#the only person who’s talked to me so far is someone who recognized me from high school :( and he keeps trying to show me pictures of him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cometkenji · 1 month

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killshot, baby

Pairing: Aaron Hotch x Doctor!Fem!reader Cw: Fluff (for real this time), LONGING (this is literally 9k words of pure yearning idek how I did that), mentions of blood, Hotch gets shot, Jack being adorable, Jack gets injured too :(, no explicit age gap, this is just rlly cute idk it's sweet I love Hotch so much I need him Summary: When you get hired as the BAU's stand-by medic, the team leader ends up being the hardest part of your job. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby! She's always fat coded, but like usual she's not described here. Just know a chubby person was imagined when writing this <3 WC: 9k (Hotch is the love of my life I could go on about him forever) This is definitely not medically accurate, please just enjoy for the sake of the story. I LOVE HOTCH I WANNA SMOOCH HIM

As weird as it was, band aids were the thing you remembered most from your childhood. You grew up as a canvas for any sort of scrape, cut, or bruise. Any wound that made your parents feel mildly worried to utterly terrified were ones that decorated your body frequently. You never tried to assign any meaning to why you became a doctor, simply crediting it as your call to the profession - to people. If you had to, though, your consistently bruised adolescent body is the best root cause you could think of. It seemed only right that the kid who couldn’t keep her skin in tact would grow to love helping others. You liked to think that’s how you kept your head an average size. Your bosses and co-workers had raved about your abilities no matter the job you took, and after a while you had to start prioritizing keeping your humility. You had started as just a kid with bruises.

You tended to ground yourself with those same memories in times like this. For as long as you’d worked in the hospital, you held some disdain for agents. You saw many federal ones, being so close to the HQ for divisions like Behavioral Analysis, but some locals swung by too. You’d had far too many experiences of them being snappy, demanding, and usually inconsiderate to the team of people trying to save someone. You understood the individuals you were committed to helping often got there by doing monstrous things, but demanding to talk to someone when they were bleeding out and half-conscious always forced your tongue between your teeth in an effort to stay respectful. Especially now, pushing a stretcher with 3 other workers while trying to shake off the feds trailing after him. You recognized them, Agents Rossi and Hotchner, if you remembered correctly.

“We’ll need to talk to him immediately.” The man - Rossi, you assumed, seeing as he was going gray and had less of a charge fueling his steps - spoke quickly as the two men followed your team.

“Be here when he’s out of surgery.” You didn’t bother to look back, trying to convey your annoyance and praying they got the hint.

“He’s killed three women and has another one hostage. We don’t have time.” The other one piped up, easily keeping pace with you.

Abandoning your previous strategy, you let your team push the man into the operating room, shutting the door behind them and whipping around to face the duo. “I understand that, sir, believe me.” You were more elevated than you would have liked, years of unease unfortunately slipping through your efforts to withhold them. “But whatever happened when you found him left him barely breathing. You can’t speak to a corpse. You’ll have your time when he’s stable. Go do your job and let me do mine.” You tensed your calves planning to turn around, but quickly felt the guilt catch up to you. “I’ll call you if he wakes up.”

“If?”

You sighed. You hated profilers. “I’ll call you.”

“Call the headquarters.” He was scribbling down a number on the back of a hospital business card. “Ask for Agent Hotch. We’ll be waiting.” You nodded your head once, taking the card from his hands. He started walking away as he thanked you. “We appreciate it.” Sure.

–

The surgery to save the man had been a trip and half. One of the bullets had internally ricocheted, and the other two were lodged next to crucial arteries. You praised your mother for giving you steady hands as you inched them out of him. It took you and your team six hours and fifteen minutes to get his heartbeat steady, you estimated he’d be knocked out all night. You should call, you thought. You had no idea how late these people worked but they were more than likely expecting to talk tonight and you didn’t know if that’d be possible. You fished the card out of your pocket, his handwriting was impressively neat for how fast he’d written the number. You heard the line ring twice before someone picked up.

“This is Penelope Garcia with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, who am I speaking to?”

“Uh- I’m Dr. L/n down at Quantico Med. I’m looking for Agent Hotch?” Your words tilted up at the end of your sentence. The casual nature of his shortened name left a weird feeling in your mouth after you said it. “I have an update on a patient he was asking after.”

“Is this about an unsub?”

“A what?” She lacked professionalism. You wondered briefly if he had just given you the phone number of an employee.

“I’m sorry-” she laughed slightly. “Is this about a suspect? Hotch told me someone might be calling.”

“Um - yeah it’s about a suspect. He was brought in earlier. Is Agent Hotch there? I’m sorry ma’am but I've been in an operating room for the past 6 hours and I want to go home.” You hoped she’d respect your honesty, you really didn’t have the patience to explain yourself to someone new.

She chuckled. “I got you honey, I’ll page you over.” The line went dead for a second before the ringing resumed. Please be quick, you prayed, get me out of this fucking hospital.

“Hotchner.” His voice was rougher over the phone. You guessed the long hours started to weigh on him by this time of night. You always felt it the most around this time, too.

“Hi, sir. This is Dr. L/n from the hospital. We managed to stabilize your guy, but it’s unlikely he’ll be up before tomorrow. I know it was assumed he’d be awake tonight but it took longer to operate than expected.” Your guys put 3 bullets in him, so sorry for the inconvenience. “I’ll be here all day tomorrow. You can come by at any time and I’ll let you in.”

“Are you positive we can’t talk to him tonight? I understand the situation is difficult but this case is extremely time sensitive. I’m sure that’s not lost on you.” You cursed the man for not being more condescending in his delivery. Thinking of the poor person either trapped or dead right now due to the guy you just saved made you sick.

“I know.” Fucking hell. “I can wake him up.” A quarter dose of adrenaline works wonders. “Be here in fifteen minutes. You won’t have much time to talk to him.”

“Thank you.” He hung up. You put your head in your hands. Just a little kid with bruises.

–

The layout of the BAU made you envious of the workers here. You’re sure they’d dealt with atrocities beyond what the average person could stomach, but you also worked within the belly of the beast and man were those hospital hallways claustrophobic. The daylight shone beautifully through the large windows, and you asked yourself if you’d be able to cope with all the paperwork in exchange for a feel like this. There weren’t any front desks, nowhere to sign in, so you sat in one of the chairs by the door and waited to see if something would happen. You had been specifically requested to visit the building , a note signed ‘Strauss’ being left with the hospital secretary. You didn’t like being called on by a stranger, it made you nervous beyond belief. You’re sure anyone walking by assumed you were being charged with something. Sweating like a sinner in church.

“Dr. L/n?” A woman was standing near you, having completely avoided your eyesight until now. “I’m the board supervisor, Erin Strauss. Thank you for coming.” The woman was nice enough, but she seemed rigid, clearly confident in her authority. She led you to her office and gestured to the chair facing her desk.

“I’ll cut right to the chase.” She smoothed her pencil skirt as she sat down. “The BAU is seeking a stand-by medic and I’d like to offer you the position. You’re revered highly by your previous places of employment and your current boss has only good things to say. Along with a personal reference by an employee of mine, you’re certainly a person of interest. You’d be working interchangeably with three other individuals, however you would be the first one called when needed.”

That is definitely not what you were expecting. You were almost immediately ready to turn down the offer. You didn’t work well with cops. You worked well in a hospital, going into the field to patch the wounds of both good and evil was a less than appealing deal to you.

“You’d be on call while you worked your current position at Quantico Medical, when you’re at home you can remain there, but you’ll be flying with the rest of the team when they leave. You will be entered into a federal database, and employed as a stand-in for hospitals near you when working abroad.” She went on to explain you’d be paid salary, and when you heard just how much you could add to your monthly income by doing this, you took it. You were doing fine, you definitely didn’t need the financial boost, but you had family that could use it. Your niece had been close to turning down college because of the cost, so some extra money could really set her up.

“Excellent. You’ll start your field training next Monday.” She was shuffling papers into a hefty stack as she talked. “Come back when you’ve finished this and I’ll arrange a team meeting.” The stack was even heavier than you expected when you picked it up. It was far too early to be regretting your decision.

–

The first day of training had been easy enough. You weren’t an agent, so you avoided having to learn weapons or combat. It generally consisted of learning efficiency, along with how to work properly with agents and the expected etiquette when dealing with an unsub. You had met the team only once by now. Everyone had been nice - Garcia especially - but aside from her nobody had been particularly welcoming. The conditions of your job were a bit strange, basically capitalizing on the what ifs that came with the FBI title, and that created a bit of distance between you and the rest of the team. They questioned the necessity of you, they’d survived this long without a stand-by medic with them, why did they need one now?

Above any disregard for those in law enforcement sat your stubbornness. You knew they were on the fence about you, the most logical thing for you to do now would be attend every session required of you and prove yourself through pure accomplishment. Easy in theory, much harder to execute when Aaron Hotch is the one you’re learning from. He was a good teacher - you’d give him that - he had a confidence to him that easily dominated a room, attracted eyes in a way other men couldn’t manage. You’d ignored the initial stir in your stomach when meeting him in favor of attempting to scold him and his partner. Now, it was much harder to quell the slight pound in your head or the sweat on your palms. He was just standing up front, lecturing on the importance of a team, but his attire was the only thing able to break through the haze in your mind. Every time he’d shown up at the hospital, he’d donned a suit, a slightly baggy blazer worked incredibly well as a shield to your curiosity. That had clearly changed, as he shed the overcoat when talking to the class, having just a white button up adorn his torso. You took notice of the rolled up sleeves, clearing your throat quietly to snap yourself back into focus. You had the intention of snuffing out this little thing of yours but were a living contradiction at this point, setting on the goal of avoidance while barely ignoring the sight of the veins on his arms. You pondered the thought of sleeping with some man at a bar just to get this out of your system, but remembered how little projecting attraction onto someone else helps a situation. In other words, you were probably fucked.

–

The first mission you worked with the team had you flying to a tiny Georgia town to investigate a string of bodies being found in ransacked homes. It seemed to be a simple motive, robbery turned to murder, but the team was called down to help once the kill count hit five. You had been expecting a long commercial flight, figuring you’d need to invest in a good neck pillow and some aspirin. Nobody had bothered to inform you the Bureau utilized private air travel, or that you’d be flying in one with people you’d known for two weeks. You’re sure you looked a little out of place, looking around the plane without being obvious you were doing it and adjusting to the sight of couches on planes. The others, having had this privilege for years now, took their respective seats. You had been nervous about that, unfortunately. The unsure feeling of where to sit reminding you painfully of high school cafeterias and inferior reputations. The only open seat happened to be right next to the man you’d been ducking away from the past two weeks. Lovely. He took a moment to look at you when you sat. You were prepared to talk to him, but for now you busied yourself with rummaging through your bag looking for nothing and pretending not to see him in your peripherals.

“Do you get sick on planes?” He seemed to have a deeper motive when he asked, like you saying yes would solve a puzzle in his head.

“Not really.” You’d only been on a plane a handful of times. “Turbulence can make me nervous, but I think that’s fairly normal.” You thought momentarily that perhaps he would blame your obvious anxiety on that instead of his proximity to you. He was a profiler, you’re sure he picked up on tells for nerves you weren’t even aware you had, but maybe he’d write it off. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem…” He trailed off for a moment, looking over your face to try and categorize your expression. “I don’t know, lost?” He smiled, light and easy, and you realized he was trying to reach out to you. The comfortability in the gesture made your head spin. It was like a shot of morphine, enveloping your body in a dull elation - an escape. You wanted that comfortability, wanted him to feel weightless around you. There had been a certain tension between the two of you since you started. He was warmer than the rest, but also more awkward. Your first real interaction had been an outburst, and it left you hesitant to talk to him.

You chuckled at his remark. “No I -” You shook your head as you spoke, as if shaking off his accusation. “Nobody told me about the jet. You’d think exclusive aircraft would be in the job predecessor.”

He nodded in agreement, holding a slight upturn on his lips. “Yes, you would.” He glances away to check the time, looking back to you quickly like you were his homebase. “Strauss has a habit of getting ahead of herself. Plus, we’re all pretty used to it by now. I have to remind her sometimes that normal provisions don’t have a TI.”

“I’m sure.” It was clear she’d worked with the unit for a while. “Even if they did, though, they’d never find another Garcia.” You thought of the woman, bright and sparkly and incredibly good at her job. “You guys are lucky to have her.”

He stared at you, losing a hint of the lightheartedness and letting a wave of genuinity intertwine with it. “You have her too, Y/n.” His eyes were like a trap, rich pools of honey just begging to tug you down in. “You’re a member of this team. Don’t think your newness makes you inferior to anyone else on it. We’re lucky to have you too.”

Fuck, you were whipped. “I really appreciate that, sir.”

He smiled, shaking his head and waving you off. “Don’t with the sir, please. It’s bad enough when Garcia does it. You can call me Aaron.” Not even the other team members called him that, a thought that seemed to strike you both simultaneously. “Or Hotch, whatever you prefer.”

You just looked at him, letting a smile rouse your lips and trying your hardest not to let the effect he had on you reach your face. “Ok.”

–

The first case had been good training wheels, simply tending to a vic who needed stitches and getting a feel for the life of a field agent. You’d been adjusting nicely to it, quickly getting used to working random hospitals and waiting to be needed on an active crime scene. The others had warmed up to you tremendously after getting back, opening their circle for one more, and you couldn’t be more grateful. A team like this was something you’d wanted for a while, growing more and more unsatisfied with the callous ER workspace by the day. Ironically, there was much more life in jobs dealing with murder. He had also been warming up to you. The two of you hit the status of work-place friends nearly instantly. The endearing encounter on the plane simmered inside you for a while. The memory of it prompting you to keep talking to him, always searching for a fix of the painkiller you’d felt that day.

You weren’t a profiler, but you were unfathomably infatuated, leading you to never miss his tone getting softer with you, or any one of his touches that lingered for just a second too long. It just barely bypassed the line of friendship, but you never lost sight of that linear barrier, so it was incredibly prevalent to you when he breached it. You scoffed at the idea of any reciprocity, brushing off every remark made by a coworker or the one horrific time you heard JJ refer to the two of you as ‘mom and dad.’ This wasn’t a plausible thing. This was a stupid workplace crush that was more of a hindrance than anything. The growing closeness between you and him would have it’s effects properly restrained to the confines of your head, only permitted to express themselves once you were away from the man. It was an odd dynamic, but Aaron wasn’t an obvious guy, so trying to define the edges of you two would only draw attention to the fact you had been looking at all. No thank you.

“Shit.” The team was sitting around the table going over their files. You were mainly there for support, as you were never a part of the lead up to the catch, the chase. You heard Hotch mumble the exclamation under his breath and looked over to see the trouble. He was looking down at his phone, jaw resting between his thumb and pointer finger. You got up and moved to sit next to him, the motion virtually ignored by everyone else as they continued searching for connections.

“Everything ok?” You mumbled to him, trying not to disturb your friends who were nearly nose-deep in their files.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Jack’s sitter canceled. I wanted to stay here to go over the latest crime scene but I guess I’ll have to raincheck.” The killings of your latest unsub had been increasing. You knew the collective stress that was starting to boil within the team. Him going home would only slow them down, a horrible addition to a killer that was speeding up.

You volunteered your night away before you even got a chance to think about it.

“I can watch him.”

Surprise was apparent in the raise of his eyebrows. “I appreciate it, but I couldn’t ask that of you.

You’re fairly certain you would do anything he asked of you, but the nobility of the man in this case almost made you roll your eyes. “No, please. I offered and I would love to. I’m not helping anyone just sitting here, and you leaving would slow them down. You know what to look for here, I don’t. I don’t want another girl going missing just cause your sitter flaked. I can do it.”

He seemed mildly speechless. “I -” He paused, trying to find the wording he wanted. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll send you the address, if you’re sure.” He looked at you with more adoration than you’d ever had directed at you, so intense your eyes instinctively ducked down. “Thank you, Y/n.” He was so touched by the action it made you slightly sad to think about. Had no one ever helped him? Maybe you were raised weird, this seemed hardly beyond common decency to you.

“What are friends for?” He exhaled a slight laugh in gratuitous agreement, but you saw the glimmer of his eyes dull slightly. The notion surely reflected in your own eyes as the words burned your tongue. Friends.

–

Jack was a delight. A well mannered, clearly well raised kid. Parts of his dad shined so vibrantly in him that you’re sure you’d be able to pick him out of a crowd based on mannerisms alone. Hotch had called Jack’s daycare, verifying your identity and giving you the ok to go pick him up. He seemed quiet on the way home, but rushed to give you a tour of the house, and excitedly led you to his line up of toy trains once you’d entered the place. There was a shift between you and Hotch that happened when you gave the offer. A shift that was now only just settling in you. This was his house. His space, his stuff, his place of security. He’d invited you into it, gave you permission to enter it, to exist within it, and it was strangely intoxicating. He was intoxicating, and you realized quickly how much you ached for the permanence of it. You’d made Jack dinner, played for a bit, went out for ice cream per his pleading, and wished him a peaceful goodnight when his bedtime rolled around. He’d dubbed you his ‘best babysitter ever’ and you knew as soon as the words hit your ears that you’d be watching him again. You’re sure situations like today popped up frequently for Hotch, you could be a valuable asset to him when you had free time. He would be saving money too. No need to pay a sitter when you were being paid by the Bureau every second you were there. Aaron had gotten home a few minutes past one, utterly exhausted and uncharacteristically apologetic. He was sorry for being gone so long, making you stay so late, everything and anything the man could apologize for was pouring out of his mouth. He’d welcomed you to stay, but his hair was messy from messing with it all night, and he’d ditched the suit jacket for a gray long sleeve. You’d wanted to take the opportunity, wanted to bask in the safety of him for as long as he’d allow it, but those restrained thoughts were clawing the walls of your skull with a vigor unlike anything you’d felt before. It would be abhorrent to dream about the man while in the confines of his home. You couldn’t do that - you wouldn’t. You brushed off any apology he could conjure and let him escort you out the door. His hand was on your lower back, and his voice was low from the siphoning nature of the day.

“Thank you, again.” He looked at you. “You’re a lifesaver.” You’d expected to hear some humor in his voice. The start of banter between friends, a casual appreciation for a job well done, but there wasn’t any. He sounded rough, slightly beat down, his eyes filled with a sincerity all aimed at you. A blend of pure adoration and a deeper level of dedication. Was this a commitment? What kind?

Heat bubbled in your stomach as you made eye contact. “Please.” You shook your head slightly. “Jack’s an angel. You’re clearly as good at this as you are profiling.” You nodded in the vague direction of Jack’s bedroom as you referenced the kid. “It was my pleasure. I’d love to do it again, if you’ll let me.”

He sighed out a small laugh and broke your gaze for a moment, looking back to you as he spoke. “I’d like that.”

–

You’d seen Jack a multitude of times after that. Aaron was never particularly fond of asking you, claiming that he appreciated the gesture but it was mainly Jack’s begging that made him cave. That, and your persistence. You liked Jack a lot, and more selfishly, you liked being around Aaron’s stuff. It was a little creepy, yes, but you felt better acquainted with him after being around his things. An energetic type of understanding, the type that deepened a connection without words. He was needed late tonight, and as much as you hated denying an offer to see Jack, you had priorities at the hospital. The previous sitter wasn’t able to watch him, so she gave a personal recommendation, and Jack got stuck with a stranger. You thought about him while working, probing and patching people half-focused with the desire to be elsewhere. You’d felt mildly guilty about it, but it’s not like it altered your work, so you figured it was harmless.

You wondered slightly if you manifested the event you were watching play out. You watched in pure disbelief as a sobbing Jack was being carried into the ER by a flustered blonde woman. There was blood staining the right sleeve of his shirt, pouring out of his skin in a surplus and completely soaking through the material. A jagged piece of glass was standing at attention in his wrist, having sliced through the fabric like butter. He was marked ‘urgent,’ who knows if the shard had hit an artery or where the glass had come from.

Most other doctors were busy, either operating or tending to patients. You’d walked to the front desk, remaining as calm as your racing heart would let you, and told the secretary to assign the case to you. “I know this one. Let me take him.” She just nodded, marking your name down as the primary doctor and allowing you to take him back.

Walking up to the blonde woman, you assumed this had been the new babysitter. She was a wreck, trying to explain what happened through her own hysteria while simultaneously having her words drowned out by the crying child. “It’s ok, ma’am.” You’d reassured her, obviously she hadn’t intended the injury. “Let me take him, I’m a friend of his father.” You saw the calmness dilate her eyes, making itself apparent in the relaxation of her tense shoulders. You removed the bleeding boy from her arms, holding him against you and cooing at him the way you would a baby. You took him to a stretcher a few feet away and laid him down, ensuring his wounded arm stayed flat in an attempt to slow the blood. He was on the brink of passing out, his body not having nearly enough energy for the sobbing on top of losing vital fluid. “Jack.” You addressed him directly, two more doctors aiding your transfer to an examination room. “I need you to stay with me, buddy. Just a little longer, I promise. You’re gonna be just fine.” You pushed with one hand, caressing his non-injured arm to emphasize your affection. “Just a little longer.” You looked at him in between looking forward to keep the stretcher straight, seeing that same adoration from his father’s eyes mirrored in his. You felt protective, realizing you cared for the Hotchners much more than you let yourself believe. Little kid with bruises, you skimmed through your origins in your mind in an attempt to center your focus. Just a little kid with bruises.

Two hours later, Jack was stitched up and sleeping soundly. You knew his sitter had called Hotch, probably as soon as something happened, and were not surprised to find him idle in a waiting room chair. He was leaned forward, head in his hands and knee bouncing violently. He heard footsteps getting closer, a feeling within him recognizing them as yours, and he looked up. His eyes were teary, tired. The look of a concerned father.

“How is he?” You’d never witnessed this type of worry in him, heard the amount of desperation in his voice.

You smiled lightly as a predecessor to Jack’s wellbeing. “He’s fine. Glass missed his arteries. We had him patched up in around an hour and a half. Gave him a lollipop and a light sedative to get him to rest. He should be all set to go in the morning.”

He sighed, and the amount of stress that audibly left his body made you feel a little lighter from where you stood. “Thank God.”

“Hey man, give us a little credit.” You joked, relieved when you heard the slight laugh come from his downturned head. Pity laugh, probably, but it was a cherished sound nonetheless.

“You have full credit, Y/n.” He shook his head, raising it to look at you. “Quite the hero.”

You almost physically recoiled from the term, rushing to correct him while maintaining the lighthearted nature. “Definitely not.” You rejected the praise. “Just doing my job. I’m glad I could help him.”

He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for a second before he planned to stand up. “Noble.” He chuckled. “But you helped my son. That’s about as heroic as it gets to me, doc.”

Blood rushed to your ears at your professional title being used so affectionately. “Go check on your kid, Hotch.” You waved back towards the direction of Jack, knowing that even though he was asleep, he’d want to see him anyway. You also hoped the slight distraction would draw his attention away from your increasingly flustered state. “You’ll have plenty of time to praise me.” You weren’t entirely sure you’d wanted the sentence to exit your mouth, but it was too late to bite your tongue.

He raised his eyebrows so slightly that you scolded yourself for having noticed. Such a minuscule action that seemed to move mountains within your brain. “Oh?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at your own remark. “I’m walking away. You know what I meant.”

“Mhm.” He smiled, nodding his head dramatically and rising from his seat. “Just name a time and place, doc. I’ll do good on that promise.”

You went momentarily braindead, hoping your eyes weren’t giving away the less than work appropriate feeling pumping through your veins. You stared baffled at him for what was definitely a millisecond too long before giving a half-shocked, half-flattered laugh and gesturing him away. “Say that when you’re not obviously sleep deprived and delirious and maybe we can arrange it.” The last thing you heard was him, laughing the way you do when you’re very serious but desperately trying to pass it off as a joke. You knew it well, having done it almost every time you were around him since you started. Comfortable, witty retorts between friends. “Have a good night, Aaron.”

Aaron, he thought. He’d remember that.

–

That had been the second shift between the two of you. Felt immediately by both parties and tossing you both into the deep end of whatever you’d been building with him. He’d been much more touchy, seemingly subconscious on his part but noticed by every part of your body, mind, and soul. You thought about what it could mean, then sunk even further into your incoherent mind when realizing just how subconscious the actions really were. He was just drawn to you. You had viscerally fought that conclusion as it came to you but it genuinely could not be anything else. He was touching you more because - whether on the surface or deeper down - he just wanted to, and that fact was wrecking you. You were so fucking into him that it hurt. Hurt to look at him or be in his home watching Jack or have his knee pressed against yours in the back of car during a team outing. It all hurt because he wasn’t yours. He seemed into you, too. Of course, you didn’t know to what extent. You worried maybe he hadn’t said anything yet because he simply didn’t like you enough, and that hurt more than any other factor. It was a foolish notion - one you would have abandoned instantly had you peeked inside his head - but alas, no such luck.

He’d been more relaxed, too. The two of you reaching a point in your relationship you hadn’t ever let yourself dream about. He was funny, achieving that lightness around you that you’d wanted from the start. He’d gotten riskier, amping up the dial on his remarks a bit. Starting with those like the hospital, ending with ones that made you have to take a breather in the room where they kept the coffee. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, per say, but the others were certainly ignorant to the true depth of the change. You simply couldn’t measure it by witnessing, you had to feel it. And fuck were you feeling it.

A week or so after Jack’s ER visit, you’d asked after him. You didn’t know if the regret was immediate, but it flooded through you quickly. Aaron got nervous, shifty, like you’d touched a live wire of his and he now had to patch it up before it blew. You got concerned, asking if something happened with his stitches or if Jack was now showing some sort of trauma response to the event. Was that even plausible? You weren’t sure, PTSD wasn’t exactly your strong suit. However, he quickly stated that wasn’t the case, noting that Jack was actually in perfect health and had been relentless about wanting you over for dinner.

“He’s grateful.” Hotch was smiling with paternal reluctance, proud of his son for having such good morals but also uncomfortable with the possibility of rejection he was facing. “He wants to see you, say thank you for “saving his life.” He emphasized the last bit in a sarcastic tone, both of you knowing his life hadn’t been in danger but also knowing that fact wouldn’t deter the boy from considering you some type of guardian angel. “Would you be up for it?” If you hadn’t been so focused on snuffing out the heat rushing to your face, you would have seen that same heat reflected in a slight pink across his cheeks.

“Definitely.” You smiled at the thought of the boy bugging his dad about getting you to the house. “When were you thinking?”

“Saturday night?” Both of you were scheduled to be off that day, and you found yourself begging whatever merciful being would listen to not have some lead to chase that day. “He’ll want the day to prepare.” He chuckled.

“Oh no.” You joked. Prepare? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what that meant. “Well, I am extremely curious to find out what an eight year old boy has to prepare for. How about seven? Would that be good?”

Aaron felt his palms start to sweat. He’d never actually been around his house when you’d been there, only seeing you on your way out. “That’s perfect.”

“Great.” You smiled, checking the time and realizing you needed to get going to the hospital. “I’m looking forward to it.” You nodded slightly as one last confirmation and headed out, suppressing a giddy smile while trying to force yourself into a headspace you could work in.

In the meantime, Aaron watched you walk off from where he’d been perched on your desk, entirely oblivious to the man watching the scene.

“As I live and breathe.” Rossi had crept up on him, not spooking him but rather suspending him in a state of immeasurable embarrassment. “Aaron Hotcher has a crush.” The man held his shoulder, patting him there like a father witnessing his son get his first girlfriend. “She’s a good one. Quite the eye you got, Aaron.” Then he was gone, walking away with Aaron’s dignity clasped in his hands. Closing his eyes in pure mortification, Hotch simply thanked God that nobody else was around for that and walked away with the intention of fusing to his office chair to avoid ever looking at Rossi again. At least you’d said yes, he thought. He didn’t know how he’d cope with his friend watching him swing and miss.

–

The daylight seemed to be anticipating this more than you were, hours passing by like minutes until eventually the sun woke you up on Saturday morning. It was blazing through the cracks in your blinds, settling in slim lines across your floor, as light and gentle as snow. You’d been rehearsing your poker face in preparation for tonight. Writing safety manuals for any ungodly situation that could happen, everything from a fire to Aaron gaining the ability to read your mind and unearthing what you really thought about him. You were so happy that Jack held you in such high esteem, but your hands were shaking at the thought of sitting down with him and his father and acting like it wasn’t the dynamic you fucking dreamt about. You knew it was a good sign of compatibility if someone’s cat liked you - did their child liking you mean the same thing? You hoped Jack’s seemingly innate approval of you gave you at least a couple brownie points. Aaron had called you a hero. Swiftly ignoring the memory of what he’d said after he called you a hero, you pulled out your phone. You and him didn’t really speak outside of work and babysitting schedules, but you were pacing around your room and needed something to give you a semblance of structure, a reassurance - even if it was just for the time. You texted, asking if you were still on for tonight, then went to go make breakfast and inevitably pace some more. He’d gotten back to you about twenty minutes later, confirming the time and giving details of how excited Jack was about it. You smiled at that, praying tonight would be as smooth as humanly possible and you could walk away with an ounce of emotional control. You set an intention, this wouldn’t deepen your feelings for Aaron. Was it a pointless goal? Yes. Was it also highly unlikely to prove true? Yes. But the loose plan you worked around the resolution almost completely extinguished the anxiety that had been blazing for hours now. It would be fine, you thought. Completely and utterly fine.

The same words were looping through your thoughts when you got to his front door. Casual - but still minorly more dressed up than he’d seen you. You’d put a little extra effort into your appearance, mainly to pass the time if you were honest, and you walked in with mild confidence fueling your steps. You did your best not to ogle him, he was in an attire that was already threatening to unravel the safety net of the goal you set. You were used to the suits hidden beneath blazers you cursed the existence of, maybe a snippet of his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves late at night. Now, though, he sported a simple black tee, more comfortable than you’d ever seen him. Domesticity was practically oozing from the entire situation. You felt the pieces slip into place as Jack ran up behind him, and you almost cried with how badly you wanted this feeling to be your normal.

“Hey, buddy.” You laughed as he hugged you, reciprocating the act as well as you could from the multiple feet you had on his height. “How’s the arm?”

He raised up his wrist, now gauze free and proudly showed off the scar there. You played up the genuine admiration you felt for him. “That’s a pretty gnarly scar.” He nodded in response, probably feeling cool for the evidence he handled such an injury. “I don’t want to see you back in my operating room, you hear me? Scared the life out of us.” The scolding was playful, and he giggled at your words.

Aaron huffed in agreement, cocking his head to the side slightly. “You can say that again.” Jack looked between you two, smiling and seemingly thinking something neither of you could decipher. To break the moment of silence, Aaron patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell her what’s on the menu, buddy?”

He told you, and you hummed along to his words, commenting that it sounded delicious and actually meaning it. He ran away a second later - presumably back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there - and left you and Aaron alone. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw multiple pans and pots sitting neatly on the stove, table set and ready to be utilized. Everything was being kept warm, and you finally gained an appetite after having wrestled with nerves all day.

“Do you want a drink?” He asked it while entering the kitchen, pausing to look at you.

“Please.” You were desperate to calm yourself, eager to subdue the shaking of your hands. “Do you have any wine?” You weren’t the biggest fan, but you couldn’t think of a drink more fitting for the evening.

He nodded slightly. “Red or white?”

“White.”

He chuckled. “Thought so.” It was quiet, more to himself than you as he was already walking away from you when he said it. He’d thought about what kind of wine you liked, you thought. He’d thought about you. He pulled two wine glasses down from the cupboard, then walked over to the fridge. He reached above it, barely having to stretch, and pulled an uncorked bottle from the storage up there. You felt your legs tense looking at how tall he was, how sure he was of his actions. Jesus. It’s been five minutes and you were crumbling. You watched his hands as he uncorked the bottle, reading the label and realizing the brand.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Seems a little fancy for a dinner.”

He laughed under his breath as he finished pouring the glasses, walking back over to sit next to you on the island stools. “You’re a guest of honor.” He placed yours in front of you. “I thought it was fitting.”

You searched, but couldn’t find the humor in his tone. You raised your eyebrows slightly. “Am I?” It was sarcastic, you needed to stop the heat in your stomach from spreading. “I didn’t know doing your job earned such a title.”

He was drinking as you spoke, finishing his sip before joking back. “You’re a doctor.” He said. “I thought you knew that better than anyone.”

You sucked air through your teeth as if wounded by his words. “Touche.” You took a sip of your drink, relishing the taste. Damn, he didn’t come to play. He laughed, and you set your glass back down. “Ok, I have to know.” He drew his attention to you. “What the hell did Jack need the day to prepare for?” The question had been on your mind since he asked you.

He took a drink, chuckling with a mouthful then swallowing so he could reply. “He actually helped cook most of this.” He nodded towards the stove full of different dishes. “That was what he needed the day for. Time for trial and error.”

You grinned at the thought of Jack and Aaron spending the day in aprons, making sure everything turned out perfect. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He looked back towards Jack, coloring in the living room, close enough to see but far enough to miss your discussions. “He gets nervous around you.”

That surprised you. “Why on Earth would he be nervous around me?” You took your turn looking at the boy, an idea hitting you and making you feel sick. “Wait, I didn’t do something did I?”

He looked back at you, smiling. “No, no. Nothing like that. He gets nervous because he likes you. He knows who you are to me, too, so he wants to make a good impression.”

Your mind latched onto that sentence and played it like a broken record, bouncing between your ears over and over. “Oh?” Your lips were curling up at the corners, eyebrows furrowing as you got ready to hold him to that statement. “And who might I be to you, Aaron?”

Fuck. He’d let that slip past his lips without even thinking about it. So used to being in the confidential company of his son. Good thing he used to be a lawyer and could lie his ass off. “Most of his sitters aren’t also my coworkers.” He delivered it the smoothest way he could, smiling and drinking to hopefully exude a false comfortability that he certainly wasn’t feeling.

“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look sarcastic but in truth downplaying the sting you felt. What if this had been one-sided all along? You hadn’t prepped a safety guide for that.

Luckily, Jack came sprinting into the kitchen a second later, pleading with his father to eat now. Clinging to his leg and declaring how hunger was killing him by the second, dramatically threatening to wither away before your very eyes. You both shared a look, agreeing silently to put the kid out of his misery. The instinctual nature of the act hit you like a bolt of lightning. Both of you so in tune it was comical. The dinner had been lovely, and you reminded yourself to encourage Jack to keep up his cooking hobby. Maybe you could foster a professional chef. You’d talked with them both, light and the happiest you’d felt in a while. There it was, you realized. That weightless feeling you wanted to give him. You felt it in yourself too, and you could only pray it was because he felt it first. When dinner concluded, you’d help clean up while Jack resumed his coloring. His bedtime was soon, and you didn’t want him to spend his last hour washing pans. He was nearly delirious by the time 9:00 graced the clock, tired from the preparation of the day and needing to get to sleep. He’d given you a hug goodnight, thanked you for coming like the gentleman he was, and that was the last you saw of him. The rest of your time there was spent on the couch with Aaron, you both held a second glass of wine, and you noticed it manifest in the blush on his face. He was gorgeous, and you were staring. You know your eyes went to his lips a couple times as he spoke, low and rougher as the time ushered more light out of the sky. You saw his eyes slip down a few times too, this sort of unspoken, agonizing rule of look don’t touch. He’d walked you to the door, thanked you for your attendance, and then you were leaving. Sitting in your car, warm on the inside from both his presence and the anger you felt at yourself for not just kissing him. You were so incredibly needy for this - for him, and that fact just sat with you, like a raincloud constantly in a state of downpour, never letting you forget the pure fucking craving you had for him.

–

You think the start of your blackout was Morgan’s panicked voice over the speaker. You’d been stationed in your typical hut, equipped with medical gear and waiting on someone to need you. It was almost never your team in need of service, typically you were tending to an injured hostage or sometimes the unsub themselves, but never your friends. Your breath had been baited since you’d heard the gun go off. You knew the case was dealing with an aggressive attacker, you’d been expecting a fight, but nothing is ever more excruciating than waiting to hear who the shot was meant for. Derek crying out your name followed by a “get in here. Hotch is down, we need you in here.” had you ready to run the soles of your shoes down to dust just to make it in time. In time. God, in time for what? You’d ran past Emily and Rossi hauling out the unsub, anger evident in their treatment of him. How bad was it? How bad had he got him to have them acting like that?

The scene was bloody. Your brain switching off and forcing you into autopilot as you registered the pool of Hotch’s blood that Morgan was kneeling in. He was putting pressure on the wound, an attempt to stop the bleeding but it was flowing like a river. He wouldn’t make it to the hospital like this, you realized. He wouldn’t make it to the fucking hospital. You were holding his life in between your hands right now, the slightest tremor could sever that chord and you were feeling the pressure hard. Aaron was leaned against the wall, slumping down slightly which was only making the bleeding increase under the internal pressure.

You looked at Morgan, putting on the bravest face you could muster and effectively seizing control of the situation. “Morgan.” You got his attention quickly. “On three I need you to lift him away from the wall. I need to check for an exit wound.” He just nodded, doing exactly as you’d told him when you reached three. You checked the area, finding an exit wound in nearly the same spot. It’d been a straight line. You sighed in relief. Thank fucking God. “Ok, Morgan, I need you to put pressure on the wound on his back. I’m going to stitch the front to give us the time we need for the hospital drive but I need you to hold it. You got me?”

He nodded once. “I got it.” He moved his hand from the front to the back, Aaron wincing at the switch.

You took out the numbing cream from your pack, knowing it wouldn’t do much for a gushing bullet wound but hoping it would at least quell the sting of a needle. You took out the needle, threading it with hands frighteningly stagnant as the adrenaline gave you tunnel vision. You had to save him. “Aaron.” You looked at him as you prepped his skin for the procedure. “I’m gonna need to double stitch this, and it’s gonna hurt like hell. I need you to stay with me.”

The man just nodded, exhaling in exhaustion. “Do it.”

You worked as quickly as possible, gaining hope as you listened to the ambulance approach. “There you go.” You said under your breath, at this point you couldn’t tell if you were reassuring him or yourself. You looked to Morgan, who was still sealing the other injury. “Help me get him up. Keep your hand on there. These stitches are gonna give us twenty minutes tops. Hold his shoulders straight and walk quickly.” You counted again, both of you rising when you hit three, taking the man with you. The walk to the ambulance was the longest of your life. Aaron was clinging to his consciousness but you knew he was losing grip. Finally getting him to the stretcher and slamming the doors was a relief like nothing else. There was no time to debate anyone else going, you rushed him in and sat right down beside him, taking off almost immediately after. The bleeding had slowed, and your hand took the place of Morgan’s on his back. Since he was laying down, his full weight was on it, and you felt the circulation lessen more and more as it remained there. You couldn’t care less, you’d let the blood drain from your entire arm if it meant Aaron’s survival. He hadn’t passed out, which you thought was miraculous, simply walked the line of decently delirious. Groaning under his breath at every slight bump in the road.

“Why am I always having to save you Hotchner men?” You knew now wasn’t the time to be humorous, but you would have done anything to deviate from the tears in your eyes, the ball in your throat. You finally understood why it was frowned upon to date coworkers - it should be illegal to care this much.

“I don’t know, honey.” The pet name was the kicker, allowing a tear to break the dam and roll down your cheek as he chuckled. “You seem to be pretty damn good at it, though.” You laughed too, fighting the devastation you felt at the sight of him with the fact that he was clearly well enough to still be joking. “I should have kissed you when you came for dinner.”

Fuck. “Aaron, now is not the time.” You chuckled slightly as more tears fell. This is absurd.

“I know but-” He flinched as the ambulance hit another bump. Almost there. “I might as well say it now.” You wondered if there was genuinely something wrong with him. “You’ve been all I can think about since the moment-'' He paused to breathe slightly in exertion, you giving a disapproving look as his confession took it’s toll. “since the moment you started, you know that?”

“You are dying! Please, for the love of God, Aaron. Use this energy to prevent that from happening.” Your scolding was dramatic, but your actual concern shone brightly through your ruse of sarcasm.

“Exactly.” He was being equally as sarcastic. How on Earth did he manage this with a rapidly declining life force. “Give a dying man a chance. How unfortunate would it be if the last thing I hear before I go out is the woman of my dreams rejecting me?”

“Jesus Christ.” You shook your head in pure amazement. This was by far the most goal oriented man you’d ever met. “I’ll let you take me out if you shut the hell up and save your energy.” He smiled, letting his head hit the reclined back of the stretcher. “After you get better.” You added, reminding him that his recovery took priority. “Deal?”

“Deal.” This was probably the most insufferable man you’d ever met. “Such a good motivator.”

Scratch that. Most insufferable man ever.

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totalswag · 4 months

Note

okay so rafe x brat!reader with a huge attitude towards everyone around her ??? only rafe could make her calm down n behave omg the dream

attitude attitude - RAFE CAMERON

authors note pretty sure you sent me request before you sent me this one but THANK YOU for this idea. i can definitely see rafe being the only one to calm brat!reader down in these certain circumstances. just the thought of rafe doing this ugh only a girl could dream 😫.

requests are still open so feel free to send them my way. if you click on the bold red font it will take you to my ask box lovies!!!

summary brat!reader has a huge attitude towards everyone and her boyfriend rafe is the only one to calm her down.

warnings drinking, smoking, cursing, possible fight, making out, implied smut

Rafe and you were on our way to a kook party, which had been the talk of Kildcare for quite some time. The traffic lights made the drive take ten minutes. Rafe had his right hand on your thigh and the other on the steering wheel.

Rafe let out a breath, turning his head in your direction as you look out the passenger window, "Y/N before we get to the party, please be on your best behavior tonight," you turn your head around looking at him confused.

"And what if I'm not on my best behavior?" You smirk, tilting your head to the side.

Rafe laughs as he turns the corner toward the house. "You already know what will happen, princess," he says in the tone that just gets you going.

One thing about you have a bad attitude towards everyone around you. You have a short temper and become overstimulated easily. Rafe is the only person who can calm you down and behave in certain situations.

You say what needs to be said and don't care whose feelings get hurt. You have no fear confronting someone that's been talking about you or anyone you care for in a negative way.

If anything, Rafe and you are nearly the same, except you are worse.

The party has undoubtedly been the topic of much discussion during the last week. Outside, music can be heard, as can voices. Rafe held your hand as you two entered the big house, which smelled of weed, alcohol, people making out, and bodies grinding against each other. To move around the house, you have to squeeze.

A few guys recognized Rafe- calling out his name, waving, or dabbing him up.

"The fuck you looking at?" You question a group of girls who give you a filthy look as you walk past them with Rafe.

Rafe squeezed your waist after you snapped at the girls, "remember what I said princess."

You rolled your eyes as you let out a huff at his comment but on the inside you wanted to get on your knees for that man. There's something about the way the word princess rolls off his tongue.

Rafe and you parted ways after spending a majority of time together in the first half n hour. He went to hang out with the guys, while you are with some of your girlfriends. You two trust each other enough to be away from each other at parties like these.

He was out on the balcony which wasn't far from where you were. So if anything were to happen he would be there in a second.

Your girlfriends and you were in the living room, sitting on the couch with drinks in our hands after dancing for thirty minutes in the large crowd to the music which was still packed with sweaty bodies rubbing against one another.

"This party is packed," Olivia, one of your girlfriends, exclaimed while gazing around.

The rest of you are nodding in agreement with Olivia's comment.

"Josh will have a lot to pick up in the morning," you say, taking a sip from your drink, talking about the guy who's hosting the party.

You noticed the group of girls you snapped at earlier walking up to where you and your friends were seated; they stood close enough for you to hear what they were saying.

You tell your friends about the little incident. They all agreed it wasn't that big of a deal. You were wondering why they were giving you a dirty look for no reason.

"Can you believe that bitch came in with her guy earlier? I can't believe Rafe is even with that girl," the girl shouts to her friends, clearly affected by the situation. Her friends all agreed and saying their imput.

Who do these girls think they are? You think.

Thalia's jaw dropped as she heard what the girl said. Thalia rushes to look at you, but she already sees you standing up to confront the group of girls.

"This isn't going to end well, get Rafe right now," Olivia runs towards Thalia, pointing to the balcony.

Thalia sprints to the balcony to grab Rafe and the guys. Olivia looks in your direction with worry- she knows you like the back of her hand.

"Like Rafe can do so much better than that sl-" The girl was cut off when you poked her on the shoulder. She turns around about to see who tapped her but shuts her mouth when it's you.

"You wanna finish what you were gonna say?" You ask in a serious tone, crossing your arms over your chest, "because it's really funny hearing you lame asses talking shit about me over something so minor," you remark with a straight face.

Your blood was boiling.

The girl that was talking the most scoffs, putting her hair over her shoulder. "I said that Rafe can do much better than being with a slut like you" she steps close to your face.

Her little posy agreed and putting in their input.

These bitches sound dumb.

You can't help but laugh: "You sound very insecure, you all do in fact," pointing at them. "Calling me a bitch because I clapped back cause you three were giving me a dirty look when I walked in mind my business with my boyfriend?" The tone in your voice indicated that you were not messing around.

She puts her index finger on your chest, "Oh honey that's not us being insecure it's just us stating facts. Plus you are a bitch" she says giving a fake smile.

The moment her finger laid on your chest everything in you was telling you to rip her face off.

You forcefully swap her hand off your chest, taking her off guard with your strength. She glances at you, slightly afraid, but remains calm. Her friends' eyes almost fell out of their sockets.

Other's around have their phones out and waiting for something to happen. To them this is entertainment.

"Am I a bitch for calling you out for giving me a dirty look? Listen, bitch, I have never met you before in my life. I don't care what comes out of my mouth because I'll say what needs to be said." At this point, you are eating the girl up and she has nothing else to say since she knows you are correct.

After you finish your sentence, she rolls her eyes and extends her arms, pushing you back slightly, taking you by surprise. She glances at you, still wanting more. You aren't the kind to fight, but she put her hands on you first.

Your girlfriends rush over immediately. No matter what happens your girls will always have your back.

Before you swung you felt two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you away from the fight that's about to happen.

"What did I tell you princess?" Rafe calmly asks you in your ear. He could feel the tension in your body on a hundred.

The group of girls begin giggling, "Aw, you need your boyfriend to pull you away from that mu-" Rafe instantly hushed her up, "You shut the fuck up!" he said sternly, pointing at her and gazing at her straight-faced.

Others around started laughing.

Rafe halted in front of the host, Josh, and told him to kick the group of girls out of the party. Josh nods and instructs the girls to leave due of the ruckus they created.

Rafe took you upstairs to a room for you to cool down. He knows what to do in situations like these- always gives you reassurance, gives you a cold bottle of water, telling you that everything's going to be okay and to take deep breath's.

When your body is placed on the bed carefully, you let out a frustrated sigh, running your hands through your hair, shaking your head. Ranting about the encounter that happened.

Rafe stands between your open legs, gently grasping your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, and tilting your head back slightly to make eye contact with him.

"Princess you are okay, focus on the sound of my voice, yeah?" He says in a calming tone that relaxes you, placing the front section of your hair behind your ear.

The more Rafe calms you down the more relaxed you feel. Words cannot explain how you appreciated him. You can't imagine how you could get out of this moment without him helping you out of it.

"There you go, just keep repeating that," Rafe says as you take long breathes in and out.

Once you calmed down enough you looked up to Rafe, still standing between your legs, looking at you with his blue eyes.

"Thank you for calming me down- I love you," you say, smiling with your teeth, "of course, anything for my girl. I know how you get in these types of situations and it's my job to calm you down" he says before kissing your lips softly.

When he pulls away you ask him the question, "Are you mad at me?" You asked curiously.

"No, I'm not, but it was really hot seeing you like that," he grins as he plays with the gold necklace he got you with his first initial.

You cover your face with your palm, blushing. Rafe takes your hand away, putting it back on your lap and moving closer to you, causing your back to hit the bed's comforter.

You two look into each other's eyes and then kiss. The sexual tension in the room starts to rise. You both crave each other's touch in the most intimate way.

"I want you Rafe," you moan between kisses, "so bad" dragging out the d, running your hands down his clothed chest.

"I'm all yours."

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pixiesfz · 4 months

Note

would you write for alexia putellas?

okay I always find it hard to write for Alexia but I finally thought of a good plot

inspired by Olivia Rodrigo's unaired song

prison for life a.p

plot: you've always been independent in life but when Alexia walks in you cant help but want her to protect you.

warning: idk

You sat in front of an interviewer in front of the goal posts as he asked questions about your new signing to Barcelona FC.

"So what caused the change from United to here?" he asked and you smiled "Change of scenery I think, there is nothing wrong with the club and I cherish every memory I have there" The interviewer nodded his head "So you don't feel for the comments saying you are moving just to get wins under your belt?" he asked slowly, almost as if he was scared to ask the question.

Your eyes slightly squinted at him but you leaned back as you remembered it is only his job "I'm a big girl" you smirked "I'm not going to listen to comments left on my Instagram because they're not the ones controlling my movements, I am" you said with a nod.

The interviewer smiled, impressed with your answer as the camera stopped rolling "You're very good with the media" he complimented you as he packed up his set "thanks" you smiled before returning to practice.

As you reached the other side of the pitch Keira turned to you "any personalized questions?" she asked and you shrugged "talked a little bit about the rumors of why I moved but that's all" Keira nodded "I will say in this team you get asked more personal questions so I'm here if you need" she suggested and you nodded "I'll be fine" you reassured her "yeah?" she asked "I'm good at protecting myself".

You had moved to Barcelona for a change of scenery but to also spend more time with your girlfriend Alexia who lived and breathed the club.

She was injured at the moment so she wasn't at a lot of the trainings and would appear at some games, she was very protective but you knew that... to an extent.

Your whole life you had protected yourself from the prying eyes of others and didn't rely on anyone else so whenever someone offered to help you, you always declined.

They didn't need to, you had yourself sorted.

But as your early weeks turned into months at Barcelona more interviewers and fans started asking more questions and players on the pitch were starting to recognize some of your go to traits which ended in more tackles, risky tackles.

You had never played in the same team as Alexia yet but as she was getting better and sat on the bench you saw her eyes darken whenever a tackle on you was played.

When the game ended you walked over to the bench where she sat and took the water bottle she had out for you "you know if looks could kill Ellie Carpenter would be six feet under" you joked as the girl had slide tackled you at least five times during the game.

"I don't like it when they try and hurt you" she shrugged and you smiled, leaning over to place her hair behind her ear "it's apart of the game Ale, it's her job and she is good at it." you told the blonde and she rolled her eyes "they hurt you, I hurt them" she shrugged before walking off into the change rooms.

You stayed in your place as you watched her go.

"She's so protective of you" Mapi scoffed as she watched your interaction with Ingred "you know it wouldn't hurt if you were that protective over me" Ingred teased "Alexia would go to prison for life if anyone laid a finger on her"

You furrowed your eyebrows at the couple as they walked away from you still babbling about how Mapi could be more protective of Ingred.

You looked around the crowd before walking around to say hello and sign t-shirts for the crowd.

You always did the lap, some girls stopped every now and then because some of the fans could be too much but you were always good, protecting yourself when something would go too far.

But when a man tried to convince you to take off your playing shirt and give it to him you thought about Mapi's words.

You wish you had Alexia here to protect you.

But you had never invited her too, always making excuses for people or sticking up for yourself.

You knew you could protect yourself but you wouldn't mind Alexia saving you.

You bid the man farewell as he groaned at your non-willingness to take off the top.

When you went home that night you took another hot shower as Alexia cooked dinner you couldn't stop smiling over the fact that Alexia cared so much about you.

When you got out of the shower and changed, you went to the kitchen and wrapped your arms around Alexia's toned stomach.

"comfortable?" she asked and you nodded "very" Alexia laughed "almost done, go put something on the TV" she suggested and you nodded, kissing her back which was covered by a singlet and walking to the couch and picking a television show.

You sat in the corner as you waited for Alexia, your mind wondering into situations where Alexia could save you and how her arms could hold you oh her arms-

"penny for your thoughts?" Alexia said as she put your plate down in front of you "not thinking much" you shrugged and Alexia rolled her eyes "I know when something is on your mind amor" she said and you ducked your head into your arms out of embarrassment.

"It's silly"

"I doubt it is" Alexia moved closer to you and picked up your head with her fingers so you would face her "are you okay?"

"I'm fine I just-" you stopped yourself and Alexia nodded for you to go along.

"Well my whole life I've always stood up for myself and solved my all problems" you started and Alexia nodded "I know, it's one of the things I love about you"

You blushed as she kissed your cheek "And today when I saw your eyes on the pitch and then what you said after the game I realized that I can also allow you to protect me" you said softly

"And I just really like the fact that I have you and that you care about me so much to even suggest hurting someone who hurt me" you laughed at the end.

"I would do more than just hurt them" Alexia quipped and you smirked "would you say you would end up going to prison?" you asked, thinking of Mapi's comment from earlier.

"For life".

#woso x reader #woso #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader

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sugawarassoulmate · 1 year

Text

someone else tries to get with them

feat: bully!osamu, best friend!iwa, and rich bf!sakusa inspired by

part 2

cw: fem!reader

bully!osamu

you wanted to be anywhere but here right now, listening to this girl act as if she was your friend. you'd much rather be home, or at work, or at the library—quite literally anywhere but in front of this person you barely knew.

"i just think that osamu is a bit more extroverted and you might be too shy for him!" she said in a shrill, condescending voice. "he's always going to all these parties and i always see him talking to people...maybe he should date someone that's a more like him, you know?"

she must not know osamu all that well. he only goes to those parties because his brother or one of his friends drags him there and he spends the entire night blowing up your phone. as for talking to people, osamu can barely remember the name of his own lab partner, so it wouldn't surprise you if he got into meaningless conversations with people just to pass the time.

but on the surface, it looks as if one of the most popular guys on campus decided to date his weird, quiet childhood best friend and some people appeared to have a problem with that.

you tried to walk away from the conversation but the girl was persistent, not letting you leave until you vowed to leave osamu alone.

"don't you think it's selfish to stay with him when the two of you are so different?"

before you could respond—what you were going to say, you still had no idea—you were yanked into a solid figure, one you immediately recognized as your boyfriend already huffing in annoyance.

"been lookin' everywhere fer ya, jesus christ," he chastises, planting a quick kiss on the side of your head. "c'mon, let's go home—"

"samu! hiiii, i was actually just talking about y—"

osamu doesn't pay the girl any mind, rolling his eyes as he continues talking to you. "who the fuck is that? this is why i can't leave ya alone, babe. yer always talkin' to weirdos, let's go."

osamu pulls you away to talk about plans for dinner, leaving the strange girl dumbfounded by what she just witnessed.

best friend!iwa

"do you know if iwaizumi is seeing anyone?" the girl asked as she approached you on campus. it wasn't uncommon for random girls to come out of the woodwork to ask you about your best friend—he's a sweet, respectful, incredibly handsome man.

most of these girls figured that if they could get on your sweet side, they could get closer to their dream man. little did they know you were judging them every second they spoke to you.

when was the last time she even bothered washing her hair? or ew, her voice is annoying, haji would hate that. you let them get through their whole spiel, how they've liked iwa for ages but didn't know how to approach him and how they have a whole date planned, only for you to throw down the proverbial hammer.

"i'm sorry, haji isn't actually interested in dating anyone right now. he's really focused on his studies," you said confidently, watching the light in their eyes die.

"oh, but—"

"yeah, i would really give up if i were you," you shrugged, walking away before she could get another word in.

if anything, you were doing iwa a favor. there was no way he'd be interested in a girl like that. besides, if he got into a relationship now, he'd be too distracted to spend time with you.

"who were you talking you?" iwaizumi asks a bit later, noticing the weird interaction you had with a girl he didn't recognize.

"ugh, just another bimbo asking me about oikawa again," you lied so easily, throwing your legs over iwaizumi's lap as the two of you sat in the campus lounge. "you'd think they'd give it a break already."

iwaizumi doesn't question it. why would he? as far as he knew, you had nothing to gain by lying to him.

rich bf!sakusa

sakusa told you he had to take an important phone call and stepped away, leaving you in the shop. though, you weren't left alone for long. a few moments later you could hear incessant giggling behind you and after a while, you got the feeling it was about you.

turning around, you see a face that you're sure you've seen before but couldn't exactly place where. she must have known you, though, as she had no issue judging you with her eyes. "so kiyoomi does leave his little pet unattended. it's hard to recognize you when you're not in his shadow."

she was flanked on either side by one of her equally pompous, identical-looking friends, who both laughed at her cruel joke.

"excuse me?" fully turning around, you finally got a good look at the woman and realized that she was the daughter of a colleague that sakusa's father knew. you vaguely remembered your boyfriend complaining about having to entertain his father's guests during a boring gala a few weeks ago.

it wasn't uncommon for women to flaunt themselves at sakusa. he was the son of a prominent ceo, the heir to a successful company, and is absolutely breathtaking when he bothers to put his face mask down.

"it's just cute that kiyoomi still bothers to keep you around but he's always loved doing charity work." you weren't sure what was worse, her pathetic attempts to get a rise out of you or the shrill laughter of her air-headed friends. "our fathers are very close so don't be surprised when i'm the one on his arm whenever he gets tired of you."

"i'll be sure to remember that," you shrug your shoulders, turning your attention back to the rack of stupid clothes sakusa wanted you to try on. another day, another stupid business dinner with more spoiled brats of his father's stupid colleagues.

you tried to ignore the constant snicker, how they loudly wondered if you could even afford the clothes you were looking at—of course, you couldn't but sakusa loved to spoil you despite your attempts to dissuade him.

the teasing gets the better of you and you're about to snap back at them when the noises finally stop. you weren't sure when sakusa walked back into the store but he's by your side, staring daggers at the girl and her clique.

"and you shouldn't be surprised if my father never does business with yours again," he says curtly. his features soften the second he locks eyes with you. "here, babe. this gown will look perfect on you. go try it on for me."

the other girl tries to get a word in but she's stopped dead in her tracks by sakusa's harsh gaze returning to her. "you can go. i don't associate with trash."

the trio of mean girls drop the pieces they were looking at and scurry out of the store before they could embarrass themselves yet again. "do we still have to do this dumb business dinner?"

sakusa snorts, pushing you towards the dressing room. "of course, love, don't be foolish. you're going to be the most beautiful woman there.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #osamu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyu headcanons #🥀#🥀osamu #🥀iwaizumi #🥀sakusa #bully!osamu #best friend!iwaizumi #rich bf!sakusa

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meggtheegg · 7 months

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FNAF Movie Theory...

I'm pretty sure there's still one major plot twist in the universe of the movie that's been set up for a sequel but hasn't actually happened yet. Heavy spoilers under the cut:

After watching the movie in theaters and then revisiting a few scenes on Peacock, I'm still kind of convinced that Mike Schmidt is Michael Afton.

Here's my reasoning. A lot of the characters spend time acting like they know something the audience/other characters don't, and those things are...mostly resolved. But some of them just...kind of aren't.

The main thing that sticks out to me is William's whole storyline. Starting with the scene where he offers Mike the job, his behavior is almost explained by the movie's logic. He sees Mike's name, seems...kind of deeply upset, looks at him very closely, stands to get coffee, and has a moment of visible internal conflict. Then he instantly offers him the Freddy's job. The way the movie frames this, it seems to be saying that he recognized the name of one of his victims, realized this was the kid's brother, and decided to kill him right then and there. Which is passable as an explanation, but it has a lot of holes, if you look deeper.

Why would William so instantly recognize a fairly common last name as the brother of some kid he killed that wasn't even anywhere near Freddy's? Why did he kidnap/kill Garrett in the first place, in some random forest in Nebraska? Why did he see the name on the file, then immediately stop and examine Mike's face so closely, when Mike's memories/dreams pretty clearly show that they never saw each others' faces when Garrett was taken? Why did he send Vanessa to "keep Mike in the dark" if he purposely gave him the job to get him killed? Why not have the animatronics kill him right away? He didn't know that Mike was searching for the man who took his brother, and while he could have maybe guessed he was still actively haunted by what happened based on Mike beating up a guy that he thought was kidnapping someone, it still feels like a weird choice to go and hire him, then just have him do the job with no issue for a few days.

As for Vanessa, we see that she's been cleaning up William's messes for years. Why is Mike the one she changes her mind and stands up to her father for? There's no implied romance between the two and no particularly meaningful connection beyond them both having family issues. I guess she cares about Abby because she's a kid, but kids getting hurt clearly never stopped her from helping her father before.

And, on a more meta level, this is Scott and his storytelling style we're talking about. The man puts plot twists inside of plot twists and everything always ties back into the Aftons, somehow.

So, here's my theory: I think that Mike is William's kid, but Mike's mom left Afton when he was young and remarried the man that Mike thinks is his father.

It seems convoluted and maybe cliche, but if it's true, then suddenly there's an answer to all of those questions. "Michael Schmidt" isn't exactly an eye-catching name, unless you had a kid named Michael and your ex-wife married a guy with the last name Schmidt. Garrett's kidnapping, then, becomes an act of intentional, petty revenge rather than an extremely random coincidence. Giving Mike the job and sending in Vanessa suddenly becomes about piecing together how much he knows and figuring out if he's worth trying to reconnect with or is just a threat that needs to be killed. (It feels worth noting that William is as far as I can remember the only person to call him Michael in the whole film. He also very pointedly never says "Schmidt" until he's decided to kill Mike and suddenly announces his full name out loud. If he went by Michael as a little kid, that is what William would default to calling him, but if he took the new husband's last name, that would be like like salt in the wound that he wouldn't want to voice. By finally saying it out loud, it feels like he's making the decision to fully separate himself from Mike.)

As for Vanessa, if Mike is her brother, it makes sense that he would be the person she'd turn against William to save. It would be weird for her not to tell him, but she could also be trying to protect him, in some way. There's never any mention of her mother, and it seems like it's just been her and William for a long time. Also, ending the movie with her in a coma feels like a strange narrative choice, but it makes sense if she knows information that's purposely being kept hidden for the sequel.

Of course, it could just be that the movie has kind of messy writing and I'm trying to fix it because I want there to be a deeper reason for it. Maybe there is no Michael Afton in the movies, or maybe he's off chilling and doing his own thing somewhere and we'll see him in the sequel. Only time will tell.

#fnaf movie #fnaf movie spoilers #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy's spoilers #michael afton #mike schmidt

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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months

Note

As a volunteer, do you have anything to say about what the OTW did to bjorn?

To begin with, I’m going to speak in generalities instead of specifics. This is for a couple of reasons. 1) I’ve been on hiatus from the OTW since August because my life got extremely complicated and volunteering wasn’t something I could continue doing right now. 2) As a result of my hiatus, I was not present for any of the events that transpired. This is simply my own opinion based on the available information, so you can feel free to disagree.

Now, as to your phrasing. You say “what the OTW did to bjorn” and I ask, “What did the OTW do to them?” From the meager information I’ve seen, all of which has been provided by bjorn themselves, they left the OTW of their own accord because they were unhappy with being talked to about their behaviour. This behaviour occurred in the OTW’s chat space which, for those of you who don’t know, is the OTW’s workspace. As a fully online organization, that platform is the equivalent of their office.

bjorn was in that shared workspace, and they set their name to include the phrase “Palestine will be free.” Later, they changed it to “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.” They were told that the first phrase made some people uncomfortable but that they were allowed to continue using it. They were told the second was unacceptable and that they should stop using it. bjorn chose to continue using the second phrasing.

Why is the second phrase seen as unacceptable? A quick google took me to the Anti Defamation League’s explanation of its antisemitism. That same google also provided me with Al Jazeera’s explanation of its complicated history. As a person who is neither Israeli nor Palestinian and as someone who hasn’t spent years studying the history of the region or the complexities of the conflict there, I’m comfortable with the idea that it’s a nuanced issue that different people will see in different ways, and I have personally decided that I should probably avoid using an expression whose interpretation varies so wildly.

Here, I will digress to remind everyone that the OTW is an international volunteer organization. That means there are volunteers there from all over the world - including Israel and Palestine. As far as I’m aware, bjorn is not from that region of the world.

So we have someone using a controversial phrase in a workplace setting where there are people who are immediately affected by the current conflict. My assumption is that they were not doing this to be intentionally aggressive. While I do recognize their name, there are nearly 1000 volunteers at the OTW so I’m afraid I don’t remember this one individual. I’m willing to give them the benefit of the doubt here, however, and assume that they were not calling for the eradication of all Jews.

I can also, however, understand why anyone who has seen this same phrase used as a justification for terrorist attacks would have difficulty doing the same.

From what I saw in the original post, bjorn was given a warning about their behaviour and then a more formal letter when it continued. CCAP (Constructive Corrective Action Procedure) has a pretty dystopian sound to it, but it’s basically just a conversation between a manager (Chair) and an employee (volunteer) when the employee has kinda messed up a little bit and the manager wants to get them back on track. If the CCAP goes well, then the volunteer is back in good standing and the situation can be put behind them. It’s only if the volunteer and their Chair are unable to get things back on track that the volunteer will be asked to leave the Org. As far as I know, that’s only happened a handful of times (but I’m no expert, and I’m still on hiatus so I can’t go and try to look things up)

bjorn apparently chose option #3, which is to leave the OTW rather than go through that process. That’s a perfectly fine decision to make, and I’m sure they’re not the first volunteer to do so. It was their choice, though. The OTW didn’t kick them out. The OTW didn’t force them out. The OTW told them “this is inappropriate behaviour in an international workplace setting,” and bjorn decided to leave rather than change that behaviour.

I have nothing against bjorn, and I hope their post-OTW life is a good one. However, I've seen posts that have been using bjorn's situation as a way to claim the OTW is a “Zionist organization.” I would like to remind everyone that the OTW is an organization dedicated to the preservation of fanworks. What role do people expect the OTW to take in an international negotiation between Israel and Palestine? How many international policy volunteers do people think they have, and which committee do people think they belong to? Technical Support? Communications?

I’m trending towards sarcasm here but it’s only because I can’t quite believe that there really are people who seem to believe that the OTW - again a fanwork preservation organization - is attempting to do anything at all with regards to an international conflict.

If anyone out there hates the OTW, I encourage them to avoid OTW’s various projects and to decline the biannual opportunities to donate, but please don't generate or share conspiracy theories. There are more than enough of them going around already.

#long post

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pshcomforts · 4 months

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➳ shameless | psh.

highschool!sunghoon x fem!reader

“there’s just inches between us”

synopsis: you and sunghoon are academic rivals, always going head to head.

warnings/content: written in third pov. cursing. not proofread. sexual tension. kind of suggestive? a little bit of idiots in love. sunghoon gets jealous.. and possessive? reader’s always late to class but somehow still has the best grade. (this one’s my favorite so far)

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 3.9k

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s partner), min-su (heeseung’s partner), and ji-woo (jake’s partner).

current song playing: shameless by camila cabello

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

2:35 ──────────────|───── -1:04

another day, another struggle of being late to class.

y/n sighed as she checked her phone for the time.

[ 10:42am ] — it read. she felt her heart weigh down at the given time. “fucking late again..,” she groaned while speed walking her legs to class. an unusual amount of notifications blew up her silenced phone, indicating that her friends were questioning her whereabouts.

“come on, i gotta make it.” the girl harshly huffed in quiet and unsteady breaths. “mr. lee’s gonna kill me.”

in minutes, she found herself booming through the door with only deep breaths audible. [ 10:56am ] — her phone beamed.

“made it..,” she murmured through her harsh gasps for air.

“y/n, you made it!” yelled her friend, dae, who had widened eyes. “well to second period but..”

“y..yeah, hold on… give me a second.” her hands smacked down on his desk as her head lowered with exhaustion.

dae giggled at her state. “did you run here?”

“i basically did!” she yelled out, causing him and their two other friends — min-su and ji-woo to laugh as well.

“you’re who i have to beat and yet you can’t even get to class on time?” a voice from behind jerkily snorted.

y/n’s head instantly bolted up at that familiar, stupid tone she could easily recognize. “shut the hell up, park. you’re here more than me and yet your scores are lower, you really wanna mention who’s beating who?” she shot back with an intense glare.

her rival, sunghoon, only chuckled in a laugh at her words. “your score was lower than mine last test, second place. i don’t think you should be talking either.” he let a stupidly handsome smirk tug onto his lips.

she rolled her eyes, blood beginning to boil the more she looked at him. “who’s grade is higher hm? exactly.” the girl uttered, before turning her full back to him.

she heard him humor a chuckle before giving a faint ruffle to her hair. “we’ll see about that, nerd.” her hands went to the messy strands, huffing out an annoyed sigh as he left with a playful smile plastered.

her friends giggled at their relationship.

“girl, you and sunghoon need to get together already.” ji-woo chimed with a teasing grin.

y/n’s face morphed into disgust before furiously shaking her head. “are you crazy?? i could never be with someone like him.”

“your dynamic is cute though. a little disgusting, but cute.” min-su added in, shrugging her shoulders afterward.

“puh-lease. he hates me and i hate him, nothing could change that.”

dae’s brows slightly raised. “mhm… okay..,” he murmured.

“look, just because you guys are dating his friends, that doesn’t mean i should date him. he’s too much of an asshole anyway, who would even like him?”

she would. the girl was in complete denial, turning all her confused love into misdirected fuel for competition.

he was a distraction and she made sure she’d always see it that way. he couldn’t possibly differ her from the strong perspective she had of him being the hot, asshole nerd he was.

he was attractive, maybe a little too attractive; but his personality couldn’t agree with that. as her academic rival, he joked and played around with her, enjoying the little reactions he could get out of the cold, heartless girl.

but she couldn’t say she liked the teasings she’d receive from him. she could never admit to it because no matter how appealing he’d may be, he was still competition.

“well we’re not saying you should-“

ji-woo’s words were cut off by the entrance of mr. lee and their widely known friend, jay.

heads were turned and confused faces had morphed in onto each student.

“class, this is park jongseong from mr. yang’s class. he’s transferred to ours so his schedule can fit a few other classes, please welcome him,” he announced to everyone.

y/n’s eyes twinkled with delight at the sight of her friend who was awkwardly waving to his new peers. “hello..,” she heard him beam with a smile.

“you’re welcome to choose whichever empty seat you’d like. i’d suggest sitting next to either of my top two students, y/n,” mr. lee pointed to her, “or sunghoon. both are great choices to choose for catching up with our class.”

given that jay was a friend of both, he remained a little unsure before ultimately deciding to sit next to y/n.

he placed himself on the right side of her, giving sunghoon a clear shot of the two alarmingly close to each other. he let a puff of air slip by his lips as he subtly rolled his eyes.

“could’ve sat next to me but chose to sit next to that loser?” he silently fumed in his seat, forcing his attention away from the two who were conversing.

sunghoon didn’t know why but his heart was burning, aching almost. he’s never felt this way before. seeing how the girl he attempted to hate smile and smack his friend’s shoulders churned his stomach.

his jaw clenched and his ears fell deaf on everything else once he heard his rival call him — “park.”

“park?? park?” he guffawed with a loud, clear scoff in his throat. “she’s calling him park? my nickname she has for me??”

he angrily folded his arms as he tried to keep himself quiet. his mouth continued to spew out a few other words about her existence, along with some curse words added in for jay’s part before being interrupted — “why are you so loud?”

his head whipped to the right, meeting eyes with his friend, heeseung whose head was laying on the desk. “almost everyone can hear you, hoon. you’re showing that you like her a little too much.” the older male teased with a shit eating grin.

sunghoon exhaled a long breath before uttering a quiet — “shut up” to his friend. just then, a little note was thrown onto his desk, catching his attention.

his head cocked to the side in confusion before turning to the direction of where the paper came from.

in seconds, he found ji-woo’s boyfriend, jake, mouthing ‘open it.’

his hands crumbled it open and found the words — ‘are you jealous?’ — written on it.

hoon’s face immediately wore a frown as his brows furrowed back to his friend. in return, jake motioned for him to write back with his hand doing little scribbly lines.

he groaned out a soft sigh before complying to his friends words. ‘jealous about what?’ he wrote, faking his coy state to hide how he felt.

he gave a harsh toss back to jake, allowing the aussie to open it with a ‘pft’ leaving his lips afterward.

‘don’t act stupid, you’re looking sus ඞ’ — written back to sunghoon.

jake tried to throw it back to him but with such a bad angle toss, it ended up landing on jungwon’s desk.

he cocked a brow at the crumbled paper, opening it to find the two different sets of colored words — red from sunghoon and black from jake.

won turned to sunghoon with an eyebrow raise, giving a quick toss back to him, not before adding in his own input of course.

‘hoon’s jealous? about what? y/n? (⚆ ̫ ⚆)’ — colored blue to the tall boy.

sunghoon gave an annoyed grunt after reading his friend’s words. almost a little too harshly, his hands quickened in a pace before throwing it to jungwon once more.

‘i’m not jealous (ง •̀_•́)ง’— he rolled his eyes at his confirmation. “me? jealous?” he quietly scoffed in disbelief.

before he could toss it to jungwon’s desk, a snatch from the right was made to the paper, indicating that heeseung had caught on to their little game.

he crumbled it open, raising his brows and widening his eyes in amusement. sunghoon softly sighed as he watched the older male start writing as well. “great.. heeseung’s in on this now too.” he whispered under his breath.

min-su’s boyfriend finished his thought and gracefully threw it to jake. ‘he’s such a liar, i heard him just minutes ago talking about them (ఠꍓఠ)’ — heeseung wrote in green.

the younger boy silently laughed, widening his bright smile as he scribbled a few words back. ‘hoonie has a crush (ꗞ _ ꗞ)’ — he threw to y/n’s rival.

sunghoon opened the note before rolling his eyes and clenching his already-tense jaw. his hand wrote out his thoughts, pen undeniably denting the paper in frustration.

the passing of the note went around the four for a while, eventually reaching niki and sunoo as well; jay staying mindless to all of it because well, he was still talking to y/n.

the two conversing and turning to one another for a peer talk was the view from sunghoon’s perspective.

soon enough, mr. lee caught on as well, and just with luck on its side, sunghoon was the one to be seen with the passed note.

“one of my star students? really?” the teacher uttered in a slight scoff.

hoon’s head instantly lowered at the obvious disappointment present in his teacher’s tone. he’s never felt this sort of fizzling letdown before and he didn’t know how to take it.

“what? no, i-“ he tried to justify, only to be cut off by mr. lee — “i’m fairly disappointed, sunghoon. i expected more.”

everyone’s eyes were on him and all he could do was have an embarrassing amount of blush on his cheeks.

“you’ll serve detention for disrupting my class after school today. see me then.”

his head lowered even more, avoiding the judgmental stares received from his peers.

a snicker then came from the direction of where his rival was at. a poorly hidden snicker at that.

y/n softly snorted out laughter, hands attempting to cover her mouth but doing it very horribly with the fact that her worst enemy was just embarrassed.

sunghoon shot a glance to her, teary eyes narrowing at the girl before shifting to jay who was trying to quiet her down. there it was again. his heart painfully throbbed at how his friend interacted with her.

“well if you think it’s so funny y/n, you can join sunghoon for detention as well,” mr. lee spat to her.

almost immediately, her eyes widened at his words. “what?? but-“

“can’t wait,�� he intruded with a push to his glasses. “would anyone else like to join my two students who i thought were my academic weapons before i return back to this lesson? no? okay, let’s proceed.”

min-su, ji-woo, dae, and the rest of the enhypen members avoided eye contact from the two

y/n fumed in her seat, grumbling out quiet curse words to herself as she rolled her eyes. “he gets in trouble but i somehow get sucked in? pft, asshole.” she mumbled, putting the blame on him even though it was her own fault.

from the back, hoon placed his hand over his mouth to cover himself from sneering a laugh. sure, he hated the fact that he was about to spend more time with the girl he hated (liar), but he felt satisfied that she got in just as much trouble as him. then the thought of having to see her again clouded his head, and it pissed him off once more.

karma really was a bitch.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

hours passed through the school day, and ms. choi was the last and final teacher.

with just a few minutes left, she caught everyone’s attention. ”your tests have finally been graded, so scores will be out soon. please look out for it on the bulletin board when you get the chance.” she said, giving an approval head nod seconds after the bell rang to head over.

students scattered around to the bulletin board, little pushes and shoves were made as most of y/n’s friend group rushed for their score.

“a 95! yes!” screamed ji-woo.

“92! i can live with this,” dae pointed out.

“93! holy shit, i passed!” min-su yelled.

y/n’s eyes widened. “97?? OH MY GOD! i actually passed! all that hard work paid off!” she shouted, jumping up and down in glee.

the academic group cheered together, giving hops in their designated stance all at once. they circled around, still in oblivious glee before y/n had come in contact with sunghoon’s score.

68.

her heart dropped a little for him. she immediately stopped her jumps and examined the paper.

eight rankings.. the boy went down by eight rankings, no longer being her competition for now.

she didn’t know how to feel. for as long as she could remember, they’d been going head to head for first place, and now she’s got the upper hand.

y/n was finally in the lead and for once, sunghoon wasn’t the runner up.

her eyes continuously looked over at his score. she couldn’t even lie, she’d be in distress if her score went low like that.

‘wait- no way i feel bad for him?? i should be happy that i’m finally rank one by myself.’ she thought, scoffing in disbelief with how she almost felt sympathetic for a jerk named sunghoon. but she’d understand him — the disappointed looks from his family, the eating guilt from doing bad, the expectations to never failing again — she knew what it was like.

and it was then that y/n shifted her attention from her friends to across the hall where he was. her heart instantly thumped in pity as she watched his strikingly, attractive face turn sour with every step he took.

the look of disappointment was clear in his facial expression, and she could see it herself. she almost wore a frown when watching him slowly disassociate from his conversation with the enhypen members — something that only she noticed.

the girl watched him excuse himself to leave, then it clicked into her head that she had detention with him.

“aw fuck!” she cursed aloud, catching her friend’s attentions.

“what?” asked ji-woo with a head tilt.

“she has detention with sunghoon,” jake chimed from behind, slinging an arm around his girlfriend.

min-su and dae snickered in laughs before y/n exhausted a groan. “shut up!” she yelled to them.

“have fun,” min-su’s boyfriend, heeseung, teased with a sly smile.

“you know she won’t baby,” his girl intervened, following his smile and mirroring the evil grin he had.

the single girl rolled her eyes after noticing their friends link arms with their significant others.

“it’ll be over soon, y/n. just ignore him!” dae yelled. “i mean you could talk to him but..,”

“babe, does it really look like she wants to talk to him?” jungwon asked, planting a soft peck onto his boyfriend’s cheeks afterwards.

“well i’d rather be in there than seeing all this couple stuff.” y/n refuted, huffing out a breath of air before leaving to detention in defeat.

she left the scene, hearing the remaining words of jay scream out — “i’m staying after school for a bit, so say hi if you see me!”

when she approached the class, she felt her heartbeats in her throat. she softly clenched her chest. ‘what is this feeling? pft, this is stupid,’ the girl thought while entering in.

“y/n, good to see you’ve finally arrived on time. take a seat right there,” mr. lee spoke with another push to his glasses.

a red color picked at her cheeks when she met eyes with her arch rival, sunghoon. being announced that she wasn’t late for once in front of the person she hated was way too humiliating.

but then she remembered that he got a low score and she suddenly felt better.

y/n sat across the room from him, making sure that she’d breathe no same air as him. she gave a soft sigh as she checked her phone.

[ 3:17pm ] — it read.

it’s gonna be a long while.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

about an hour passed, and detention was almost over.

the entire time the two were stuck in there, it remained silent. tension filled the air with every quiet glance they could get, every small glimpse they could steal from each other.

a few minutes later, and mr. lee had finally announced they could leave.

“i sincerely hope that my two star pupils won’t disrupt my class again, have a great rest of your day.” he murmured, lips firmly pressed together to emphasize disappointment.

y/n groaned out a sigh once the teacher had made his exit. “finally gonna go home,” she mumbled under her breath.

a clink from behind was made, indicating that sunghoon was still in the class. she gave a quick stink eye and though he couldn’t see it, she felt stupidly proud of herself.

she exited out before he could, head directly staring down onto her phone, causing her face to meet a very broad chest.

y/n shot her head up, expecting to see a stranger but instead saw a familiar face. “oh jay! you stayed!” she yelled.

his face beamed a bright smile before nudging her head. “yeah i had to for a class, how was it spending time with sunghoon?” his brows raised in amusement, enjoying how frustrated she got.

“shut up, park!” she cackled, sending a smile and a smack to him.

it was then that sunghoon’s feet were glued to the ground at the door frame. he seethed through the gaps of air in his teeth. there it was again; that stupid pounding in his heart.

the nickname ‘park’ was in a different sense of tone that he’s never heard before. a playful, sweet tone that set him off in the wrong way.

“park?” he unbelievably scoffed.

he watched the two interact from afar, hearing how they unintentionally flirted with each other was boiling his blood. jealous? no. can’t be.

“are you about to leave?” he heard jay ask her with his infamous smirk.

“yep, just waiting for my brother.” y/n beamed, showing him a bright smile that should’ve been for hoon.

the tall male rolled his eyes. she’s never that nice to him.

“i could take you home if you want?” jay asked, lips pressing into a line.

sunghoon’s heart dropped, sank even. taking her home? his arch rival? hell no.

he stepped into the scene with a firm jaw clench. arms folding in an irritated way, he spoke — “i’m gonna talk to y/n, no need to take her home.”

he stared down at jay, unintentionally burning holes into the boy who had accidentally got involved. no sense of indulging familiarity spoke in his eyes because all he could do was drag his enemy away with a tight grip on her wrist.

hoon brought her to a more secluded area, ignoring her confused whines to let go. he loosened his grip, letting go just to grasp her in his hands again. they dug into her shoulders as he pushed her back against the wall.

he furrowed his brows before keeping his gaze down, avoiding eye contact. y/n didn’t say anything as she stared at him in confusion.

only heavy breaths from him were heard before he angrily spat — “you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

his teeth gritted, digging his fingers deeper into her shoulders. he didn’t know why he was acting this way. he just couldn’t stand the fact that she was so close to jay after basically spending an entire day together.

y/n’s brows furrowed at his question. “what? what’s wrong with you? i was just talking to jay.”

hoon’s head picked up at her words, finally locking gaze in a softened look she’s never seen before. “does he mean anything to you?” he croaked in a husky voice.

“he’s just a friend. why are you even asking this? you’re not my boyfriend,” the girl scoffed with a slight smile. “you’d like to be though, wouldn’t you?”

“shut up,” he seethed in a stern expression. his softened eyes turned back to a glare. y/n quickly caught onto the pent up frustration in it, hinting that his test score added in on his outburst. “you don’t know how badly i wanted to pull you away from him today, how badly i should’ve shown him that you’re not his.”

sunghoon’s face inched closer to hers, noses delicately coming in contact. she could feel his breath on hers and all she could do was feel physically weak.

“i should’ve huh?” he uttered in a scoff, trailing his gaze from her lips and back to her eyes. “would you have liked that?”

their lips were close to connecting, grazing against each others. she’d pull in but he’d pull away, and when he’d pull in, she’d pull away as well.

✩ ‘i want you to give in, i want you to give in’ ✩

tension raised and so did their body heat. y/n’s hand was firmly pushed on his chest but she didn’t actually push him away, she just liked having the chance to have her hand lay there. she felt her heartbeats get louder within each second, chest heaving at how close he’s been getting.

✩ ‘there is tension between us’ ✩

“this is not like you, sunghoon.” her brows furrowed more. “you can’t be acting like this.”

“i can’t?” he cracked with a shit eating grin. “and why can’t i?”

his head cocked to the side before questioning with his eyes. “isn’t it better for us to act like this than us acting like enemies?” he inched his lips closer once more, letting just heavy breaths be audible to ears.

✩ ‘i just wanna give in’ ✩

y/n’s hands finally pushed against his chest. “control yourself, park. you’re not my boyfriend.” she repeated, face becoming stern.

“control myself?” he laughingly mocked. “you don’t know how much i’ve been doing that in front of you. i’ve been holding myself back this entire time from doing more, and you want me to control myself, now?”

✩ ‘it’s been a secret for the longest time’ ✩

sunghoon’s grip tightened around her shoulders once more, pressing her harder against the wall.

“look at me, pretty girl.” he spoke, letting one of his hands hold onto her chin.

y/n gulped. her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach at the sudden name change. she’s never seen this side of him before. it was new and unfamiliar, and she liked it.

✩ ‘i need you more than i want to’ ✩

hesitantly, she let her eyes fall on him.

he jerkily smiled, enjoying how his academic rival had now fallen under his touch.

“control myself?” sunghoon restated. “fine, i’ll control myself.”

he quickly backed away, grip loosening and letting go. he watched her fall into ease, hands clenching onto her chest to stop her rapid heartbeats.

a sly smirk curled onto his lips as he raised his brows. “see you tomorrow, nerd.” he uttered, walking away soon afterward so he could have the last say.

y/n stayed still in her stance. her sense of touch almost went numb as she tried to process all of what happened.

she suddenly felt her phone buzzing, indicating that her friend group was calling. her brows pinched together before declining the call, and texting that she’d join when she’d get home.

a breath of air left her mouth once she found a text notification from her rival, sunghoon.

park 👎🏼:

Let’s talk soon, pretty girl.

I don’t think I could ever control myself around you.

nothing would ever be the same between the two again.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

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thinkingaboutjaedyn · 1 month

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fresh out of the salon [k.martin x reader]

prompt: kate gets her hair done after the season ends and you're in love with it

author notes: let me firstly disclaim that i don't know shit about hair outside of black ppl hair 💔 and i hardly know that. secondly, i don't know if kate is a natural blonde with dark roots or a brunette who dyes her hair blonde but im pretty sure she's a natural blonde so.. if she isn't just ignore all the times i call her that. thirdly im still getting kate's personality 🙇🏽‍♀️ so this might not be super accurate to her but whatever. anyways enough yapping, enjoy it.

word of the fic: hair

it was only a few days after iowa's defeat against south carolina. kate was quick to call you when she reached her hotel room; feeling drained from the intense atmosphere during the game and also heartbroken she left her basketball college career off with a loss. you unfortunately couldn't make it due to having to focus on softball season. if iowa had played a home game for the final, you could had comforted your girlfriend afterwards but sadly she was still in ohio; having to do a few promotional shoots for a brand.

having to stay away from you longer than nesscary annoyed the blonde, but money is money so she sucked it up. you two relied on facetime and constant talking to stay connected. your teammates teased you all the time about how you been glued to your phone everytime there was a break at practice, but could they blame you? it's kate we're talking about here.

it's around ten pm when the blonde finally facetimes you. her face being close to the camera once the call connected.

"why am i seeing more of your nose than you, kate?" you giggle. getting comfortable on your bed before putting your attention fully on her. kate makes an obvious pout that you can see very closely with her face almost squished against her phone.

"i want a kiss," the iowa basketball player pulls her face away, not too far, to give you a full look of her lips. you roll your eyes, but internally the cuteness levels going on right now from her were huge. you indulge her before counting down so she was ready to kiss the phone screen the moment you were.

she lays back onto the hotel bed pillows afterwards. a satisfied look on her face; kate was truly the only one who can make you do something as embarrassing as kissing a phone screen. you take in her full appearance now. the blonde had obviously slip on some pajamas after coming to her hotel room from the shoot. a matching hello kitty matching pajama set that you recognized as yours is on her body.

"who said you could take my clothes?" you make a fake angry expression that just makes kate shake her head in amusement. "i did and i'm your girlfriend, so deal with it," kate says.

you roll your eyes before noticing a slight difference with kate. her hair looks slightly different than how it was when she left iowa. the darkish blonde of the player now has nicely done highlights on them. when did kate get her hair done? and why didn't she tell you?

the silence from your side of the line makes kate pout, "talk to me, baby. i missed your voice all day."

a flutter goes through your chest at her words; kate always knew what to say to have you swooning. "you got your hair done!" you say. she giggles, looking away from the screen in shyness. the player wasn't used to someone noticing things about her appearance. it was a new feeling of appreciation that makes kate crave to be near you even more.

"yeah. since i was doing those photoshoots, i thought it would be best to give my hair some new life," kate leaves out the part about how the loss to south carolina made her cry and immediately want to go to the salon to feel new again the moment she left the stadium (in the end only getting her hair done earlier today), but that's a topic for later. two things could be true at once though.

"but no selfies?" it was now your turn to pout. feeling slightly sad that your girlfriend didn't send a selfie your way after the first step she took out of the salon. kate wants to kiss away your pout so badly, but can't; curse nil deals.

"i was going to, baby. don't pout at me, it just makes me miss you even more. i had a photoshoot right after the salon and couldn't really text," kate explains. the pout on your lips disappears with you back to missing her.

"it looks so good on you, babes. makes me wanna kiss you"

"then gimme a kiss. the screen doesn't matter to me," kate puckers her lips up. leaning back close to the screen as you do the same.

you two stay up until twelve. during the rest of the call you keep taking facetime photos of kate because for one, she was just so adorable and for two, her new hair was doing things for you. the highlights really brought out her eyes. you were definitely going to kiss her all over her face when she landed back in iowa.

you tell kate to go off to sleep when the clock strikes one, so she can be well rested for her flight back home tomorrow. she pouts until you agree to fall asleep on the phone; who would say no to that face?

#kate martin x reader #kate martin #wbb x reader

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buckys-wintersoldier · 3 months

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Would you lie with me? | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Female!Reader

Summary -> After a mission Bucky comes into your room to see you watching the raindrops at the window. The two of you decide to go out to enjoy the warm summer rain there.

Wordcount -> 2.1k

Warnings -> (G) none, just fluff

A/N -> The Oneshot is dedicated and a surprise for @imtryingbuck. I hope you like it and I just want to tell you I LOVE YOU, BESTIE. Thank you for always being there when I need you and being so supportive. It really means a lot and I appreciate you so much.❤️❤️ Divider made by @firefly-graphics , aesthetics: @sergeantbarnessdoll

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

The rain slowly makes its way down the window. It's been raining all day, but you like to just sit there and look at the raindrops falling down. The quiet sound of them hitting the floor makes you smile, and you enjoy the moment of the rain and the sound of it.

When someone knocks at your door, you turn away from your window, the blanket still tight around your body, while you shout a soft “yes?” in the direction of the door. The one outside the room opens the door, and you’re greeted by the big and lovely smile of your best friend, James Buchanan Barnes.

“Bucky,” you say happily.

His smile grows when he hears the excitement in your voice. Bucky's already beautiful blue eyes brighten even more when he closes the door and walks towards you until he reaches your bed and lets himself fall down on the edge of it. Now he is just a few inches away from you.

“Hey, doll. I thought I wanted to look after my best girl when I'm home from the mission, and here I am,” he says, his hand reaching to place it on your thigh.

You giggle softly about his words. Bucky always calls you ‘doll’ or ‘his best girl’ and he only calls you like that. When you first met him, you immediately knew he was your best friend. They told you Bucky isn’t really the one who talks much, but when you two are alone, he is the most talkative person you know. His laugh is the most beautiful you have ever heard, and the way he looks at you whenever you tell him about something makes your knees weak.

“How was your mission?”

“It was good, but I prefer being back at the compound because it means I can spend as much time with you as we want.”

You blush, your hand making its way from under your blanket to place it on his, and you stroke your thumb over his strong arm. Your eyes are piercing in his, and you are slowly getting lost. Everything feels so easy; there are no problems around you right now. You feel so much stronger when you just look into his eyes. Every fear and every negative thought is so far away that you feel like he is building walls around you to make sure they will never bother you.

After a moment, you’re just going to get lost in the depths of his eyes. You start to sing your favorite song, not really recognizing that you do. But it’s the song you and Bucky have decided to be “your song,” and whenever you’re around him, you have that song stuck in your mind, and like that, you just start singing it. Bucky’s grin grows when he hears the melody and words of the lyrics.

“We’ll do it all. Everything. On our own.”

When you sang the line the first time, Bucky made sure to tell you in every way possible that you’re never alone because he will be by your side whenever you need him. He found the most meaningful words someone could find to underline how much he means what he says. He never wanted to be so close to someone before; you’re the one he wants to be with whenever he can. With you around him, he feels like he is needed and loved by someone who understands him without words. And then one is you, his doll.

“We don’t need. Anything. Or Anyone.”

The two of you need just one another. There is nothing that makes you uncomfortable around him; you both can laugh together; he will comfort you whenever you need comfort; and he knows you do the same for him. Whenever he has a nightmare, he knows he can come into your room - when he isn’t already sleeping there - and talk to you. You would stay up all night for him, as long as he felt safe and comfortable. And he does the same, or whenever you get your period, he makes sure to have all you want to eat there, laying in bed with you, watching your favorite movies, and comforting you whenever your mood changes.

“If I lay here. If I just lay here. Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

You could sit there, lay there with Bucky underneath, or have him next to you. His arms are tight around you while you feel the warmth of his body. The way he kisses your forehead whenever you look up at him and the smile on his lips are so soft that you would like to feel and see this all the time. He looks at you almost the whole time when the two of you watch a movie. Bucky just can’t get his eyes off you, especially when you smile or laugh about something. He would love to just capture your cheeks and press his lips on yours, making you his even when you’re already his doll.

“I don’t quite know. How to say. Or how to feel.”

The thought of you being with someone who isn’t Bucky makes him almost throw up. He wants to be the only one who is the reason for your big smile, your brightening eyes, and your beautiful laugh. Bucky would like to be the one who kisses you, holds you close, and cuddles you until you fall asleep. He would like to be the one who kisses your face to wake you up in the most beautiful way you can imagine. Little did he know that you feel the same way he feels for you, but he doesn’t want things to be awkward between the two of you.

“Those three words. Are said too much. They are not enough.”

Bucky is scared of telling you those special three words in the way he wants to tell you. You often tell each other that you love the other one, but he would love to tell you that he loves you. Like you’re the one and only for him; you belong to him, and he can show everything how gorgeous and beautiful his girlfriend is. Like he can tell everyone that you’re going to become his wife and that you carry the kids of the two of you in your pretty belly.

“Forget what we're told. Before we get too old. Show me a garden that’s bursting into life.”

The words are burning on his tongue, and whenever he is around you, Bucky feels like he just tells you all about the way he feels for you. The way he is so in love with you that he feels like he can’t think straight, everything in his mind is you. Whenever you touch him, he has a feeling of butterflies going wild in his stomach, and the spot where your skin is touching his, even when it’s just through the fabric of your clothes, feels like it’s all tingling, and he loves the feeling because he only has it when he is around the person he loves.

“Doll?” Bucky asks softly.

You blink and recognize that you are singing, stopping before you give him your full attention.

“Mhm?”

“Do you trust me?”

“You know I do. I trust you, Bucky,” you say, capturing his cheeks, and the two of you get lost in the moment for a second.

The urge to just lean forward and kiss one another is growing with every second you’re so close. But neither you nor Bucky break the distance between your lips, so scared the other could think it’s awkward. He clears his throat and smiles then.

“Let’s go outside.”

Your smile grows when you understand his plan. You slide the blanket down your body and let him take your hand to lead you through your room and then through the corridors of the building.

When he opens the door and the two of you walk outside, you feel the warm rain soaking your clothes immediately. With Bucky’s hand still in yours, you walk a few steps further away from the building. You tilt your head and close your eyes, letting the rain fall on your face and slowly sliding along your skin. Bucky stands next to you, his smile on his face from one side to the other, while his eyes are focused on you and the raindrops on your soft skin.

“Let’s waste time. Chasing cars. Around our heads,” Bucky sings, making you look at him and see his beautiful face.

His hands find your hips, and he pulls you closer. You wrap your arms around his neck. Bucky holds you tight against him, and when you place your head against his muscular chest, you inhale your favorite smell. Your best friend, the one you love so much. Bucky is the one who is definitely more than just a best friend for you, and he feels and thinks the same way about you.

“I need your grace. To remind me. To find my own.”

Your voices fit perfectly together, and the melody matches like the two of you do. It’s just the two of you, singing in the rain, standing as close as possible while you’re just around each other. With your song, with your love, you and him. With him, you’re feeling completely like every missing piece has found its way and its place, and now you’re complete with him by your side.

When you slowly pull away, Bucky looks at you, opens his eyes, and frowns softly.

“What’s going on in your beautiful mind, doll?”

You could melt when he calls you that. It’s a nickname, like every nickname, right? As much as you tried to tell yourself that it’s still special for you when he calls you by the nickname. When he calls you his best girl, his doll. Like you belong to him, like you’re his and he is yours.

You just smile and sit down on the ground, pulling him with you. When he sits next to you, he groans playfully because of his wet ass, but it causes you both just to laugh before you let yourself softly fall backwards until you lay, and he does the same. Bucky lays next to you, his hand looking for yours, while your feet and shoulders are touching each other. The grin on your face probably competes with the Cheshire Cat, but that doesn't matter. Because no one except Bucky - who is the reason for you being happy like that - can see you right now.

“All that I am. All that I ever was. Is here in your perfect eyes, they’re all I can see.”

Bucky turns his head around, facing you the moment you turn your head towards him as well. He suddenly looks so shy that you want to kiss his pretty, soft lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He chuckles about your cuteness.

“No, doll. I love you.”

“Yes, Bucky. I love you too.”

Now it’s on you to giggle when his expression changes between shy and confused, and then your favorite smile appears on his lips. He gets it; he gets that you love him. Not like a friend, not like your best friend. No, you love him the same way he loves you. Like you belong together, and the things he just dreamed about have yet to come true. You love him. His plans he made whenever you were together can become reality at some point, and he finally doesn’t have to hide his feelings for you anymore.

“I don’t know where. Confused about how as well. Just know that these things will never change for us at all.”

Even when you sing the line, you know that you’re definitely not confused about anything right now. With Bucky's hand in yours and his body so close to yours, you can feel his warmth. Just the two of you in the warm summer rain, laying on the floor, knowing you belong to one another now and that the love you tried to keep a secret is shared between you and Bucky now.

“If I lay here.”

“If I just lay here.”

“Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

“Of course, my precious doll,” Bucky says, pushing himself up and leaning closer to capture your lips for a soft but passionate kiss. Your hands are still holding one another’s hand while he grabs your waist to hold himself above you and be as close as possible while you share the sweetest first kiss with your love.

Taglist: @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @nicoline1998enilocin @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @harleycao @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry

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libraryofgage · 6 months

Text

Addams Family B-Side (2)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one)

Hello, and welcome back to Addams Family B-Side, where I take my Addams Family Steddie idea and flip the cassette tape

This is part of a larger series in which I give Steve Harrington good parents from different shows/movies/etc. If there are any other people you think would make good parents for Steve, let me know! I'll take them into consideration and see if inspiration sparks :D

Also, there's a meme at the end, so enjoy that hfjks

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't :^)

---------

Just because Steve finds Eddie Munson fascinating, that doesn't mean he's going to immediately move to wooing the guy. Well. He would, but his mother has some reasonable yet strict rules about these things, the first of all being that Steve can't like someone just for a pretty face. Or sizable personal wealth. He's got to talk to the person to figure out if they can stand each other before commencing the romancing.

Steve doesn't see himself getting a chance to talk to Eddie anytime soon, so he morosely (and it's not even fun this time) puts his fascination on the back burner for the rest of the day.

Then school ends, and Pubert has some after-school commitment, so Steve waits for him in the grossest bathroom he can find on campus. It's near the fine arts hall, has a flickering light above the mirror, and sports mold in one corner that Steve is tempted to harvest for Grandmama. He bets it'd make a great ingredient for something.

He's just about to scrape some of the mold away when the door slams open. Steve looks up in time to see Eddie (his eyes wide and somewhat terrified, and Steve is briefly angry and consumed by the thought that he's the only one who should be making Eddie scared like that) slip across the tile and crash into the wall on the far side of the bathroom.

Steve is momentarily stunned by Eddie's appearance, his heart lurching in his chest and the sudden urge to hide behind something rearing its head. In the back of his mind, he remembers his father describing the first time he saw Debbie; how he clammed up and was so in awe of her that he couldn't say a thing. Steve finally gets it. If he tried to speak right now, he'd probably only mumble or mutter something unintelligible.

Steve is about to try anyway when the door slams open again and three other boys walk in. They're wearing letterman jackets, and Steve recognizes one of them from lunch. He wasn't the boy who called Eddie a prick, but he was sitting at that table and looking particularly annoyed. Now, he just looks taken aback by Steve's presence, and the feeling is mutual.

"You're that new kid, right?" he asks, his lips pulled back in a sneer as he looks Steve up and down. "Get out."

"I was here first," Steve says, frowning slightly as he glances from the boys to Eddie. "What are you doing?"

"We're teaching this dipshit a lesson for disrespecting us," the guy says, cracking his knuckles and narrowing his eyes at Steve. "So, unless you want your ass kicked, too, get out."

Oh. This is bullying. Steve blinks, a sudden glee building in his chest. He glances at Eddie. "Were you planning to fight back?" he asks, figuring he won't take that fun away.

Eddie stares at him like he's clinically insane, and Steve is a little flattered. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Eddie asks, throwing a hand out and gesturing at the guys. "They're brick shithouses."

Steve hums softly and nods, swinging his backpack off his shoulders and opening the main pocket. As he's rummaging around, he hears the ringleader of the jocks (that's what they'd be called in a movie, he thinks) scoff at him. "Are you fucking dumb? Or are you that eager for a ride in an ambulance?" he asks.

Finally, Steve finds what he's looking for and smiles. "Oh. No. I just had to get a weapon," he says, pulling his travel mace out of his bag. He presses a button and spikes release from the ball on the end. Steve looks up at the jocks with an eager smile. "Who first?"

"What the fuck is that?!"

Steve blinks, a little worried about the public education system. "It's a weapon. A mace, to be exact. There's three of you. This evens the odds," he explains.

The three take a step back, looking at Steve like he's clinically insane, and this time he's disgusted by the gesture. "You're fucking crazy," the first one says before turning heel and leaving the bathroom. The other two follow closely behind, and Steve has to stifle the sheer disappointment.

He sighs and retracts the spikes, placing the mace back into his bag. "Are you disappointed you didn't get to fight?" Eddie asks, pulling Steve's attention back.

Eddie is noticeably more relaxed now, and he's looking at Steve like he's an enigma. That's not quite as good as clinically insane, but it's still flattering nonetheless. Steve swallows down the nerves that suddenly appear again, trying to channel his mother's calm confidence instead. "A little," he admits, zipping up his bag before slinging it back onto his shoulders. "I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington."

"Oh, uh, Eddie Munson."

"I know. I saw you at lunch."

Eddie perks up a little, a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah? And what did you think, Harrington?" he asks.

Steve stares at him for a moment before taking a step forward, the faint scent of weed and cheap body spray making its way to him. He makes a quick mental note to look into colognes for one that would fit Eddie best (perhaps something crisp and harsh like a wild blizzard with inescapable winds). "I think," Steve says, holding Eddie's gaze, "that you've got incredible conviction."

"Uh, thanks?"

"You're welcome," Steve says, studying Eddie a moment longer. "Let me know if they bother you again. I can pull out a bomb next time."

Before Eddie can respond, the door swings open for a third time. Steve looks over his shoulder and pulls back when he sees Pubert. "Ready to go?" Pubert asks, glancing between the two. "Or am I interrupting something?"

"Not interrupting. And yeah, ready to go."

"Wait, how do you know Pubert Addams?" Eddie asks, looking between the two with a frown. The emotion in his eyes is recognizable if only because Steve has seen it in his mother's eyes when someone beats her to a sale or happens to be wearing a nicer necklace. Jealousy, plain and simple.

Steve grins at Eddie, ready to soothe his jealousy when Pubert cuts in. "Save it," he says, grabbing Steve's hand, "we're gonna be late." With that, he pulls Steve out of the bathroom and down the hall.

"What was that for?" Steve asks.

"I've got to get my entertainment somehow," Pubert replies, smirking as he drops Steve's hand. "Watching someone be jealous will do for a while."

-----

When Steve gets home, leaving Pubert on the sidewalk without another glance because he's too excited to get inside and tell his mother about the crush that he's talked to, he finds only his father in the kitchen. Without needing to be asked, Fester says, "Debbie and Morticia went to get their nails done. It was an emergency. Apparently, Debbie couldn't tear open letters as easily anymore."

Steve nods once and drops his bag onto the island. "I'm in love," he announces.

His father freezes, a tray of roasted vegetables in his hands. A few moments pass before Fester fully processes Steve's words, and he asks, "Have you talked to them? You know your mother's rule."

"I have," Steve says, unable to help a grin, "and he's perfect."

Fester drops the tray onto the stovetop, and Steve suddenly finds himself lifted into the air and spun around. "In love! Oh, I hope it's miserable for you," Fester says.

Steve laughs, nearly tripping over his feet when Fester sets him down. "I haven't decided how to approach him yet," he admits, grabbing onto the counter for support.

"Tell me about him," Fester says, grabbing Steve's shoulders and staring intensely at him. It's like he thinks he'll be able to read Steve's mind if he refrains from blinking long enough.

Steve pushes his father into one of the chairs at the kitchen's island. "His name is Eddie Munson. He's got this wild look to him. Like, his hair is all wavy and kinda poofy like he got half-electrocuted. And his eyes are the most beautiful swamp-mud brown I've ever seen. He speaks with conviction and has a shirt with a demon head on it and has all these rings and spikes on his vest. And he looks incredible when he's terrified. I mean, if I hadn't been so angry, I would've proposed right there," Steve gushes, the words falling from him in a breathless rush.

"What made you angry?" Fester asks, quickly latching to the last point.

"These...jocks. That's what they're called. Jocks. They were chasing him for stuff he said at lunch. He made this whole speech at lunch, by the way. It was incredible. Way too short and just barely addressing the actual issues and he'd never win a single political campaign. Anyway, these jocks, they chased him into the bathroom where I was, and they had him outnumbered and were muscular, so he was scared of getting beat up, I think. They threatened to beat me up, too, which I was excited about, but they ran away when I pulled out my travel mace. I mean, how rude is that? It's just bad form to run when someone's pulled out a weapon."

"And he wasn't angry about you taking his chance to fight?" Fester asks.

"Not at all! He seemed relieved. I think he might be better with, you know, poisons or something," Steve explains, shrugging slightly. He knows everyone has their specialties; he's a master of physical brawls and fights, Pubert does best with explosives, his mother just has a way with words and manipulation, and his father can give people the creeps just by looking at them.

Fester nods, an eager grin taking over his face. "You've got to start wooing him!" he says, slapping his hand on the island counter and pushing himself out of his seat. "Start small, something to test the waters."

"Oh! I could get him a rat," Steve says, thinking of the ones that like to burrow around in their yard. They're big and fearless, and Steve used them to practice his prowling and hunting when he was young. He's got many fond memories of crouching and pouncing right before they scattered across the yard.

"Wait," Fester says, holding up a hand and thinking for a moment, "we should think like your mother. She's the most romantic person we know."

"She blew you up," Steve agrees, nodding seriously. "She'd probably say that I shouldn't give him a live rat. Because he's, uh, not like us?" Steve looks at Fester, waiting for his father to nod once in approval before continuing, "I think Mom talked about stuffed animals once. So, maybe I can get him a stuffed rat, instead."

"Yes! Good! And then you should...learn about his interests! What does he like?" Fester asks.

"I'll have to watch him to find out. I can probably make him something once I know. I mean, he's probably got normal interests, like bugs and poisons and torture practices, right? That's what most people like."

"Don't forget dancing or music."

"Right," Steve says, "dancing or music. But he'll probably have special interests, too. Like Satanism. I should watch for those."

With something akin to a plan in place, Steve leaves Fester to sneakily poison the roasted vegetables while he plans the first step of wooing Eddie.

-----

Ever since meeting Steve Harrington in the bathroom, Eddie has been feeling eyes on him. Not even the normal kind that are annoyed or just curious about the school's resident freak. No, these eyes are...intense. They're laser-focused on his every move and clearly filled with some kind of intentions that he can't discern.

He just doesn't know where they're coming from. When he looks around to see who's staring, he can't find anyone. It's been driving him crazy for almost a week now, and Eddie is just about ready to scream when he opens his locker and...

And finds a rat.

Like, a real rat.

Well, it's dead, but it was alive once. Eddie blinks, staring at the taxidermied rat innocently sitting on top of the pile of books and papers and folders stacked in his locker. It's big and has a surprisingly shiny brown coat, kind of like someone had given the thing a thorough wash with extra shampoo and conditioner. There's a blood-red ribbon wrapped around the rat's neck, a perfect bow tied behind its head, with a tag hanging from it. When Eddie hesitantly turns the tag over, he finds "Name: Kas" at the top and "Hope you like him" written on the bottom in careful, meticulous handwriting.

It should be creepy. It should be disturbing. Eddie should be paranoid beyond reason because how did the mystery gifter even know his locker combination? Did they stuff this rat themselves? Did they kill the rat themselves? Why the fuck would they give him a rat?

But...it's oddly...sweet? Somehow, Eddie can feel that it's not, like, a malicious gift. And he likes the rat. Kas. He likes Kas. Its fur is surprisingly soft when he picks it up, and Eddie spends a good minute just rubbing his thumb over its back.

Then he feels those eyes on him again. They're even more intense this time, like they're watching him closely to see his reaction and...oh. Is this...a weird secret admirer? Does Eddie "The Freak" Munson have a secret admirer? A weird one, sure, because who the fuck gifts taxidermied rats, but still.

He looks around, taking in the other students in the semi-crowded hallway, trying to find those eyes. He doesn't find anyone staring at him, but he does end up staring himself at Steve Harrington. The guy is leaning on a locker across the hall, inexplicably fiddling with a lightbulb as he talks to Pubert Addams, who's digging around in his own locker. If Eddie squints, he could almost convince himself that Steve's cheeks are a little pinker than normal.

After a few seconds, Steve glances up and meets his gaze. They stare at each other for a few tense moments, something building in Eddie's chest as the weight of Steve's eyes surrounds him. It doesn't feel bad, but he's not used to being the center of someone's attention like this. Normally, people are frowning when they pay attention to him. Or, if they're his friends, goading him on and joining in the joke. But this is different, like Steve finds him fascinating.

And then Pubert Addams slams his locker door shut and looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowing when he sees Eddie staring at Steve. He frowns, throws an arm over Steve's shoulders, and pulls him away. Pubert's shoulders are a little tense, his expression sour as he says something to Steve that results in one last, furtive glance at Eddie before he's out of sight.

Suddenly, nothing is more important to Eddie than figuring out what the fuck is going on between Steve Harrington and Pubert Addams.

------

Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@estrellami-1, @itsall-taken, @mugloversonly, @fandomcartographer, @hippielittlemetalhead, @agree2disagre-kicks, @ledleaf, @just-a-tiny-void, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @ink1177, @maya-custodios-dionach, @littlebluejane,

And now, a meme for your viewing pleasure:

#steddie #steddie fic #addams family b-side #addams! steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #pubert addams #fester addams #steve deserves good parents actually #my writing

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moonsgemini · 11 months

Text

good for you - rafe cameron

summary: Rafe just wanted to be good. He wanted to be good for her, but somehow he always found a way to mess things up. And of course she’s there to help him clean up the mess.

warnings: angst, fluff, rafe gets arrested, insecurities from rafe

wc: 1.9k

an: hope you all enjoy!! I kinda lost inspo towards the end but regardless I still kinda like it. um also I’m 5 days sober so love that for me, I’m taking a tolerance break to clear my mind & it's helped so much so far.

masterlist

She was laying on her bed reading Pride & Prejudice, trying to stay away from her phone. She was trying to build better habits like not going on her phone before she went to sleep. It was a cool summer night, her balcony doors open letting the smell of the beach enter her room. Her eyes were starting to involuntarily shut as sleep started to overtake her, but she was jolted awake as her phone started vibrating on her night stand.

It was almost 12am who would be calling her at this hour. She peeked over and the name on the screen made a pit in her stomach form. Kildare Sheriff’s Department. She didn’t have a single clue as to why she was getting a call from the police at this hour. Her stomach turned as her mind raced jumping to conclusions like someone she knew being in an accident.

Hesitantly picking up she muttered, “Hello?”

“Hey uh it’s me.”

Her mouth went dry, “Rafe? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Y/n had only moved to outer banks a few months ago. She had met Sarah one day when she was shopping at a boutique in the figure eight. Being the bubbly outgoing person that Sarah was she invited her to a party going on that night. Usually y/n wouldn’t go to a random party alone but it was summer and how else was she going to make friends. She had promised herself that in the Outer Banks she was going to be different. She wasn’t going to bury herself in her books and be secluded missing out on all the things a teenager should be doing like she had been in her old hometown.

When she arrived at the party she was received with weird looks and she had immediately regretted her decision. She wandered around hoping someone would come up and talk to her or she’d bump into Sarah. Luckily she did bump into her, the girl immediately took her under her wing and introduced her to some people. Y/n even had a few drinks as she talked with the girls she met. She was actually enjoying herself. After a while she went off to find the bathroom, that’s when she bumped into a 6’2 dirty blonde.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” She mumbled stumbling back a bit, her balance a little off after a few seltzers.

Rafe looked down at the girl not recognizing her as a regular at these parties, “No worries.” He smirked, he definitely would have remembered her.

She looked around not really knowing where she was going, “um do you know where the bathroom is?”

Rafe thought she was extremely cute. She was like a lost puppy and he would do anything to help her find her way, “It’s the last door on the right, have we met before?” He asked knowing they definitely haven’t.

“Probably not, I just moved here a couple weeks ago. I’m y/n.” She smiled as she felt her face heating up. She thought he was extremely handsome, he had a slightly cocky demeanor but she couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t into it. The way he looked at her like she was his prey made her feel something warm in her stomach. In her old town no boy had bothered to give her the time of day so having the attention of someone as handsome as him was overwhelming.

Rafe’s smirk grew, “That makes sense I think I’d remember if we met, I’m Rafe.”

He knew he was a goner when she looked up at him with those big eyes and that smile. Everything about her was captivating to him. He liked looking at her smooth exposed legs in the small skirt she was wearing and her collarbones that were begging to be kissed by him. He also liked the fact that she didn’t know who he was. She had no idea he was a bad person the way everyone said he was.

Ever since that night Rafe and y/n had been practically inseparable. They spent their days together whether it was at the beach while she read her books on the sand in that small bikini while Rafe surfed. Or they’d go to parties together, Rafe’s arm around her the whole night. Not letting her out of his sight and making sure everyone knew she was Rafe’s girl even though they weren’t dating. Rafe hadn’t asked her out yet, he wanted to be better before he made anything official.

Rafe had become better. He wasn’t doing coke anymore and he stopped drinking so much, limiting himself so only a few drinks. He even started doing everything his dad asked him to instead of doing whatever was in his best interest. But Rafe was nowhere near perfect. It’s why he was calling her from the sheriff’s department at midnight. He felt like he had just fucked up all the effort he had made to be better with one stupid night.

He had gone out to a bar with a few friends and he had maybe had a bit too much to drink. Maybe he had a lot to drink and he might of started a fight with some guys. Which resulted in him being taken to the police station to sit in the drunk tank or be picked up by someone. He had one phone call and he couldn’t call his dad, he’d just yell at him and let him stay there over night. His friends weren’t the most reliable people and Sarah wasn’t exactly going to jump at the opportunity to help him. He only knew one person who would help him, but he felt embarrassed by his actions. This isn’t the Rafe he wanted her to know, but he was desperate.

“I’m o-okay. Can you come pick me up?” He hiccuped, “I fucked up y/n. Please can you come.”

She was already steps ahead of him. She had began putting on an oversized sweatshirt and her sneakers. Rafe meant a lot to her, he was one of the only people that actually listened to her. He saw her in ways that no one ever tried to. She would do anything for him. She had heard a few rumors about him but she didn’t pay any attention to them because it seemed like that Rafe was gone. Her Rafe was gentle, kind, smart, and protective.

“Of course Rafe. I’ll be there soon okay?” She said hoping to calm him, she could hear him sniffle lightly.

“I’m so sorry y/n,” He said in an almost whimper.

She shook her head even though he couldn’t see her, “There’s nothing you need to apologize for. I’ll be there soon okay?”

“Okay. Thankyou y/n.”

“Anything for you Rafey.” She smiled just thinking about him. His heart clenched at the nick name, how could she be so perfect. How could she not be angry with him for being so stupid.

When she arrived at the police station she went up to the front desk and nervously looked around. Waiting for someone to come up and help her.

“Hi, what can I do for you?” Shoupe asked as he appeared from around the corner.

“Hi um I’m here to pick up Rafe Cameron,” She said almost uncertain.

He nodded his head, “I’ll go get him, if you can just fill out these papers for me.”

“Mhmm thankyou,” she smiled sweetly.

Shoupe walked back around the corner and down the hall to the holding cell. Rafe sat there his head in his hands.

“Cameron, let’s god.” He started unlocking the door to let the young man out.

Rafe stood up quickly, because she actually came. A part of him worried that you wouldn’t show up. She’d see what a mess he was calling her at midnight and just leave him there. He couldn’t wait to see his girl. Shoupe walked him out to the front and there she stood in his sweatshirt and some sleep shorts. He felt a pang of guilt go through him knowing he disturbed her.

“Rafe,” She said letting out a relieved sigh. He had a cut lip and bruised cheek. His knuckles were cut up and bruised.

He practically ran towards her to hug her. He burried his head in the crook of her neck, taking in the scent of vanilla and shea butter. All of his worries disappeared as he held her.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled wishing he could just stay this way forever.

“It’s okay, let’s go home.” She pulled away from him holding his face in her hands to examine him better. Her eyes watered slightly as she took in his hurt perfect face.

They walked to her car in silence, she had a million questions but she waited to ask. Once in her car she looked over at him. He looked so broken, so upset at himself.

“What happened Rafe?” She asked.

He looked over at him with watery eyes, “I-I don’t know. One minute I’m having a drink and then another. Then another and another. Then this guy shoulder checked me on his way to the restroom and I-I just lost it. I don’t know why.” He shook his head thinking about how stupid his reason for starting the fight was.

“Rafe, people make mistakes.”

“I’ve made so many mistakes. I just want to be good. I want to be good enough for you, but I’m so stupid, I’m a loser and an idiot. I-I don’t deserve you.”

She leaned across the console and held his face in her hands rubbing her thumbs gently across his cheek bones, “Don’t say that. Rafe I would come get you from here every day if you needed me to. You can’t be so hard on yourself, it matters to me that you’re trying to be good. You are good. I’ve never once thought that you weren’t.” She cared for him more than he would ever know.

He couldn’t find any words to say because none existed that would describe how much love he had for her. No one believed in him the way that she did. He reached over mimicking her and placing his hands on her cheeks pulling her into him. His lips meeting hers, his lip hurt as he kissed her. Her hands dropped from his face and moved to his shirt, desperate hands gripping at it trying to pull him closer.

Rafe hummed in satisfaction at the feeling of her mouth on his, something he had been dreaming about for months now. The way their lips moved against each other seemed like they had been doing this forever. She let out a small whimper and it made his head spin. His hand ran down her face to hold the side of her neck, finger entangling in her hair. His other hand moved to her waist. He really wished they were in his bed right now so he could really show her how much she means to him. But he wanted to take things slow with her.

They pulled away, foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath. She felt so dizzy, all her senses were overloaded on Rafe Cameron.

“Did you know that you’re perfect?” He said quietly.

She laughed softly, “You’re perfect. Come stay with me tonight.

“Anything you want,” He pecked her lips. For the first time in his whole life he didn’t feel less than.

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