybe it was immature, dragging the breakup into the argument, but the days’ tension- not to mention the months of bottled up emotions- was finally snapping inside of you.

“If you’re upset over how I ended our relationship, that is completely separate from the dealings of the case and I expect you to be able to conduct yourself appropriately.” Aaron said and you thought that this must be what ‘seeing red’ meant.

“Do you treat all your witnesses like this?” You were full on yelling now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Is this your version of appropriate conduct, Agent Hotchner? You’ve proven to be nothing but incompetent! You can’t even see two inches past your own fucking face to consider this from my perspective!”

Your words had their intended effect. Aaron’s face fell for the briefs of moments before years of bottling his own emotions took back over. You had to give him some credit for keeping it, outwardly, more together than you were. “I won't fight with you over something as trivial as this. You’ll report to the station in the morning with the rest of the team.” He ordered, voice dangerously low.

“I have to work!” You exclaimed, putting heavy emphasis on each word.

“Going to work isn’t safe. Do you understand that? Your stalker is well acquainted with your schedule, you need to step away from what’s expected of you. It’s dangerous-”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, shaking your head, “are you even listening to yourself? Your job is dangerous every single day, hell you didn’t even step away when the job was dangerous specifically to you! How am I supposed to take advice you can’t even follow?” At the end of your sentence, you angrily stubbed out your cigarette in the ashtray, leaving the butt in the tray.

“This isn’t about me.” Aaron snapped, voice loudest it’d been all night. “I’m trying to keep you safe. What part of that don’t you understand?” He asked, giving you a tough look. You found yourself at a loss for words and he took your silence as an opening to continue. “I can’t stand to see you get hurt.”

“Are you finally understanding how exhausting it was to love you!” You blurted out, the words catching even you by surprise. You forcibly blinked back the tears forming your eyes. “That this, is how I felt each time you were called away on a case?”

Aaron was equally as shocked, his mouth opening in vain a few times as he searched for the proper response. “I made sure you were properly aware of the risks and demands of my job before we started our relationship.” Bad answer.

“And I never complained,” you replied, a defeated tone creeping into your voice, “not once, did I?”

“If you’re going to accuse me of hypocrisy, you should recognize it in yourself. You were equally if not more in demand than I was.”

“I thought you liked that I was so ‘in demand’!” You said, the frustration growing again. “What was it you always said? You liked not having to worry about me alone at home, waiting up for you.”

“You’re coming to the station tomorrow Y/N. Final order.” Aaron repeated, completely ignoring your last statement.

“You know what,” you said, the fight in your voice gone, “I don’t have to put up with this and your lame attempts at trying to be a good guy. I’m not having this conversation anymore.” You quickly leaned over to swipe your cigarette pack and glass of the little table.

“Are you actually going to run away from this?” He asked, almost as if he was trying to bait you back into the argument.

You scoffed loudly, staring him dead in the eyes. “You did.”

You angrily walked around him, nearly stomping the entire way to the door. As you were halfway into the house you paused for a moment, not even slightly turning your head back towards him. “Blankets are still in the same spot in the living room.” You said, slamming the door behind you as soon the sentence left your lips.

-----

The next morning, promptly at 8am, an email from your agent was sent to Aaron. It was incredibly petty and inherently personal, but to an outsider it was nothing out of the ordinary for someone of your status. Aaron was near furious, as expected, but even in his stubbornness he could see you had the high ground. Long story short, the email plainly stated vaguely threatened that if your work schedule were to become an issue for the team, you could easily send a ‘spokesperson’ from your team to deal with any and all future communications. Y/N 2, Aaron Hotchner 0.

Back at your house, you were having a lovely morning. The victory tasted sweet in your mouth as you got yourself ready for the long day. Sometime around 4:00AM Reid had switched out with Aaron and the two of you were currently in your kitchen; Reid sitting at one of your countertop stools while you stood over the stove. After being angrily informed by Aaron that you wouldn’t be required to come into the station with Reid, you decided to make a simple breakfast for the two of you. Reid had wanted to leave sooner, but he was also under orders to not leave you alone until you were safely in your own car and on your way.

You weren’t sure how he felt, but you thought you and Reid got along quite well. He was the closest in age to you and even though he didn’t really seem to understand any of the little jokes or references you made, there was still some level of mutual understanding there. It didn’t hurt that he was quite easy on the eyes as well, of course he wasn’t Aaron by any means- stop that!

Over breakfast, you spent the entire time answering Reid’s many questions about various actors and actresses he was a fan of. Lucky boy, you thought; as all the people he mentioned were quite nice even when the camera was off. What was it that people said about never meeting your hero?

He graciously offered to do all the clean up, as you had cooked, which gave you a bit of extra time to make sure you were ready to go. When you both were ready and Reid had confirmed the plainclothes officer was positioned on your street, he helped you to your car.

With one hand on the top of your car, just as you were about to sit down, you stopped and turned to Reid. “I enjoyed breakfast, would you please tell Agent Hotchner how sorry I am that my schedule’s gotten in the way?” You asked, giving him your sweetest smile. It was another petty move and Aaron was sure to see right through it; the team had amazing skills at reading people, you knew that, but you were an equally talented actress. “I’ll make sure to let you guys know when I’ll be back at home tonight.” You added, before sliding into your car. Reid closed the door gently behind you, waving from the outside of your garage as you pulled out and drove off.

-----

Case wise, the next two days were quiet. You had won the ‘going to work battle’ by a longshot and happily went about your scheduled days. Aaron hadn’t taken another watch shift since the argument, something you were grateful for. It wasn’t until the fourth day, that the case started to pick up again.

“Agent Hotchner?” A young officer stepped into the conference room, holding out a thick manila envelope. “This was just dropped off at the front desk, addressed to you.” That certainly captured the entire team’s attention; every head turning, as if off on a swivel, to face the officer.

“Who dropped it off?” Hotch demanded. ‘Who dropped it off?” He repeated, an added aggression in his voice.

“Some kid! Some kid dropped it at the front and left before anyone could get a word out!” The officer said hurriedly, raising one of his hands up in a meek surrender.

Hotch stepped up to the officer, easily snatching the envelope out of his hands. “Assure that my technical analyst has access to your entire security feed. Now.” He ordered, not giving the officer as a second glance. “Morgan, call Garcia and make sure she accesses those tapes and identifies the kid immediately.”

Hotch went back to standing in front of the long table in the middle of the room, setting the envelope down in front of him. “Gloves, I need-” A pair were placed in his outstretched hand by Reid before he could finish. ��I don’t want anyone touching anything that comes out of here without gloves, understood?” He said, not looking at anyone in particular. His focus, completely drawn to the angry penmanship that spelled out his name. After quickly pulling his gloves all the way on, Hotch grabbed the envelope again, internally shoving down his emotions before ripping off the top edge in one clean pull. Nothing could have prepared him for the way the envelope was overflowing with hundreds of photos of you. He tilted the envelope and they all came falling out, covering the table in front of him. Reid mentally estimated there were over five hundred photos of you- some seemed to be cut, some looked to have writing and designs on them- and there were even a few slips of paper thrown in the mix.

“Hotch, Garcia managed to grab the plate from what the kid drove off in. She's running it-” Morgan said, his sentence running off as he took in the table full of photos. “Holy shit.” He said quietly, making his way closer to the table as well.

Hotch reached down, picking up the closest photo to him. There you were, standing on a boardwalk with your hand blocking the sun from your eyes. You looked beautiful- stop that. As Hotch further studied the photo, he picked up a second one, taking another good look. It struck Hotch and the team then, the majority of the photos were grossly intimate; as if the unsub had taken them by himself. Hotch’s stomach twisted when his eyes fell on a photo that looked like you were posing for it, throwing a big smile and peace sign up at the camera.

“Did Garcia get any hits on any scorned lovers?” Emily asked, holding up a photo of you and a man. The face and body of the man had been aggressively scratched over and cut up, but Aaron had a sinking feeling it was of him.

“Yea, I got another potential ex photo right here.” Reid said, holding up another picture. In this one you had clearly been looking up at someone, but the photo had been crudely cut up to exclude whoever it was.

Morgan held up one of the slips of papers, giving it a confused look. “You lost Aaron?” He said, reading off the paper. “What’s the reasoning for singling out Hotch rather than someone closer to her age like Reid” He questioned, not expecting anyone to answer.

“I got one of Hotch’s face scribbled over. He must’ve gotten the photo online.” Emily added, holding up a professional headshot of Hotch. “Is anyone seeing photos of the rest of us? The unsub could see all of us as interfering with his connection to Y/N.”

Hotch’s stomach was twisted in all different directions. He knew the moment of truth was coming and was internally cursing himself for not coming clean sooner. But that paled in comparison to the sickness he felt over the unsub clearly being someone who had such personal access to you. He was certain that some of these photos dates back years. The idea that whoever was doing this had been so close to you, for so long, could’ve brought him to his knees.

“Hotch…” JJ said, her voice accusatory. She looked up at him, face a mix of confusion and a hint of betrayal. She held up another photo and the entire team went quiet. This photo was clearly taken at a distance, but there you were looking lovingly up at a man who was certainly Hotch.

Hotch had one hand clenched tightly on the edge of the table, taking a deep breath before he looked up at his agents staring expectantly at him.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you all,” Hotch started, running his free hand over his face, “I met Y/N five years ago and we were together for three, until I ended things.” He was sure someone had audibly gasped at that. “I know you all may have various concerns over my proximity to the case and are valid in any anger you may feel towards me. But right now, I need to go call Y/N and make sure she’s safe.”

Hotch didn’t give anyone a chance to reply, instead whipping out his phone and near running out the door. Leaving a team of confused and shocked agents in his wake.

-----

a/n - of course, thank you all for reading. it means the world to me! also just the quickest of shoutouts to @kylorendrip and @ssahoodrathotchner who both constantly put up with my writing complaints and all the random ideas i bounce around their dms on the daily.

taglist - @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong @itsmytimetoodream @yoshigguk @28cnn @cuddlyklaus @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @yallgotkik @sunflowersandotherthings @alexrodriguez1269

no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own criminal minds or any of the character involved in it.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #hotchner x reader #hotchner x you #hotch #aaron hotchner/you #aaron hotcher/reader #'stori writes #in the stars #aaron hotchner fanfiction

146 notes · View notes

goldentournesol · 4 years

Text

The Receptionist and The Profiler (Three)

Chapter Three: Minimal Loss

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

A/N: as a heads up, a large part of this chapter is a flashback, separated by ~~~. angst of minimal loss, buckle up y’all it’s getting serious!

Some cases don’t require the whole team to go investigate. Sometimes a few members go out to consult on something and come right back. Apparently, a 911 call had been received from a 15 year old girl saying that a man was sexually assaulting her and other girls her age. The call came from inside a cult’s base and now Spencer and Emily were sent to the ranch to investigate the leader, Benjamin Cyrus. Y/N selfishly wanted to tell Hotch to send someone else in place of him, but she knew Spencer was the least intimidating of the bunch and so it made sense for him to go undercover as a child victim interview expert alongside Emily.

Y/N watched as JJ zoomed straight past her desk and stood behind Derek’s desk, “Morgan.” she said, flicking the volume button of the TV across the room, panic fighting its way through her voice.

Morgan and Y/N’s attention went straight to the news reporter on the TV, “--what is reportedly being called a routine questions and answers meeting by Colorado child services has turned into a violent and deadly standoff between Colorado authorities and a French religious group known as Separtatian sect. The raid--”

“JJ, that’s not the ranch Prentiss and Reid--” Morgan said, standing from his desk.

“They’re still inside.” JJ informed.

“HOTCH!” Morgan yelled across from the bullpen, sending panic and goosebumps to every nerve ending in Y/N’s body. All she could think was, not again, please, God, not again.

Suddenly, all the phones of the bullpen began ringing. Y/N was absolutely frozen in her seat, not even aware of the phone on her desk ringing its wire off. It was like the air was heavy and she couldn’t breathe. She was vaguely aware of JJ’s outline as she approached her and placed her hands on her shoulders.

“Y/N. Y/N!” JJ called out as if she’d been calling her name for hours already, for all she knew, she had. Y/N unexpectedly felt a salty bead of water enter her mouth through her lips, she was crying.

“JJ...not again, JJ.” She practically whimpered, shaking her head in disbelief. The blonde’s heart wrenched in her chest as she thought back to the events of Georgia.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. We’re on our way to him right now. We’re going to do our best to get them out. I need you to stay strong for me now, alright? The phone’s going to be ringing a lot, we need you here.” JJ attempted to comfort her and Y/N was quick to compose herself, nodding.

“Yes, yes, I know. I’ve got it.” She sniffled, rubbing her cheeks. JJ pulled her into a quick tight hug, well, as tight as she could with her growing belly between them. Y/N squeezed her tight, “You get him back to me safely, JJ.” She whispered and the blonde nodded before taking off with the rest of the team.

“Is she okay?” Morgan muttered to JJ as they speed walked out of the building, secretly wondering if that’s how friends should react to hostage situations.

“I’m not sure.” JJ answered honestly and the two shared a pointed look.

It was no secret that there was something going on between Y/N and Reid, they knew they held intense feelings for each other, however the team decided to stay out of it...for the most part. Derek, on the other hand, was very good at not missing opportunities to mess with Reid and tease the hell out of him.

It took Spencer a while to get back on his feet, especially after Gideon had departed, but Y/N helped him every step of the way. She drove him to NA meetings whenever she could. She helped him take his mind of things when he was having cravings. She finally, finally agreed to learn how to play chess, even though she was positive she was destined to lose. She’ll never forget how excited he got when she’d offered.

~~~

“Wait--what?” Spencer stopped mid-sip from his morning coffee. The team hadn’t filed in yet, but he was hanging around her desk like he usually did when she told him.

“Yup, you heard me. I’ll let you finally teach me how to play.” Her eyes twinkled with playfulness and he could have sworn his heart swelled twice its size. He was aware that he was gaping at her, but for some reason he couldn’t stop. The thought of sitting across from her so closely and for so long as he tried to teach her the moves was enough to make him forget his words.

“Hello? Earth to Spencer?” She laughed, waving a hand in front of his face. He snapped out of it, blushing.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll teach you! We’re going to have so much fun!” He exclaimed, his face practically splitting in half from his grin. She was about to make a comment about how it wouldn’t be so fun to lose to him (the whole point of not wanting to learn it in the first place), but she decided the genuine excitement on his face was worth more than winning ever would be.

~~~

She also remembered him practically fangirling to her over David Rossi’s books. He was so excited when the other founder of the BAU joined the team in place of Gideon. Of course, Spencer had read all his books and was more than ready to recite them to her if she wanted him to but she preferred to keep the crime and the gore at a minimum, preferring to hear about Victorian love stories and obscure children’s stories that are told in African villages she’d never heard of before. Rossi was a fairly nice man, much warmer than Gideon but was still somewhat cagey upon joining the team. She didn’t really blame him, he’d left the job only to come back to it years later and find a bunch of younger hotshot agents in the unit he created. At least Rossi took the time to learn her name and smile at her in the mornings.

Sometimes he’d sit and watch the two interact from his office. He’d assumed they were together when he’d first joined the team, almost a year ago now. Seeing how they leaned into each other when they spoke and maintained such intense eye contact, it just made sense to him. That and the fact that he’d noticed the way Reid was so much more comfortable around her than he was with his team mates. He’d note the not-so-subtle lingering hand touches on arms and the way they chose not to move their knees away from each other if they bumped. But, most of all, what he thought was a dead giveaway, was the way they smiled at each other; they smiled with their whole faces. Spencer’s mood seemed to brighten around her and even though he hadn’t known the young genius for long, he knew that that was a good sign. If he hadn’t seen Y/N and Anderson getting in the same car together, he’d never have guessed that they were together, much less engaged. You don’t need to be a profiler to know what the longing glances across the bullpen meant, though. Or the sad eyes she gave him every time he left for a case. Or the hug she gave that was obviously tighter than anyone else’s when they came back.

Hopefully, he’ll come back this time.

Y/N was practically a mess at her desk after they all left. She was glad that Anderson was currently not around, then she remembered she should be wanting his presence. That is...assuming he brought her comfort. He didn’t. She took calls to try and distract herself from her panic but she found herself freaking out in between them. Her eyes traveled to the far corner of her desk where the book she was currently reading sat. She smiled as she saw the tassel fall from in between the pages of the book. The book felt heavy as she opened it, she slipped the bookmark from in between the pages, and pushed the book aside. The raised letters of her favorite poem felt familiar as her fingertips touched them. She touched the words as if they could seep into her bloodstream and finally calm her. She remembered the day he gave her the bookmark.

~~~

After years and years of participating in the office Secret Santa, Spencer finally got Y/N. He was overjoyed, in fact, he couldn’t wait to give her her gift. He had it meticulously planned out. He was ready. He poured out his heart and soul in a letter first (this took the longest). Turns out, confessing your undying love for someone wasn’t as easy as it looked on screen. With all the letters he’d written in his lifetime, he was positive this one would be no different. But, man, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Then, he made the bookmark. Store bought would never impress her. He struggled with finding the right kind of paper and the right kind of string for the tassel, but thankfully Garcia had his back. She even helped him laminate it so it could last, for years and years. The way he wanted to last with her. He printed the words of her favorite poem. One that he’d never forget, and not even because of his eidetic memory. He chose a shiny gold string to represent the strings of fate. He had told her once the ancient Greek myth of the Moirai, the three women responsible for fate. Although he’d gone in way too great of detail, she hung onto every word. He knew she’d remember the story whenever she saw the gold string. He hoped she might pick up on what he was trying to say.

That fate would always bring them together.

That he knew that she was it for him, but if he wasn’t it for her, that’d be okay, too.

She’d also complained all too often about the nasty coffee at work, claiming that she wished she never tasted the “vile bean juice”. It was enough to shift her off of coffee completely, unless it was from the coffee shop on the corner of Spencer’s street (he took her there a lot and he liked to bring her her favorite drink in the mornings when he wasn’t rushing in). But she’d recently gotten into teas, and was annoyed at her teapot at home because she said it just tasted weird. So of course, he researched the best kind of teapot possible and hunted every single kitchenware store in DC down until he found it. She’s gonna love it.

To top it all off, he decided to get her a necklace. While looking for the teapot, a small silver necklace caught his eye in one of the shops. A small birthstone hung by two chains, he recognized it as her own, and it was perfect.

He placed the gifts and the letter inside the teapot carefully and placed two pieces of tape to ensure the top doesn’t come off in the box before making his way to Garcia’s apartment. It was really no surprise she decided to host the Christmas party, considering her love of all things Christmas. He was buzzing with nervous energy as he set the gift box under the tree. He was the first to arrive, which meant he had to endure Garcia’s endless questions about the finished gift. She pried it all out of him, even the letter. Garcia was practically jumping up and down as he told her about the contents of the letter. He didn’t know he and Y/N were such a hot topic around the office. A few minutes later, the team flowed in, one by one. Y/N and Anderson were the last to arrive.

But something felt different as they entered the apartment. Her smile was brighter than usual and she seemed extra comfortable around her fiance. He thought maybe he was reading into it too much, but then even Emily noticed.

“Woah, Y/N! You look literally radiant, what’s going on?” She asked as the couple struggled to find places to sit. Anderson found a seat on the couch and offered her his lap. Spencer watched as she blushed and pursed her lips shyly, leaning into her fiancé as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Spencer practically had a nervous ugly green creature growing inside of him. He’s decided to name him Carl. Might as well name him, you know, since he seemed to be around a lot lately. He shifted in his seat a little, which made Morgan glance over at him.

“Well, we were going to wait until later to tell everyone, but I guess that’s the downside to being friends with profilers.” She laughed and shared a look with Anderson, whose hand was grasped tightly in hers.

Spencer noticed her change in vocabulary, she said ‘we’ instead of ‘I’. He grew more and more nervous as the pause lengthened. He had to physically put his hands on his knees to keep them from bouncing.

“We finally set the date! Next August!” She exclaimed and Spencer’s heart absolutely combusted in the same exact moment.

He immediately drowned out the cheers of congratulations and kisses on cheeks. The sinking feeling in his chest seemed to strive for more. More destruction.

He was vaguely aware of Morgan grabbing his shoulder and giving him a pointed look, reminding him of his silence. Morgan felt bad for the kid, but didn’t want to embarrass Y/N. Spencer snapped out of his trance and swallowed heavily.

“Congratulations, guys.” He mustered a smile and she beamed at him.

“Thanks, Spence!” He barely registered it.

It was finally happening.

The wedding.

And he’d have to go.

And see her.

And smile at her like his heart hadn’t been ripped from his chest and placed at the altar for everyone to see as it beat for absolutely no reason.

Seriously, what was the point of his heart beating if it wasn’t beating for her?

Except, he knew it’ll always beat for her, even if she didn’t want it.

He’d have to watch her marry another man.

Watch as she walked away from him rather than toward him.

Everyone pretended not to look at Spencer but he could feel the glances anyway.

Oh no.

The letter.

The letter that was in the teapot under the tree!

Spencer didn’t know his heart was capable of beating as fast as it was. He sent a panicked look to Penelope, hoping she’d get the message, but she was too busy coming up with wedding ideas. Spencer could feel panic oozing out of the pores of his skin. Morgan took him aside and into the kitchen.

“Kid, you alright?” Morgan asked, watching as his younger teammate squirmed in the kitchen.

“This is bad, Morgan. This is bad.” Spencer paced around the kitchen, hands in his hair.

“I know, kid, I know. But you need to calm down.” Morgan tried to reason with him.

“No, Morgan! You don’t understand!” Spencer whisper-yelled as he gripped his shoulders and Morgan saw his wild eyes, “You don’t understand! The letter!”

Morgan steadied Spencer, “Reid, breathe. What letter?”

“I’m her secret Santa. I wrote her a letter, Morgan. I wrote her a letter, a letter which contains very sensitive information that she cannot read right now--o-or ever!” Spencer’s hands flew to his hair again and Morgan had to think quickly.

“Okay, okay. I’ll help you, we need to think of a way to get the letter out of the box.”

“Morgan, it’s inside the teapot-- which is taped shut by the way-- inside the box, under the tree!” He flailed around nervously.

“Damn, man. Okay, just follow my lead. When she opens her gift, I’ll distract her and Anderson and you have to get that letter out.”

Spencer nodded and when they joined the rest of them outside, people were already opening their gifts, one by one. Spencer waited anxiously as she began to unwrap her gift.

“Oooh, I’m excited!” She said, carefully unwrapping the wrapping paper and opening the box, still seated on Anderson’s lap. She gasped, “It’s a teapot!”

Spencer grimaced as he watched Morgan fake a trip and spill his drink all over Anderson’s shirt, getting some on Y/N’s back.

“Shit, man! I’m so sorry!” Morgan glanced at Spencer and Spencer jumped into action as the couple were distracted by the spilled drink. He quickly unstuck the tape on the teapot and lifted the lid enough to squeeze his hand through to remove the letter. He stashed it away in the pocket of his cardigan. In fact, he planned on burning it when he got home. He successfully restored the gift to how it was before they returned from the bathroom.

“No one says a word.” Reid warned the rest of the group, who were watching the whole debacle like it was a spectacle. They all undoubtedly figured out what was written in that letter, therefore they understood and nodded.

“Not a peep.” Garcia said, locking her lips with an imaginary key.

“Anyway! Now that that’s all sorted out. Back to the teapot.” Y/N came back to her gift and her seating arrangement.

“Um, you should...you should look inside. There’s um, bonus gifts.” Spencer was absolutely beet-red in the face.

But Y/N knew the gift was from Spencer the second she saw the wrapping paper, which was full of adorable snowmen dressed in Christmas clothing. She grinned, remembering the argument between them which started by her telling him how cute she thought snowmen wearing clothes was and him getting frustrated trying to explain to her how snowmen wouldn’t need protection from the cold. She opened up the teapot and pulled out the bookmark. Spencer watched her eyes soften as they roamed over the words of her favorite poem. She toyed with the gold string of the bookmark as she reached into the pot again and pulled out the small pouch that contained the necklace. She pulled it out and gasped.

“Oh, Spencer, it’s all so perfect. Thank you.” She moved the gifts aside and wrapped him in a hug. Spencer stopped listening to the persistent ache in his chest as he hugged her back. He let all his senses be consumed by her, just temporarily. He found peace in that moment and he tried his hardest to hold onto that peace as he watched her fiancé clip the necklace onto her neck.

Oh, what he’d give to be in Anderson’s place.

~~~

She smiled at the memory the bookmark brought. She found her fingers weaving themselves through the gold strings gingerly. That seemed to calm her nerves enough for now. Garcia had convinced her to go home finally after promising to call her and let her know if anything changed.

2 days.

It was 2 days before she heard any news. She had been cooped up with Garcia in her batcave for emotional support. Also she wanted to know about any advancements as soon as possible. Garcia and Y/N were currently watching a live feed from some news channel.

“Damn, how did he know there were FBI agents in there? Word travels--” Garcia began but the explosion on screen cut her off. Y/N stood up from her seat abruptly.

“What was that?! Garcia, was that the ranch?!” Y/N all but screamed with panic, “Penelope! Answer me!” Garcia’s stunned face was paired with teary eyes as she turned to look at Y/N. Garcia frantically called Hotch and Rossi, but no one answered.

“No, no, no. NO! This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening, Penelope. Are we sure Spencer and Emily were still inside?” Y/N’s voice wavered as she held her hands to her chest in disbelief. Garcia shrugged honestly and wordlessly.

“NO!” She began sobbing uncontrollably, falling to her knees, mumbling nearly incoherently, “I never got to tell him...I never got to tell him.”

Garcia fell to the floor, holding the sobbing woman as best as she could without falling apart herself. Y/N gripped her tight as she felt the walls closing in on her. Her chest felt tight and she suddenly felt as if the air was ripped from her lungs. She could hear strangled sobs, but wasn’t even registering that they were her own.

It was too late.

She’d never see his smiling hazel eyes again. She’d never hear his hearty laugh once more. She never told him. She never told him how deeply her love for him ran. What was she waiting for? She’d waited too long. How utterly stupid of her. And now there’s no chance. He’s gone...he’s pulverized into bits and pieces--

The phone rang and Garcia leapt to it ungracefully, “Sir?! Reid and Prentiss--”

“They’re okay, Garcia. They made it out in time. With Morgan.” Hotch said sternly.

“Morgan was in there?!” Garcia screamed into the phone.

“Yeah, but I’m alright, babygirl, don’t you worry ‘bout me.” Morgan’s silky voice was heard from farther away. Garcia was about to reply when Y/N snatched the phone from her.

“Spencer?! Spence, are you there? Are you okay?!” She half-sobbed into the phone, not wanting her voice to give her away completely.

“Yes, yeah, I’m here. I’m alive.” Spencer choked out, relief flooding her system as she heard his voice. He was very much still alive and breathing, albeit with difficulty. Y/N didn’t register the rest of the conversation between Hotch and Garcia. She lay back in her seat and buried her face in her hands, trying to control her breathing. Garcia hung up and rested a kind hand onto her shoulder.

“Whew, that was a close one.” She said with a small smile. Y/N took her hands off her face and met with her warm eyes, “You know you’ll have to tell him eventually.” Y/N froze in her place again. She suddenly avoided her friend’s gaze. She was really hoping she hadn’t caught onto that. “It’s okay, pumpkin, we can all see it.”

She was right, oh my God, she was right.

“No, I don’t--I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re wrong, whatever you think you know, you’re wrong.” Y/N felt bad saying those words but there was nothing else she could do to protect herself. Garcia stayed silent, but gave her a look that shook Y/N at her very core.

Later, on the jet, Morgan took a seat next to Reid and stared at him intently before speaking.

“So, a little birdie tells me your girl was pretty heartbroken…” He trailed off, but not without an obvious wiggle of his dark brows.

“Morgan, for the last time, she is not ‘my girl’, she is engaged. She is very much someone else’s girl.” Reid rolled his eyes, attention going back to his book, although he tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered at the thought. He didn’t know if his heart was fluttering because of what Morgan called her, or because she was so torn up about the thought of him dying. He knew he shouldn’t ever feel good about someone else’s pain, but what did her pain mean?

“So what? Engaged ain’t married, pretty boy.” Morgan shrugged, saying it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Spencer shook his head at his friend.

Back in the bullpen, Y/N waited for their arrival ever so anxiously by the glass doors across from the elevator. She was rolling onto the balls of her feet and bouncing with anticipation. It didn’t even matter that it was half past 3 in the morning. She had to see him.

The ding of the elevator was the most comforting noise she’d heard in about a week. There he was, way in the back of the elevator, lifting his gaze from the floor to meet with hers. They both broke into the largest grins they’ve ever seen. She practically pushed Morgan out of her speedy way as he stepped off the elevator and slammed into Spencer with enough force to knock the air out of the both of their chests. Spencer caught her gladly and spun her around, laughing.

“I thought I lost you.” Y/N whispered into the embrace.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Spencer replied softly into her hair.

The team all watched the reunion, adoration clear on their faces.

Emily was caught mumbling, “Damn, I wish I had someone to greet me like that after almost dying.” This, of course, resulted in a full blown bear hug from Garcia.

previous chapter/next chapter

feedback is always appreciated!

taglist: @hopefulfangirl24 @spoiledtunaprincess @ellvswriting @drreidshands @pumpkin-reads @ssa-pretty-boy @thebadassbitchqueen @youareperrrfectls @literaila @greeny-kitten @reidcm @holytrashvoidpersona @hopebaker @word-scribbless @fellintotartarus @criminalmindzjunkie @jpegjade @randomfandomshitposts @differentkettleoffishalltogether @ssa-pretty-boy @imjusthereformggcontent @ confused-and-really-hungry

COMMENT ON THE CHAPTERS/SEND ASKS TO BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #cm #spencer reid masterlist #the receptionist and the profiler #spencer reid series

388 notes · View notes

t0wnspersonb · 4 years

Text

Train Rides and Confessions (Akaashi Keiji x Reader)

Akaashi is my husband. I love all the Haikyuu boys, but this beautiful man has my entire fucking heart. Who gave him the right to be so beautiful? It’s so not fair. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy!

Word Count: 2,394

Warnings: slight angst, uncomfortable situations, Akaashi being a beautiful and heroic man, Bokuto being Bokuto, all the fluff.

~~~~~~~~

You sighed softly, shaking your head at Bokuto’s antics. You were currently in the gymnasium, waiting for the boy’s volleyball practice to end.

You had met the volleyball team on pure accident. Bokuto had literally ran you down during one of their runs. After many apologies being exchanged you all had actually started talking, and from then on it was history.

Your art club always ran late, and coincidentally it was around the same time that the volleyball club ended their practice. Even more of a coincidence that you took the same train ride home as the third years and a certain setter that you had begun developing a crush on.

Sometimes the art club would end a little early, so you would sit in on one of their practices and wait until it was over, like today.

You were incredibly quiet and tried to stay out of the way, which no one minded. In fact, it made Bokuto work harder, wanting to show you how “cool your senpai is.”

“Y/n-san, we just need to change and we’ll be ready to leave in a minute. Sorry for making you wait so long.” Akaashi said, wiping his face down with a towel.

You shook your head, “It’s fine Akaashi-san, I wasn’t waiting long. Besides, I enjoy watching you guys practice. It looks like a lot of fun.” you smiled sweetly at him.

He stared at you with his gunmetal eyes, he took in the gentle expression on your face, his heart rate increasing slightly. His eyes zeroed in on the charcoal smudged across your cheek. Without even thinking about it, he cupped your face slightly, his thumb rubbing against the mark until it disappeared.

You both froze.

Your face burned red at his gentle touch, his hand was rough - probably from the many hours of volleyball practice - and it was incredibly warm.

But all too soon he pulled his touch away in embarrassment, looking away from your face and fighting down his own blush.

“Sorry, you had something on your face.” he said quietly, his other hand fidgeting with the fingers that were on your face.

“O-Oh. I’m sorry,” you said quietly rubbing at the same spot on your cheek. “We were working with charcoal portraits today, I must’ve touched my face by accident.”

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye; taking in your shy demeanor and blushing face.

Cute, he thought. “No worries, we’ll meet you in front of the gym.” he said nodding, before jogging off to join his teammates.

You released the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, pressing a hand against your racing heart. It felt like it was about to burst out of your chest.

You weren’t expecting an interaction like that. A soft smile grazed your lips and you giggled to yourself quietly, pressing your hands against your blushing cheeks, shaking your head slightly in a daze.

You were head over heels for that quieter setter. Akaashi Keiji was probably the most beautiful and intelligent man you had ever met, and he was kind too.

You weren’t exactly sure when your crush on him had developed, but as you had continued hanging out with the team, one day you had looked at him in a different light.

And soon your sketchbook was full of images of him. Of course it was filled with other images as well, you had sketched the boys a lot during long practices or during lunch, even games.

But there were more portraits of Akaashi than you could count.

Shaking your head again, you begin to make your way out of the gym, not taking notice to the two managers staring after you.

“Should we tell them?” Suzumeda mused. It was so obvious the crush you two had on each other.

“Nah, let’s see what happens.” Shirofuku laughed.

****

It didn’t take long for the guys to finish changing, Bokuto immediately taking sight of you and flinging his arm around your shoulder. “Hey, hey, hey! Did you see that awesome straight your cool senpai did!?”

“Um…”

“Y/n-san doesn’t know volleyball terms yet Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said walking up beside you. “She’s still learning them. And it wasn’t very awesome, you got shut down.”

“AKAASHI.” Bokuto grumbled pouting. “You’re not supposed to say stuff like that!”

Everyone seemingly ignored their captain, causing him to deflate even more.

“I thought you played really well senpai. You always look like you’re having fun.” you said smiling at the sad third year.

“Don’t encourage him Y/n-chan. You also don’t have to call him senpai.” Konoha sighed.

Bokuto ignored his teammate completely and beamed at your words. “I am the best!” he boosted, laughing loudly.

“Bokuto-san lower your voice, you’re disturbing other people.” Akaashi said, watching the bystanders looking at Bokuto in bewilderment as you guys waited.

“Akaashi -” Bokuto started but was cut short by the second year pushing him to the open doors of the train, everyone else following after him.

The train was unusually packed tonight. You clutched your bag to your chest, not wanting to take up too much space. Somehow you and the rest of the boys had gotten separated, you were too small to search for them, so you opted for staying right where you were. You had gotten jostled towards the back of the train, near one of the walls.

Being mindful of your surroundings, you carefully took out your phone to text one of the boys. You felt something brush against the edge of your skirt, but you ignored it, thinking that the person behind you was trying to get in a better position. It was incredibly packed.

But then you felt fingers grazing the exposed skin of your legs. You flinched hard and shuffled more towards the wall, trying to put some kind of space between you and whoever it was behind you.

But the person followed. It was a man slightly older than you, and you could tell he was nothing but trouble as he all but crowded you into the corner of the train.

You could feel your heart hammering in your chest as you looked frantically for a way to escape this situation.

This has never happened to you before, you could feel panic rising in your gut and tears stinging your eyes as the man grabbed your waist, pressing up against you.

“P-Please stop it.” you spluttered out.

“You’re a pretty little thing.” he cooed, you could feel his hands beginning to slide up to your chest.

You squeezed your eyes shut. No one was paying attention. No one was going to help you -

“Y/n-san.” Strong, slim fingers grabbed your wrist, you looked towards your left and relief flooded into you as you stared back at gunmetal eyes. Akaashi gripped your wrist and tugged, you were ripped away from the man’s grasp and into the chest of the second year.

Akaashi’s hand rested on your upper back as you buried your face into the front of his school uniform, clinging tightly to his blazer.

His gaze was piercing as he stared intensely at the assaulter. Akaashi could feel you trembling against him, causing his blood to boil even further.

“You little -”

“I suggest that you get off at this upcoming stop before I call the police.” he said coldly, cutting off the man.

The man scowled and looked around himself at the other people before mumbling curses under his breath and walking off the train, only to be confronted by two police officers.

“I had already contacted the police.” Akaashi said quietly, carefully maneuvering you guys around as more people shuffled onto the train. You were once again pressed against the corner of the train, but this time the man that held you close had your heart racing for a completely different reason.

“Are you okay?” he murmured softly, peering down at you in clear worry, taking notice to the tears that were still gathered at the corner of your eyes.

“Y-Yeah. You got here just in time. Thank you Akaashi-san.” you said shakily, your grip on his blazer tightening.

His eyes softened. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. You must’ve been really scared.”

“Terrified.” you corrected, the tightness in your body finally easing up. “Where is everyone else?”

“Bokuto-san was with me when we started trying to find everyone. And then I saw you and -” Akaashi shook his head, trying to get the image of the position you were in out of his mind.

You nodded and then a slight awkwardness fell between you two as you began to realize the position you were in.

Your back was against the train wall, Akaashi had his hands placed on the wall on both sides of your head, trying to keep some kind of space between your bodies. You could feel the heat of his body, and the softness of his breath.

More people began to shuffle into the train, pushing Akaashi further into you. Your face was incredibly close to his chest again, and you hadn’t realized how short you were compared to the setter until now.

His shirt brushed against your nose and you could smell the faint scent of him, some kind of cologne, the fresh scent of detergent, and sweat from his volleyball practice earlier.

He smelled good.

Your face flushed at the thought, and you swallowed thickly. Could someone die of embarrassment? It felt like you could.

“I’m sorry.” he said quietly, “just bare with me for a little longer.” Akaashi said, realizing this might not be the most comfortable thing in the world, especially considering what you had gone through just moments ago.

He could smell the soft scent of your shampoo as you guys swayed together as the train moved, he could feel the softness of your body as you pressed incredibly close to him. Akaashi was biting down the blush that wanted to cover his cheeks, he vaguely wondered if you could feel his pounding heart.

He had never been so close to you before, and he would never admit out loud, but he was enjoying every second of this.

He couldn’t help but wonder if you felt the same way about him. Akaashi remembered the exact moment his crush on you began to develop. It was when you were showing everyone the sketch you had drawn during one of their practices.

It was incredible, he had never seen someone draw so well before, and the way you had captured each emotion of his teammates; well that was just pure talent right there. But what captivated him the most, was your expression as you showed everyone your work. The way your eyes lit up as you explained the techniques you had used to create the image.

Akaashi adored how passionate you were about art, he thought it was the cutest thing seeing you go on and on about it all. Your eyes and smile getting brighter and brighter each time.

You were truly beautiful in his eyes.

He had thought the small crush on you would go away, but it lingered, and got stronger and stronger the more you guys were around each other.

He would lay awake at night thinking about you, wondering if you knew, and wondering if you felt the same way.

And little to his knowledge you did.

You admired Akaashi, that much was true. He was the type of person you always wanted to be around, he was the type of person you wanted approval from.

“Y/n-san.” Akaashi said suddenly, peering down at you with a serious expression on his face, and a slight shyness you’ve never seen before. “I - I need to tell you something. Before you hear it from someone else.”

Akaashi knew that his teammates knew about his crush on you, he was worried that they would say something before he had the guts to say it himself. But now… now he thought was the perfect time, it was just you and him, his teammates that were often around you guys were nowhere to be seen now.

He could do it.

He wanted to. Before it was too late. He didn’t care if you didn’t share the same feelings as him, he wanted to get it all off his chest already.

“I like you.” he said simply, staring at your face intently.

You felt like your heart had just stopped beating.

He confessed to you.

He liked you.

Akaashi liked you.

Akaashi Keiji liked you.

This beautiful setter had feelings for you.

Akaashi watched as so many emotions ghosted across your face, doubt settling into his stomach, twisting unpleasantly.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he should’ve - “I like you too.” you blurted out, your eyes wide and bright, face flushed.

Akaashi was taken back, his lips parting in amazement, and then his face began to burn as he finally registered what you had said to him.

“R-Really?” he asked quietly.

You nodded your head rapidly, ignoring the redness in your face as you peered up at him. “I like you a lot Akaashi-san, I have for a while now.” you confessed.

He stared at you for a moment before a soft smile grazed his lips. “That’s a relief, I was worried for a second.”

Before you could say anything else you both had realized that your stop was finally here. Akaashi grabbed your hand, slipping his fingers through yours as you guys stepped out of the train and onto the platform, tugging you along with him as you guys went to the group of boys standing together, waiting for you.

The third years zeroed in on your guys’ intertwined hands, wide grins appearing on their faces.

“Well, well, well, look who finally confessed.” Komi teased, watching as your face turned bright red, a small blush coating Akaashi’s face as he looked away, scratching at his cheek.

“You guys are finally a couple now?” Konoha chimed in. “Look at Y/n-chan’s face, it’s so red!”

Akaashi scowled softly, “Leave her alone. But… yeah. I still have to take her on a proper date.” he glanced at you from the corner of his eye, smiling slightly.

“Akaashi! I want to go too!” Bokuto chimed in loudly. “Let’s go to the aquarium!”

Everyone ignored the owl-headed captain as you guys began walking home.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #akaashi keiji #akaashi x you #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #reader insert #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi keiji x you #requests are welcome #fluff #haikyuu fluff #akaashi haikyuu #haikyū!!#fukurodani #pretty setter squad

978 notes · View notes

jimlingss · 4 years

Text

Sugar and Coffee [18]

Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 18.5 OR Chapter 19

➜ Words: 4.5k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

It’s funny how things come and go in life. The longer you live and the more things you experience, you realize just how fickle living can be. The events that you anticipate the most come and go while the ones you dread linger. The people you expect to stay with you leave — and the people you expect to leave end up staying. Similarly, the internship that you had been so worried and excited for was finally finished. It was sad to say goodbye and to leave the shop behind. You genuinely loved being there, learning and spending your time perfecting your craft. Even bratty Yuna was sad to bid you farewell — the two of you had grown fond of each other over the months, so you sent her a card right when you got home yourself and you heard from Namjoon that she had pinned it on her wall. Luckily, you knew that this goodbye wouldn’t be a permanent one. It was different to other goodbyes you’ve had in the past. Namjoon and Sejeong assured both you and Jungkook a million times that it was only temporary — that they’d be happy to hire you back after your schooling is finished if you so happened to choose to work for them again. And it’s a proposition that still interests you greatly. You’re not sure what Jungkook wants to do — but you know you’d love to return and continue making wedding cakes under their mentorship someday. But for now you had to return on your path. The end of Summer was quickly approaching, and you find yourself coming back to where it started. Well. Sort of. In actuality, you were standing on Jungkook’s parents’ doorstep. Suitcase in hand. Full of hesitance and uncertainty. Fingers kept away from the doorbell. You’re not sure if this is a place that would welcome you again. But Jungkook had insisted. He pressed on, insisting that you should visit his family again, to at least come see him for a few days with the Summer that remained left. He whined about how much he missed you. And you had to admit, you missed him too. So here you were, like a complete idio— “God, okay! I’m throwing out the trash now!” The door opens. The boy freezes. He stares at you with rounded eyes as you stare back at him. He’s dressed in a worn t-shirt and gym shorts, flopping hair sticking out in all directions like he just woke up even though it’s well past noon. One hand is on the handle, the other is holding a black garbage bag. Slowly the corner of your mouth quirks. “Hi.” A stupidly big grin plasters across Jungkook’s face and spreads into his cheeks as his eyes light up with mirth. Jungkook’s voice softens. “When’d you get here?” “Just now.” He drops the garbage and is about to come and hug you, but something shoots out from between his legs to engulf you in a tight embrace instead. “Y/N!” Eunbi’s summer dress flutters in the breeze and you lift her up as best as you can with a smile. Lia follows quickly behind, wearing a big smile and she turns over her shoulder. “Y/N’s here!” “She’s here?” Someone comes stumbling from the kitchen, throwing her kitchen towel aside. Jungkook’s dad comes out from the backyard, having heard the ruckus. “She’s here.” “She’s here!” Eunbi repeats in giggles and your arms widen when Lia joins in greeting you with a hug. Jungkook sighs wistfully, separated from you by his overbearing family members. Yet, all the worries you had about being welcomed or not instantly vanishes. They greet you warmly — Jungkook’s dad asking how you’ve been, how exams and classes and the internship was. You’re bombarded with curious questions and enthusiastic answers, only spared when Jungkook’s mom pulls you to the kitchen where she has a whole countertop of food prepared. She wasn’t sure what you liked to eat, so she made everything she could when she heard you were coming and you can’t find it in your heart to reject her hard efforts. So you consume as much as you can before Eunbi tugs you aside to join her tea party with Lia. You find out their parents have gone for a last-minute trip, so they’ve been staying at their aunt’s and uncle’s, obviously having a blast by the looks of it, especially now with you here. It’s only when Jungkook turns on a Disney movie and makes them sit down to watch that he’s finally able to sneak you away. “Sorry about that.” He shuts the door to his room, sighing at how difficult it was to get a hold of you in his own house. “It’s okay. I love your family.” “That makes one of us,” Jungkook mutters and sulks. “You try spending twenty four hours a day seven days a week with them and see how they can drive you nuts.” “Aww, poor baby. Your family cares about you, how horrible.” Your voice drips of sarcasm and you feign sympathy, reaching over to pat him on the back. Jungkook scoffs but takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you. He leans down enough to accommodate for the height difference and he props his chin on your shoulder. His nose digs into your hair, breathing in. You’re ticklish from his grip. “Jungkook…” “I missed you.” “It’s only been what?” You rest your head on his shoulder, giving into his warmth. “Two weeks?” “Long enough.” “School starts in another week. If I didn’t come, you still would’ve seen me.” “Yeah, but what if I died before then and couldn’t see you ever again?” he whines and it’s hard to resist the small smile tugging at your lips. But you manage to pull away from him and roll your eyes. “You’re so dramatic.” The boy grins and takes a seat on his chair by his old computer desk while you plop down onto the edge of his bed. “So….what have you been up to?” “You act like we haven’t called and texted each other every single day.” “Yeah, but I don’t know what the trip was like up here.” “Fair enough,” you hum. “I guess all that really happened is that I sat next to this really handsome man on the bus here who shared my interests and hobbies. And we had a hot, passionate summer fling and we decided to make this a long-term thing, so we’re getting married. Sorry to say, Jeon, but you’ve lost your chance.” You laugh and his eye twitches. In an instant, you’re being pinned to his mattress with Jungkook hovering above you. His knee wedges between your legs, hands pressed flat next to your head. The dark strands of his hair grazes against your forehead and you sink deeper into his pillows. But even in such a compromising position, you can’t help but muse how cute he looks feigning anger like this. “I’m trying to be nice here, but you’re always testing my patience, brat. You really think I won’t kill you one day?” “You wouldn’t.” You quirk your head to the side, hands grasping at his forearms. Your eyes glimmer with a challenge before they flicker up to the posters lining his wall. “Not with IU watching.” He grins, a small laugh coming from his nose. “Jieun would understand.” You snort and he helps you sit up. “Do your parents know…?” “No. Otherwise, you’d be on the phone with my grandma right now. They’re overbearing enough as it is.” You nod. “They don’t think it’s weird that I’m here?” “No.” Jungkook scoffs. “God, they love you. Isn’t it obvious? They think you’re a ‘good influence’ on me. Better than Taehyung and Jimin are, at least. Those two are just idiots no matter where they go, so my parents are always concerned that all of us will get into fender benders.” He uses air quotes when he says ‘good influence’ and you bat his arm. “I am a good influence on you.” “Uh-huh.” Jungkook eyes you skeptically. “They should see you when you get mad—” “I don’t get mad.” “—and when you start swearing. Or the amount of dirty, dirty things you can say…” “Jungkook,” your whine tapers off when he suddenly lays a hand on your upper thigh. Jungkook’s half-lidded eyes and heavy gaze flickers down to your lips. He starts to lean in, head angling and your breath catches in your throat in eager anticipation. Your eyes flutter shut. But you never feel the velvet texture of Jungkook’s lips against yours. Instead, there’s a loud knock that startles you both to death. Then, the door opens. And the boy, whose lap you were nearly perched on, is already back on his desk chair, whirling around. “Hey, Y/N.” Jungkook’s dad is smiling wide. “What are you guys up to?” “We’re just talking,” his son deadpans. “Is there something you need?” “Nope.” The middle-aged man who uncannily has Jungkook’s eyes leans on the doorframe with arms crossed casually. “Just thought I’d pop by, see what’s going on, let you know your mom thinks you two can bring Lia and Eunbi into town to pick up some groceries….” “Okay. We can do that later.” There’s a terrible, awkward silence as Jungkook’s dad hangs around. It makes the younger frown. “Is there something wrong?” “No.” He shakes his head, slowly starting to turn away before Jungkook dies in modification. But then he stops and looks back with a smile playing at his lips. “You guys should keep the door open though. House policy. Not mine but your mother’s. You know...she doesn’t want any funny business happening.” “Dad.” “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.” His hands are lifted up in the air and he laughs it off. The older man pushes the door so it’s wide open and then waltzes away. Jungkook’s sigh is long enough to empty out his lungs and you giggle at their interaction. The walk to town is lovely. The end of Summer keeps the weather from sweltering or being uncomfortable. It’s warm with a brisk wind kissing against your cheeks. You consider just how cozy this town is, small houses and big lawns, white picket fences and scalloped shingle rooftops. The grocery store is modest too and several people greet Jungkook when he enters, asking how he’s been and if you're someone special to him. It’s a place where everyone knows everyone and it’s cute. You never considered Jungkook to be a small town boy, but it’s somehow fitting. “We need to get apples, cucumbers, scallions….” He flips over the list, trying to discern his mom’s chicken scratch as he pushes the shopping cart. “Uh…..that either says potatoes or tomatoes.” “Can we get this?!” Eunbi holds up a box bigger than her body. The doll inside is smiling. Jungkook doesn’t even glance at it. “No.” “Awww.” The four of you walk down the cereal aisle and Jungkook stops for a detour. He picks two to compare and concentrates too hard for such a menial task. “I didn’t know cereal was on our list,” you say while peeking over his shoulder. “I like cereal,” he mumbles. In spite of taking a full minute on deliberating what brand he wants, Jungkook ends up settling for both. He places them into the cart and continues pushing it down the aisle while humming. You keep a watch on Eunbi in the meanwhile to make sure she doesn’t get lost, but soon Lia comes back with something in hand. “Y/N, can we please make this together?” The seven year old has a bright, red box of chewy fudge brownie mix. Automatically, you and Jungkook’s faces twist in abhorrent disgust. “It says we just need...egg, water, and oil!” she reads off of it proudly. “No, we don’t need a box to make brownies,” you coax with a smile. “We can make it fresher. A few more steps and it’ll taste worlds better than the box.” “Really?” “Really.” “Yay!” Eunbi’s loudly cheering in the middle of the grocery store, arms in the air and hopping up and down. “We get brownies!” “What’s even in here?” Jungkook takes the box and flips it around. His eyes narrow in on the tiny letters of the ingredient list. “Sugar, enriched bleached wheat flour? What’s carrageenan? Pft, artificial flavour?” He arrogantly tosses it aside. “We don’t need that. We’re professionals.” You snort. “Uh-huh. A professional who doesn’t even know how to make a moist cake.” “At least I can temper chocolate,” he bites back without skipping a beat — without blinking or taking a breath. When Jungkook sees your shocked expression, he laughs heartily and throws an arm over your shoulder, nuzzling into you. “I’m kidding. Kidding.” You scoff, throw his arm off of you. “No, you aren’t.” “Are you fighting?” Eunbi grabs a hold of your shirt, tugging lightly. “Only because Jungkook is mean,” you tell with an exaggerated pout. It’s his turn to be offended. “You just said my cakes weren’t moist!” You ignore him. “Let’s go, children. We don’t interact with bullies.” Lia and Eunbi giggle, happy to go along with you and leave Jungkook in the dust, scrambling to roll the shopping cart behind you. Eventually, the groceries are paid for and the walk back turns out to be equally enjoyable. Once the four of you arrive back to the house, his parents are out working in the garden, so you and Jungkook put away the groceries together and pull out the necessary ingredients for brownies. “We can probably make two batches.” “I wanna do it with Y/N!” Lia immediately exclaims, jumping to your side. She leaves her younger sister frowning and on the verge of tears. “No, I wanna!” “How about me?” Jungkook stands in the middle of his own kitchen at a complete loss. It causes laughter to bubble from you. “Okay, all three of us can do it together and we can verse Jungkook. How about that?” They nod and Lia tells her cousin that he’s going down, teasing him mercilessly and you indulge them about how you’re better than Jungkook in everything at school — something he adamantly protests about. Soon, all of you get to work. You teach them how to preheat the oven, grease the pans, and watch as the half cup of butter is melted in a saucepan. Lia and Eunbi help you measure out one cup of sugar and they each crack an egg into the butter. Three quarter cups of cocoa are shifted into the mixture along with a half cup of flour, a quarter teaspoon of salt and a quarter teaspoon of baking powder. You show the two girls how to fold the ingredients gently together and you catch them a moment before they’re about to spoon the batter into their mouths. They give stretching smiles and you help them spread it into a pan instead to bake. It’s put in for half an hour, slightly underdone so it’s sweet and still gooey. “It smells wonderful in here,” Jungkook’s mom gasps as she enters, taking off her garden gloves and wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “Did you make something special?” “Look auntie!” Eunbi is jumping, hands jittery, on a sugar high. “We made brownies!” “Did you now?” She peers over the counter, brows raising. “My goodness, they look amazing.” “We helped make them with Y/N,” Lia announces, mouth smeared in chocolate. “Did you thank Y/N yet for showing you how to make them?” Both girls instantly whirl around, thanking you with bashful and shy smiles. In the meanwhile, Jungkook’s mom is unable to resist and reaches over for a brownie. She groans at the taste and smacks her lips together. “Don’t eat too much or it’ll ruin your appetite,” she says — much like how Jungkook often reminds you — and ironically bites into her brownie again. The woman turns to you. “These are delicious, dear.” “They weren’t too hard to make.” “You should show me the recipe, I’d love to bake these again.” “I’ve made these before!” Jungkook complains in a higher pitched voice, eating his own brownies when no one takes them out of his pan. But no one pays mind to him. Not his mother or his twirling cousins. “Of course, I can.” You, on the other hand, do pay attention to Jungkook. You grin at him as he glares. And only later when there’s a moment of privacy will he tickle you as revenge for making his entire family love you more than him. It’s then that he finally gets the chance to kiss you too. // Dinner with the Jeon family is as you would expect it to be. Everyone inhales all the food and chit chats with one another. There’s warm banter shared across the dinner table as his parents make him talk about the trip to Tahiti, how the internship was and if he was on his best behaviour. He gives you discreet, defeated looks to show how he’s so done with them and it’s hard to stifle your giggles. Afterwards, you help him do the dishes as his cousins turn on a movie to watch and his parents finish off the brownies you made. Not long after that, everybody begins to retreat to their rooms. “Aw, do we have to go to bed?” “Yes. Don’t you want to help plant the flowers tomorrow?” Jungkook’s mom smooths out her hair. “Only big girls can help and you can only get big if you sleep and get strong.” “Okay.” Lia sulks. “But can I at least say goodnight to Y/N?” “Yes.” The older woman offers a rather maternal smile. “You can.” Lia runs to you down the hall right as you leave the bathroom with your toothbrush in hand, catching you off guard. She hugs you tight. “Goodnight, Y/N!” Eunbi is hot on her sister’s heels and you stumble back when she throws herself at you too. “Night, night, Y/N!” “Goodnight, you two.” “Can we play tomorrow?” You ruffle the five year old’s hair. “Course we can.” She beams and hops back, following her aunt. Her uncle is already inside their room, holding up books. “Who’s ready for story time?” “Me!” Lia runs off and waves to you. At the same time, Jungkook leaves his room to see their retreating forms and scoffs. “Wow, are they not going to wish me a goodnight?” You slap his arm, laughing. “Stop being so jealous all the time. I can’t help that I’m so lovable.” He scoffs and affectionately pokes your forehead with his index finger. “I can’t even argue with that.” The corner of his mouth curls and you grin. Jungkook has that look in his eyes — the one you’ve learnt to recognize. He looks like he wants to kiss you, like he’s about to do it too, but the pair of you are interrupted by someone lingering in the hallway. “Y/N, you’re sleeping in the guest bedroom, right?” His mom looks at you and you nod quickly. “Yes, I am.” “Good.” She relaxes and bobs her head. “Jungkook, you go back to your room now. There’s a long day tomorrow.” He sighs, but doesn’t argue. Jungkook turns right back around into his room and keeps the door slightly open for a second, enough to give you an incredulous look. It makes you smile and mouth ‘goodnight’ to him before he shuts the door. His mom brings you to the guest bedroom, helping you set up for the night and asking if you need extra blankets and pillows. “Are you sure everything’s okay?” “Yes, it is. Thank you, Mrs. Jeon.” “If you’re ever cold, feel free to grab anything from the closet.” When you nod, she gets to the door. Jungkook’s mom is about to turn off the light, but lingers. She twists around to share a smile with you. “Thank you for coming, Y/N. I’m glad to see you again.” “No, thank you.” You’re caught off guard by her words of gratitude. “Honestly, I didn’t want to be such a bother.” “You aren’t. Trust me.” She laughs, a tinkling sound emitting from her chest. “I’ve always wanted a daughter like you. Jungkook is two more handfuls than I can handle sometimes, especially when he was young.” The older woman shakes his head with a fond expression. “He might not look like it but he’s still very much a child. I worry about him being gone so far for so long out of the entire year. So, I’m glad there’s someone like you looking out for him.” You’re touched by her sincerity, but you can’t help but feel like she’s gotten it wrong. You awkwardly shift your weight from one foot to the other. “Mrs. Jeon—” “You can call me auntie, if you’d like.” You nod timidly. “Jungkook actually looks out for me a lot more than I do for him. He really helped me through a lot of tough times, so really, I should be the one thanking him….” She smiles, the wrinkles around her eyes creasing. “Then I’m even more grateful that Jungkook’s not hopeless. It’s good that the two of you have one another.” Part of you wants to tell her that you’re unequivocally in love with her son. But by the twinkle in her eye, you get a sense that she already knows the true nature between you and Jungkook. You don’t need to say it aloud or make any announcements. Her smile becomes more tender in the small silence and then she finally bids you a goodnight, flicking off the lights in the room. You end up laying there for a while. You receive Jungkook’s text telling you this is so dumb and you laugh. The bright lights of your phone eventually burns your eyes too much, so you throw it aside, opting to stare at the ceiling and listen to his house. You can hear doors closing, footsteps, the flicker of the hallway light turning off and more doors closing. Silence settles in for a good ten minutes, but before you can completely drift off to sleep, your door cracks open. A familiar boy sneaks into your room with a soft sigh. He shuts the door silently and nimbly avoids all the creaks in the floorboards, knowing where each of them are after growing up and spending his childhood in these four walls. “You’re not supposed to be here.” You sit up, covers pooling around your waist. His feet slide and the mattress dips underneath his weight. “And I care because…?” You scoff. “Rebellious, aren’t you, Jeon?” “You don’t even know the start of it.” He grins. “I just want to lay with you for a while. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.” “But your parents don’t know that. What happens if they catch you here?” you ask while peeling back the covers anyhow, happily inviting him in. “Nothing will happen. It’s okay.” “Yeah, but they might hate me...for tainting their son.” “Impossible.” Jungkook settles in and pulls the covers up to keep you warm. You cuddle yourself into him and he props his chin on top of your head. “And they don’t care about that. They just don’t want any Jeon grandkids, or at least not until we graduate.” “Psh. You’re going to have to prove yourself before you implant anything in my uterus, Jeon.” His nose wrinkles at your euphemism, but then he pokes your side, making you squirm. “Prove myself? Haven’t I already?” “Just cause I let you kiss me a few times doesn’t mean I have plans to make this long-term,” you tease and this time he’s the one scoffing. Jungkook rolls on top of you, pinning you underneath him. The soft glow of the lamp posts outside on the suburban street comes through the window and when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you’re able to discern a few of his features — especially that sulking expression of his. Jungkook’s such a baby sometimes. Or at least he likes to be babied by you. Yoongi, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin would shit themselves if they saw him now. But it makes you happy to be the only one who can see this endearing side of him. “What more do you want to put me through, hmm?” You cock your head to the side. “Who knows, you might just get bored of me in a few weeks, Jeon. Better not to jump the gun.” “I don’t think so. What do you take me for? Someone with that low of an attention span?” “Well…” You draw out the syllable. “Last I checked, you still don’t know how to make flowers with gum paste.” His tongue clicks in annoyance and he starts to tickle you again at your weakest parts. You squirm underneath him, giggling as your legs kick to no avail. It makes the bed squeak, the headboard hitting against the wall and Jungkook laughs and quickly lets up. He covers your mouth with his palm. “Shush! You’re going to wake them up.” You peel off his hand, harshly whispering, “You started it.” Jungkook’s smile is big enough to make his cheeks hurt. He missed you — your company, warmth, the teasing banter. It’s hard to fathom that his best friend is actually here with him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Jungkook leans down, locking his lips against yours. Your soft mouths slots against each other like it’s the way it always should have been and he relishes in the groan you release. It’s a gentle kiss, one that merely tests the waters and then he pulls away. You blink up at him, breath leaving through your parted lips that now taste like his vanilla chapstick. “No funny business, remember?” “I know.” Jungkook gets off of you, resuming his place by your side. “But I wasn’t planning any ‘funny business’. Where has your mind gone too?” Your cheeks heat. “I’m just saying.” He chuckles softly, arm slung across your waist. You’re pulled close as he nestles in. It’s easy to relax and your hand lifts to wrap around his back. The both of you hold each other for a while in the comfortable darkness underneath the cozy covers. You’re lulled in his company. “Jungkook.” “Hmm?” “You can’t fall asleep here.” “I know,” he mumbles. But contrary to Jungkook’s words, he does fall asleep with you — sharing the same bed like those nights in Tahiti. Only in the morning, when dawn breaks and the morning light comes through the glass windows are you both naturally shaken awake. It’s then that Jungkook scratches his bed hair flopping in all directions, eyes swollen as he stumbles back to his own bedroom. And you drift back to sleep with a softened smile on your face.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #bts reader insert #jungkook reader insert #btsboulangerie #LET'S GO Y'ALL

518 notes · View notes