#i have to keep in mind that i’m planning to run away for two years at the beginning of 2026 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohbother2 · 2 months

Note

hi i’m helluvapoison!! (also a side blog, so APPARENTLY i can’t send asks with it? rude, tumblr) anyways i wanted to say you’re amazing, phenominal, show stopping. i love your writing so. much.

i humbly request a nsfw lucifer/ reader (however you feel like formatting it) where he tries to cancel date night because reader looks too good, he’s gotta have em then and there. reader takes this and runs, spends the evening riling him up and maybe making him beg for it, if you could? i love sub luci but wanna give you creative freedome as much as possible

ok ok i hope you have a fantastic day buh bye and keep being amazing!

You're making me blush srsly

Also I absolutely loved this idea and couldn't help but immediately start planning a fic around it - I absolutely love how your mind works

This is kinda long, and is part 1 of 2 (sorry), but I personally much prefer the build up and think it needs enough time to really get going (wink wink) to make the pay off worth it

*ahem* not quite smut? It's toeing the line tbh - Minors DNI

Lucifer x f!reader - He Wants to Cancel Date Night

---

It wasn't a particularly significant day that Lucifer had chosen to designate your upcoming date, he had simply picked a random free day in his calendar, asked you if you were free, and then giddily instructed you to doll yourself up nice and be ready for 7pm to go out for dinner. He hadn't told you where you would be heading, but when Lucifer did decide to take you somewhere purposeful for a date, and not just take you for a leisurely stroll and a candle-lit picnic, he always went full-out, so you knew to dress to impress.

It had been a while since your last date night, the two of you often prioritising your time together and trying to organise something at least every two weeks. Due to both of your busy-ness with reconstructing Charlie's new hotel project after the last extermination, and the exhaustion that settled into your bones and muscles after a long day of construction, it had been a month since your last 'official' date.

Yourself and Lucifer had been dating for several years by now, but the early-stage giddiness remained, and you still loved impressing him when you dolled yourself up, and you honestly lived for his reactions when you wore something particularly nice. It had been a while since you had both indulged yourselves as a couple, and tonight, you wholly planned on blowing him away with what you decided to wear, and hopefully a lot more.

You had missed him a lot. Unbeknownst to you, he had missed you much more, and he himself had spent an embarrassing amount of time getting ready for tonight.

You currently sat at your vanity table, makeup and hair products strewn about its entire surface as you fixed up the finishing touches of your makeup in the large illuminated mirror attached to the desk. Your hair had been styled in an elegant updo, with curled strands of hair framing your face and caressing your rosy cheeks, not a strand out of place after the many hours you had spent perfecting the look. Your whole outfit had been coordinated purposefully, with the intention of wearing a ruby and gold jewellery set Lucifer had gifted you on your first anniversary, a favourite of yours, and a set which never failed to grab his attention. The elegant ruby pendant sat snug against your chest nestled amongst a gold chain, with a pair of ruby and gold earrings dangling from your ears to match. You adorned an equally vibrant ruby dress which cinched tightly at your waist and hugged your bust enticingly, clinging to your hips tightly and its hem digging lightly into your upper thigh. You pucker your rouge lips in the mirror, ensuring an even application as your bright eyes focussed intently, framed with smoky eyeliner and shimmering gold.

You stare at yourself contemplatively, scrutinising your appearance and tugging at a strap of your dress. You had no reason to be nervous, you were already dating the King of Hell, and he took every opportunity to show his devotion to you, but butterflies still swarmed in your stomach as you readied for the date, desperately wanting to impress him. In your eyes, Lucifer was a devastatingly handsome man, with the beauty of an angel despite his fallen status, able to sweep you off your feet with a disarming smile and his silky-smooth voice. He was an amazingly attentive and caring partner, and you could never ask for someone as understanding or perceptive, and god he really did still have the same effect on you, the butterflies only swarming more in your stomach as you thought about the blond man.

Speak of the devil: you jump lightly when you hear a gentle knock at your front door, and you give yourself one final glance in the mirror, a hand carding through a lock of loose hair before you respond.

"One second, Luci!" You call, prepared for him arriving a few minutes early, as he always did, standing from your seat and grabbing a small clutch-purse and a pair of gold heels from beside your bed as you hurry out into the hallway.

You place the items in your hands thoughtlessly on the staircase in the hallway, pausing before the door to straighten your dress, tugging the hem further down your thigh minimally and taking a deep breath before your hand lands on the doorknob. You swing the door open with a little too much enthusiasm, but the staggering smile that greets you has your worries subsiding as Lucifer beams at you, both of his hands rested atop his cane as he waits expectantly.

He had dressed himself incredibly well, a white suit with a burgundy shirt and pin-stripe burgundy waistcoat cinching at his unfairly trim waist, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean physique. He had abandoned his hat for the evening, and you feel your breath leave you at the way he had styled his blond locks away from his face, not a strand out of place and curling around his ears as he smiles oh-so-innocently, the apples of his cheeks rosy and pronounced with the way his grin stretched across his face.

Within his own mind, Lucifer was having an internal battle as his thoughts devolved to a jumbled and rather sinful mess at the sight that greeted him, your bright smile and rouge lips having his heart stammering in his chest as his fists enclose around his cane. You looked positively other-worldly, and the many compliments and greetings he had at the tip of his tongue die in his throat as his gaze flits up and down your body, not all that subtly. The dress left little to the imagination, and his gaze follows the long curve of your legs hotly, the shimmering stockings you wore seemingly accentuating your height. His gaze finally lands on the pendant nestled between your breasts, and a primal heat gathers in the hollow of his stomach when he immediately recognises it as the one he had bought you all those years ago. God, he loved when you wore his gifts, and he's even more ecstatic to see the matching earrings as his red gaze finally returns back to your face, a vision of beauty greeting him, looking far too happy to be in his presence as you smile lovingly.

"Angel, you look positively stunning." He immediately compliments you, bending at the waist and taking a hold of one of your hands in his gentle grasp, pressing a long, purposeful kiss against your knuckles, refusing to breaking eye-contact the entire time. You smile down at him, closing the door behind him as you comment.

"I love your new suit, it's unfair how handsome you are." He practically preens at the compliment, grinning at you as he leans against his cane, trying to make himself look as big and enticing as possible.

"I just need to grab some last minute things, if you wait in the living room I won't be long."

Ah yes, the date, he had nearly forgotten about that. You really did reduce him to a useless, thoughtless, mess. He hums as you walk past, eyes shamefully travelling down your torso as you walk away, not leaving your figure as you bend down to grab your heels and clutch from the staircase. Your dress really did leave little to the imagination, not that he had to imagine. He pulls his gaze away before you turn back around towards him, and he purposefully strides into your living room, pretending that he definitely was not just checking you out shamelessly, and that his throat definitely wasn't growing tighter and dryer with every second.

It had been so long since you both had been able to spend some much needed quality time together, usually spending your days around the habitants of the hotel as you worked, and then just returning home and collapsing into respective heaps after the many hours of labouring away to make Charlie's dream come true. He really was looking forward to this date, and he had been beyond ecstatic to be able to spend so many hours with you, and only you, after so long, but now that the time had finally arrived, he truthfully didn't want to leave these four walls.

Truthfully? He wanted to absolutely ruin the makeup and hairdo you had doubtlessly spent hours on, and he wanted to be out of his brand new suit as quickly as his hands would allow. He tries not to stare too openly when you enter the room, breathing in deeply at the strong smell of your newly sprayed perfume, watching with slitted eyes as you fuss around in a drawer, looking for something he didn't think you needed. He already knew it as soon as you had opened the door and knocked him back on his ass with that dazzling smile; he did not want to go on this date, he wanted you, and hopefully, you felt the same.

"I've missed you so much sweetheart." He practically purrs as he steps behind you, cane left leant against the back of the sofa as his hands land on either of your hips, chest pressed against your spine as he watches your reflection in the mirror hung above the side table. Your gaze flits up to meet his in the mirror, but your hands remain searching as you smile gently at him. You can see the way his eyes are heavy-lidded, his lilac-hued eyelids more visible than before as he stares into your own bright eyes intensely, and you immediately know where his mind had headed.

"I've missed you too, I'm so glad we've finally got a night to ourselves." You mutter, enjoying his warmth pressed along your back, tucking the little comb you had been searching for into your clutch. "You're not being subtle, I know that look."

"What look?" He questions coyly, and you can see his mischievous grin over your shoulder as he props his chin against you. "I'm simply in awe of your beauty." He presses a kiss against the column of your throat, and your head tilts to allow him to press another open-mouthed kiss just beneath your ear. "And can you blame me?"

"Luci," You warn, turning in his grasp. His hands follow your movements, now resting against the small of your back as he grins at you, practically nose to nose. "we have a table booked."

"I'll re-book for another night, it's me, they'll fit us in whenever." He comments, prideful as ever. One of his hands comes up between your bodies to play with the ruby pendant nestled between your breasts, a finger running along the jewel and using the chain to pull you minimally closer.

"I've spent hours getting ready." You practically whisper, you can feel his breath fan across your neck as he studied the pendant.

"And you look absolutely ravishing," He purrs, eyes matching yours once again. "so this is all your fault really." He leans in for a proper kiss, but you turn your head so that his lips land against your cheek.

"You'll get my lipstick all over you for the dinner." You were finding it increasingly hard to tell him no, especially with the way his gaze heated across your face, sultry eyes enticing you invitingly.

"I don't mind." He hums, and you feel his grip tighten against your waist. "In fact, I think I'd love to be covered in your lipstick."

"What happened to the gentleman who was at my front door not only five minutes ago?"

"I am a gentleman!" He defends, smile quickly delving into something devilishly cheeky as he comments. "I'd return the favour, put your lipstick on me, darling, and there won't be an inch of you left uncovered."

You laugh to dispel the tension in your chest at the image, and how sinfully enticing that notion was. At the same time, Lucifer begins to laugh, commenting how 'gentlemanly' that action would be.

"You, are terrible." You push him away gently, and he follows your hands with a childish frown he doesn't even bother to conceal.

"If I ask nicely enough can we stay?" He leans back against the back of the sofa, puffing out his chest in the way he knew you loved. "I'm not a Saint, I don't think I can make it through a meal with you looking like this."

"Like what?" You ask deftly, enjoying toying with him as you begin fastening your heels.

"Like I could just eat you up." You immediately know what he's insinuating, and the point is only proven more with the way he cups his chin with his hand as he watches you, fingers placed purposefully either side of his lips. Anyone else wouldn't pick up on the concealed gesture, but you know him better, and you narrow your eyes at how hard he was chipping away at your resolve.

You had half a mind to just say yes, hike your dress up and have some fun right in the middle of your living room. But no, you had been looking forward to this meal for weeks, and you rather enjoyed the idea of toying with him throughout the meal - really, if he didn't want you to tease him all afternoon, he shouldn't have come across so desperate so quickly. You'd get your revenge for all this teasing, you definitely would, and it made it even better that you knew the thought wouldn't even be crossing his mind yet.

He grins to himself as he watches you closely, an idea forming in his head. "Let me help with your heels, at least."

"No." You comment quickly, beginning to tie the second golden heel.

"Wha- why?" He questions, sounding offended.

"Because I know you, and before I know it you'll be under my dress and we won't make it to our dinner."

"I can indulge in a little starter, I bet you're much more delicious-"

"Luci, you are-" Your words cut off at the shit-eating grin he adorned, clearly enjoying riling you up. "making this incredibly difficult."

"Is it working?" He all but sings, wiggling his brows as you step towards him, now a little taller than him with your heels fastened. He was having far too much fun at your expense, and you couldn't allow that. He looks up at you with a ridiculously fond smile, which only grows when your hands smooth the lapels of his blazer.

"Maybe." You hum, and you avoid his lips once again by pressing a single long kiss underneath the crook of his jaw, your left hand cradling the back of his neck to keep him in place. He sighs out a moan, relaxing back into the sofa and hands clenching against the fabric behind him, believing that his persuasions had finally won you over.

"Really?" He asks as you pull away from his throat, still tantalisingly close. Your eyes don't linger too long, but the bright red lipstick stain has you fighting away a grin at the achievement. And to think, he was none the wiser. He sounded so hopeful, and you nearly back out of your plan. But no, you were looking forward to this meal, and you were looking forward to making him suffer for the next few hours even more.

"No, now come on, we're late."

"What?" His voice immediately loses all of its confidence, a shattered whisper as he watched you with despondent eyes. You could see the way he deflated as you pull further away from him, beginning to head towards the door. His hands were still gripping the back of your sofa, but this time to keep him propped up at the devastating news. "Darling, that's evil. We can't leave now!"

"Patience, baby." You reprimand, and he pouts playfully to hide the disappointment in his chest. "Good things come to those who wait."

"Good things could be happening right now." He tries to reason, voice low as he tries to encourage you to change your mind. He was still propped against the sofa, and you hesitated at the doorway to the hallway, looking back at him with a torn look. You had made up your mind, however, and he wouldn't win so easily.

"Are you coming? Or am I attending our date alone?"

"Fine." He groans, picking up his cane and twirling it in his hands to try and distract himself as he follows after you, pausing in front of the mirror to check his appearance. He had spent a long time on himself, after all, and next to you he needed to look every bit the charming devil. He doesn't really intend to pay too much attention to himself, but the pronounced cherry-red lipstick stain pressed under the crook of his jaw in the unmistakeable form of your lips has him nearly snapping his cane in half as soon as he spots it.

"Sweetheart!" He calls immediately, voice an octave higher than it had been a moment before. You grin to yourself as you shrug on your sheer shawl, knowing he had seen your little gift. His head pokes around the doorway, and you can see how his eyes have widened to the size of saucer-plates as he hurries towards you, knuckles of his left hand white against his cane as he reaches for you. "You can't do that and then drag me to dinner." A hand reaches for you, but you're already opening the door with a laugh. "We're staying."

His hand misses you as you step outside, and he pauses at the front entrance, glowering down at you with a tight jaw and furrowed brows. He tries one final pathetic attempt. "I feel ill."

"You're a bad liar." You laugh, holding a hand out, waiting to take his arm expectantly, and you can see how he works his jaw as he realises he really had to go to this meal. "We've got all night to ourselves, you'll survive for a few more hours."

"I don't think I will with such a pretty thing on my arm." He mutters more to himself, but you still feel heat creeping to your cheeks at the compliment. Your resolve wins over, however, and Lucifer locks your door and pockets the key before offering out his arm, beginning to lead you towards an awaiting taxi. Oh, tonight would be fun, and the best part was, Lucifer had no idea how much fun you were about to have.

---

The drive to the restaurant had gone smoothly, and Lucifer had guided you to an incredibly elegant restaurant, far outside what you would attend by yourself, nestled deep within the centre of the Pride Ring where those with wealth and status liked to play and mingle. Lucifer had practically glowed with pride when you had openly gasped in the restaurant's foyer, and had kept his hand on the small of your back the entire journey to your table; a booth directly next to the inside balcony that looked over the lower two floors of the restaurant, with a great crystal chandelier hanging parallel.

Now, you both sat at opposite sides of the table with a menu each, a bottle of some expensive-sounding wine placed in the centre of the table and your glasses filled. Lucifer was happily chatting away, meanwhile you had been storming your mind to begin enacting your revenge.

"-I don't know why he's so stubborn about it! He's literally the embodiment of lust, how embarrassing can confessing feelings be after, after doing that." Lucifer pulls a face as he sets down his menu, wafting his hands about as he continues. "It's ridiculous! And after the way he treated me when I was panicking about asking to court you! That man is the biggest hypocrite in all of Hell, and I should know."

"He's probably just embarrassed, Luci." You hum, still looking over your own menu. "Sure he's the embodiment of lust, but being sexually attracted and emotionally involved are two completely different things."

"They've been sleeping together for years by now, surely someone must have let something slip during all those times. He's told me about everything they've done, despite me not even wanting to know, and they've done some, some absolutely-" He hesitates, searching for the correct word. "'questionable' things. I mean, you can't do all that and remain," A pause. "indifferent."

"Physical attraction is a lot more removed, I think." You comment, resting your menu against the table and looking over at him. "It's a lot easier to just be interested rather than involved, you're putting your heart on the line not just your pride. Like, as an example, we slept together way before we ever said 'I love you'."

"But I-" The blond's face pinches slightly, as if remembering something embarrassing. "I knew I loved you before we even got together, so that doesn't count."

"You didn't tell me though, that's the difference." You smile softly at him, heart swelling at the little confession. His sweetness really was making you rethink your plan for the evening, but then you remembered the way he had prepositioned you to skip starters altogether in the taxi in favour of something else, and your sympathy quickly dies. "If Ozzy actually says the words, Fizz could say no-"

"He won't, that man's even more obsessed than Ozzy." Lucifer slumps a little in his chair, looking at you hopelessly, as if you had all the answers to his dear friends' worries. "I don't know how much more of his pining I can take, I might have to confess for him at this rate."

Throughout the entire conversation, you had been slowly shimmying yourself lower in the booth you sat on, which was incredibly hard with the way the skirt of your dress tugged against the soft velvet fabric beneath you, trying not to accidentally flash yourself as you worked. Now that you were low enough down, but still looked as if you were sitting upright, you slowly reach your right leg out, uncrossing your legs to give yourself some extra reach. You nod along to Lucifer's lamenting, smiling distractedly as you search for his legs underneath the table with your own.

Finally, the tip of your heel brushes against a soft fabric, and your smile brightens for seemingly no reason as your foot hovers near Lucifer's ankle, tapping against it gently, once, twice. If he notices he doesn't indicate it, carrying on with his complaining, now having moved onto Fizz and away from Asmodeus. Your foot rests gently against his calf, pressing minimally into the light white fabric as you respond to him.

"And how long did it take you to confess to me, hm?" Your head tilts as you smily cheekily, and Lucifer pouts when he realises exactly what you were about to say. "If it's longer than whatever they've got going on, I think you deserve to be his confidante. I'm sure you put him through it yourself."

"I-" He sighs, unhappy with the reality. "But it's- it's so painful watching them! I think it pains me more because it's Asmodeus. If anyone in hell has the courage to do something like that, it's him."

Your foot inches higher, slowly, and you're now midway up his calf. He's still too enraptured in his own friends love life to realise.

"He's the embodiment of lust, not love. This is as far out of his comfort zone as anyone else."

Your foot continues to inch higher, and as Lucifer thinks with a slightly downturned lip, you heel presses inward towards his knee.

"I'd argue they go hand in hand! I don't see how-" He suddenly stops talking, eyes honing in on you and lip falling into a firm line. "What are you doing?" You continue to smile mindlessly, watching as he stares at you contemplatively, hands fiddling with his menu as he becomes startlingly aware of exactly how high your foot had managed to inch.

"Whatever do you mean?" You tilt your head innocently, foot inching upward again and resting on the inside of his calf, just below his knee. "Has the wine gotten to you already?"

You jest with a jovial smile, but Lucifer is staring at you as if he had just managed to crack the Rosetta Stone, skin paling under the warm glow of the candlelight, and mouth falling open slightly. Realisation of what this night would be hits him like a tidal wave, and he stares hopelessly as he finally understands your eagerness to come to the meal. His eyes were large and lightly panicked, and that panic only increases when your foot shifts higher, pressing into the side of his knee playfully.

"Y/N, sweetie, you can't be serious-" He sounded like a man who had just figured out he had been sentenced to deaths row, and he certainly looked as if he had just received the news. ''you- you told me later."

"I'm not doing anything!" You grin devilishly with your chin rested atop your interwoven hands, and in that moment Lucifer knew he was in for a world of trouble. He stares at you tensely, silently pleading with you to let him enjoy the meal in somewhat peace. It was hard enough looking at you, nevermind with your foot inching higher and higher and beginning to press pleasantly against the lowest part of his inner thigh. "So, do you think Fizz will confess first?"

"I think coming to this restaurant was a mistake."

"I'm really enjoying my time." You chirp around a laugh, grinning as he shifts in his seat, your foot beginning to rub against his inner thigh slowly, up and down, each caress inching higher and higher. "Relax. I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself once the food arrives."

"I think I should've locked the door behind me when I arrived and kept you in the living room." He laments to himself, and you have to hide the way the comment has heat rushing up your neck. No, you were playing with him tonight, not the other way around. To prove a point, your foot presses harsher into his thigh, and you watch as he glances at his lap before settling his sight back on you.

"It really is a beautiful restaurant, and you booked a wonderful table, so secluded. Very romantic."

"I think you're enjoying this too much."

"Oh, I am."

The smile you send him has him nearly standing from the table, grabbing your hand and dragging you from the restaurant and into the nearest alleyway. It was a look that promised so much more than he had planned for this meal, and the fact that it was aimed at him had him sweating under his collar and regretting his teasing earlier in the night. He really was at your mercy, and he knew that you were aware of that, and that you had no intention of making this meal easy on him. He glowers at you from across the table, more upset with himself than you: he should've begged harder at your doorstep.

The waitress takes that moment to return with a smile and a writing pad, asking about starters and entrees and how you both were finding the wine. Lucifer goes to open his mouth to cancel the afternoon but you are two steps ahead, as always, ordering your meals with a sickeningly sweet smile and then redirecting your attention back to him, who now has to order food he doesn't even want for the sake of saving his image.

"-and I was wondering about the bourguignon, is it possible-" He nearly smashes his knee against the top of the table when you press the toe of your heel to the highest point of his inner thigh, grazing dangerously against his bulge and tugging his trouser material taut. He splutters for a moment, making a show of clearing his throat to hide his absolute shock, and clears his throat as he attempts to smile at the concerned waitress. "Ah, sorry, I'm a little under the weather but we've had this meal planned- anyway, could I please have that w-without-" His voice audibly warbles when you rock your foot slightly, pressing directly into the side of his bulge and continuing to watch the interaction with a grin. He has to clear his throat again. "without mushrooms please."

You continue to toe against his bulge as the waitress recites your orders back to you both, his hands clenching against the edge of the table as he attempts to nod along to whatever the waitress was saying. His hips attempt to shift away from your agonising touch, but you only stretch your leg further, pressing harsher and continuing to rock at that agonisingly slow pace.

"Excellent, thank you." He maintains his unsteady smile until the waitress is long gone, and then he's staring at you and breathing a little harshly as your foot continues to rub against him.

"Darling-"

"You look stressed, baby. Is something wrong?"

"Is this why you wanted to come to this meal? Just to toy with me?" He sounded like a woman scandalised, and something in his jaw twitches when you drag your foot back to the curve of his knee, before caressing as far in as you could reach.

"Depends, is it working?" You parrot back at him from earlier, and he takes a deep breath as he realises this was entirely his own fault.

"Of course it is."

"I thought you wanted to indulge yourself before our starters? Relax, indulge yourself."

"This-" His voice cracks again when you completely leave his thigh and toe directly against the centre of his problem, rocking up and down instead of side to side. His shoulders tense as his legs instinctively part at the contact, knees spreading slightly despite the agonised look he adorned. "isn't what I had in mind."

"Huh, this is exactly what I had in mind."

"Think about this," His breathing had become slightly harsher, and his hips twitched when your heel tugged the material of his trousers a little too tight, a dull pleasure slowly spreading that he was desperately trying to ignore. You laugh loudly at the desperate way he had already begun to plead, and to think, your starters hadn't even arrived yet. His voice drops as he whispers at you. "you want me walking out of here with ruined trousers? Because keep this up and keep looking at me that way and that's what's going to happen."

"I've barely done anything Luci." You shake your head feigning disappointment, foot stopping its ministrations and just resting right against his centre. "But don't worry, it wouldn't be much of a punishment if I did."

"Punishment?" He whispers bewildered, leaning forward in his seat and across the table to emphasise his disbelief.

"You're too pretty to throw yourself at me before our meal and expect me to just get over it." You tut, grin widening as he continues to gawp. The rosy hue of the apple of his cheeks had darkened considerably after the compliment. Oh, this was too easy. "If I have to spend the rest of this night in," You pause, leaning forward and dropping your voice to whisper seductively. "ruined underwear," A pathetic little sound catches in his throat, and you grin wickedly as his hips twitch against you. "I think it's only fair I have some fun."

"We could've stayed, I could've taken care of you." He really did have the sweetest way of wording things. In reality, he was envisioning you pinned beneath him on the sofa as his tongue and fingers set to work, and he was growing increasingly infuriated that he wasn't doing just that right now.

"You've not even let me kiss you yet." He begins, a hand reaching out to caress yours across the table, and you tilt your head playfully when you feel his breath fan across your face. "Isn't that punishment enough?"

"And you won't if you don't start behaving." The way your voice had taken on an authoritative tone has heat climbing up the nape of his neck, and his fist clenches tighter against the fabric draped across the table. "How can you expect me to behave when there's such a handsome man pleading with me? You're the gentleman, you should woo me until a much more acceptable time in the evening. This is a date, after all, where's the gentleman who asked me to come here?"

"You killed him when he saw you wearing that sinful outfit."

"Pity, because he won't see what's underneath until he returns." Lucifer can feel himself twitch within his trousers and it takes a great degree of self control to stop a whine from leaving his dry throat. You really had no idea just how you were effecting him, and he tugs at the collar of his shirt to try and get some air to the nape of his neck, he was surely going to combust soon.

You couldn't leave it there, and your fingers caress his own outstretched hand as you release the killing blow. "Understand?"

"God," He groans around a shuddering breath, pupils dilating as he shifts back in his seat. His trousers were growing increasingly uncomfortable, and the heavy weight of your foot against him made him startlingly aware of how little control he actually had. "yes."

"Good." You grin, completely unfazed by the entire conversation. Lucifer, however, had taken on a rather sickly complexion, with his cheeks and neck startlingly red against his pale pallor. You immediately steer the conversation in another direction when you notice the waitress heading towards your table with your starters, and the blond's despondent look as you begin chattering about something else has your ego inflating and satisfaction brewing in your chest. You were right, this was going to be a fun night.

---

You had let up with your teasing throughout the starters and the wait for the entrees, and Lucifer had returned to a far healthier appearance than before. He hadn't fully recovered, however, with his own imagination running off and assaulting his mind with downright sinful images as he tried to focus on his food and converse with you. Currently, he was rather lost in a fantasy of ducking under the table, pushing your underwear to the side, and actually eating something he craved, and not relenting until you had finished every scrap of food on your plate. He had had to shrug off his blazer, which now lay neatly folded next to him, and his burgundy shirt sleeves had rolled up to expose his forearms and try and get some cool air to his heated skin.

Yes, you had relented with your teasing, but you had given his mind all that he needed to have him thoroughly wrecked for the rest of the evening. He was doing a poor job of controlling his thoughts, and truthfully he didn't want to.

"Mmm." You hum, bringing the first forkful of your meal to your lips and humming as the flavour reached your tongue. "This is amazing, I don't think I've ever tasted anything better."

He watches with heavy eyes as you bring another forkful to your mouth, and his chest raises when you make direct eye contact with him as you moan again, a quiet little sound that no one else in the bustling restaurant would hear, but that he could pick up on like a gunshot through a forrest. He watches as you do the same again, and his forked tongue comes out to lick across his lips as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, gnawing on it as he thinks about the sounds he could entice from you if you just let him. This time, you hum slightly louder, making a show of playfully rolling your eyes into the back of your head as you close them, savouring the flavour on your tongue. Lucifer has to spread his legs under the table to make room for the half-hard bulge he'd been fostering that was now beginning to grow again. He loved you, but you were a cruel woman.

"Not hungry, Luci?" Your question was innocent enough, but all he could envision was throwing the plates to the side and dragging you on top of the table to have his way with you. Reputation be damned, he would do so if you gave him the nod.

"Positively starving." His voice was uncharacteristically low, not even sparing his food a glance. He hadn't even picked up his cutlery yet.

"Your meal looks great, I'm kind of jealous. If we ever come again I think I'd order that."

He wasn't paying attention to a thing you said, instead watching as your hands wrapped unusually around the top of your wine glass - a fancy looking tall slender intricately designed glass that emphasised the restaurant's heightened status - taking a negligent sip, and then placing it back down onto the table. You didn't place it down normally, however, and you watch Lucifer closely as your hand remains clenched around the glass, stroking all the way down to its base before tapping a polished nail against it. You can see the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows thickly, and you twist your wrist and hand around its base before letting it go.

"Everything okay, baby? If there's something wrong we can send it back."

"You," He takes a deep breath to compose himself, his nails digging into his palms as your foot resumes its gentle caresses against his inner thigh in some semblance of a comforting notion. "are something else, sweetheart."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"And I think you're going to kill me before I can ever ask for the bill."

"I'd hope not, I've been looking forward to dessert all day." You purr, foot once again resting in between his legs. His eyes nearly roll at the contact, and his fists clench tightly around the cutlery he had just picked up as his mind absolutely runs with the possibilities after your meal. "Something sweet, I think. Apple crumble, maybe?" His gaze snaps from the piece of meat he had just skewered with his fork to your dark gaze, the gold framing your eyes glinting enticingly and churning his stomach. "I think I'd rather just have the apple, really."

His hips involuntarily jolt towards the pressure of your heel against him, and the food he had brought halfway to his mouth is thoroughly forgotten as you grin at him from across the table, taking another sip of your wine.

"I-" He stammers, scrambling for the suave flirtatious version of the King of Hell as he tries to muster a response. "that can definitely be arranged, darling."

You smile as he finally begins eating his meal, seemingly intent on finishing it as quickly as possible, but that upturn of your rouge lips turns dangerous when you decide he was rushing this meal far too fast. This was an expensive restaurant with some of the finest foods in hell: he should savour it.

"Ah!" You yelp in surprise, your knife 'falling' from the table and clattering against the floor. "Sorry- you distracted me." You lie not that convincingly, but Lucifer is too distracted in his own mind and too prideful that his stumbling attempt at flirtation has you so flustered to question your behaviour.

You smile at him innocently as you lean down, commenting loudly about how you couldn't see the knife as you lower yourself completely from your seat onto your knees and under the table. You wait a moment, spotting the knife immediately and crawling over it as you reach for Lucifer's legs, your cheeks hurting with the size of the grin that stretched across your face. Both of your hands come to rest on both of his ankles, gripping them firmly as he jolts, pinning them apart as you hear his cutlery clatter from above you.

The darkness under the table is suddenly illuminated as he tugs the table cloth up, a pair of wide bright yellow eyes immediately gazing down at you as your fingers slowly travel up his shins.

"Darling, what are you doing?" He all but hisses, but his voice is high pitched and airy and resembles more of a desperate whine than a genuine question.

"Shh." Your hands rest on either or his knees, and you push them further apart as he gapes down at you. "Continue eating, I won't be long."

"No, no." He stammers, but his legs fall open easily. You can see his eyes jerk back up to survey the little entrance to your secluded booth, terrified of being caught. "Please, don't. I can't do this."

"Yes, you can." You encourage, hands resting heavily on his inner thighs, feeling the heat of his legs from beneath the thin material. "All you have to do is sit pretty and be quiet. I've got the rest."

"I can't." And as if to prove his own point, a choked wet sound catches in his throat when you prop your cheek against his knee.

"You're right," You contemplate, and he breathes a sigh of relief that quickly withers in his throat when he sees that you have no intention of coming out from under the table. "you have to keep talking or someone might get suspicious. Tell me a story."

His mouth falls open in disbelief, but you tug the table cloth from his hands and push it up against his lap to fully hide what you were about to do. He stares doubtfully at the white tablecloth that hid you from view, fists clenching atop the table as he swiftly regrets ever trying to convince you to stay at your home.

"Sweetheart, please-"

"I'm not leaving until you tell me a story, so you better make it a quick one." He doesn't move for a moment, and neither do you, but your nails dig into his thighs when you hear him pick his cutlery back up with a tense sigh.

"I don't- God, I can't think with you-" He mutters quietly, voice hitching when your palms slide up, fingertips caressing his prominent bulge straining against the white cotton of his trousers. You press a kiss to his inner thigh, careful not to leave a lipstick stain behind, and you grin when he moans and spreads his legs, hips pushing closer to your searing touch.

"The hotel? I saw you arguing with Alastor earlier." You offer helpfully, a palm resting flat against the outline of his dick and fingers curling around him horrifyingly lightly. You twist your wrist slowly, featherlight touches caressing through the white fabric as your other hand snakes lower, cupping his balls and squeezing.

Another choking sound, and you can feel the way he sucks a deep breath into his lungs.

"Y-yes. He was being his usually horrid self-" You press a kiss against the tip of his bulge, and this time a whine heaves from his throat that he silences by biting into his fist, face twisting in pain as he breathes deeply. He pushes his hips towards you, and your hands grab either of his hips and pin him in place as your brows furrow disapprovingly.

"That's not very gentlemanly of you." You tut, and you know he hears you when a choked whimper reaches your ears. Above you, he shakes his head to clear his thoughts, blond locks beginning to unravel from their neatly combed style as he steadily loses his composure that he had been clutching to all evening. You rest heavily against his thighs and hips, hands clenched into his belt loops and preventing him from shifting as you gather saliva on your tongue.

"Uh- He was moaning about some- some furnishing-" His voice cracks when you lean forward, licking a defined line straight across his length. He can't feel the wetness, but he knows exactly what you did.

"Honey, please-" He had stopped trying to barter with you altogether, plainly begging in that small voice you loved, breath hitching around every word.

"You've not finished your story."

"Ngh-" He groans to himself, panting and staring at his half eaten plate. It is then he realised your plate was completely empty, you didn't even need the goddamn knife. His shoulders and neck are impossibly tense, and his jaw aches with the way he clenches his teeth to stop any more sounds from spilling past his lips as one of your hands leaves his belt to cup his balls once again. "I-I don't want to talk about him while you're doing that."

You giggle to yourself from under the table. He loved the sound, but it was the furthest thing from innocent he had ever heard. "And who else would you rather talk about?"

"I don't." He practically whines, trying to lower his voice back to some degree of normality. "I want you. Please can we leave."

"Oh, no no." You shake your head with a laugh. "You think you've been good enough? You've been nothing less than a mess all evening, not gentlemanly at all."

Suddenly, his hands are gripping your wrists and yanking you from his beltloops, and you're about to tell him off before you hear another woman's voice chattering above you. You sigh to yourself, collecting the knife and beginning to crawl back into your own seat.

You sit back up with a gentle smile, fluffing your hair as the waitress glances at you, a perplexed smile on her face. "Sorry, I dropped my knife. I'm so clumsy it's terrible, isn't that right dear?"

Your gaze finally lands on Lucifer, and your chest expands in pride at how disheveled he looked. The familiar flaming heat had once again licked up his neck and cheeks, both of which were a startling red as he sucked deep breaths into his lungs. His shirt had become slightly wrinkled from the way that he had gripped at his tie, and some of his blond locks had fallen from their neat style. He was still an utter vision of sophistication and charm, but the frays at the edges were beginning to simmer inwards.

"Oh, honey," You feign surprise, but Lucifer's jaw works when he sees the utter lack of sympathy in your eyes. "maybe you really weren't lying earlier, you don't look well."

"I'm fine." He all but grits out, voice having lost some of that chipper charm it usually carried, a muscle in his jaw tense. "I was just saying how lovely the food has been and how I think we're done."

"Ah, yes. It really has been amazing." You smile at the waitress, who had begun clearing the plates away and piling them into her arms. Your gaze shifts back to Lucifer, and his brows furrow lightly in confusion at the sickly sweet smile you sent his way. "We were actually hoping to try some of your desserts? I think we decided on the apple crumble and the cherry roulade, right dear?"

If he hadn't been such a composed man, Lucifer may have started crying then and there. He felt as though the world had been tugged from under him and that he was falling into a baseless abyss, and the little composure that he had been clawing to his chest nearly tore in two as he realised he couldn't say no without looking like an absolutely terrible date. He stares at you with disbelief for a moment, brows raising as he tries to muster the courage to agree with you.

"Uh, yes. If you wouldn't mind that'd be great." He hands the waitress a side-dish, eyes looking incredibly watery all of a sudden. "Thank you."

With a nod and a comment about the time you'd both have to wait for the dessert, the waitress takes her leave, leaving yourself and Lucifer in deathly silence.

Lucifer was staring at you as if you'd just torn his heart from his chest and stomped on it right in front of him, with large wet eyes watching your hopelessly as you continued to sip from your glass of wine, smiling over at him with your rouge lips. For a moment, it looked as though he had stopped breathing altogether, but then his tongue wets his lips and he opens his mouth, a small sad dejected voice coming out.

"When you were talking about dessert-"

"Yes, the apple crumble, I can't wait to try it!" You chirp happily, and it takes all of your restraint not to laugh openly at the way his eyes fall down to his lap despondently. "What happened to your hand?"

His lips purse as he flexes his right hand atop the table, the unmistakeable mark of teeth red and glinting in the candlelight. You can see two prominent fang marks across his knuckle and thumb as you lean across the table, tiny droplets of blood having crusted along their surface. How you wished you could've seen him do that, you cross your legs tightly at the images conjured in your head. Truth be told, your own teasing was getting to you as well. From the looks of it though, Lucifer was crumbling much faster.

His desperate gaze lands on you. You knew what had happened to his hand.

You laugh, a hand coming up to cover your mouth when he doesn't respond.

"I'm sorry." He leans forward as he talks, and your eyes alight with something indistinguishable as he tries to appeal to your better nature. "You have no idea how sorry I am for earlier. I'll do anything- please can we take our desserts home? Sweetheart, please."

Your head tilts, faux confusion flashing across your gaze. "I appreciate the apology Luci, but I don't know what you're apologising for. I'm just carrying on what you started."

"I can't sit here for another moment." His voice had taken on that whiny pitch you loved, and your tongue wets your lips as both of his hands grasp one of your across the table. "Please can we go home."

"Of course," You hum, and he perks up in his seat before you begin talking again. "as soon as we've finished. I've been looking forward to this dessert all month. You've made it this long, one more course won't hurt."

His throat tightens painfully as he continues to grip your hand in his own grasp. The aching in his trousers was becoming unbearable, and to have you deny him after toying with him so openly gave him a sort of whiplash that had him nearly shoving his own hand down his trousers to just give himself some sort of release. He had been wanting since the moment he first saw you that night, and he was so close and yet so far from actually having you.

"Look, dessert's here now. Won't be long."

You both pull away as the waitress approaches, settling the two desserts in the centre of the table.

You immediately tug the apple crumble towards you with a grin, and Lucifer watches with the little self-restraint he had crumpling into an ashen heap as you immediately spoon a hefty helping of apple into your mouth, humming as you swallow. He doesn't even try to hide his thoughts anymore, eyes watching the column of your throat as you swallow, hands weekly pulling his own dessert unhappily towards himself.

"This really is an amazing restaurant Luci." You comment, leaning across the table and watching as he begins his own dessert, your own spoon dancing from your fingertips. "I'm so glad you brought me. In fact, I think this is my favourite date we're ever been on."

He hums at you, eyes squinting playfully as you continue to tease him.

"And you look so good, I can't lie you nearly won me over before we left my house, but I'm so glad I convinced you to come out. I've loved every minute."

You were being downright cruel, and the compliments went straight to the flaming heat in his boxers as he shifts uncomfortably, trying to give himself that tiny bit of friction he desperately craved. He tries to remain composed, despite his flaming cheeks and the sweat that beaded along his back and chest, resting his head on his left hand, munching slowly on the chocolate and cherry dessert. It really was an amazing restaurant, but he hardly remembered any of the food he had eaten, his thoughts and senses completely enraptured by you the entire evening.

"I would love to try your dessert though, it looks like you've ordered the better thing every course." He glances from his plate to you, confused at what you were insinuating. The last time you had spoken about dessert, he had been sorely mistaken, and so he sits, too apprehensive to really do anything for fear or disappointing himself.

You place your spoon down, leaning across the table and pushing your chest out tantalisingly, pearly white teeth visible as you smirk, a hand reaching forward and fingers curling around his collar. His eyes flicker between your sultry gaze and your heaving chest, and yet he remains rigid in his seat, absolutely terrified of raising his hopes.

"Darling-?" He questions softly as you tug him closer, following your hands with ease as your breath fans across his lips.

"Just a small taste."

And then your lips are on his and he openly groans into your mouth as you finally give him what he wants. His hands leave the table ledge to cradle your jaw, pulling you in closer as his lilac-hued eyelids close, tilting your head to give him better access as his brows furrow. Your tongue darts across his lips, and he invites you in willingly, another moan catching in his throat as you hungrily lick into his mouth, his tongue battling with yours as one of your hands clenches into the hair at the nape of his neck. You pull away all too soon, and he collapses back into his seat a red, panting, mess, lips glossy, gazing at you with disbelieving amber eyes, utterly and completely smitten. He watches you pick your own spoon back up from its place on the table.

"The cherry's nice, but I do think I prefer the apple."

As soon as you finish the last spoonful, Lucifer is calling the waitress over and requesting the bill, practically vibrating in his seat as you watch him leisurely. This had been one of your favourite dates, and you didn't intend on letting this be the end of your fun.

---

Tag List - @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @cyberpr1m3 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @froggybich

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #Lucifer x reader #Hazbin Hotel Lucifer smut #hazbinhotel smut #Hazbin Hotel smut #lucifer morningstar #Lucifer magne #Lucifer Morningstar x reader #Lucifer Morningstar x reader smut #smut #lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer

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crimsntwlip · 3 months

Text

it’s you | theodore nott.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

warnings: friends to lovers, reader avoiding theodore, reader status not mentioned, fluff fluff fluff !! kissing, google translated italian

summary: based on this request!

a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! i hope you enjoy this & happy valentines day lovelies!!!

| posted: 2/13/24 | masterlist |

y/n and theodore had always been two peas in a pod, ever since they first met on the hogwarts express during their first year. even when they were separated by the sorting hat, theodore being sorted into slytherin while y/n had been sorted into ravenclaw, they both knew they would stick together over the years.

y/n was currently sitting in divination class, your mind distracted as professor trelawney rambled on about interpreting signs and symbols from tea leaves.

it was a week prior to valentine’s day and you still haven’t been asked to be anyone’s valentines. you tried to not let it get into your head, but with everyone else around you getting mingled up, you couldn’t help but yearn to get asked. although there was a rumor going around that theodore had already asked another girl, you hoped it was untrue.

theodore, who was seated next to you, noticed your distracted figure and gently nudged you out of your thoughts. you wiped away your thoughts as you turned to face theodore, who appeared concerned.

you turned away, facing back to the professor as you were ready to brush it off when he leaned closer to your level. he whispered,

“are you okay, bella?”

y/n couldnt help but blush suddenly from how close he had gotten. you cleared your throat, trying to push the blush away, theodore's concern softened into a gentle smile.

“i’m fine, theo,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves in the quiet classroom. theodore's eyes searched yours, seeing the slight unease lingering behind them. he knew you well enough to sense when something was bothering you, even if you tried to hide it.

theodore nodded slightly, respecting your boundaries yet still keeping a watchful eye on you in hopes he would get something out of you at the end of class.

once class came to an end, you quickly pack your things away. you had plans to meet luna in the library for some studying. theodore stood by, watching you pack before he spoke.

“y/n, you know you can talk to me ri-”

“yeah thanks theo, sorry i have to go meet luna.” you quickly shut him down, hurriedly walking out. leaving theodore with a disappointing expression behind as he watch you go.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

when you arrived at the library, luna was already waiting for you at your usual table, perusing through a dusty old book with her signature dreamy expression. as she looked up and noticed your arrival, a smile lit up her face. once you settled in and began to study, luna noticed the distant look on your face and raised an eyebrow in question.

“y/n! what's on your mind? you seem a bit distracted today,” luna asked softly, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

you sighed, feeling the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “i just can't shake off this feeling of unease, luna. It's silly, really.” you paused. luna's expression turned sympathetic as she listened intently, offering you a comforting smile.

you continued, “its just.. valentine's day approaching and... well, nothing special planned,” you admitted, feeling a bit vulnerable opening up about your feelings.

as you were talking about your feelings about the upcoming holiday, theodore was making his way towards the library, in hopes he would run into you. as he entered the library he passed through the tall shelves, pausing as he heard your voice.

“and it’s not like i don’t want to get asked- don’t get me wrong but i was just hoping theodore would’ve asked me?”

theodore's heart skipped a beat as he heard his name mentioned by you. he had been hesitant to ask you to be his valentine, unsure if you felt the same way about him. but now, hearing your words filled him with a surge of hope and courage. he quickly grabbed a random book off the shelf, leaning to get a closer listen but still trying to stay hidden.

“i dont know luna-“ you groaned before continuing. “i mean bloody hell its been 6 whole years of this unrequited love! now i feel a bit silly.. and there are rumors going around about how theodore has already asked another girl. maybe i should give up..”

“you shouldn’t feel silly for loving someone,” luna spoke softly, comforting her friend. “plus rumors are just rumors y/n, they might not even be true.” luna offered you a gentle smile before silence hit the air again. not awkward silence but instead comforting silence, you were grateful you had a friend like luna.

theodore's heart skipped a beat once again. how could he have been so blind? as silence filled the air once more, he had forgotten he was even hiding until a second-year student bumped into him, causing him to drop the book he was holding and revealing his hidden spot.

as the sudden sound caught your attention, your head snapped up and you found yourself locking eyes with theo, who appeared startled like a deer caught in headlights

“hello..” theodore breathed out, feeling embarrassed that he was caught. you stood up quickly, “theo! how long have you been there?!”

theodore stood there, sheepish and unsure of how to respond. he sheepishly scratched the back of his head, trying to come up with an excuse. “uh, not long, i just arrived...” he trailed off, unable to meet your gaze.

you felt embarrassed. you knew theodore had heard everything. you gulped, hastily gathered your belongings, apologizing to luna, and made your excuses before rushing out of the library. leaving theodore behind once again, watching you go.

︵‿��‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

it has been days since the events occurred, and you still cannot bring yourself to face theodore. despite his efforts to talk about what happened, you have been avoiding him, afraid that you may have hurt your relationship.

theodore noticed your attempt at avoiding him. whenever you would see him come around the corner, you would always turn the other direction. if he approached you, you would suddenly remember something urgent you needed to take care of.

theodore couldn't bear the distance that had now grown between the two of you. he missed your company, your laughter, and the comforting bond that you both once had. it pained him to see you avoiding him.

on the day prior to valentines day, you were walking through the hogwarts corridors, trying your best to avoid theodore yet again. he finally caught up to you, his voice was gentle and laced with concern as he called out to you, “y/n, please... can we talk?”

you stopped in your tracks, reluctant but unable to ignore the pleading tone in his voice. you turned to face him, and in that moment, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes, the hurt that mirrored your own. taking a deep breath, you finally nodded, signaling your willingness to listen.

theodore took a step closer, his gaze searching yours for any sign of forgiveness or understanding. “i... i heard what you said in the library,” he began, his voice soft yet filled with emotion.

you interrupted him abruptly, assuming he would turn you down. “yes theo, i love you okay!” you said frustratedly, a faint blush crept up on theodores cheeks as you confessed. but before he could respond, you quickly added, "but I understand if it's not something you're interested in. i value our friendship too much to risk i-” cutting you off, he reached out, gently cupping your cheeks as he brought you into a kiss.

as you felt his warm lips pressing against yours, a rush of emotions flooded through you. the shock faded away as you kissed him back, melting into it.

when you finally pulled back, your eyes met theodore's, and you saw relief in his gaze.

“y/n,” theodore whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth. he reached out to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin affectionately. “you've always been something more to me,” he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. “and i want you to know that those rumors about me asking someone else were completely false. it was always you, y/n. it has always been you.”

as theodore's words sank in, you could feel your heart racing with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. you had never anticipated that he felt this way about you, and now that he had laid his feelings bare, you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness.

he continued, “and i've been wanting to ask you out for a while now, but i was afraid of ruining what we have. but if you're willing to take a chance on me, i’d love nothing more than for you to be mine.”

tears glistened in your eyes as you reached up to hold his hand against your cheek, savoring the warmth of his touch. “theodore,” you whispered, your voice filled with raw emotion, “i never thought you saw me the same way.”

a smile tugged at theodore's lips as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “i've been blind not to see it sooner,” he confessed, his gaze intense and unwavering. “i don't want to waste any more time pretending that we're just friends when we could be so much more.”

with a surge of courage, you closed the space between you, pressing your lips to his in a tender kiss once again.

#emsnotion #theodore nott #slytherin boys #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys imagine #slytherin boys x reader #harry potter fanfiction #theodore nott imagine #—crimsntwlipᡣ𐭩

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loveronlineee · 2 years

Text

The Metalhead and the Material Girl (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist All Parts

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: none

Synopsis: When a super fem new girl joins Eddie’s class he thinks he’s got her all figured out, but he soon finds out that the popular kids aren’t the only ones who judge people’s first appearances

Y/N notes: none

Okay I don’t usually do writers notes but I gotta say thanks to these four: @carolinaflicker @iamsiriuss @hauntingtherosebush @lindsey3300 for helping me out on the lil bit of D&D stuff I mentioned. Some of you guys had slightly different answers for me so if I’m still wrong let me know! (And other D&D playing peeps)

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

“I’m Y/N L/N. I transferred here from California for my senior year. I like pop music, fashion and hanging out with my friends. And I hope I can become friends with all of you!”

Pretty. Bubbly. Probably a bit of an airhead. The popular kids will scoop her up in a heartbeat. Eddie thought to himself looking up at the new girl. I wonder how long it’ll take for her to be just like everyone else.

The teacher pointed at the empty seat on the metal head’s right, giving the boy a stern look.

“Y/N I’m gonna seat you next to Eddie here at the front so you can help me keep an eye on him.” Eddie grinned and gave the teacher a wink.

Okaaaay here we go. Eddie thought to himself, leaning back in his chair. What kind of popular girl is this one gonna be? Disgusted by me? Weirded out? Just plain old pretend I don’t exist?

“Hi, Eddie was it?” The new girl asked with the biggest most genuine smile Eddie had ever seen. Her face was enough to melt away any built up hate he had accumulated from every harsh comment thrown at him throughout the years.

“Uh yeah Eddie. Eddie Munson.” He couldn’t help the smile appearing on his own face. This girl was a ball of sunshine.

“Nice to meet you Eddie.” He watched as she took out her things from her bag and set them out on the table. Everything was either pink, glittery or had a cute little character on it. She wrote the date on a new page in her notebook, doodling little stars around the numbers.

The teacher came over and placed a piece of paper on Y/N’s desk.

“This is your time table with your classes. Don’t be afraid to ask someone for help.”

“Oh thank you!” Y/N chirped before beginning to read through it. “Hey Eddie, what classes do we have together?” She tilted the paper towards him. Eddie leaned over and skimmed the page.

“Oh wow most of them. We got all the same ones today in fact.”

“Do you mind if I just stuck with you then?”

“Y-Yeah. Yeah that’s cool.” Eddie wasn’t in fact planning on going to all his classes today, like most days, but he couldn’t pass up the chance to get to know this girl more. He spent the morning walking Y/N to all her classes, pointing out other parts of the school she’ll need to know. He revelled in the looks the other students were giving him when they saw them together. The resident freak with a mystery bombshell.

Lunch came around and Y/N followed Eddie to the lunch hall.

“Hey I’ve been meaning to ask you… what’s on your shirt? Is it a band?” Y/N asked.

“It’s my club.”

“Oh cool! You run a club? What’s it about?” Eddie smiled at her as they reached his table of friends.

“A little game called D&D.” He turned to them and gestured to the new girl. “Gentlemen, this is Y/N.”

The boys all looked at her slack jawed, unable to think of anything to say. Luckily, Y/N had enough social skills for the whole table.

“It’s nice to meet you all! I started here today, Eddie’s been showing me around.” She explained as Eddie pulled out the chair in between his and Dustin’s and letting her sit down. He sat in his own chair at the head of the table just observing his friends trying to process this girl being here.

“You’ve been with Eddie…” Mike started asking very slowly, like he was waiting for the pin to drop. “…since this morning?”

“Yeah he’s been really helpful.” Y/N smiled at the younger student. “So are you two freshmen?”

Y/N continued chatting with Mike and Dustin. Eddie looked behind them at the popular kids who were eyeing him suspiciously. The cheerleaders all glaring and whispering to each other. “Eddie!” The metal head looked back at Y/N.

“Yeah?”

“So all these guys are in your club?” She gestured at the group. “You were gonna tell me about D&D earlier, what’s the game about?” Y/N asked, genuinely interested. Eddie grinned. He stood up like he was presenting to a class. Everyone sat up, hands neatly rested on the table, going along with the joke.

“D&D, or Dungeons and Dragons, is a fantasy table-top roleplaying game that only a select few at this school truly appreciate.” Eddie used theatrical hand motions as he described the game, putting one foot on his chair to add to the dramatic effect. “It is a game of teamwork, decision making, and the luck of the dice.”

He gave Dustin a small nod which prompted the boy to take a heavy book out of his bag and put it in front of Y/N. The Dungeons and Dragons Handbook. She began flicking through it, taking in as much as she could. She gasped.

“Can I be a fairy???” Eddie chuckled at her enthusiasm. He sat back down and shuffled his chair closer to hers.

“I’m sure I could homebrew something for you. Either that or you could be an elfen princess? If you just want that pretty ethereal girl look.” Eddie paused. “That… you’ve already got.” He looked back down at his hands, a little hesitant of his last line, before looking back up. Y/N was smiling at the compliment, easing Eddie’s nerves.

“Hey!” Two cheerleaders had approached the table, one calling out to Eddie with annoyance in her voice. “Why don’t you just stick with the freaks?” Eddie leaned away from Y/N and looked to the popular girls.

They turned to Y/N, who seemed a little confused. “You can come and sit with us instead.” One of them said, like she was doing the new girl a favour. Y/N looked over at Eddie. He kept his face the same, not wanting to influence her decision.

Of course he wanted her to stay, but he just couldn’t deal with the guilt of depriving Y/N of having an actual enjoyable high school experience. It didn’t matter how pretty she was, if she was hanging out with the freaks then she was gonna get bullied.

“Oh uh okay then.” Y/N replied apprehensively, slowly getting up. “I-I’ll be back in a minute.” She said as she was dragged away by the cheerleaders. Eddie pursed his lips together in a saddening smile.

“Suuuuuuuure you will.” He said just as Y/N got out of earshot. He looked around at the guys. “And that my friends, concludes the story of the time we almost got a hot chick to play D&D.” The group mumbled and chuckled, going back to their lunch, clearly no where nearly as affected as Eddie.

He knew this was inevitable. With who Y/N was and who he was. But a part of him, a small part of him wanted to believe that she’d stay. For him. That she wouldn’t get poisoned by the ideologies of the social hierarchy. But that was just wishful thinking. He looked back down at the table.

At least it was nice while it lasted.

“Sorry bout that.” Eddie looked back up to see Y/N again. “So I can be an elf princess?”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“…why are you here?”

“I did say I’d only be gone a minute.” She smiled. Eddie stared at her, unable to speak. His head slowly turned to the popular kids. They looked even more surprised than him.

“W-What about them?” He gestured.

“What about them?” Y/N asked, confused.

“Aren’t you gonna hang out with them?”

“They don’t seem like people I’d want to hang out with.”

“They don’t?”

“Do I look like a bully to you?” She joked. “So, elf princess? Yes?” Eddie’s smile retuned to his face.

“Yeah. Yeah definitely a princess.”

Tag list: @Mikinyi @justaproudslytherpuff @angelicjinwoo @k12baby @spiderman-berries @ruhro7 @justanotherhappyidiot @dontcallmesavvy @kenzi-woycehoski

#eddie munson #reader x Eddie Munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #st eddie munson #stranger things season four #stranger things x reader #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #reader x stranger things #stranger things imagine

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moonlightspencie · 1 year

Text

This Ain’t for the Best

Description: Mutual pining. Classic hunting scenarios. Sharing a bed. Wearing the other’s clothes. Confessions. Friends to lovers. Tswizzle title. Need I say more?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader

Warnings: a little bit of violence, me cramming in every cliché i can because i love the classic fanfiction tropes more than i love breathing

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: i was kicking my feet and giggling as i wrote this, especially when i snuck in criminal minds AND taylor swift references. i love writing and never beta-reading or editing what i’ve written. catharsis.

Crashing at Bobby’s had its benefits.

First, we had the comfort of knowing where we were going to sleep at night. It was good to have a bed waiting that wasn’t in a motel room.

Second, there was almost always good food around. I had a knack for home-cooked meals, and it was much easier to be appreciated for it when I actually had a stove to cook on.

Third, there were boundless opportunities for Sam, Dean, and I to kick back and actually relax.

That’s how I ended up in the kitchen, laughing with Dean over old stories we’d told a million times before. He reached in the fridge, pulling out two bottles after we’d come down from the most recent remembrance of an old case. He cracked open the top of his beer, then my drink, sliding it towards me on the counter. Sam and Bobby strolled in st that moment, pausing when they saw us.

“You both woke up like an hour ago,” Sam said, unamused.

“6pm somewhere,” Dean and I said in unison.

We looked at each other with a small laugh, leaving Bobby and Sam rolling their eyes. I took my drink and stood a few steps away.

“We should really get going, though, Dean,” Sam stated.

“Where?” Bobby asked.

“We were planning on doing a run to the grocery story. I don’t want us to eat up all your food without repaying you, and we’re almost out of beer,” Sam said, pointedly looking at his brother.

“This one needs more of those little fruity drinks, too,” Dean teased, nodding at the bottle in my hand.

“Hey, it’s still a malt liquor. Just one that I like,” I said with a laugh.

They said their goodbyes, and I started walking into the front room. Bobby watched the door for a few moment after the boys left, then turned in the archway and locked his gaze on me as I sat on the couch.

I looked at the bottle in my hand. “I know y’all are all about beer, but I can’t help if I prefer something with a little flavor.”

“That’s not why I’m looking at you,” he grumbled, fed up with me already. “What in the world is goin’ on with you and Dean?”

“Huh?”

He furrowed his brow. “Don’t act all shy, now. You two have been flirting nonstop lately.”

“What’s new? We’re both pretty flirtatious in general.”

“Not like this,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know the last time I saw that boy blushing, or you getting all flustered like a teenager.”

“I am not,” I scoffed. “Nothing’s happening, Bobby.”

“I’ve known your for five years, now, and I’ve known those boys since they were kids. You stayed in my house for a year, too. You can’t hide this kind of thing from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything. I’m an open book.”

Now, he scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m running for president.”

I rolled my eyes, taking another drink. He came closer, sitting down next to me.

“If you keep denying all this…”

I swallowed, finally resigning. “There’s nothing to do about it, Bobby.”

“Yes, there is. You could tell him.”

“It wouldn’t do any good. You know how he is, he doesn’t want to be tied down. If we don’t make any moves or promises or whatever, a lot less doesn’t get broken.”

He raised a brow. “I do know how he is. For you, he’d make an exception.”

“I don’t think so. Besides, it’s all just flirting for him. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Are you blind?”

I looked at him, brows raising. He shook his head, picking at the label on his bottle.

“Sorry. I just— I know what I’m seeing, and I really don’t think it’s just a little friendly flirting for him, either,” he said, looking at me again. “I really think you should speak up while you’ve got the chance to. We don’t often get good things with lives like ours.”

“I know. I just don’t want to screw things up.”

“You’re gonna end up screwed if you keep pushing it down, anyway.”

I sighed. He took that signal as a time to change the subject, and for that I was thankful.

“Well, let’s find you the next case, huh?”

The next one was an easy find, and it would’ve been great to break the news to the boys when they got back, if not for a very clumsy Sam walking in the door with a twisted ankle.

“You what?” Bobby asked, incredulous.

Sam sighed, pouting. “I rolled it when I stepped in a pothole.”

Dean shook his head, clearly hiding his amusement as he helped his brother hobble towards a kitchen chair.

“So, no case, then?” I asked.

Bobby perked up. “No, you and Dean can still go. I can take care of Sam.”

“Bobby…” I warned, seeing through him instantly.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Dean said, cutting off my death stare. “When was the last time we went on a case, just you and me?”

I looked at him.

“Seriously, you guys can go without me,” Sam said. “It might be good for you, Y/N. You seem a little restless.”

“I am not,” I defended.

Bobby chuckled. “Sure, you’re not. But I’m not suggested, I’m telling you. Get out of my house.”

I glanced at him, offended. “I am a delight.”

“You are, but I still want you out. You become much less delightful when you’re antsy.”

Dean laughed. “Come on, it’s only a state over, right? If we start driving now we can make it by sundown.”

I took a moment.

“Alright,” I nodded, heading towards the stairs to gather my things.

The case was a hot mess, to say the least. We couldn’t figure out what we were hunting to begin with, and the only true consistency is that the deaths were messy, leaving each victims with missing livers. It wasn’t until we were at the most recent site of the death that things took a little bit of a turn.

“What do you think?” Dean asked, leaning in my direction.

I shrugged, looking around the house.

“It seems… clean.”

“I mean, I guess. We haven’t found hex bags or EMF readings—”

“No,” I cut him off, gesturing around the living room. “Like physically clean. Nothing is out of place. Look at the mantle.”

I walked over, using my gloved hand to wipe along the surface. I showed him my hand.

“Clean. Not even dust.”

He raised a brow. “And that matters because…”

“Because we’re supposed to be looking for some monster-unknown that never cleans up their messes. Every other scene we’ve been to has been a wreck, so why is the only thing out of place the blood stains on the floor? This is also the first time it’s been in the victims house.”

He paused. “You’ve been watching Criminal Minds again, haven’t you?”

I rolled my eyes, taking off the glove.

“That’s not important right now,” I shook my head, standing next to him again. “And, for the record, it’s helping our case.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, profiler, why don’t you tell me more about what you’re gathering from the scene.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I said with a laugh.

He smirked, placing a hand on my back.

“Let’s get out of here and figure out why things changed.”

We followed dead-end leads all over town, until we hit a lucky streak.

“Check this out,” Dean said, calling me over to the table in our room. “Remember that dive bar our last vic was seen at? Look at this dude’s last social media post.”

I walked over, resting a hand against the table as I leaned in. I looked at the laptop, raising a brow.

“Same place.”

“Same place,” he confirmed. “Wanna check it out? See if anything suspicious is up?”

“You sure you don’t just want to hit the bar?”

He looked up at me with a quirked brow.

“What do you think I am? Drinking on the job. I’d never,” he feigned innocence.

I snorted. “Right. So not you.”

“Leave in ten?”

“Sounds good to me.”

We hit the road soon after, winding up at the bar with our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. There was plenty for us to see in a seedy town like this, but there was only one interaction that truly piqued our interested. I nodded at the man who was paying a little too much special attention to a woman, drawing Dean’s gaze in that direction. He was equally skeeved out. We kept an eye out for another hour or so before the weird activity took another step into the creep category.

We followed out the man who we caught following the woman, all the way to a neighborhood just outside the city. We made our move as soon as the man walked up to her house.

I followed Dean up to the house, and we started to slink around, waiting for any sign of trouble. I first checked through a window near the front of the house.

“Nothing,” I said, motioning for us to move further.

He took the lead, and we came up on a window that looked into the dining room. He slowly looked inside.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be freakin’ kidding me,” Dean mumbled, pulling his head back from the window.

“What?”

“Well, do you want the chance to play out your little crime show fantasies?”

I raised a brow. He sighed, shaking his head.

“That’s not— well, it is a monster in there, but not our kind of monster,” he said, tilting his head.

“It’s a human?”

He nodded. “Looks like it. Nothing supernatural that I can see. She’s passed out now, but let’s get a move on before he starts in on her.”

He started walking towards the back of the house, but I stopped him before we got to the door.

“Can— How do we do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s a human. We can’t just chop his head off or exorcise him.”

“We could still stab him.”

“But should we?”

He gave me a very unamused look, waiting for me to make my point.

“Can we attempt to just— Kick his ass and leave him to deal with life in prison? Only go for the shot if it’s necessary.”

He softened. “He killed people, Y/N, does he really deserve mercy here?”

“Do you really think the prison system is mercy?” I asked, earning a slight chuckle. “I just feel weird about killing humans unless our lives are in immediate danger.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Okay, we’ll play it your way. But if anything goes sideways—”

“Then you feel free to shoot him.”

He nodded curtly, then we continued to the door. He opened it carefully, and we stepped inside, checking our surroundings before we headed towards the woman in the dining room. We saw the man first, his back to us as he sat across the table from her.

“Playing house? Really?” Dean quipped, causing the man to whip around.

My gun was pulled before the man had a chance to stand up and react. He looked between us, obvious annoyance on his face.

“You’re not cops,” he stated.

Dean smirked. “No, we are much worse news for scumbags like you.”

“Now,” I started, “you can try and fail to fight your way out of here, or you can sit still while my partner here makes sure you’re sitting nice and pretty for when the cops do show up.”

Dean moved before he had a chance to formulate a response, dragging him out of the chair. The man tried to put up a fight, but it was pretty quickly silenced by means of a fist to the face. Dean left him on the ground after a few minutes and a roll of duct tape.

“Nice,” I commented, then put away my gun.

I moved to the woman at the table who was still passed out. I checked for a pulse, and when I was sure she was still breathing, I started undoing the binding that kept her to the chair. Dean called in an anonymous tip to the police station as I finished up clearing her of everything. She started waking right as I was about to try and move her to the couch.

“Hey, hey,” I said quietly, trying to give a little comfort before her panic set in. “You’re safe now, alright? You’re fine.”

Her eyes opened, and she immediately clung to me when she saw the man on the ground incapacitated.

“What happened?” she asked with a quivering voice.

“Me and my friend Dean saw this guy creeping around your house. We wanted to make sure everything was okay, and when we found out it wasn’t, we found a way in. The cops are on the way now.”

She nodded. “Thank you. Both of you.”

I glanced back at Dean with the ghost of a smile on my face. He raised his brows at me.

“Why don’t we get you to the couch?”

“You’re not staying?” she asked, still in shock.

“No, we gotta leave,” I said, helping her to the couch. “We’ll stick around for a few minutes outside till the cops get here, though.”

“Okay,” she nodded along absentmindedly as she laid on the couch.

I walked back to Dean, motioning for us to go outside. He looked back down at the man for a moment who was still passed out, then followed behind me. We got back to the Impala and waited.

“Weird to be thanked,” I said, watching the house.

He hummed. “Doesn’t happen often, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t believe we were accidentally hunting a serial killer.”

He snorted. “I’m surprised there’s not more crossover when we hunt.”

I hummed in agreement. “I also wonder why things changed so much. From the murders messy and public to being more confined in the homes.”

“Who knows,” he said, shaking his head. “Monsters make a hell of a lot more sense than people do.”

“You got that right.”

Soon enough we saw flashing lights coming down the street. We watched some officers step out of the first car, and a few more get out of an SUV.

“Is that FBI?” Dean asked, looking intently.

“I mean, we just found them a serial killer. They’ve probably been on high alert,” I said.

He nodded, and we watched for another moment as they prepared to go inside.

“Man, those vests are cool as hell in real life, too,” I commented.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he wrapped up the conversation with a laugh.

He pulled off the sidewalk at that, and started driving in the opposite direction of the cops. We decided to stay the night at the motel, neither of us awake enough to get back to Sam and Bobby. He pulled into the parking lot, and we trudged inside.

“At least we aren’t covered in monster guts this time,” I said as I fell onto the mattress.

“Right?” He chuckled. “Cool if I take the first shower?”

“Of course. I’ll be here.”

He shut the door of the bathroom, and I let out a sigh. All of the teamwork bull crap we’d been doing certainly didn’t help my case, but I could at least be thankful he didn’t want to go the bars and find a hookup. I threw my arms over my eyes and sighed.

“Hey,” I heard Dean’s voice call out, his hand on my knee.

I uncovered my eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve dozed off.”

He smiled. “Go take a shower.”

“You sayin’ I need one?” I asked with a quirked brow.

“Yeah. You’re a mess,” he replied, a playful glint in his eye. “I don’t know how I sat in a car with you all day, to be honest.”

I scoffed, getting up. He moved enough for me to get by, but didn’t let me get far before he started talking again.

“Movie tonight?” he asked.

I rustled through my bag, pulling out my pajama shorts.

“Sure.”

“Any requests?”

“Uh,” I started, still looking for a clean top. “Maybe a comedy. We could use something funny.”

“Good point.” He stared for a moment as I kept digging. “You missing something?”

“I can’t find my t-shirt. I thought I packed three in here.”

“Do you want one of mine?”

I paused, considering the offer. One one hand, I wouldn’t have to wear a cami to bed and risk accidentally flashing him in my sleep. One the other, I’d be wearing his shirt and that would be a sure way to get me in my own head. The risks of the first definitely outweighed my lack of self control.

“That would be awesome.”

He walked to his own bag, pulling out a shirt that matched the one he wore and handing it to me.

“I still think wearing our outside clothes to bed worked just fine.”

“Did you ever feel rested doing that?” I asked.

He sighed dramatically. I laughed.

“Exactly my point,” I said. “Most of your well-being has to do with mindset, Dean.”

He grumbled to himself as he settled into bed, and I took that as my chance to get in the bathroom. My shower was quick, especially since Dean used up most of the hot water. I knew I should’ve gone first, but it forced me not to stay in forever. I pulled on his shirt and my shorts, trying not to let myself smile when I saw myself in the mirror wearing his clothes. I walked back into the room before I allowed myself to think too hard.

He looked at me as I walked out, a smile creeping on his face. I fought back my own to raise a brow as I lingered at the foot of my bed.

“What?”

He shrugged. “Funny seeing you in my shirt.”

“Looks better on me than it ever did on you,” I sassed with a smirk, crawling into bed.

“Can’t argue with that,” he noted, still watching me. He cleared his throat a moment later, looking at the TV screen. “Uh, I found something, I think. They had Step Brothers on demand.”

“Oh, perfect,” I said as he clicked play.

We settled into a comfortable silence for a while, and I cuddled into the duvet. After we were halfway through the movie, I gathered the blankets around me even more.

“Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?” I asked, looking over to see Dean still sitting above the covers.

“It’s a little cold,” he shrugged, then looked at me. “I can check the heater.”

I nodded as he got up and crossed the room. He held a hand out, a puzzled look on his face after a moment. He smacked it with his hand, and still felt nothing.

“Hm. Hang on,” he said, moving to the phone. “Hi, I think the heater in here’s broken.”

A pause.

“Ah, great. Okay, thanks.”

He hung up the phone, looking to me apologetically.

“They said the heating’s down in the whole place.”

I sighed. “That sucks.”

He sat back in his bed, looking at me for a moment before he spoke again.

“I know it’s been a while since we had to, but do you wanna come sleep in my bed tonight? I run hot, it might keep you warm.”

“I know. I had to sleep next to you in the summer, and it was like roasting in an oven,” I chuckled.

“See? It’ll work perfect when you’re cold,” he said, standing again.

He pulled the covers back, getting underneath and patting the mattress next to him. I cursed myself for finding this case in the first place.

“Just don’t complain if I kick you in my sleep,” I said, getting out of my bed.

He chuckled. “I’m not worried about it.”

I got into his bed, and he threw the covers over me. He then reached over top of me to grab the remote, pressing play and slinging an arm around my shoulders. I pulled the duvet up to my chin, leaning into his side.

This position put me in a delicate spot, and I found that to be true more and more with every passing minute. Every time he laughed, I felt it reverberate in his chest. Every time he talked to me, I’d look up to see his face inches from mine. Every time he moved, he held me a little tighter.

In short, Bobby was all too correct about me being screwed.

“Hey,” Dean said, voice soft. “You okay?”

“Mm?”

I looked at him, once again trying not to think about the proximity.

“You always laugh at this scene. You didn’t make a sound this time.”

“Oh,” I chuckled, looking towards the screen. “Sorry, I must be exhausted.”

“Is that all? Seems like there’s something on your mind.”

“Alright, Dr. Phil,” I joked.

“Seriously,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I think I just need some sleep,” I replied, glancing at him again with half a smile.

He quirked a brow, clearly not believing me, but willing to drop the subject.

“Okay. You know you can always talk to me?”

“I know.”

He smiled softly, then looked back at the TV as he shut it off. He settled into bed, still holding onto me. I snuggled into his side, using his chest as a pillow. I felt him breathe deep before he shut off the light.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night, Dean.”

I woke up the next morning before he did, and decided there was little harm in remaining there. I shut my eyes, letting myself enjoy the fact that I was still snuggled against him. It gave me a moment to pretend he was mine, at least for the morning. I listened to his breathing, and wondered if he ever dreamt about me in the same way I did about him. As if on cue, his arm tightened around me a little as he stirred. His thumb brushed against my shoulder where his hand had snuck under the sleeve of the t-shirt, though I couldn’t tell if he was really awake until I felt a soft kiss against the top of my head.

At that moment, I decided it was probably best to continue pretending I was still asleep.

He stayed that way for a little while, his hand still against my shoulder, making little patterns with his thumb. It took everything in me not to move when I felt him brush a few stray pieces of hair away from my face, and even more when he let his hand linger against my cheek for when felt like a few seconds too long to be purely friendly.

I wondered if he was always like this when I wasn’t awake. Extra attentive, and sure not to wake me. Maybe that’s why I somehow remained asleep every time I fell asleep in the car that normally jostled me around like a rag doll with his driving. I wondered even more if Bobby was right about something else he’d said days ago: the unrequited feelings might not be so unrequited after all.

I nestled my head against his chest, trying to give him a warning that I was about to open my eyes, and he quickly pulled his hand away from my face. I took in a breath, blinking slowly as I let the light seep in for the second time that morning.

“Morning,” he greeted quietly, his voice still soft and raspy from tiredness.

I smiled. “Morning.”

“You hungry?” he asked, drawing my attention to him.

I nodded, leaning back a little to see him better.

“Very, and I saw a café on the way into town that looked good,” I said.

He smiled softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then, he yawned, finally sitting up. He turned and looked at me as I stayed laying.

“How’d you sleep? Warm enough?”

“Thanks to you, yeah,” I replied, stretching. “I’m scared to get out of bed, now, though.”

He patted my leg over the covers, “If you want food, that should be motivation enough.”

“Good point.”

I reluctantly climbed out of bed as he walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It was cold, but not unbearable. I decided to throw on some clothes in the room since he always took a while in the bathroom. By the time he was finished, all I needed to do was wash my face and brush my teeth, then we were off.

Breakfast was short and sweet, and we made it back to Bobby’s in record time. We strolled in the door, seeing Sam gimping around the kitchen as soon as we walked in.

“Still letting that ankle beat your ass?” I asked immediately.

He laughed. “Trust me, if I had any control over it, this wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”

“Maybe you just wanted out of the hunt,” I said in reply.

“Oh yeah, I loved hanging out and making Bobby bring me ice packs all day. Dream vacation, actually.”

Dean shook his head with a smirk. “You didn’t miss out on much anyway.”

“How’d it go?” Sam asked as he took a seat.

I looked to Dean who was already glancing in my direction. I shrugged.

“We stopped a serial killer, actually,” I noted.

Sam gaped. “And I ‘didn’t miss much’?”

“Just knocked him out and called the cops. Not much fun, anyways,” Dean shrugged. “Oh, we did find maybe the best pancakes I’ve ever had, though.”

I hummed in agreement enthusiastically, nodding.

“They were freaking incredible,” I said, then looked back at Sam. “And they had like, real, fresh maple syrup.”

“Unlimited stacks when you bought the platter, too,” Dean chimed in with a gleeful smile.

“You two sound like an old married couple,” Sam scoffed out with a laugh. “What, did you fall asleep together after reading the newspaper, too?”

“After watching a movie, actually,” Dean corrected, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Then, he looked at me. “Did you want anything?”

“I’m okay.”

Sam looked between us, a raised brow and an amused look on his face.

“You two actually fell asleep together?”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s what you choose to focus on?”

He smiled mischievously, then looked at Dean.

“Making moves on her, now?”

Dean swallowed, glaring at his brother with wide eyes. I furrowed my brow, about to see if I could prod Sam for information, but Bobby walked in before I had the chance.

“Hey, you two. How was the hunt?”

Dean let out a breath. “Not real eventful. I could use some sleep.”

He started walking out of the room, all of us watching as he left. Bobby turned to me first, a questioning look on his face.

“Don’t look at me,” I said with my hands up in defense. “I think Sammy pissed him off.”

“Real smooth, Sam,” Bobby commented.

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. Bobby merely sighed, going to take a seat across from Sam. I looked at them both, hands on my hips.

“Why do I get the feeling you two know something I don’t?”

“Did Dean not talk to you?” Sam asked, looking at me.

“We talk plenty.”

“That’s not what I mean. He said he was gonna talk to you when the next case was over,” he stopped, then looked at Bobby. “Case came and went, and still nothing.”

Bobby shrugged. “Out of our hands, Sam. Told you not to meddle.”

I sighed in annoyance. “You two are children, you know that?”

“Hey,” Bobby said, offended.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” I said finally, turning for the door.

The second I was halfway out, they started talking again, but I couldn’t bring myself to care too much about what they said. Clearing my mind sounded like the best option, and I was determined to do it.

I started walking around the yard, music blaring from my phone to keep me preoccupied as I watched the sky light up with a million different colors. I found an old car with a relatively clean exterior and decided to climb onto the hood. I leaned back, watching the sky as it turned darker, the stars slowly peaking out.

“Room for one more?” Dean’s voice asked from behind me.

“Come on up,” I said, scooting over a bit.

He came and sat next to me, looking up at the sky. He let out a slow breath, then looked at me.

“Taylor Swift?”

“You know it,” I replied.

He smiled, turning his head back.

“Stars are coming out,” he commented.

“They are. You should’ve seen sunset, it was gorgeous.”

He scooted closer, leaning his head against mine silently. After a moment, I let myself lean against his shoulder a little more.

“You okay, Dean?” I asked after a beat.

“Of course. Why?”

“I dunno. You just seemed a little off when we got back today.”

He sighed. “Yeah. It’s— It’s nothing.”

“You sound like me, now.”

He chuckled. “Guess we’ve got the same bad habit, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so.”

We stayed there until it got dark enough to really see the stars come out, not moving even when the chill of the night started creeping in. I readjusted my head against his shoulder, preparing myself to speak again.

“Did you really follow me out here just to look at stars?”

I felt him still. Then, after a moment, I sat up a little straighter and looked at him. He glanced back at me, clearly feeling caught out.

“Thought you could use some company.”

I raised a brow, and he smirked, looking away.

“Alright, you got me,” he said, “What gave it away?”

“First off, I’ve known you for years,” I started, nudging him in the arm. “Second, Sam and Bobby were all uppity about the fact that you apparently told Sam you had something to talk to me about.”

“I swear, he can’t keep a secret to save his life when it comes to stuff like this,” he said, rubbing at his face.

“Well, try me,” I said, unable to keep my eyes off of him. He was extra cute all flustered. “I’m a good listener.”

He let out a breath, then looked at me, scanning my face for a moment.

“I know I’ve got a certain type of reputation—”

“You?! No way,” I exclaimed with a smile, my eyes wide.

He laughed. “Exactly my point.”

“You know I don’t care about that, though. Reputations are a one-sided story.”

He hummed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

He sighed, looking back at the sky for a moment.

“I just,” he started, giving a shrug, “I feel like it— Like it makes people feel like I never want anything but a hookup, you know?”

“It makes people feel that way?”

“I’m that easy to read, huh?” he asked, looking at me again with a faint smile. “You. I mean you.”

“I gathered that much.”

He laughed softly, as did I.

“How’d you know?”

“I had suspicions fueled by Bobby. Then you kissed me and started being all affectionate when you thought I was asleep this morning.”

His eyes widened. “You were pretending to be asleep? That’s so not fair!”

“Hey, I woke up snuggled into my own personal space heater, I didn’t exactly want to be up and at ‘em.”

He rolled his eyes, tugging me into his side with an arm around my shoulders once more.

“How long has it been for you?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t even know. I guess I started realizing it a year or so ago.”

“That’s embarrassing for me, then. I knew the second I met you,” he said with a laugh.

“Dean,” I said with surprise. “It’s been half a decade! No wonder Bobby got on my ass about it before we left.”

“Well, hey, Sammy’s been on mine for a couple years. You got off easy up till now.”

I laughed. “I guess so. To be fair, we were flying under the radar for quite a while, though. The incessant flirting the past few weeks is what got us in trouble.”

“Why did you start being extra flirty, anyway?” he asked, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

“I don’t know. I guess I was, like, subconsciously seeing a window. You haven’t been doing your normal bar hookups the past few months, so I thought maybe there was a reason for it,” I paused. “Though, finding out you’ve been crushing on me for five years kind of makes me question that.”

He snorted out a laugh. “Easier to keep my mind off you that way. That sounds terrible. I just— I never thought in a million years you’d think anything of me.”

“Well, when did you realize I might?”

He sighed. “You remember a couple weeks back when we were taking down that vamp nest? You easily could’ve died, and we hugged afterwards, but when I pulled back I… I saw that look in your eyes that seemed an awful lot like how I look at you when you’re not paying attention. I wanted to kiss you, and I didn’t doubt in that moment that you would’ve let me if I had.”

I paused. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared. We’ve been friends for so long, and we practically do everything together. I didn’t want to ruin anything on the off chance that I was reading those signs all wrong.”

“You weren’t.”

He fell quiet for a moment. I looked up at him, and he looked back at me as I did. He quickly wet his lips, drawing my gaze downward before my eyes flicked back up to his. His lips parted momentarily. Then…

“We should get back inside. It’s getting cold out here,” he said quickly.

I nodded curtly, pulling away to let him get off the hood first. He gave me a hand, helping me down next. We walked back to the house quietly, saying soft goodnights before we went to separate rooms.

I was all settled in for the night, cozy in my bed with a book in hand. Then, I heard a knock on the door. I grumbled as I got up, annoyed that I had to leave the comfort of a mattress that wasn’t a sure cesspool of germs I didn’t want to think about. I flung the door open.

“Someone better be dying or I’m gonna kick some ass for—”

Dean’s lips crashed into mine, effectively silencing me from my rant. I melted after a few seconds of mental delay, my hands gripping onto the material of his shirt as his cradled my face. I felt him smile into the kiss, drawing my closer with arms that snuck around my waist, holding me tight. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss once he was sure that the signs were all giving him a positive response.

We finally broke apart a few minutes later, breathing heavy with pounding hearts.

“I figured I should stop letting opportunities pass me up,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, good thinking.”

His eyes scanned over me, his chest still heaving.

“You wouldn’t happen to need another space heater for the night, would you?”

“I run cold, what can I say?” I replied with a smirk, and a spark in my eye.

He smiled, walking me into the room with his lips on mine, kicking the door shut behind him.

(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)

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#i haven’t written a spn fic in years this felt good #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #delicate #reputation #taylor swift #gender neutral reader

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weasleykisses · 7 months

Text

Never His (Remus Lupin x Reader)

A/N: when James needs help asking out Lily, he enlists you to play his fake girlfriend to make her jealous. In the process, you end up making Remus Lupin green with envy.

18+ Version Here

Word count: 6.2k

You weren’t expecting James to throw himself into the chair across from you in the library, his face holding the most desperate of looks. He brushed his messy hair back from his forehead as he got situated in the seat. James looked like he had run all the way across the school to find you. You raised a brow, peering up from the textbook on the desk that you were trying to study. Remus turned to stare at his friend as well, taking a break from his own reading.

“Y/N, I need your help. It’s super important.” That could mean a lot of things, you thought. He was known for being quite the drama queen after all.

You replied smoothly, “I’m afraid I’ve got to hear the terms and conditions before I agree to anything.”

“Be my girlfriend,” James said bluntly. This took you by surprise. Your jaw fell slack, looking at him as if he had two heads. Was he insane or just incredibly stupid? What the hell happened to his obsession with Lily Evans? Since you met the boy in third year, he hadn’t shut up about the beautiful redheaded girl. She was certainly a catch too, with her looks and her brains. Who wouldn’t want to be with a girl like that?

You could feel Remus sit up straight as a board in the seat beside you, staring over at James with his eyes narrowed. The change was barely noticeable. James probably missed it; he was never very perceptive. You, other hand, noticed. Of course you did. You noticed everything about Remus. He was like a novel you had read a million times, comforting and familiar. Anything out of place, you took notice of.

You could certainly feel the tension coming off of Remus is waves. He never liked when James and Sirius fucked around with people for the hell of it. It wasn’t that he was a stick in the mud or anything, it was just that he hated when those two disturbed his peace with you. Hated it. Couldn’t he spend a few hours away from them? Enough time to appreciate your company?

Cautiously, you asked, “James, have you gone mad?”

He shook his head, eagerly reaching across the table and clasping both your hands between his, shaking them with excitement. “No, I have not! I’ve actually come up with a brilliant plan, but it will only work if you agree to help me out,” he said a bit too quickly, and you furrowed your brows, still awfully confused by the entire thing.

Remus was silent, just observing. He was angry, how could he not be? You were his girl. Well, not really. He had never asked you out, or implied he wanted you to be his girlfriend. But everyone knew that he liked you, maybe not you yourself, but everyone else. This included James. He should know better than to ask you out, especially right in front of him. It was cruel.

He wanted to argue with his best mate, James. Give him a shove in the shoulder and tell him to fuck right off. He refrained though. He wasn’t that bold, nor did he have the right to control what you did with your life. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He wouldn’t ever be your boyfriend. He just had to keep his mouth shut.

“Mind explaining then, Prongs?” you asked, pulling your hands from his grasp to cross your arms over your chest and leaning back in the chair.

“Be my girlfriend, just for a couple weeks, maybe a month. I’ll do anything you want if you help me out.”

“Why would you want me to be your girlfriend for any amount of time?” you scolded him.

“I want to make Lily jealous. The only way I can do that is showing her that I’ve moved on to other girls, but I don’t actually want to date anyone else,” he said, “You’re one of my best mates, and I don’t have to worry about you catching feelings for me like the other girls would.” He cracked a grin when you rolled your eyes at his cockiness. James wasn’t ugly, but he also didn’t have girls falling over themselves to be with him like Sirius did.

“Oh, thank Godric. I thought you actually wanted me to be your girlfriend.”

“Of course not. You’re like a little sister to me,” he laughed.

“Anyway, what would I have to do?”

Be my fake girlfriend for a month and I’ll buy you anything you want. We only have to pretend when we’re in front of other people, especially the girls. It’s basically fool-proof.”

“More like foolish, you dumbass,” you sighed. It wasn’t the worst proposition, considering James and his family were rich as fuck. He really could buy you anything you desired.

Remus was pretending that he didn’t care, his eyes trailed back down to the novel in his hands. James was just up to no good again, nothing out of the ordinary. He was hoping you would decline James’ request, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. You were great friends with James, and were usually willing to help him out in any way you could. He hated that he had to sit there and listen to you discuss plans to date like it was completely normal.

“Please, Y/N, please. You're the nicest girl I know. You gotta help a friend out,” he begged.

Just shut the fuck up, James. Remus thought to himself. He would never say it aloud though.

“Fine. I expect half of Honeydukes inventory as compensation, but I’ll do it,” you told him with a heavy sigh. He punched the air enthusiastically then hugged you so tightly around the middle that he lifted you from your chair and swung you around in his arms. He was quite strong from being a dedicated chaser, after all. You laughed nervously, pushing against his shoulders so he would set you back down. “Really, it’s no big deal. I’m doing this because I think you and Lily would be cute together, alright?” You told him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied swiftly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Sit next to me at dinner today. We’ll play it up then, make it public.”

“Okay.”

He turned around after giving you one last thumbs up, rushing out of the room to no doubt tell Sirius about his plan. They did everything together, so of course Pads would either figure it out himself or find out after James caved and explained himself. You took a seat again in the wooden library chair, sinking down with your hand pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t know why you entertain him,” Remus finally commented. He sounded bitter, but you figured it was just because your study session was interrupted.

“No harm done. I get a bunch of candy, he gets one step closer to the girl of his dreams,” you reasoned, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand.

If you were being honest, you wished that it was Remus asking you to be his girlfriend, but Remus didn’t care for you like that. You were just friends. Both of you enjoyed your quiet time together, whether you were reading or drinking a cup of tea. You liked to go to Hogsmeade together and drink butterbeer in a booth, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. It was something the other boys weren’t interested in. You could try hanging out with Lily, Dorcas, and Marlene, but they would always drift off to talking about boys, James in particular.

Remus just had a way of keeping your attention, entertaining your curious mind. You two had become so close over the years because of it.

You were the one that snuck into their dorm on nights after the full moon, healing potions in your pockets and bandages at the ready to clean up his injuries. You didn’t mind that he was a werewolf, in fact, you thought it was pretty interesting. It compelled you to work harder in your studies to be a healer, so one day you might be able to lessen his pain. Needless to say, you really liked Remus. He was handsome, tall, positively dreamy, and oh-so-sweet like honey and sugar. He was one of a kind, and you would be lying if you said his determination to stay just friends didn’t sting a little.

But the world keeps turning whether or not the boy you fancy likes you back. You tipped your head down again to study the text in front of you. Studying was especially hard now that you couldn’t think of anything other than James asking you to be his girlfriend before you mustered the courage to ask Remus.

______

The next time you saw James was at dinner that evening. You sat beside him after he waved you over. Normally you would sit on the opposite side with Remus flush against you to make room for everyone else at the table. Today, Sirius sat beside Remus and you took Sirius’ seat right beside James. He slung his arm around your shoulders to get you closer to him.

The brunette practically pulled you into his lap with how eager he was, and you yelped, garnering the attention of the other boys at the table. Remus scowled, turning his head down to glare into his soup. James didn’t have to be so dramatic. Lily would get the point without all the theatrics.

In fact, Lily was sitting at the other end of the table with her eyes trained on you and James. She looked a little perturbed, and when James turned to glance down the table, she quickly turned her head away, pretending she wasn’t at all interested. Real smooth, Lily.

You knew Lily liked James, at least a tiny bit. She talked about him far too often not to. You were in a few classes together, and James was a frequent topic of discussion. While Lily would never admit to her crush, she hinted at it here and there. It was a similar situation for you and Remus, who you vehemently denied having a crush on for a few years now. Lily was probably shocked to see you in the arms of someone else.

You played it up for the crowd, people from the surrounding tables looking at the both of you and whispering amongst themselves. Y/N and James? How scandalous.

Your hands were clasped together, fingers intertwined and sitting between you on the table for everyone to see, and it disgusted Remus. Sirius was practically gagging at the sight of two of his best friends being so openly affectionate, but at least his disgust was jokingly. Remus was genuinely disturbed. He wanted to leave the dining hall and head right to his dorm for the night, just to avoid the pangs of betrayal assaulting his heart.

He ducked his head to take a deep breath, trying to pretend like nothing was wrong. That James and the girl of his dreams openly acting like a couple wasn’t completely tearing him to shreds.

He figured Sirius caught on to how he was feeling because the black haired boy turned to him with a sympathetic, half smile, as if to say “what can you do?”.

“I missed you today, babe,” your voice dripped out, oozing with fake attraction. A sickly bright smile crossed your lips as you looked at James. Even worse so, James leaned forward and gave you a kiss to your cheek, and it didn’t even phase you. Since when were you and James so close? Even with the two of you playing it up, Remus never expected you to be so casual about it. It was like flirting with James came to you so naturally.

The pair of you laughed together and faked lovey dovey smiles here and there. It seemed to work too, because after only about ten minutes of PDA, Lily was packing her belongings and marching right out of the Great Hall with Mary following closely behind, most likely to console her. James grinned even brighter at that and pumped his fist in the air.

“I think it’s working,” he said happily, and you nodded. You still had to hold hands, to keep up the image for everyone who didn’t know it was fake, but at least you could chill out a bit without her around. You sipped on the baked potato soup in front of you.

“Working a little too well, don’t you think? What if she gets so upset that she moves on from you completely?” Remus asked, rather grouchy as he did so. He felt so sick to his stomach, unable to take another bite of his dinner without his inside churning.

He decided he was done with his dinner after looking up to his two friends all cuddled up with each other, deciding he had better things to do than endure this torture. He packed his bag and stood. You watched him stand, and quickly followed, gathering your belongings just as he did.

“Rem, wait up. Where are you going?” It wasn’t like him to leave dinner so early. You figured something was wrong. Your worries were only confirmed when he let out a long, exhausted sigh. You knew him too well to let him sneak past unscathed.

“I just need to take a walk. Not feeling the best,” he lied. Well, technically it was true. He felt like shit, just not in the way he wanted them to think.

Behind your back, you missed the look Sirius and James shared, that sneaky smirk coming to rest across James’ face. You also missed the way Peter snickered a bit under the cover of his hand. His friends were absolutely awful for doing this to him, but they thought it was the only way to wring a confession out of him. Hit two birds with one stone, as they say. Get both Lily and Remus jealous at the same time, hopefully uniting two perfect couples in the process.

“Well, I’m coming with you. We can go take a walk in the courtyard.” He didn’t protest as you hurried to catch up him and his long legs, your robes flying behind you as you rushed ahead. Just because you were “dating” James didn’t mean you were going to ignore Remus when you thought something was wrong.

And so, you followed your tall friend out of the dining hall into the hallway, making a b-line for the exit doors heading into the transfiguration courtyard. He felt a little better knowing you were with him and not cuddled up to Potter anymore. He was incredibly jealous, not that he would do anything about it. He didn’t even have the right to be jealous either. He had to remind himself time and time again, you weren’t his. You never were and most likely never would be.

It wasn’t long before the pair of you found your ways to a covered bench in the courtyard, sitting side by side, staring at the fountain in the middle of the snow dusted grass, looking into the pool of frozen water complete with golden coins preserved in the bottom. It was a muggle tradition that some students brought from home to the castle. They’d throw a coin in and make a wish, hoping it to come true.

There had been a few times you tossed a galleon in there, begging Merlin himself to give you what you wished for most in the world. The boy sitting right beside you, in fact. You had been making those same wishes for years now, and each time you were let down. Remus never asked you to be his girlfriend, nor did he kiss you in the rain like you always fantasied about. He hadn’t noticed the hints you would give him about how you felt, either ignoring them or choosing to be oblivious to them.

You cried many tears over the years because of your feelings for the boy. How conflicted you felt about confessing to him. You worried you would miss your opportunity and he would move onto another girl, but you also feared for your friendship. You didn’t want to make things awkward and lose him completely.

You watched the snowflakes as they fell around fountain, wondering what happened to all those wishes. Every wish you made begging to finally be his.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, looking down at your skirt and knee high socks, a thin slit between them exposing your bare skin to the frigid, snowy air.

You shook your head, snapping out of your daze. “I’ll survive,” you laughed, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

“Really, Y/N, it’s nothing.”

“The only other time I’ve seen you storm out of the dining hall before having dessert was the day Sirius put a whoopie cushion under your seat. You can’t lie to me, sweetheart.” He felt his heart pang in his chest at the nickname you always used for him. He wanted to be your sweetheart, to love and kiss you whenever he wanted. To hug you to his chest and profess his love into your ear. He wanted to hold hands with you during lunch, and to have you sit in his lap in the common rooms, regardless of who was around to see. He wanted everything to do with you. He wanted to just drown in your soft words and your gentle touches.

But he knew, just because you want something doesn’t mean you’ll get it. It felt like he needed you, to breathe, to eat, to sleep, to function like a normal human being. Maybe it was his naive 18 year old brain telling him these things, but he swore that he loved you more than anyone could imagine. He loved you from the tip of your nose all the way down to your feet. Every inch was perfectly tailored just how he liked it.

“Whatever it is, you’re gonna be alright,” you assured, nudging his shoulder gently with your own. For a moment, he forgot about the entire James situation and just thought of you, how you made him feel, and he did feel alright. He always felt safe when you were around. Even when he was his most vulnerable after a full moon, he trusted you to care for him.

James didn’t know you nearly as well as Remus did. He knew it was stupid to worry about you catching feelings for the brunette chaser with a wicked grin, but he couldn’t help it. Not when he had seen girls flock to his two attractive best friends for years. He knew it was stupid, and he knew he should live in the moment.

In this moment, he had you to himself. He could pretend you were his, all he ever wanted.

“I guess you’re right,” he mumbled, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Me? What about you? You always know just the right things to say.”

He wanted to say just how much he loved you. He could feel the words stuck in the back of his throat, and he just wanted to cough them up. You took his breath away, literally.

It was quiet for a long time, just the two of you sitting there quietly, listening to the chilly breeze flying through. Your hand rested beside his on the bench, your fingers close enough that if you moved a couple centimeters you would be touching. What he wouldn’t give to hold your hand in his and press kisses to your knuckles.

He needed you, and he was just so scared. Seeing you with James made him upset enough, but the thought of losing you completely made him feel worse. Your time at Hogwarts was ending soon, and he worried so much, overthinking every little thing.

He wondered if you thought about the same things. If you worried about your life when you graduated. Where you would go and what kind of person you’d turn out to be. He knew you spent a lot of time working on healing spells, assisting in the infirmary when you could. You wanted to be a healer at St. Mungos, saving people.

Maybe you could save him, too, keep his head above water when things got difficult. The life of a werewolf is never easy, and he couldn’t imagine what it would be like without you by his side to ease the pain.

“When we are done with all this- Hogwarts, I mean…You’ll keep contact with me, right?” he asked, feeling that familiar sickness churn in his stomach, afraid of what you might say. He knew you would never say something cruel, but he found himself preparing for it each time. He was afraid he would never hear from you again once you found a good job at the hospital taking care of patients, running around each day busier than the next.

He felt the self-deprecation sneaking back in.

You nodded your head furiously. “Of course! I would never forget about you, Remus, you know that right?” When he didn’t respond, you reached up to take both his cheeks in your cold hands. You ran your thumbs along the scars across his face ever so delicately, he felt like you were running a feather against his skin. He sighed into your touch, leaning his head into your hand. “You’re my best friend. Nothing and no one could ever take me away from you.”

Bravely, he reached out so his strong, calloused palm rested on your thigh, his fingers pressing warmly against that gap between your socks and your uniform skirt. Shivers ran down your spine at the touch. He was so gentle with you, it made your heart melt into goo at the mere thought of his touch. You were sure he could hear your heart beginning to race with how hard it pumped in your chest, how excited he was making you.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear him over the wind blowing against your ears.

“If anything, I don’t deserve you.” You ducked your head as you felt heat rush into your cheeks. “You’re perfect, Remus. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

After taking a deep breath, he started, stumbling a bit over his words, “Y/N- I have something to tell you.”

And you swore he was going to kiss you. As he stared down into your eyes, his eyes flickering down to your lips a few times. You waited for it, sitting there in anticipation, watching his every move. You felt his hand resting on your thigh, rubbing small circles against your bare skin. Goosebumps rose to the surface and you shivered more from the contact than the cold breeze whipping against your face.

You were sure he was going to kiss you, if only the doors to the courtyard didn’t burst open with students barrelling through the doorways. Quickly, you pulled your hands down to your lap and he shoved his hand into his pocket. Your eyes trailed to the ground, and you mentally cursed yourself for being too slow, for not kissing him yourself when you thought the time was right.

Maybe he didn’t intend to kiss you. Maybe he was confused and was just showing you affection to reciprocate your own. Either way, you felt a spark with Remus that you hadn’t felt with anyone else. The kind you think you’ll only know once in a lifetime.

Whether you were fake dating James or not, you weren’t going to let that feeling go.

______

You two were the star couple of the party that night, standing in the middle of a celebration for Gryffindor, James holding a cup of liquor in his hand, and you carrying something fruity. He had his arm hooked around your neck, pulling you in close so his lips just barely skimmed over your ear. You smiled, finding the feeling of his skin against your ear and the breaths he was exhaling to be quite ticklish.

Lily was behind you, watching from the corner as she sipped on something nonalcoholic. She was never a drinker, and that just made it all the more infuriating for her to see you two dancing so intimately while she was stone-cold sober.

“I reckon she’s getting close to her breaking point, doll. You’ll be getting a shitload of candy once she approaches me about this entire thing,” he whispered and you laughed, nodding your head in agreement. Dating James wasn’t actually that bad. The only downside was that Remus wasn’t spending nearly as much time with you as before. Probably because you had to spend most of the day following James around to keep up the illusion of this whirlwind love affair.

It hurt, not seeing your best friend. You missed his company. He was your favorite person ever, with his pretty eyes and his adorable smile. The way his sandy hair would fall over his eyes was effortlessly beautiful, and his sweaters made him look so intelligent and mature, two qualities you loved in men. James was unfortunately neither of those things. Perhaps that’s what made “dating” him so simple. There were no surprise feelings between you two because the things you each wanted in a significant other were completely different.

You wanted a Remus in your life. Someone so handsome it had you swoon. Someone kind and soft and gentle around the edges. Someone with a sweet tooth and a pretty smile that you could stare at for days without getting bored of it. You loved to talk to him about anything and everything, he just made it all so interesting. You wanted someone who shared your love of books, candy, and peace and quiet. Remus Lupin was all of that and more.

He was just so lovely. You wished he was the one you were dancing with and not James. You wished that it was his lips pressed to your ear, whispering sweet nothings to you instead of these nonsensical plans of making a certain redhead jealous.

He sat on the couch, talking with Peter about something that happened in potions that morning. He looked stunning with his face lit up by the flames in the fireplace. If only you could walk over there and take a picture, keep it forever, look at it whenever you were feeling down.

He glanced up at you every now and again, just checking. He never looked for very long though, turning his head down with a grimace on his face each time. Remus couldn’t stand the sight of you so intimate with someone else, even if he knew it was all fake.

But how was he supposed to know if you’d accidentally grown feelings for his friend over the course a few weeks. You’d gotten much closer, hugging and kissing on the cheeks and forehead quite often. You laughed when James told jokes no matter how stupid they were. You attended his quidditch matches, which you hated doing before this entire mess.

Remus was afraid you changed your mind somehow. That you now thought James Potter was someone you could see yourself dating for real.

He couldn’t handle the thought, feeling himself beginning to crumble. He tried to maintain the conversation with Peter, only to feel himself zoning out, eyes trailing over to you helplessly every time.

You wrapped your arms around James’ neck, dancing slowly at the song that played over the record player. “Are you okay with me kissing you?” He asked, “I think it’ll be the nail in the coffin to finish all of this.”

You pulled back a little, your face draining of its color. Did you want to kiss James? Not particularly. Did you really care? It was hard to say. You wanted to be kissing someone else, a certain boy on the couch, but that was out of the question. You and James were just friends, two actors trying to woo the girl he so desperately wanted. It was like acting in a school play. It was just pretend. Harmless, really. James had kissed tons of other girls before you. It was normal for him.

You always kind of imagined this sort of situation with Remus. It stung a little to know that you would sooner have the chance to kiss James Potter as opposed to your actual crush.

You peered over your shoulder for a second to see Lily looking absolutely taken with James, and then turned back to the boy in front of you. It was a tough decision, but you ended up nodding your head. “It’s okay. Nothing too dramatic, yeah?”

And with that, your quidditch playing, Lily-obsessed friend kissed you right in the middle of the bustling party. You lips pressed together and you shut your eyes so you didn’t have to look at him. He ran his hand down your cheek and over your jaw for a moment as he leaned in closer, really trying to make it look authentic.

Thankfully, it was short lived because soon enough, someone else had grabbed your arm firmly and tugged you out of James’ clutches. You turned around to be met with a sweater vest clad boy glaring down at the two of you with an unimaginable amount of frustration in his expression. His entire face from cheeks to the ears was red, and his lips were downturned into a frown.

“Rem-” you started, but he interrupted you.

“That’s enough,” he muttered, and you could clearly hear the hurt in his voice. James tried to make it better, claiming that it was all for show, that he should calm down a bit, but Remus wasn’t having any of it. “I think your little fake relationship thing has run its course, don’t you think?”

“What’s wrong, Remus?” you questioned, peering up at him with those bright e/c eyes he had come to adore, and had missed over the past few weeks. “James, you stay here. Remus, let’s head to the dorms,” you suggested, motioning with your free hand to the stairwell leading up to the boys’ room. You certainly didn’t want to cause a scene.

James nodded, brows raised when he looked at Remus, a small smirk on his face. You didn’t know what he meant by that expression, but Remus sure did, and he was regretting the day he ever confessed to the boys that he fancied you. He wondered if James had an ulterior motive by fake dating you; if he did it to make Remus jealous, because if that were the case, he most definitely succeeded.

As you led him to the staircase, you noticed over your shoulder that poor Lily was walking over to James, her head ducked down shyly as she approached. James, as confident as ever, flashed a sparkly white grin and started a conversation as if it were the most easy thing in the world.

Remus followed you up the stairs and into his room, which was empty considering everyone was downstairs partying the night away. You shut the door behind him, finally letting go of his arm so you could cross yours over your chest. He was tall, and you had to look up to meet his eyes, but he was never intimidating to you. Not even when he was angry like today. He was too gentle to yell at you, much less hurt you in any way.

“Mind telling me what’s got you so upset?” You tapped your toes on the floor, the soft clicking noise ringing out in the quiet room, music from outside muffled by the heavy door.

You didn’t notice the water that was beginning to gather in the corners of his eyes.

He thought for a moment, before a whisper fell from his lips, and you almost didn’t catch it.

“Why did you have to kiss him?” he asked weakly, his voice suddenly a lot softer now that you were alone. A lot sadder, too. “Why did you have to kiss him right there in front of me?” he repeated, squeezing his eyes shut and he pressed the palms of his hands to cover them. He felt heartbroken. Absolutely crushed that you had kissed his best friend, that he had to watch as you did so. It was so casual, like it didn’t even matter to you, but it mattered the world to Remus.

He felt he might cry. Tears bubbled up in the corners of his eyes and he tried his hardest to keep them from dripping down his cheeks. No matter how hard he tried, he found himself crying anyway.

You were crestfallen when you noticed the tears running down his cheeks, a gasp coming from your lips. He was crying, and it was because of you. You had done this to him, your best friend, the guy that you supposedly had a crush on for nearly 4 years straight now. You’d never made someone cry; it broke your heart.

You rushed up to him, bringing your hands up to move his, letting them sink to his sides. Softly, with the pads of your thumbs, you wiped away the salty tears running down his cheeks. He didn’t even shy away from your touch, he just let you wipe them away silently, not daring to look you in the eyes. His eyes were stuck to the ceiling, trying to blink away what he was feeling. You being so nice to him only made things worse. He felt like an ass. You could do whatever you wanted. If you wanted to kiss James, so be it. He had no right to be upset when you weren’t his.

“Remus, sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

It was silent for a moment as he thought of what he wanted to say, as you stared up into his teary eyes with concern etched across your face. It was getting harder and harder to pretend everyday that he wasn’t bothered by your presence when you weren’t in his arms, when he couldn’t freely touch you and love you, and kiss you silly until you were laughing with glee. It took so much effort to suffocate all those feelings down. He didn’t think he could fuck things up anymore, so he said the only thing he had on his mind.

“I love you.”

You were at a loss for words. He loved you? You felt your heart beat faster in your chest at his words, and you shook your head, clearly having misheard him. There was no way that Remus Lupin loved you. Not in the way you thought he meant. Surely, he would have said something by now. Surely you would have caught onto what he was feeling this entire time. “What?”

“Don’t make me say it again, Y/N. I’m already pathetic as it is,” he muttered, his eyes now drawn down to the red carpet below their feet.

“Remus Lupin loves me,” you whispered mostly to yourself, “You love me?”

He chuckled bitterly, “As catastrophic as it is, yes, with all my heart, Y/N. Since the very moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I-I would have never kissed James if I knew-”

“Why would I tell you and fuck everything up?”

“Fuck everything up? Remus, I just wasted my first kiss on James Fleamont Potter when I could have been kissing you!”

“What?” Now it was his turn to be confused. He looked up to you finally, his eyes still glassy from crying, lips just agape with surprise.

You shook your head and laughed. “I’m in love with you! It’s always been you.” Your arms wrapped around his middle, hugging him to your chest and laughing into his sweater. He immediately took notice of your warmth radiating through his clothes, bringing him back to the real world. You loved him. You, the girl of his dreams, were hugging him and confessing your love to him. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you closer to his body, cradling you like a precious artifact in his possession. He never wanted to let you go again.

He sighed, resting his chin on the top of your head. “You have no idea how hard it was keeping my cool around you all this time. When I saw you snuggled up to James, I wanted to kill him. He knew better than to make me jealous.”

“James knew how you felt about me?”

“Sirius, James, and Peter all knew.”

“And none of them thought to enlighten me? The betrayal.”

You inhaled the scent of his sweater, chocolate bars and mint coming in like waves. He was everything that you loved in the world all condensed into a single perfect person. He fit in your arms like a puzzle piece.

“Guess you’ve got to break up with James now,” he mumbled into her hair, stroking the back of your head, “Because I’m never letting you go ever again.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin one shot #harry potter x reader #harry potter #remus lupin #marauders era #remus lupin fanfic #fake dating #harry potter fanfic #james potter x reader #marauders x reader #hp fanfic #fem!reader

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st4rrth0ughts · 2 months

Text

Ok I know I said I’m taking a break but I’m going to just dump this idea and expand on it soon, warnings below

Reader is aven’s bodyguard, mentions of dead body, death, a bit of a word vomit, and a sfw brainrot (I know, shocking, Im writing on the train anyways) probably ooc aven? Prodding at the hsr 2.1 leaks (if ykyk), I’m not in my computer so no more yellow text T-T

Aventurine peeking into your dreams through that phone in the Penacony dreamscape, only to see you, his precious bodyguard, always so stoic and unemotional, breathing hard, in the ‘real’ dreamscape, desperately yelling his name.

but the feelings of happiness, the feeling that he was important to someone, goes away the moment he sees you mortified, staring at his dead body. He wants to just jump into the dream, hold you and tell you it’s alright, seeing the look of panic, desperation and pure agony in your eyes makes his heart shatter. He would never make you cry, and he certainly wouldn’t want to in your own dream, where it’s supposed to be relaxing.

nothing much he can do about it when he stares at the dream playing out in shock, when your begging, begging for him to wake up, praying to the Amber Lord himself that this dammed nightmare would end soon, and that you would see him alive and well again.

Aventurine has never known how to receive from anyone. All his life, it was him giving, since childhood to his current age as Senior Manager of the IPC. The fact you, on a daily basis, already sacrifice so much for him, your time, freedom, even your own safety, bearing cuts, wounds while Aventurine remains perfectly unharmed was a foreign concept he still struggles to comprehend.

the fact that in a dream state, where your supposed to be happy, thinking about something else, no, even in your dream, it revolves around him. As much as he wanted to be smug and shit and be proud he was the main priority in your life, seeing you quietly sob as you hold the dead body of his doesn’t sit right with him. Never in 700 years. (See what I did there)

the dream ends, and the caller cuts off the call before he can even say anything. He walks aimlessly through Penacony, the dream replaying in his mind.

You crying. You holding him close. Of course, close contact wasn’t exactly unheard of between you two, you always did keep a eye on him, mostly during gambling sessions because of jealous competittors, he can’t count the number of times you pounced on someone for trying to attack him, but to be still cannot wrap his head around the fact that he was so important to you that he was quite literally on your mind even unconscious.

He hears footsteps, and your just right behind him. He always questions and teases you about how fast you can clear up your appearance after it gets disheveled, but he doesn’t say anything as he stares at your slightly trembling hands.

“Apologies for being late, sir. I was caught up in the dreamscape.”

Stop apologising, he wants to yell. You just had one of the most horrific nightmares in your life and your apologising for being late?! He grabs you and pulls you close. Sometimes he wishes he was taller so he could bury you in his chest and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, but feeling your chest in his face isn’t that bad either.

“I’m staying here. I won’t leave you, never did and never will.”

You run your hands through his hair. It’s not just the nightmare, it was the fact you were trying to find him, and overheard his plan to be a sacrifice to reveal The Family’s secrets to the universe. But you can’t tell him that for now, he’ll be sure to make changes so that you can’t interfere and be a self sacrificing idiot (as he puts it).

So you simply nod, thank the Amber Lord that you have those sunglasses that hide your bloodshot eyes as you let yourself be consumed by his lie of forever.

“Likewise, sir.”

#dom male reader #dom reader #dom gn reader #sub character #sub honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #star rail aventurine #sub aventurine #hsr leaks #hsr spoilers #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader

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straylightdream · 5 months

Text

rose-colored boy

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: bang chan x reader

↳ Life never goes as planned, when you were younger you always imagined as reaches your mid twenties you would be married with kids. Instead you’re stuck at home helping take care of your sick grandmother and still desperately searching for her fathers approval. The only thing in your life that makes you feel normal is Chan.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non idol au, romance, angst, smut

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit sex, anxiety, and mentions of depression, crying and lots of emotions.

𝐚𝐧: I’m reworking a story I posted in 2020 here. This story is a one shot right now, but if there is enough interest I might write a part two.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲

The sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach is an all too familiar feeling that you’re a disappointment. Inhaling a deep breath you're listening to your father gush about your brother and his new wife. Your younger brother sports a proud smile listening to your father. This family dinner was exactly like all the other ones you have shared.

“Y/N have you considered going back to school?” Your father asks, pointing his attention back at you.

Closing your eyes you take a deep breath attempting not to roll your eyes at your father. He’s aware that you don’t have time to go back to school. He chooses to ignore the fact that your grandmother's condition is getting worse and your mother needs all the help she can get. Your father tends to live in his own world ignoring the problems you and your mother and his ex wife face. He stopped caring long before he left your mother, so it’s not like this is anything new.

Looking at your brother you give him a pleading look. You wished he would recognize your silent begging for help.

“I would love too, but mom needs my help with grandma,” you try your hardest to keep your tone even. You don’t need your father or your stepmother Hae-Won commenting about your bitchy attitude.

“Your mother needs to put her in a home and move on,” your father’s cold tone stings. He’s always been a more distant man, but at one point he did actually love your mother and her family.

“Mom needs Y/N,” your brother finally speaks up defending you.

“Darling, listen to your son,” Hae-Won rested her hand on your father's arms. Your stepmother tends to be the voice of reason when it comes to your father. Hae-Won is a kind woman and she always attempts to treat you with kindness.

Dinner continues with a blur. Your father has switched his attention back to your brother and his career. Standing up, walking outside desperately needing fresh air and escape from constant judgment. Your brother walks outside with his car keys in his hand.

“Sorry that was so rough,” he finally speaks.

Shoving your hands in your jeans pockets you try to act like you aren’t fazed by their constant judgment.

“Joshua, that was like every single dinner we have,” looking down at your feet you sigh.

“YN, I’m sorry I’m not there for mom,” he reaches his hand out resting it on your shoulder.

“You’re married now, Rosie needs you.”

Your brother being married had nothing to do with him not helping mom. The moment Joshua went to university he found his escape from the life you were now trapped in. If it wasn’t for you your mother would lose her mind. Your grandmother's Alzheimer's started getting bad while you were in high school, and proceeded to get worse while you were in your first year of university. Your mother’s mental breakdown during the summer after your first year pushed you to drop out to help out at home.

“Did you need a ride home?” your brother asks.

Silently you nod.

The ride was filled with awkward conversation. You and your brother used to be close. When he was at home you used to be best friends. He quickly found a life away from you and your mother. You can’t blame him though. If you were given the chance to run away from all this you in a heartbeat. You dreamed of a life away from yours. You want a life when you don't struggle to get by. You want a life that doesn't feel completely trapped. You desperately want to go back to school and get your degree, but it’s just not an option.

Pulling into the drive of your family home Joshua puts the car in park, but doesn’t turn it off. You want to ask if he’s gonna go inside to see mom, but you know the answer.

“You should come over to have dinner with Rosie and I.” He’s always trying to get you to be closer with his wife.

“Okay,” you say, getting out of the car. Glancing back at your brother while shutting the door you see him wearing a sad smile. You wished things between you and your brother weren’t so strained.

Walking inside you find your mother sitting in the living room talking to your grandmother.

“Hi,” you stop and wave at them.

“Are you my granddaughter?” Your grandmother asks, looking at you.

Your stomach drops and you put on your best fake smile you can possibly muster and nod your head. It never gets any easier. The feeling of her not remembering you feels like a dagger slowly being pushed into your chest. You think back constantly to the days where your grandmother was your favorite person. Back to the days when your parents would fight and your grandmother would come and pick you up and take you out to get ice cream. All the sweet memories you used to share have slowly started drifting away. You can’t help but feel mad that you’re watching one of the people you love most in the world drift away. You’re not nearly as patient with her as you’ve been in the past. You curse yourself each time you give the slightest attitude answering the same question for the hundredth time. It’s hard to explain the way you feel. In the earlier stages when you first dropped out of school you used to sit for hours with your mother keeping her company as she watched her mother, but as the more time has passed its grown more difficult to sit there. These days your grandmother could barely maintain a conversation, and most of her questions were about sore subjects. She often asks your mother where her husband is. Or asked if you were married. Your dating life in itself was a touchy subject. You had zero desire to bring someone into your life. You were trapped enough that nobody deserved to be dragged into this life.

“How was dinner?” Your mother asked, standing up.

“Fine,” you lied, turning on your heels and heading down the hallway towards your room.

Shutting the door press your back against the door and let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Reaching into your pocket you pulled out your phone to see a text from Felix. It simply read “come over to mine and Jisung’s for drinks at eight.”

Looking at the clock on your nightstand you saw it was already eight thirty. You already had a rough night. You should probably take a hot shower and call it a night. Holding your phone up you stared at his text for a solid moment before you simply responded, “be there soon.”

Opening your door walking back into the living room you find your grandma sitting alone. Walking into the small kitchen you find your mom pouring herself a large glass of wine.

“Did you need my help tonight?” You prayed she would say no. You needed a night with your friends especially after your dinner with your dad.

“Where are you going?”

“Felix invited me over for drinks,” you give her a small smile.

“I’m assuming your father was in one of his moods,” she brings the red wine up her lips and takes a big gulp.

“I’m nothing more than disappointment, especially when I’m next to the shining star known as Joshua,” you sound bitter, but you can’t help it. You would be lying to yourself if you said you aren’t jealous of your younger brother.

“You’re not a disappointment,” your mother states.

“Dad thinks I am,” you don’t want to talk about it anymore. This subject just makes you feel even worse.

“Your father's opinion doesn’t matter.” You wish that was true, but for some reason your father’s opinion felt like everything to you. You’ve lived your whole life wanting nothing more than your father's approval.

“Go have fun with your friends.”

Stepping outside you're greeted by the cold autumn air. You choose to walk to the boys place. It’s only a ten minute walk, and you know the walk will give you time to clear your head. You need this time to push away the feeling of disappointment and sadness.

Walking up to the door you knock and step back. It takes all of thirty seconds before Jisung opens the door and pulls you inside. Looking around. In the apartment you see a small group of friends. It’s Felix, Jisung and their six guy friends and three girls. You recognize the blonde girl Soomin as the girl Seungmin has been trying to hook up with.

“Drinks are in the kitchen,” Jisung says.

Nodding you walk into the kitchen. In the small white kitchen you find Chan talking to Felix. Felix wastes no time reaching forward pulling you into a hug.

Pulling away, Felix holds your shoulders and looks at you with his eyebrows knit together. “Why are you so tense?”

“I had dinner with my father and Joshua.”

“Is your father still acting the same?” Felix is one of the few people who know your whole situation with your family. Not even Jisung, who you’re just as close to, knows about your whole family situation.

“Yeah,” you sigh, glancing over at Chan who looks at you like he’s studying you.

“Did you want something to drink?” Chan asked.

Felix removes his hands from you. He smiles over at Chan and says, “make the girl something strong she really needs it.”

Felix walks out of the room leaving you alone with Chan. Things with Chan have always been easy. He’s someone who is kind and easy to make conversation with. You’ve grown closer to him over the last couple months. He’s an old high school friend of Felix. Out of all your friends he seems to by far have his life the most together. He works at a bank in a high up position and even has his own apartment. You’ve watched enough women at bars attempt to capture his attention, but the thing about Chan is he doesn’t seem to want theirs. He’s always seemed so driven by work you’ve never even heard of him dating anyone.

Handing you a red cup he captures your attention, “it’s pretty strong.”

“Is everything okay?”

You take a sip of the strong drink and look up at him with hooded eyes. Shrugging your shoulders you aren’t even sure how to respond to that question. Technically everything is okay, nothing has changed. You feel the exact same way you’ve always felt. You’re just doing a terrible job at hiding it. Normally you pride yourself on trying to hide away all your problems that seem to be eating away at you.

“Rough day,” you sigh.

He leans back against the counter and looks at you. You can’t help but let your eyes travel across his body. Chan is very handsome and you aren’t really sure why some girl hasn’t been able to lock him down. He stands there oh so casually dressed jeans and button up shirt.

“You know you can talk to me right? I know Felix is the only one you fully let in, but I like to think we’re friends too. If you need someone to vent to, I'm here to listen.”

“I don’t need to burden someone else with all my problems.”

Chan is one of the kindest and most caring people that you’ve ever met. He’s always been like the father figure of your group of friends. You’ve seen your friends pull him aside to talk to him when they’re having problems. He’s being honest with you when he tells you he’s there to listen to you. He won't judge you for whatever you’re going through.

“You know you aren’t a burden to anyone right? You’re friends with me and all the boys. We’re all here to support you. We just want to help.”

You wished it was that easy that you could just talk about your problems and it would help them go away. You could scream from the rooftop that you’re tired of feeling like a disappointment, but it wouldn’t make the feeling go away. You could scream that you’re tired of being trapped in a life that you didn’t choose, but at the

end of the day you’ll still have to go home. Your mother is still in desperate need of your help. You couldn’t just walk away from your family, like your brother did. You know your brother didn’t leave to hurt you, but it didn’t dull the pain anymore.

“I’m okay Chan. Thank you for your offer though.”

“Come sit on the patio with me,” he says.

You aren’t sure why he wants you to go outside with him, but nod your head and follow him. He slides the glass door open that’s connected to the kitchen. You step outside and he closes the door behind you. The chilly night air feels nice against your skin as you take a seat in one of the two chairs that are sitting in front of a glass table. Chan sits next to you, placing his cup on the table. You look at the cup curious to know what he’s drinking. It’s rare that you ever see him drink. He’s the one who is always the designated driver or the one in charge of looking after your friends who tend to get a little too rambunctious when they drink.

“What are you drinking?” You ask.

“Water,” he lets out a soft chuckle. You can’t help but shake your head. It was rare you ever saw him eat or drink something that isn’t healthy.

“Did you have work today?” You attempt to make small talk with him to avoid talking about things that are too personal.

“Yeah I worked until five.”

Chan was one of the higher ups at a bank in the city. He tended to wear a suit for a living and work nine to five. He probably had his life the most together out of all your friends he followed the path he always planned on following. Your friends all had their lives together, but they all still liked to party and let loose. Sure Minho and Hyunjin were making good money working as dancers but their job wasn’t always super steady. Felix and Jeongin both worked for a tech company that just started up. Seungmin is a teacher. Jisung also worked as a publisher, and Changbin was working as sound technician at a record label. Literally all your friends have their lives more together than you. You dropped out of college to help at home, and you work a retail job barely getting by.

“Did you work today?” He asks.

You shake your head, “no I had to ask for the day off to see my dad.” You tense up just mentioning your dad. You don’t mean to, it’s just a force of habit.

“You didn’t want to come over tonight did you?” He asks as he brings his cup up to his lips. He takes a drink and watches you.

You weren’t sure if you should answer him honestly. Part of you wanted to stay home and take a shower and just attempt to push away the negative thoughts that seem to be eating away at you. You only came over to escape the trapped feeling of being at home.

“I need to get out of my house,” a heavy sigh passes your lips.

“Are you okay?” He reaches over and rests his warm hand on top of yours. There’s something comforting about his touch.

An almost sarcastic laugh passes your lips, “my grandma didn’t know who I was when I came home today.”

His eyes grow wide as he stares at you. He purses his lips together as he stares at you attempting to figure out what he should say to you. He knows that he can’t say sorry to hear that. He knows nobody fully understands what you’re going through. He only knows about your grandma because Felix told him one day. Felix was worried about you because he hadn’t heard from you in two days. In a panic Felix let him know about the stress you were under at home. Felix swore him to secrecy telling him that you couldn’t know that he knows. That you didn’t want everyone knowing about your problems.

“I know you’re probably tired of hearing this, but I’m really sorry you have to go through that. That must be heartbreaking to experience,” his hand remains on yours as his dark eyes stay on you.

Closing your eyes you push back your tears that are trying so hard to fall. You’ve had a rough day and you don’t want to cry, but the overwhelming weight of the world seems to be resting on your shoulders.

“It fucking sucks,” you shake your head.

“Well my offer still stands if you ever need to talk about it. I'm here for you. You also know that Felix and Jisung would go to the ends of the world for you.”

Felix constantly told you that he was there for you. You couldn’t even count the number of times Felix came over to your house and just laid in bed with you listening to you cry about your problems. Felix is your rock. He’s been there through hell and back holding your hand. Jisung would also be there for you if you would fully let him in. He knows details of your problems, but he’s not the one you call when you’re crying.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You need to know if he’s doing this just because he is pitying you.

“Because you’re a good person, and you don’t need to feel alone,” his thumb brushes across your skin in a calming motion.

“I don’t feel alone. I have Felix,” it was a lie. You felt lonely all the time. You couldn’t seem to fill the empty hole in your chest.

“You can have more people than just Felix that care about you. All seven of those guys in the house care about you. I even care about you. I can see that you’re hurting, and you can put on a fake smile and try to act happy in front of all of us, but you don’t have to. You’re allowed to be sad, and if someone or something is hurting you, you don’t have to turn off those emotions,” his voice is so calming as he speaks to you. He’s saying things to you that you’ve been needing to hear for a long time. Some of the things he’s saying Felix has said to you as well, but for some reason they just feel different coming from Chan.

“I don’t want to be fake happy anymore.” You wanted nothing more in the world to feel real happiness. You wanted that feeling of being a disappointment to fade away.

“Let more people in then.”

The air between you feels thick as you stare at each other. There’s something between you and you can’t seem to put your finger on it.

“What happens if I let you in?” You take a deep breath keeping your eyes locked on him.

“Then I’ll be there for you. I can be there for you just like Felix.”

“You’ll get tired of hearing about my problems.” You knew Felix was probably tired of listening to you cry.

“Believe me I won’t.”

Looking away from his intense gaze, you need to step away from this. This all feels too overwhelming. Chan removes his hand from the top of yours, noticing your change in demeanor.

“I need some water,” you quickly stand up.

He walks over and opens the sliding door holding it open for you. You walk inside heading straight to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. He stands in the kitchen watching you.

“I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you,” he walks closer to you.

“I had a weird day. This isn’t because of you,” you don’t want him to know that you were freaking over letting your walls down around him.

You stand there alone for a long moment. Seungmin walks in letting his presence be known singing a random song loudly. Your eyes snap over to your loud friend hoping he will relieve some of the tension that has formed between you and Chan.

Seungmin’s eyes bounce between the two of you, stopping right by both of you. “YN you’re so tense when was the last time you got laid?” Seungmin speaks, putting his hand on your shoulders and shaking you. Seungmin has never been the best at using the filter between his brain and his mouth. Your cheek burn with embarrassment as your eyes bounce between Seungmin and Chan. Chan is wearing an apologetic look while Seungmin looks all too proud that he’s embarrassed you.

“Seungmin you don’t get to ask me that,” you practically shout, feeling utterly embarrassed. You didn’t want to discuss your sex life with Seungmin of all people. He’s got by far the biggest mouth out of all your friends.

“It’s been awhile if you won’t answer,” he barks out a laugh and looks toward Chan who is blushing. “Chan you also look super tense. When was the last time you got laid?” Seungmin has realized that he can make both of you feel incredibly awkward with zero effort. One of Seungmin 's favorite pastimes is embarrassing his friends.

“Seungmin, knock it off,” Chan responded, completely deadpan.

“Maybe you two should have sex and you can both relax for once,” Seungmin smiles, stepping away from you.

“Well that was beyond awkward,” you respond.

“I mean maybe you two should bang. Maybe both of you could actually have fun for once,” was the last thing he said before walking out of the kitchen.

You’re left standing there with just Chan who seems to be having an issue with making eye contact with you. Pushing your lips together you look at him attempting to even figure out what exactly you should say. Seungmin wasn’t wrong about you probably need to have sex. You’d been so stressed you couldn’t even remember the last time you were intimate with someone. Hell the last time you kissed someone was Felix during a drunken game of truth or dare on his birthday. During that drunken mess of a night you were dared to either kiss him or Seungmin and Felix was the safe bet being your best friend.

Chan nervously scratches his neck and looks up at you finally.

“I take it’s been a while for you too?” He finally speaks.

Talking about sex has always made you feel slightly awkward. You’ve never been a person who would openly share details of your sex life.

“Yeah probably too long,” sighing as you lean against the counter across from Chan.

“If it makes you feel any better I’m in the same boat. It’s been a while.”

You aren’t sure what possessive you to say it but without thinking you say, “maybe Seungmin right, maybe I do need to have sex. I’ve been so stressed with everything.”

Chan cocks his eyebrow and stares at you looking caught off guard. He audibly swallows, not expecting you to agree with his younger friend. In the whole time he’s known you, Chan doesn’t think he’s ever heard you mention anything to do with sex. You had this air of innocence to you. He was well aware you weren’t a virgin, he’s heard you talk about your ex who strung you along off and on for six years. There was just something so innocent about you that the topic of sex made you blush and feel awkward.

“Who would you sleep with?” he’s not sure why he asks. He knows damn well it’s none of his business. He knows no matter who you say he’s not going to like the answer. He doesn’t like the idea of you sleeping with anyone.

Shrugging your shoulder you realize you don’t exactly have men lining up the block to have sex with you. You could try those dating apps people use to hook up, or maybe a friend. You trusted all the boys but you knew certain ones would complicate your life. Felix specifically was off limits, he’s your best friend and you couldn’t do anything to ruin that. Changbin crosses your mind for a small moment. He’s extremely handsome and charming and has even flirted with you before.

“I don’t know,” you finally respond.

As Chan watches you can tell you seem to have a million things going through your mind. He wants to offer up his services but he’s not exactly sure how you would take his offer. He couldn’t lie to himself, he's always been attracted to you, and he’s enjoyed getting to know you. He also appreciates that you seem to be letting your walls down around him.

“If I ask you something can you promise not to slap me?”

You nod not exactly sure what he could possibly ask you.

“Would you be willing to have sex with me?” His heart races as he stares at you trying his hardest to judge your reaction.

You look at him completely dumbfounded. You aren’t even sure if you heard him correctly. Bang Chan is one of the most handsome men you have ever laid eyes on. He’s also got the body of a Greek god, and he just asked if you would be willing to have sex with him. You blink a handful of times attempting to process his question.

“You want to have sex with me?” you blurt out.

He nods and gives you an innocent smile, “yeah.”

“Oh,” you stammer over that simple word. Your mind is still trying to process that Chan actually wants you.

He pushes himself off the counter and looks at you with a guilt ridden face, “you can totally say no. I’m sorry for making this weird.”

He looks cute and completely flustered. Reaching you rest your hand on his arm, “if you’re sure you want to. I would like to relieve some stress with you.”

“Oh,” he opened his mouth and stared at you, completely shocked that you agreed. He didn’t actually have a plan of action if you agreed. He thought for sure you were going to shut him down without even thinking twice.

“Did you want to do it tonight?” You felt so weird asking him if he wanted to leave to have sex. This whole situation was completely uncharted for you.

He nods and gives you an awkward smile, “yeah we can go to my place if you want.”

“Can we please head out now?” You want to leave as soon as you can. You know you should stay and talk to Felix some more, but he seems to be giving you space to talk to Chan.

“Yeah I can drive us.”

“Let me say goodbye to Felix.”

You walk off to the living room where you find your best friend talking to Jeongin. You tap his shoulder and he turns to face you.

“Chan is gonna take me home.” You decide to spare the details that you’re leaving with him to have sex. You know out of all your friends Felix won’t judge you, but he might be concerned about your feelings.

Leaning forward he pulls you into a tight hug and presses his lips to the top of your head before whispering that he’ll see you tomorrow.

You wave goodbye to the rest of the group before meeting Chan at the door. He holds the door open and as soon as it shuts behind him he ever so slowly reaches down, taking your hand in his. A spark goes across your skin as he holds your hand tight. He leads you down to the parking garage below the building and holds your door open as you slide inside. He gets in and starts the car. He turns the radio on to give you some background noise.

You drive in silent with nothing but the hum of the radio for five minutes before you break the silence between you.

You clear your throat catching his attention. He glances over at you and gives you a soft smile.

“So, I’ve never done anything like this. Like I’ve had sex outside of a relationship, but never with a friend,” you’re rambling but you really can’t help it.

“I haven’t either,” he reaches over resting his hand on your thigh.

“So we’re both nervous?” You look over at him trying to read his expression.

“Yeah I’m nervous too.” It’s reassuring to know he feels the same way you do.

Pulling into the parking garage. He shuts the car off and gives you a smile before getting out of the car. You take a deep breath before unbuckling your seatbelt. Hoping out of his car you find home waiting for you with your hand out. You lace your fingers with his without giving it a second thought.

Chan felt like a nervous teenager as he held your hand. This whole situation was something he’s never done before. He has a million thoughts going through his mind as he holds your hand leading you towards his apartment. He has one mission tonight, and that’s to make you forget your problems for a little while. He wants to make you feel good and to relieve all the stress that’s built up.

Entering his apartment he releases your hand as he gives you a minute to look around and take in your surroundings. You’ve only been to his place twice and both times you were with Felix and you weren’t there very long. His apartment is pretty large and has a minimalist aesthetic to it. You’ve heard Chan talk about how much he hates decorating. Stopping in his living room in front of his black leather couch. Chan follows you into the living room. Staring at you, he takes a deep breath. You’ve never done this before. You’ve never agreed to just have casual sex with a friend. You fidget with the bottom of your sweater. You’re not sure who is supposed to make the first move. How exactly was this supposed to work?

“We don’t have to do this,” he says awkwardly. He can’t tell how nervous you are.

“I want this. I haven’t had sex in too long and I feel like it will help relieve some stress.”

He steps closer to you. He hesitates for a moment before pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “It’s been pretty long for me too.”

“You know you have girls always trying to get with you right?” You try not to laugh thinking about all the girls who attempt to flirt with him. You’ve seen too many girls attempt to get his attention when you go out with your friends.

Shrugging he says, “I don’t feel like having sex with random girls.”

You can’t seem to ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach that’s bubbling. Looking up at Chan you notice his cheeks are flushed slightly. He must be as nervous as you. This whole situation is so strange, never in your wildest dreams did you think you would be going over to Chan to have sex with him. The fact that Seungmin dumb comment about you needing to get laid led to you riding over to Chan apartment is crazy.

“How do we even start this?” you felt like an awkward teen about to lose your virginity.

“We could start by kissing,” he steps closer to you.

Nodding your head you agree that kissing would be a good place to start this. Maybe that would help calm your nerves.

He rests his hand on your cheek ever so gently and stares into your eyes. He licks his bottom lip before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. A warm feeling spread through your body as your lips moved together. One of his hands stayed on your cheek while the other gripped your hip holding you close. The whole time your lips moved together you couldn’t help but overthink everything. You were enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours, but you wondered if he was enjoying it too.

With his lips ghosting yours he whispers, “stop over thinking everything.”

Your eyes snap open and you step back from him. You stare at him with your mouth open, unsure of what to even say.

“Stop overthinking everything. Just let go and enjoy yourself. I’m going to make it my mission to force you to relax tonight,” he leans in to press his lips to your jaw. He places a trail of gentle nips across your skin.

“Okay.”

He presses his lips to yours again and you relax against his touch. His hands run up and down your sides as your lips dance. Wrapping your arms around his neck you pull him close to you. Opening your mouth he slides his tongue against yours.

He pulls away wearing a smile. His hands reach for the end of your sweater. He pauses while he waits for your consent. You nod your head silently.

He removes all your clothes leaving you naked in front of him. You stand there watching as he removes his own clothes.

His body is something to be admired. He has probably the best abs you’ve ever seen. Without even thinking you lean forward and run your fingers across his tone stomach. He watches you intently. He wants this whole night to be about helping you find a release. He wants you to enjoy yourself.

Silently he drops to his knees in front of you. His hands run up your thighs. He moves your thighs so he’s sitting between your legs. His eyes are locked on your already wet core. He’s managed to get you worked up with just the idea of what is going to happen and by the heated kiss you shared.

He runs two fingers through your folds as he presses a kiss to the top of your mound. You whimper in anticipation. His thumb brushes your clit for a moment before he moves his fingers to your entrance. He thrust his finger into your tight wall. His tongue laps at your clit as he pumps one finger inside you.

“You’re so tight,” he groans against your core. He dips another finger in you helping stretch you out. He curls his fingers inside you, touching just the right area. You tangle your fingers in his hair. Closing your eyes you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. You’re so close to finding your release.

“Chh… Chan I’m so… close,” you’re a complete whimpering mess.

He picks up his pace knowing you’re so close. He doesn’t stop until you find your release. The warm wave washes over you. You cry out his name loudly. He pulls away sitting on his hunches looking up at you with a proud smile.

“That was amazing,” you say with your chest rising and falling quickly.

He stands up and leans forward to kiss you. You taste yourself on your lips and you can’t lie it turns you on. Your eyes travel down his body to see that he’s already extremely hard and you haven’t even touched him.

“Let me get a condom.”

He jogs off to his bedroom and comes back rolling the rubber down his hardened length. He stops in front of you and leans in for another kiss. You wished that all those months ago you would have dared to kiss him. You can’t believe you’ve gone this far in your life never knowing the feel of Chan’s lips against yours.

“Can you bend over the back of the couch?” He pulls away asking.

You nod and look over at the leather couch. You follow his lead and walk over to the couch. Bending you over the couch he kissed down your spine. His hand grip your hips tightly. You take a deep breath and look over at your shoulder to see his lust filled eyes staring at you.

“Are you ready?” He grinds his hips against yours slowly.

“Yeah.”

He slides his length between your folds before pushing into you extremely slowly. His hands never leave your hips as he pushes his way in. The feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. You grip the back of the couch as a gasp passes your lips. He stills is giving you time to adjust.

His chest is rising and falling as he tries to remain calm. “You’re really tight,'' he says with baited breath.

It’s probably been too long since you had sex and you know you need to relax more. “Spread your legs a little,” he puts his foot next to one of yours and gently nudges it. You silently follow his command. One of his hands leaves your hips and he slowly drags it down your spine. His touch feels like electricity running through your veins.

“Sweetheart just relax,” his voice is low and calming.

Taking a deep breath you try your hardest to relax. Sex is supposed to be fun. You aren’t supposed to stress about the problems in your life while probably the most handsome man you’ll ever meet is literally inside you. You nod your head and rest your face against the cool leather sofa.

His hand slowly rubs your back helping you relax. “Did you want to stop? I’m not going to be upset if you want to walk now or at any time during this.”

Lifting your head you look over your shoulder with a shocked look on your face. “I want this. I’m trying to stop overthinking everything,” you explained.

“Can I move?”

“Yes please.”

He leans forward kissing your shoulder before he pulls his hips back. Be pushed back into you, setting a slow pace. With each thrust he fills you completely. You can’t help the low whimpers that pass your lips with each roll of his hips.

The room is filled with the sounds of skin hitting skin, and his low moans, and your soft whimpers. His hands are back to gripping your hips. Everytime he thrust into you, he pushed away the thoughts of the outside world. You try your hardest to get lost in his touch. His pace picks up slowly. His grip on you never falters. Your name has never sounded as beautiful as it does being moaned by him. Dropping your face into the couch you moan his name.

He leans over your body, having one of his hands at your core. His fingers quickly find your swollen bundle of nerves. He brushes it quickly as he’s helping you chase your release.

“Chan,” you whine.

Wet kisses are being placed across the back of your neck. You can’t hold your eyes open, the feeling of the coil in your stomach tightens, almost becoming too much to handle.

He snaps his hips into yours over and over again. You aren’t exactly sure how long you’ve been pushed up against this couch, but you won’t complain. Nobody has ever made you feel the way Chan is. He seems to know exactly how your body ticks. His fingers don’t leave your clit as he whispers encouraging words into your ear.

“Sweetheart, you can go ahead and cum for me.”

You’ve never wanted to come so badly in your life. Pushing your hips up angling them just right Chan is hitting a new area that causes a loud gasp to pass your lips.

“Chan,” you whimper, reaching back for his hand. You need to hold on to him desperately as you’re so close to finding your release.

“I want to see you when you come, pretty,” he says, stalling in you.

Your eyes grow wide confused on why he’s stopped moving. He pulls out of you and reaches out for you. He picks you up and places you on the couch. Laying there on his couch you watch as he moves so he’s hovering over you. He settles between your legs and pushes into you.

“You’re so pretty. I want to see your pretty face when you cum,” his sweet words.

“Chan,” you whimper.

One hand grips his shoulder while the other tangles in his hair. His nose is resting on yours. His pretty lips are parted and low moans pass his lips.

“Kiss me,” you say. You desperately want to feel his lips on yours. His lips crashed against your. The kiss is sloppy and lust filled but you can’t seem to get enough.

Your legs wrap around his waist holding him close. His thrust have slowed as your lips move together.

“Just let go,” he says with his lips ghosting yours.

His command is all that it takes to push you over the edge. The warmth spreads throughout your body as your walls pull on him. You moan into his lips. Your body feels like a live wire. He rolls his hips into you over and over before finally finding his own release.

He stills with his chest rising and falling. He leans forward pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around his back holding him close as he lays on top of you for a moment. His body weight gives you a sense of comfort. Laying there with Chan in your arms this is the most relaxed you’ve felt in a long time.

He lifts himself up and looks down at you. He pushes away your hair that’s stuck to your face.

“Sorry if I was crushing you.”

A soft laugh passes your lips. He’s so sweet and even post sex he’s still so caring.

“You aren’t crushing me,” you reach up resting your hand on his strong jaw.

He pulls away from you and stands up. You can’t help but watch his naked body walk away to toss his used condom. He comes back to you not even seeming slightly embarrassed that he’s strutting around naked. That probably has to do with his beautiful body, and his amazing abs.

Sitting up you pull your legs into your chest feeling suddenly weird that you're just sitting on the couch completely naked. He sits down on the couch next to you and rests his hand on your knee. He smiles before leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours for a sweet kiss. It was the exact opposit of the last lust fueled kiss you shared.

“You’re so pretty,” he rested his nose against yours.

“Chan, thank you.”

“Did you enjoy it,” you couldn’t believe that he was asking if you just enjoyed the best sex you’ve ever experienced.

You let out a little laugh and nod your head.

“Is it awkward if I ask you to stay the night? I don’t see this as a onel night stand type thing. I would like to spend more time with you.”

He’s a little nervous that you will say no. Chan wants to get to know you even more. He wants you to let your walls down around him. He also just wants your company.

“Are you sure you want me to stay?” You couldn’t believe he was asking you to stay.

“Yeah of course I want you to stay.”

Neither of you bother to put any clothes on. Chan takes your hand and leads you off to his room. His bedroom is somewhere you’ve never seen before. The walls are a bright white and he has a queen size bed under a window that looks out onto the city. He pulls his curtains closed not seeming to care that he’s naked. You crawl onto his bed and pull the blankets back. He lays down next to you and wastes no time pulling you close to his body. Your head rests on his chest as he holds you close. In all your life you had only slept in a man's bed a handful of times. All your ex boyfriends and flames never seemed to hold you like Chan is though.

“Did that help relieve some of your stress?” he asked softly.

“Yeah it did.”

Just being around Chan seems to relax you. This is the first time in the longest time you feel at ease. You aren’t worried about everything going on. You know tomorrow will be a stressful day when your mom asks about where you were overnight, but right now you don’t have to worry about that.

“Thank you for tonight.”

“I told you I want to be here for you, and I’ll be here for you mentally and physically,” his hand rubs your side. “I have tomorrow off. Did you maybe want to get lunch together and hang out?”

You literally spent the whole time you were at Felix’s together and then left with him to have sex. Chan seemed like he couldn’t get enough of you, and you can’t complain. It feels nice to finally be wanted.

“I’ll have to go home and change and check in with my mom, but yeah I’ll get lunch with you.”

A night spent in Chan’s arms is one of the best night's sleep you've gotten in a long time.

Bright morning light shining through the thin curtains woke you up. A yawn passes your lips as you stretch out your sore body. The bed feels cold next to you. You look over to see Chan isn’t in bed. A panicked feeling starts in your chest. Maybe this was a sign that he wanted you to leave. Hoping out of bed quickly you look around the room realizing you walked into his room naked. Looking on the dresser you see a pile of your clothes neatly folded. Chan must have gathered your clothes this morning. Walking towards the dresser you see the master bathroom door is shut with the light peaking out from the bottom. You aren’t sure if Chan is in there but you don’t want to find out. You quickly put your bra and underwear on. As you start pulling on your legging the bathroom door opens and Chan walks out a pair of boxer briefs while he runs a towel through his damp hair. The moment his eyes lock on you, you completely freeze like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Why do you look like you’re running away?” He asks, tossing his towel in the hamper next to the door.

“I thought you would want me to leave,” you say awkwardly.

“Why would I want you to leave?” Chan doesn’t understand what he did or said that could possibly make you think he wanted you to leave.

“I don’t know.”

“I planned on us grabbing lunch. I actually wanted to spend more time with you.” He wasn’t lying to you yesterday when he said he wanted to be there for you.

“Oh,” you’re caught off guard by him actually wanting to spend time with you.

He steps towards you stopping right in front of you. He places his hand right under your chin lifting it so you’re looking into his dark eyes. He licks his bottom lip before saying, “you can relax around me. You don’t have to try to act happy. Let your walls down and try to trust me.” He so desperately wants for you to trust him like you do Felix.

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You aren’t sure of what to say to him. Leaning down he presses his lips softly to your forehead.

“Did you maybe want some coffee before you run away from me?”

You nod your head silently.

Stepping away from you Chan reaches into his dresser and pulls out a pair of jeans and pulls them on. He doesn’t bother putting a shirt on. You take this time to pull back on your sweater so you aren’t standing around in your bra and a pair of leggings. He takes your hand ever so casually and leads you out into the kitchen. You can’t help but smile that he’s already made coffee.

Reaching into the cupboard he pulls out two coffee cups. He sits down on the counter in front of you. He walks over to the fridge pulling out a carton of cream. Handing it to you, you pour a little into your coffee before handing it back.

There is a comfortable silence between the two of you as you sip on your coffee. There’s something about being around Chan that’s comforting.

Holding his cup close to his chest he watches you carefully. You seem more at ease and it makes him happy.

“What do you want for lunch?” he asks.

“How does ramen sound?” you ask, knowing there are a million places near to get good ramen.

“Sounds good to me.”

After finishing your cup of coffee you follow Chan back to his room so he can get dressed. Sitting on his bed you scroll through your phone to see a text from your mom and one from Felix.

Your moms text read, “I’m assuming you stayed at Felix.”

While Felix read, “were you okay after last night?” Your best friend knows you well and could tell that you had a rough day.

You send him a quick message saying that you’re okay that talking to Chan helped a lot.

Chan stood in front of you in a sweater with his tight jeans and pair of vans. He smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Once again he takes your hand leading you out of his apartment.

Standing in front of his motorcycle you’re at a loss for words. You were well aware he owned a motorcycle, but you hadn’t ever ridden on it. He holds his spare helmet out for you sporting a grin.

“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle,” you say.

“Are you okay if we take this?” He’s unsure if this is a good idea. You seem so unsure staring at his motorcycle.

“Okay we can take this,” you reach out to take the helmet. He steps closer to you and helps up on your helmet and buckles it.

He gets on the motorcycle and reaches his hand out signaling for him to join him. Climbing on you wastes no time wrapping your arms around him. He starts the bike and heads out onto the main road. You hold on to him tightly.

There’s something about the way you hold him that makes his heart flutter a little. For the longest he wished he could gain your trust. He couldn’t help but be jealous of your friendship you shared with Felix. Sure you and Chan had always been friends, but you always had a wall up around him. You never fully let anyone in other than Felix.

Pulling up to your house, shut the motorcycle off and you quickly climb off.

“Did you want me to wait here?” Chan asks.

Your stomach twists at the idea of having to explain to your grandma who Chan is.

“Yes please if you don’t mind. My grandmother isn’t great with people she doesn’t know.”

“Okay that’s fine. I’ll be here, take your time,” he takes the helmet you had been wearing.

Rushing into the house you find your mom standing in the kitchen holding a cup of coffee.

“YN are you okay?” She asks, stopping you dead in your tracks.

“Yeah.”

She knits her eyebrows together, studying you, “why are you rushing.”

“My friend is taking me out to lunch,” you say.

“Who?” She’s being nosy like she normally is.

“Chan.”

Her eyebrow raises as she slowly smiles, “the handsome man that works at the bank?”

Of course your mom remembers Chan's job, and that he’s attractive.

“Yes.”

“Well have fun,” she smiles before taking another sip of her coffee.

Rushing off to your room you start stripping away your clothes. You toss your dirty clothes in your hamper before grabbing a pair of jeans and tugging them on. Reaching into your dresser you pull out a black and white sweater. Heading off to the bathroom you brush your teeth and wash your face.

You practically run out of the house attempting to avoid your mom. Walking outside you find Chan leaning against his motorcycle scrolling through his phone.

He looks up and smiles at you. Handing you a helmet you put it on and he helps you buckle it.

Crawling onto the back of the bike you wrap your arms around him holding your body close to his. He starts driving down the street and you suddenly feel so relaxed as you hold him. There’s something about him that is just so comforting to you.

Arriving at one of your favorite ramen places Chan turns off his bike and he helps you off. He takes your hand immediately. Chan knows you’re shy and a little more guarded, but he doesn’t give you a chance to put up a wall. He holds your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the whole world.

Walking up to the table he holds out your chair for you. This suddenly feels like a date and you get a nervous feeling in your stomach. You aren’t sure why you get so nervous at the thought of being on a date with Chan. He’s literally the most perfect man you’ve ever met, and you’ve already had sex with him. Yet you can’t seem to push away this nervous feeling.

“Why do you want to spend time with me?” you ask after ordering.

Tilting his head he knits his eyebrows together, “because I like spending time with you. I know it seems like it’s coming out of left field, but YN I like you.”

You can’t believe he just said he liked you. You blink rapidly and just stare at them. How do you even respond to him?

“You like me?”

A half smile forms on his lips, “you’re a beautiful girl, you’re kind, and you have an amazing heart.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not asking you to suddenly be my girlfriend. I want to spend time with you, I want to be your friend. I want to be someone you feel like you can trust enough to talk to about the things you’re going through,” reaching out he takes your hand in his. He rubs his thumb across the palm of your hand. His touch instantly relaxed you.

“Chan, I'm a mess. I’m not easy to be with. I feel bad Felix has to deal with me half the time.”

He squeezes your hand gently, “stop, I’m not asking you to give me anything here. I’ll just be your friend if anything, but I want you to know how I feel.”

Before you can say anything the waiter walks over and puts your bowls of ramen on the table in front of you.

Staring at the steaming bowl of soup you’re still trying to process everything Chan just said to you.

“Please say something,” he says.

“I want to get to know you more. I also want to spend more time with you.”

A large smile spreads across his face as he grabs a pair of chopsticks.

He spends the rest of lunch answering questions about himself. In the last twenty-four hours you’ve talked about yourself enough. You want to know more about the man who seems extremely interested in spending more time with you.

When the waiter brings over the check Chan hands him this card without even looking at the check. You tell him thank you. You didn’t expect him to pay for you.

Arriving at your house you hop off the bike, and before you can walk away Chan reaches out and grabs your wrist. He turns you so you're facing him. He raises his eyebrow and tugs you closer to him.

“I’m serious about wanting to spend time with you,” he knows he is putting himself on the line right now, but he knows he needs to. “Please give me a shot here. Let me be there for you.”

“Okay,” you say softly.

He leans in close to you and presses his lips to your cheek for a soft kiss. You can help but smile as he pulls away.

“I’ll text you.”

He rides off and you’re left with your head feeling as if it’s swimming. The overwhelming feeling that he’s interested in you makes your head spin. You aren’t sure why anyone as perfect as him could be interested in you.

Everything’s a blur as you walk into your room you lay down staring at the ceiling. Chan sweet words play over and over in your ears. Closing your eyes you could picture his soft smile.

You aren’t sure how long you were laying there when your door opened. Looking at the door you find Felix standing in your room.

Throwing himself onto your queen size bed you can’t help but smile at Felix. His eyes are narrowed in on you.

“So what’s going on with Chan?” He didn’t bother asking anything else. He just jumped straight to the point.

Glancing at him from the corners of your eyes you find him staring at you.

“Nothing,” you lied. There was clearing something going on with Chan, but you just weren’t exactly sure.

“Then why didn’t you come home last night?” He smirks at you. It’s extremely clear he knows you were with Chan.

“Lee Felix, what do you know?” Sitting up quickly you grab a pillow holding it on your lap.

“Well your mother asked me when I walked in how our sleepover was. Like we’re teenagers again.”

Your eyes grow wide at the fact your mother asked Felix about you staying over.

“Please tell me you lied to her.”

He reaches up grabbing the pillow from your lap, “of course I lied.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you stay at Chan last night?”

Biting your lip you contemplate lying. You don’t want him asking details about what happened, but you can’t lie to him.

“Yeah I stayed with him.”

“What happened there?” he sits up.

“Lix,” a heavy sigh passes your lips. You know you can’t hide the details from him anymore.

“Just tell me. I’m not gonna judge you,” he’s sitting on your bed with his legs crossed.

“We had sex,” you sigh.

“I knew it,” he almost shouts.

Shaking your head you try to push away your embarrassment. You never shared anything about your sex life.

“How did that even happen?” Felix knew that you were friends, but he didn’t know that you were nearly close enough with Chan to have sex with him.

“We spent the whole night just talking and stupid Seungmin made comments about us needing to get laid and somehow it got us having sex to relieve some stress,” you ramble on quickly.

He stares at you blinking and processes your statement. A smile tugs on his lips. Felix knows that Chan is a good guy and he won’t do anything to hurt you.

“Please say something,” you say softly, pulling your legs into your chest.

“I think you should give Chan a chance. He’s not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m a mess,” your eyes start to tear up.

“Give him a chance,” he puts his hand on your knee and looks into your eyes.

“I’ll try,” you say softly.

You spend the rest of the afternoon laying on your bed with your best friend. You move away from the subject of Chan which you’re thankful for. Eventually Felix convinces you to watch a movie with him. Your mom peaks her head asking Felix to stay for dinner. Your mother has loved Felix from the moment you met. Anytime Felix comes over to your mom to ask him to stay for dinner. Your grandmother also seems to love him. Even though she can’t always remember his name. She does remember she loves him. He always sits on the couch and will talk to her and tell her cute jokes. There’s a reason you’ve let your walls down around Felix. He’s just always seemed to be there by your side. You hope soon you can let your walls down around Chan as well.

Regarding taglist:

If you aren’t interacting with my writing outside of liking the new post I’m gonna have to remove your name from the taglist. You will also be removed if I try to tag you and your blog is listed as "invisible". If you've changed your URL and didn't let me know I will also be removing your name. I’m sorry for the inconvenience but my interactions outside or likes feels like it’s nonexistent right now. All of my taglist are still open though. If you request to be added to one via this form, I kindly ask for interactions in the form and feedback and reblogs. To be quite honest, those really encourage my writing.

#stray kids #my writing #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan #skz #bang chan x reader #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfic #bang chan imagine #rose colored boy #bang chan angst

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prettyflyforawhitelie · 2 months

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I wanted to request something for Husk, if that's alright! Their rooms are next to each other, and Husk just so happens to hear her cry. Reader is not being loud, she just couldn't hold back a particularly strong sob and he heard her. He keeps listening and now that he is paying close attention, he can hear soft sobbing. He goes to check in on her and she apologizes for waking him up, but is too shy to admit she was crying right away. I would love to see some fluff/comfort! Thank you <3

This is adorable! I love love love writing fluff. Thanks for the request! This turned out a bit angstier than I planned, but I think it balances out nicely with the fluff. If you want one that's just purely fluff, please message me and I will be happy to rewrite/write another! I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Husk x Reader

Warnings: Violence, Weapons, Drink Spiking, Alcohol

Word Count: 1809

“This Night has Opened my Eyes” - Husk x Reader

Today had been a long day. And that’s the understatement of the year. This was the day that you and the other residents of the hotel had been planning on for months… the war against the angels. You had prepped weapons, defense, and plans all of yesterday, but nothing could have stopped the inevitable bloodshed that accompanied war. Angels were cruel, fierce beings that didn't care about the lives of sinners so long as they increased their “kill count.” They hunt sinners for sport, and nothing, not even the princess of Hell, was going to stand in their way.

This was evident when Adam and the angels mercilessly broke through the forcefield that Alastor had cast around the hotel. Fuck. That was you and your friends’ only shot at winning this battle. As you scan your environment to assess how many angels are coming at you, you also assess the casualties among your newly found “battalion”. So many of Rosie’s cannibals were surrounding you, dead. The sight was awful. Families, all with hopes and dreams, lay crushed beneath your feet. You look around for any signs of life from your friends, seeing Angel wielding 6 machine guns and… was that Sir Pentious and Cherri kissing? Never mind that, you had one person and one person only on your mind… your boyfriend Husk. Last night, you were expressing how worried you are about the possibility that one (or both) of you may not make it out of this war alive. He assured you that he could hold his own, particularly worried about you. You trusted your fighting abilities, but if something happened to Husk and you weren’t there to help him, you don't think you would ever be able to forgive yourself.

You find yourself facing your worst nightmare after fighting off two particularly feisty exterminators. You turn a corner of the horribly wrecked hotel to continue your search for Husk, only to be met with your boyfriend’s injured body laying on the ground, struggling to crawl to shelter.

“HUSK!” you shout, running to him and helping him up.

When your hands moved to his back to guide him to shelter, you noticed that something was missing. His - his wings. They were brutally ripped off of his back, leaving only grotesque stubs where they used to be.

“Oh- Oh my Satan, we need to get you the fuck out of here. Why didn't you call for me? For anyone?!”

“I- I didn't want anyone-” he struggles to finish his sentence, fading in and out of consciousness. “I didn't want anyone to get hurt”

You managed to essentially drag him just out of sight of the exterminators, behind a particularly dull-looking building. You used any loose pieces of clothing that you could spare to put together a makeshift-bandage, only half-stopping the blood that was seeping from his back.

“I’m sorry… you’ll be okay. Please be okay. I’ll make you okay.” you say as he winces from the pain.

And for the first time in your life, you prayed.

To whom, it was unknown. I doubt the prayers of the damned are granted, but you needed more than anything for this to just be a bad dream.

************************************************************************

As you wake up, your body is drenched in a cold sweat and tears are streaming down your face. You realize that this was all some fucked up dream, but the fact that it could become a reality very soon terrified you. You simply couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face, small sobs escaping from your lips.

You reach your side table for your phone, only to see that it’s 3:42 AM. Damn, you really hoped you weren’t being too loud right now. Stifling tears, you notice several missed texts from Angel:

_____________________________________________________________

[12:00 AM]

💬Angel: I saw what he put in there, i dont think its deadly… might give you a wild trip tho. but i gave the guy a good beat down on ur behalf lmaooo ;) Left u in ur room to sleep it off, didnt want any idiots to seeya like that

[12:34 AM]

💬Angel: bitch whyd you lock ur door :(

[1:00 AM]

💬Angel: Y/N are you up yet?????

💬Angel: shitshitshitshit

💬Angel: Pls text me when you get up!!!!

____________________________________________________________

Reading these texts suddenly flooded you with memories of the night before (or, really, a couple hours ago.)

You and Angel Dust had decided that, fuck it, if the extermination was coming in a few days, you might as well party like there’s no tomorrow. Heading to the nearest club, you guzzled beelzejuice like it was the last thing in Hell and maybeee fucked around and flirted with a couple guys. As one of the guys you were talking to brought you a drink while Angel was on the dance floor, you downed it and started dancing with him. It wasn’t until your vision started fading that you realized that this asshole spiked your drink. Luckily, Angel was able to spot the signs from across the way and immediately scooped you up and brought you back to the hotel, screaming at the guy as you left. According to his text, I guess Angel went back to the club and fucked the guy up a bit, which made you feel a bit better. Sometimes experiences like these remind you that, yeah, you’re still in Hell.

Remembering this only made you cry more. The tears flowed for a multitude of reasons: you were so angry that someone had the balls to spike your drink - to spike ANYONE’S drink! You were also so mad at yourself for allowing some rando to buy you a drink without you looking. You were also so grateful that Angel had such a watchful eye and cared for you so much. You guessed that the hallucinogen the man spiked you with was the cause of your terrifyingly hyper-realistic dream.

You then remember what time it is, realizing that you had let a particularly loud sob escape your mouth. Shit. You really hoped that nobody woke up because of your crying. That would be embarrassing… to say the least. This thought was interrupted by a knock on the door. Damnit.

“Who is it?” you ask.

“It’s me,” Husk replies.

Husk had heard your quiet sobs from the next room over and was listening by your door. As he heard that the cries weren’t dissipating, he decided to check on you. You quickly tried to hide any evidence that you were crying, wiping your tears on your sleeve and trying to eliminate any signs of redness on your face.

“What’s up?” you ask.

“Can I come in?” Husk replies.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” you say, waiting for him to enter.

“Hello?” you ask.

“It’s locked.” he replies.

You remember Angel’s text with a small laugh and get up to open your door, taking one more precaution to wipe your face before doing so. You open the door to see Husk’s tired yet worried face.

“You ok?” you ask him.

“I think I should be asking you that.” he says while entering your room, leaving you standing at the doorway.

“Uh, I mean, yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“I heard you crying from my room.” he says, looking at you worriedly.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, it’s, like, 4AM.” you reply, trying to seem nonchalant and like he was the one interrupting your sleep.

“Okay, I may be tired, but I’m not dumb.” he says, matter-of-factly.

“I wasn’t crying! I was probably just snoring or something.” You take his hand into yours. “But, I appreciate you checking up on me. Okaygoodnightseeyouinthemorningbyeeeeee!” you say while trying to lead him to the door.

“Sure.” he says, clearly calling your bluff. “You do know you can always talk to me, right? That’s what I’m here for, hon.” he says, genuinely looking into your eyes while holding both of your hands. His pure care for you overpowers any urge to hide your emotions from him, and you exhale.

“Fine. I was crying.” you confess.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I guess.” you lead him back to sit on your bed.

“I- I went out with Angel last night. I think, if i can remember, some guy spiked my drink with what I assume is a hallucinogen.” You could see Husk becoming visibly angry. “Anyways, Angel got me out of there before anything bad could happen. I guess I came back up here and passed out, but I had a horrible dream.”

“You better have a description of the guy so I can beat his ass to a bloody pulp-”

“No. It’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

“The nightmare… it was-”

“That’s what this is all about? It couldn’t have been that bad-” he asks.

“No, you don't get it. It was extermination day… the angels were ruthless. I looked around and I… I couldn't find you anywhere. I fought angels and searched relentlessly for you, only to find you left for dead with your-” you shift in your seat, the mere thought of the nightmare making you upset. “-With your wings torn off. I tried saving you, but I just knew… I just knew you wouldn't make it.”

As you stare into the distance, clearly bothered, Husk realizes just how much this scared you. When he first heard that all of this commotion was about a nightmare, he was surprised. You weren’t exactly one to get too emotional at the slightest of things, so this was new for you. But Husk realized why this was different. This nightmare was a very, very real possibility and a decently rational fear. There really was no telling what would happen come extermination day.

“How about this,” he says, placing one of his hands on your shoulder.

“Tonight, we forget about all of this. Extermination, angels, all of it. I’ll sleep in here and we can cuddle, you can talk to me or just fall asleep. We can sleep in as late as you want and just be here, in this room, right now. Just in this moment, you and I. How does that sound?” He asks.

This tenderness from Husk, though he is your boyfriend, was refreshing. He truly knew how to calm you down when you needed it most.

Nodding your head, you both get under the warm covers of your bed. You rest your head on Husk’s chest, savoring the slow movements of his breaths. As he moves his hand to stroke your hair, you slowly start to fall into a deep and peaceful slumber. As you both basked in each other’s warmth, Husk’s soothing purring made its way into your ears, the music of your dreams. No amount of money in Hell could get you to gamble away the pure jackpot you held in your arms on this night.

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palajae · 6 months

Text

it’s just…

PAIRING... skater!niki x skater!reader | GENRE... figure skating! au, romance, angst, fluff, unconditional love? | WC... 0.6k | “it’s just what?”

“congratulations on another wonderful performance and win! you guys have been dominating the couples skate for years now even though you’re still so young, how do you feel?”

your partner’s arm around you tightens a bit as he stares into the camera, leaning into the mic. the sweat fresh from coming off the ice gleams on his forehead and you stare at his side profile, resisting the urge to wipe a drop running down the side of his cheek.

still breathing heavily, he manages to sport a bright grin.

“yeah, well, i think the fans will be happy. we worked really hard, and i hope the performance shows that.” he glances down at you as you smile back up at him.

“i think we’re both satisfied. i’m proud of y/n too, as always.”

your smile grows a bit at that.

you and niki had been partners for over six years now, having essentially grown up together. you think you’ve spent more time with niki on the ice than you have at home with your family.

but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

you respected him immensely, trusted him entirely, and you knew he felt the same. the fans could see it too.

it showed in every interaction, every performance. you two were naturally close and friendly, so the shipping that came along with it was expected. no one could deny your chemistry.

after the interview finishes, you and niki finish up with pictures of you with your medals. he even picks you up and spins you around as you laugh, beaming at your expression.

when you finally get a moment to rest, he ruffles your hair. “good job today. i’m proud of you.”

you shove his hand away playfully, “you worked hard too. did you want to grab some food before we get back to the hotel? i’m kinda hungry and you know-“

you glance at niki to see him typing away on his phone. you poke his cheek.

“hm? yeah?”

you cross your arms and huff as he sheepishly squeezes your side as an apology.

“i said, did you want to get some food? coach said we don’t have any more schedules, so we should be free…”

niki bites his lip. “sorry, i already have some plans. but i’ll meet you back at the hotel?”

you frown. since when did he ever not want to spend time with you?

“alright, see you later.”

you end up passing out back at the hotel and don’t see niki until the next day for practice. it goes smoothly as usual, but he seems a little off.

it’s not until your coach calls break when you nudge him, skating in circles around him like an animal surrounding their prey.

“what’s up with you?”

“what do you mean?

you raise an eyebrow, taking his hands and pulling him along. “you know what i mean, so spill.”

he sighs heavily, “i wanted to wait until we got home, but…”

“but?”

“I think i’m gonna go out with haerin.”

you stop. and slowly let go of his hands.

“oh.”

“it’s nothing serious for now,” he adds hastily, “we’re just getting to know each other.”

“no, no, of course,” you mumble while collecting your thoughts.

“it’s just-“

“its just what?” niki perks up almost immediately like he was anticipating your response with a glint in his eyes.

“nothing.” you smile flatly. “i was just surprised.”

it certainly seemed out of the blue. it wasn’t that you minded—niki could date whoever he liked. you guys were just professional partners and always had been.

but why does something feel so wrong?

a/n ▸ happy happy halloween (if you celebrate it)👻 ☺️to be continued…. hehe the rest are already planned so keep a look out ;)

part 1/4 | next.

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @jungwonize @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii @love-4-keum @nyanggk @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @yjjungwon @flwrshee @who-tf-soddhi

@kflixnet

#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #niki x reader #niki x you #niki fluff #niki imagines #enhypen niki #establishing my nikiblr dominance lol

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cherryflavoredvamp · 1 year

Text

🍒 double cherry pie 🍒

pairing: female reader x eddie munson

summary: you and eddie have been friends for years, until one day you decide to ask him what the handcuffs on his wall are for *wink wink*

warnings: 18+, smut, slight innocence kink but reader is playing dumb (strategically), come eating lolz, possessive eddie, bestfriend!eddie makes his return, not proofread i was really excited to post this one haha, and the rest is a surprise

author’s note: this idea came to my head and there are so many eddie fics it’s possible some version of this exists somewhere else, but anyhow my brain wouldn’t shut up about this idea until i wrote it down haha. please reblog and comment i love to hear your feedback it keeps me encouraged to write! okay ilysm enjoy babes

not proofread be nice - xoxo, slater

Eddie Munson was good at getting what he wanted needed out of you, he needed you more than he needed air to breathe. Not that you noticed though, you two had been friends for as long as you could remember and Eddie had always been inching closer and closer to having you all to himself. In your time as friends, Eddie had decided he would be your first everything. I’m talking all of the bases, first base aka kissing, second base aka touching above the waist, third base aka touching below the waist. And lastly, he planned on a home run, because in his mind no one else deserved to have you like that but him. He had been a guard dog of sorts, protecting you from any heartbreak, which meant scaring off anyone who tried to get their hands on you. It wasn’t easy, some were persistent, leaving notes in your locker, walking you to class, nothing or no one got between Eddie and his favorite girl. His girl.

“What are these for,” you feigned innocence at the handcuffs that adorned Eddie’s poster cluttered walls. You knew exactly what they were meant for, you just wanted to hear him say it. The confused look on your face nearly took Eddie’s breath away, now was his chance.

“For bad girls,” Eddie chuckled at his own ridiculous behavior. God, you were driving him crazy without even laying a finger on him.

“Oh?” Your voice rant with curiosity and interest, maybe you could be bad. Just this one time, maybe. Eddie was shirtless in his tight black jeans and he really couldn't have looked more delectable than he did at this very moment. The temptation was there for the taking.

“Mmmhm,” Eddie sat on his bed, hands placed behind him to prop him up.

“Mmmhm isn’t much of an answer, Munson,” your heart raced, you really couldn’t help toying with him a bit. He thought you were none the wiser, but you had a hunch for what all of his odd behavior meant lately. You were just unaware of how much he actually liked you. It was bordering on obsession and Eddie couldn’t help it, he adored you, always had. The tension the last few weeks were palpable to say the least.

“Well I could show you better than I can tell you…” Eddie smirked knowingly at you, sitting up to rest his hands on his thighs.

“And what is that supposed to mean,” you blushed sweetly. Eddie loved when he made you blush, if he only knew how many times you had blushed and turned away so he couldn’t see turn red. It happened more often than you liked to admit.

“You’re a hands on learner aren’t you,” Eddie trailed off hopefully.

Say yes, say yes, say yes Eddie thought to himself.

“How’d you know,” you smiled at him, of course he knew that he’s known you forever. He just hoped you’d say yes, and he was halfway to getting that yes.

“Hand em’ over then,” Eddie held out his hand and you took the handcuffs off the wall careful not to scuff the paint, not that Eddie would care. He worshiped the ground you walked on, after all.

“Okay…,” you say handing them to Eddie, and to your delight he pats his lap as if to say ‘take a seat.’

Straddling his lap you try your best to stay calm and cool about the whole situation, but it was a long time coming and you could’ve screamed if you weren’t so nervous.

“Now,” Eddie begins, holding the handcuffs out to you, “hands.” You place your hands in front of you waiting on further instruction, giddy as a kid in a candy shop.

Eddie cuffs your wrists and snaps the clasps shut sounds so final, heart pounding you smile and say “now what.”

“Now…you’re stuck with me,” Eddie places your cuffed hands around his neck and presses your body to his, you can feel how hard you’ve made him and you audibly gasp. Eddie’s hands are palming your ass, “nice skirt,” his hands are under your skirt now, fingers skimming the lace detail of your panties. “Cute,” Eddie comments, a small groan escaping his pretty mouth.

“Ditto,” you wanted nothing more but to kiss him in this moment, but good things were worth waiting for.

“Ditto? Are you calling me cute?” Eddie looked a mix between amused and confused. No one has called him cute since he was a little kid, it wasn’t a compliment he was used to. The frequented compliments came from the punk girl who worked the gas station near his house, and one of the older waitresses at his work. Sarah always complimented his hair and jacket, and Mabel always told him how handsome he looked with his hair pushed back as he worked. She had said he looked more and more handsome every time she saw him, she felt like she watched him grow up in the blink of an eye. And Sarah thought he was cool, but she liked women only, Eddie just happened to be the prettiest boy in town. Plenty of girls liked Eddie, but he was taboo, town gossip ensured his dating life was much more complicated than it should ever be for someone in their early twenties.

“Yes,” you sigh, a little dreamy sigh that had slipped out before you could stop it. “You’re cute, but you’re also hot.”

“Hot?” Eddie raised his eyebrows in shock, you’ve never really commented on his looks, you thought he already knew how good looking and charming he was. But you were getting the memo that he didn’t actually know, and you thought someone should let him know, you’d be damned if it was anyone else but you.

“As hot as the trailer gets in the summer when the window AC unit goes out and you hit it and cuss it out until it works,” you say making Eddie’s mouth drop. Were you really admitting you had feelings for him by making a reference to his shitty AC?

“Oh my god,” is all Eddie can say, “how long have you been in love with me?” And just like that his smartass attitude had returned with a vengeance, he knew you liked him now so all bets were off, no more tiptoeing around the truth.

“Quit it, are you going to show me what these handcuffs are for or not, Eddie Munson?”

“I could have you cuffed to this bed and screaming my name, but I don’t think you’re ready for that yet,” Eddie says and you scoff. “Don’t get an attitude with me,” Eddie smirks at the brat straddling him, “patience is a virtue, Princess.”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes and wish you could cross your arms in protest. How did he know what you were and weren’t ready for? What was his fucking deal? “Whose the tease now,” you remark, not able to hold that one back when you should’ve been feigning innocence and keeping face.

“Oh, so you were doing that on purpose? Aw my little tease, how cute,” Eddie boops the tip of your nose with his finger.

“Shut up,” you retort.

“Be careful, remember I’m the one with the key.”

“What are you trying to say?” Your attitude was palpable at this point and Eddie was getting fed up. Before you knew what was happening Eddie had you flipped you onto the bed and a hand holding your cuffed wrists to the mattress above your head.

“I’m trying to say I’d be careful if I were you, I might keep you here like this forever,” his other hand held your cheek so gently like you might break.

“Is that a threat?” You’re the one smirking now, staying here under him didn’t seem like a bad fate after all.

“You’re going to kill me,” Eddie whispered, thinking of how to hold himself back when you were here, waiting for him to touch you, wanting him almost as much as he wanted you. Eddie knew he wanted to take his time with you, first base was the end goal but god the home run was right in front of his face, begging him to go further than he thought you were ready for.

Before he did anything else he had to know for sure, because it looked as though you could’ve already had your first kiss. Not that it would change his mind about you, he just wanted to be your everything, that was all. “Has anyone ever kissed you? Honest answer please.”

“No! Oh my god, I’ve been waiting for you,” you whined and writhed beneath him, he could feel his dick brush against you and he hissed at the feeling.

“You have no idea how what that means to me,” Eddie said reaching over you to his nightstand for the key.

“I think I have an idea,” you nodded your head towards his crotch and he laughed unlocking the cuffs.

Tossing the handcuffs to the side Eddie laughed and brought you back up to his lap in an instant, for a lanky guy he really had the potential to toss you around and that made your mind run wild with the possibilities.

“Kiss me already, what are you waiting for?” You ask impatiently squeezing Eddie’s arms.

“Waitin’ for that beautiful mouth of yours to quit moving,” Eddie brushed his thumb along your bottom lip teasingly and you nodded, closing your mouth, eyes big and glassy. He melted at the sight of you. “That’s more like it,” Eddie held your face and your hands held onto his arms in vice like grips. Eddie and you met half way, lips brushing slightly, “close your eyes,” Eddie directed making you laugh. Your laugh was cut short by him pressing his mouth to yours, he quite literally took your breath away. The kiss was soft and warm, gentle at first, Eddie ran his tongue across your bottom lip and you opened your mouth for him. The two of you melted together nicely, a sweet kiss turned pornographic and animalistic the way you two had both waited for this moment forever. Eddie moaned in your mouth and you pressed yourself against him, he was still sensitive but didn’t break the kiss even though it hurt. He thought it hurt too good to stop. His hands raked down your hips and then back up, you would’ve gasped when he groped your breasts but you were too busy devouring him to break the kiss. Too busy to question his hand under your skirt, feeling how wet you were for him. You could feel him smile as he ran his finger through your folds, two fingers stretching you out deliciously you couldn't fight the urge to rock back and fourth on his fingers, and that's when you pushed against him until his back hit the mattress. You broke the kiss and stared down at him, he cheeks were flushed and he looked breathtaking.

"Hmm," you sat up and fiddled with his handcuff belt buckle, he was looking at you with awe and curiosity. What were you planning to do next? He decided that would be your choice. Much to his surprise you started unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans.

"Are you sure about this," Eddie held the waistband of his jeans, waiting on that yes again.

"I've never been more sure of anything, Eddie. I want you, I want this," you said and that's all it took for Eddie to peel his jeans off while you took your shirt off. Not feeling shy, not feeling anything but how right this all felt. Eddie's fingers slid along the waistband of your panties and slipped them off with ease, when you sat on top of him with no barrier in between the two of you he sighed with relief. Rubbing yourself on him was making his head spin, he let out a string of curses when you licked up his neck, kissing and sucking until he had you flipped over on your back again, giggling up at him, you knew just how to drive him wild.

"You're trouble," Eddie pumped two fingers in and out of you torturously slow, curling his fingers in a come hither motion over and over again until your legs felt like jelly and the sounds coming from you sounded rated R. You whined with his tongue on your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin until there was sure to be a big hickey in the shape of Eddie's mouth. But you didn't care what people would think, nothing could ruin this.

"You're sinful," slipped out of your mouth and you surprised yourself at the sheer smoothness of your words, something about him made you comfortable enough to say these dirty things.

"Mm, maybe my mouth is," Eddie's tongue circled your breast, sucking on your breast staring up at you, you knew Eddie's mouth wasn't the most sinful thing about him with his cock pressed to your tummy. You run your hands through his hair and whine, tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation. "Feel good, Princess?" Eddie kissed your lips and smiled devilishly down at you.

"Mhm," you nodded.

"Mhm isn't much of an answer, baby. Need to hear you say it," Eddie parted your thighs further apart for him, angling himself closer to you and rubbing his cock up and down your folds, almost pushing himself in but not yet, not until you said it.

"Need to feel you inside me, please, Eddie," you held his face and swept his hair out of the way, your hands running through his hair were quickly becoming one of his biggest weaknesses. He couldn't deny you of what you wanted any longer, when the only thing you wanted was for him to be closer.

"Fuck," Eddie cursed burying himself into you halfway, "I don't know if I'll fit, relax for me. Ok, baby? How does that feel?" He kissed your cheek and wiped a tear away.

"More, please," you dig your fingernails into Eddie's back and he laughs, relieved he wasn't hurting you. "Feels good, Eddie, need more," you scratch down his back, cherry red nails gripping onto his waist, your hips moving against his, giving you everything you asked for and more. You really weren't expecting him to be this big.

Your kiss marks all over his chest and neck he tells you "you're making a mess of me, trying to ruin me for everyone else?"

"Isn't that what you're doing too?" You smirk up at him knowingly.

"That obvious, huh?"

"Yes," you cry out, your orgasm finally hitting you in waves.

"Oh my god, Cherry," Eddie said using that cute nickname only he could call you, no one else. Keeping the same pace he held you close and soothed you through the intensity, kissing you everywhere. "Let me see your tongue," you stick your tongue out and let him spit on it and makeout until you feel him release inside of you.

Then Eddie does something you never could've seen coming, he isn't done with you yet. He finds a comfortable place for his head between your thighs, biting and sucking at the plush flesh inside your thighs, there he kisses you pussy and sucks at your clit making you shake. Licking you clean, and lapping his come out of your pussy, you watch in amazement as he winks at you while his tongue fucks your pussy, the most sinful thing you've ever seen and felt.

You wondered just how long he planned to do this, if you only really knew how long he'd thought about having you like this. The hickeys on your neck were enough to scare anyone away from his Cherry pie.

#eddie x female reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #best friend!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x y/n #best friend!eddie munson #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson oneshot

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venus-haze · 13 days

Text

Power Play (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: So, you lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship. It happens all the time. Maybe not quite like this.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Crazy ass 80s Vought debauchery. I might be a little rusty, but it was fun getting back into writing readerfics after two months🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Power imbalance, cheating (Soldier Boy’s with Crimson Countess). Mentions of drug use. Soldier Boy is his own warning. Sexually explicit content involving elements of forced intox, semi-public sex, breeding kink.

You were dizzy. With Vought’s investor gala rapidly approaching, you spent the better part of your day camped out in your office, flipping back and forth through your rolodex to call and confirm catering, entertainment—you still couldn’t believe the board of directors actually approved Duran Duran’s booking fee—and transportation, off the top of your head. You already told Stan Edgar you were taking the following week off, which he had no qualms about—so long as the gala went off without a hitch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you were interrupted by a knock at your office door, which you’d left open in an effort to be available in the lead up to the event.

“Don’t tell me Edgar’s got you working tonight,” Soldier Boy said, walking in when he saw he had your attention.

“The most important night of the year is less than a week away and I still have a to-do list as long as your dick, so, yeah.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Must be pretty busy then.”

“How about you? Where’s Countess?” you asked.

Soldier Boy probably would have sought you out even if Crimson Countess were around, but from what you’d been hearing through Vought’s extensive grapevine, they were in yet another rough patch. Though, it seemed to you like their relationship was one long, extremely rough patch with some calm once in a blue moon. You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself that you ate up the gossip of their relationship like candy, especially when the other members of Payback—including Countess herself—would rant to Edgar about it. Since your office was right next to his, and most supes had little to no sense of subtlety, you could hear just about everything.

“She’s at one of those wildlife charity things, pandas or some bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “Bitched at me because I wouldn’t go. She won’t be back until Friday.”

“Soldier Boy, I can’t just—“

“Sure you can. I mean, I’m technically your boss too, aren’t I?” he asked. “So, I say there’s no harm in taking a ten, fifteen minute break. Relieve some stress.”

You sighed. It had been a while since you actually got up from your desk. “Alright. Fifteen minutes, tops.”

He grinned. “Now we’re talking. You keep that minibar stocked?”

“Pick your poison.”

“Whiskey?”

“Sure.”

At least, you were pretty sure. The minibar in your office served as a nice gesture for the variety of people who’d come into your office for meetings related to all of the aspects of event planning you were in charge of. Over the past few weeks, though, you’d been reaching for bottles of whatever you could find to relieve the stress. Powdered your nose every so often, but tried not to make that a habit—not that you blamed your coworkers who did. Working at Vought was brutal and demanding, but hell, who else got to work with superheroes? Especially handsome, smarmy assholes who knew just how to fuck the lingering thoughts of any deadline or event planning out of your mind if you played your cards right.

He handed you a shot glass. “What should we toast to?”

“To taking next week off.”

“Yeah? What’ve you got planned?”

You threw back your shot. “Nothing.”

“That’s no fun. How does a few days in Miami sound?”

You nearly scoffed. Of course he could make something like that happen on such short notice. For forty years running he was America’s superhero and Vought’s cash cow. After a night of schmoozing at the investor gala, he could very well clear out his schedule and fuck off for a week of sun, sand, and sex, too.

“I might need some convincing.”

“Then make yourself comfortable,” he said, walking back to the minibar to pour another shot for each of you. Almost comical, he’d have to drink the whole bottle and then some to feel the same way you did after two shots.

You glanced at the open door. “Someone might see.”

“Are you gonna make me repeat myself?”

Sparing the door one more glance, you worked at unbuttoning your blouse, tossing it aside. You shimmied out of your skirt and let it fall to the floor.

“Heels stay on,” he said, his back to you. “Everything else off. Everything.”

With a hesitant huff, you unhooked your bra and pulled off your panties, throwing them in his direction when he turned around with the shot glasses. You made yourself comfortable on top of your desk, pushing some of your belongings aside to accommodate you.

He whistled lowly as you quickly finished off the second shot he gave you. “Look at you sitting pretty for me.” His green eyes burned a hole through you, though your gaze was fixed on the prominent bulge in his pants. He brought his shot glass to your lips. “Drink up, sweetheart.”

And you did, forcing the alcohol down as your vision blurred with tears at the unrelenting burning in the back of your throat. Felt some whiskey dripping from the corners of your mouth when you drained the shot glass. He collected the excess from your lips with his thumb, sucking it clean as he kept his eyes locked with yours.

“See how much fun we have together?” he asked, leaning over you until you laid back on top of your desk. “Could do that all next week.”

He kissed you, hard and mean like you needed him to. Perfect teeth that caught your bottom lip between them for a moment before releasing. Whiskey on his tongue that went to your head even though you knew he could hardly feel it. Rough hands feeling up your breasts, giving your nipples a harsh tug that made you moan in his mouth.

“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice husky as he rubbed his fingers between your slick folds with tantalizingly slow strokes. “If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.”

“Fuck,” you whispered.

“What was that?”

You groaned in frustration. “Just fuck me already.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

His mouth was on yours again, nearly distracting you from the sound of a zipper, the your gut clenching in anticipation as he pulled his cock from his pants.

It’d been a while since you had to brace yourself to take him, but you were wet, and maybe a little more than tipsy, so your body gave little resistance when he slid his cock inside you. Though, if Soldier Boy were anything, it was a guy who took what he wanted anyway, giving you hardly a second to get used to the feeling of how his cock stretched your pussy before he was pounding into you with harsh, unforgiving thrusts that made you grip the edge of your desk.

Sometimes you forgot how strong he was. Hell, so did he, and there was little else you could do but lay there and take what he gave you. In all honesty, it was nice letting someone else take charge after having to hold it together all day. Let him fuck the stress out of you and replace it with all the aches and bruises that came with having sex with the strongest man on earth.

“Harder,” you forced out, pushing that damn rolodex onto the floor.

“I go any harder, I’m gonna break you in half, and I don’t wanna do that until I’ve got you locked away in a hotel room for a week.”

“What are you gonna do to me?”

“Whatever the fuck I want. Not like I don’t already.”

You moaned. “Soldier Boy—”

“I’m not pulling out, so you better be on the pill or say your damn prayers,” he growled, his hot breath kissing your skin. You were on the pill, but nevertheless your hips bucked at his words, pussy clenching around his cock. “Oh shit, you want that, don’t you?”

“Yes—oh my god!” you cried out, muscles cramping as your orgasm pulsed through you, pleasure stealing your breath, choking you gently enough to leave you dizzy. “Yesyesyes—fuck!” Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode in your chest, especially as he kept mercilessly pounding into you, chasing his own release.

He soon came with a groan, his cock twitching inside you as he bottomed out, practically knocking the wind out of you with a particularly hard thrust.

You felt empty and sticky when he pulled out, and you didn’t want to think about the poor soul who was gonna be cleaning the mess you and him left behind the following morning, because you sure as hell weren’t in any shape to clean up the cum that was leaking out of you and onto the floor.

You put your hands on your chest, trying to catch your breath as he stood over you. The guy hardly broke a sweat, and you felt like you just ran the New York City Marathon. Super stamina. God fucking bless America.

“Hey,” he said, waving his hand in front of your face. “You good?”

“Sure,” you managed to answer. “Except now I don’t know how I’m gonna walk out of here, let alone get home later.”

“The ride up to the 99th is quicker. And if you need more convincing about Miami—“

You pursed your lips, considering the work you still had left to do before you could reasonably call it a night. But you were tired, and admittedly drunk, and Soldier Boy was already hard again. “I might.”

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy the boys #the boys x reader #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys tv #the boys soldier boy #the boys imagine #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy smut #im a feminist i promise #but do you ever think about how that man could literally break you in half if he wanted to?

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p0ckykiss · 6 months

Text

every second is a highlight - lee heeseung

summary -> heeseung's always had a soft spot for you. it takes a little while longer for him to realise that it's actually something more.

genre -> fem!reader x heeseung, fluff, idiots in love, don't realise they like each other, tiny hints of angst

heeseung swirls the drink in his hand as he waits outside. he didn’t think things through, acted on impulse when he’d seen the flood of messages after his work. this is the only solution he could come up with, wanting to cheer his friend up. heeseung sighs softly, looking down at the melting drink. the tips of his fingers are frozen but he bears the tingling. he switches over, blowing hot air to keep himself warm.

it’s worth it though.

you come out of his building, beaming smile as you spot heeseung by the stairs. if it hadn’t been for the brick wall beside him, heeseung's sure he would’ve dropped the drink. all of a sudden, you run to him, enveloping heeseung in your arms. there’s a lot of squealing in his ear, but he pays it no mind. it’s normal with you and over the years, heeseung can say that he’s immune. he’s aware of the co-workers staring at them, so heeseung pulls away hesitantly. it doesn’t affect you, though. you intertwine your fingers, waving to the others before tugging heeseung away.

“you came all the way to give me my favourite drink?” you ask in between sips. “you didn’t have to, you know. i always rant about work.”

“how often do you end up in a fight with your superior?” heeseung rolls his eyes. you offer a sip of your drink then and without hesitation, he takes a greedy sip.

“ya, that’s like half the drink.” you scoff, grumbling under your breath. “you could’ve gotten your own.”

heeseung doesn’t like any of those drinks though. he doesn’t want to say no to you when you're offering sips of your own. can’t watch your crestfallen face upon rejection. he wonders how long he’ll be able to pull that off for.

“it tastes better.” heeseung grins through his lie. “maybe because it’s yours?”

even though teasing you is a second nature to him now, it goes both ways. heeseung has lost count of the number of times he’s caught you stealing his hidden gummies in the kitchen. he’s come to the decision of stocking that cupboard with all of your favorite snacks. because you love taking them away.

there’s a tug on heeseung's fingers and he realizes you are trying to point out to something. he’d forgotten you were holding hands. the cold from earlier has dissipated, the searing warmth from you is all that he can feel. heeseung keeps a tight hold, not wanting to let go.

“what is it?” heeseung squints.

“can we get some food?” you point to the shop by the road. “i skipped lunch.”

“you told me you ate lunch.” heeseung furrows his eyebrows. he remembers asking earlier and you had confirmed that you did. you've been so busy with work, heeseung has to make sure to remind you during the day.

“before you get mad at me, i was on my way to get lunch. but then, someone needed my help.” you mumble. “i would’ve assigned it to someone else. if only anyone else could do it.”

“i’m dropping by your work tomorrow. we’re eating lunch together.” heeseung sighs, walking towards their new destination.

“no, you won’t. hee, your work is twenty minutes away. by the time you reach me, you’ll lose half your lunch. there’s not enough left for you to return.” you shake your head. “i promise i won’t do it again. just this one time.”

it’s never one time, but heeseung lets it go. butting heads with you about this ends up with you both going in circles. maybe he’ll start organising a weekly meal plan for you both.

“oh, y/n, you’re back!” the elderly woman running the shop greets you first, smiling brightly. “you told me you were going to come last week.”

“i know, i’m really, really sorry. work has me busy.” you apologize. “i promise to eat whatever you recommend today.”

heeseung looks between the two, wondering how often you end up coming here during work hours or after.

“did you bring your boyfriend today?” the owner glances at heeseung. “i hope you’ve been taking care of y/n. she spends too much time working.”

the tips of your ears turn red and heeseung chuckles at your flustered state. he’s not sure if the reaction is about the insinuation of you being together or you over-working.

despite the craving to let you suffer a little longer, heeseung chooses to come to the rescue.

“i’m her good friend, heeseung. we grew up together.” heeseung introduces himself. “i’m trying to keep an eye on her but she likes lying about when she’s eating.”

“it was just today!” you argue, crossing your arms over your chest.

the owner laughs, shaking her head. “let’s go. there’s some empty seats on the other side.”

as soon as you sit down, heeseung notices you shiver. you rub your hands, hoping to generate some heat. your blue coat clearly not enough to keep you warm. heeseung pulls over his jacket, thrusting it in your hands. you look confused for a moment before shaking your head.

“i’ll be fine once i eat.” you push it back towards heeseung.

“you’re shivering. don’t make me zip you up.” heeseung threatens. it wouldn’t be the first time he’s done it. you tend to stubborn about your own wellbeing, choosing to sacrifice it for some silly reasoning.

“won’t you be cold?” you frown. “what if you get sick?”

“living with you for so long has me prepared for your lack of foresight. i have another jacket.” heeseung quips, ignoring your offended gasp.

your bickering is quashed when the food is put down on your table. heeseung watches in amazement as you wolf down at least four pieces in one go. it leaves behind a trail of sauce all over your lips and heeseung grimaces. he wipes it away aggressively with a tissue.

“no one is taking the food away from you. can you eat slowly?” you grin at heeseung's comment.

for once, you listen to heeseung's advice. you take smaller bites and there’s less of a mess. you end up taking at least half of heeseung's bowl too, but there’s no complains on his side. as long as you are satisfied and happy, nothing else matters.

---

“heeseung, wake up.”

someone is shaking him. the tiredness in his body makes him crave more rest and he rolls over, ignoring the disruption.

“we’re going to be late.”

this time, the blanket is ripped off the bed and heeseung shivers as the chilly air hits him. slowly, he opens her eyes, squinting at the person towering over him. y/n? heeseung rubs the sleep away, sitting up slowly as he struggles to make sense of the situation.

“awake now? we have twenty minutes to make the next bus or else we’re screwed.” you help him off the bed. “how the hell did you sleep through your alarm? you’re better than me.”

he remembers briefly stirring in his sleep, but the late night yesterday had taken a toll. heeseung promises himself never to drink with jay and jake on a work night again.

“you could’ve gone to work. my stop is earlier than yours.” heeseung frowns as he looks at the time. you will be late. why did you stay back with him?

“i already called in about my lateness and it’s fine. sometimes over-working has its perks. they were nice about it.” you scrunch up your nose. “i’ll grab you something for breakfast. get ready, okay?”

nodding meekly, heeseung hurries off to get dressed. there’s something suspicious about the way you are acting. did something happen last night? his memory is foggy beyond the point of him downing shots with jake. he’s adding this to the long list of reasons to lock their wine cabinet in the kitchen.

“ready? let’s go.” you hand heeseung his bag, as well as his breakfast. “i’ll meet you after work so that we can go to the café together?”

“what café?” heeseung asks. he doesn’t recall having a conversation about anything of the sort.

you snicker, adding to heeseung's confusion. “i knew you were out of it from your second glass of wine yesterday. jay wanted to visit the café he’s been raving about for a week. you said yes to it last night.”

oh.

“right. i can come to you, if you want?.” heeseung says as you both reach the bus stop. “you’re already busy, plus you’re late today because of me.”

“i am late and we’re going to be on a crowded bus.” you sigh. “heeseung, the direction of the café is towards your work. there’s no point in you coming to me for us to go back.”

the point is made and heeseung realizes the logic behind it. even though he’d rather pick you up from work, there’s no use doubling the travelling.

he spots the bus at the stop, a sense of dread brewing in his stomach. peak hour public transport is the worst. there’s no place to sit, no place to stand. people don’t want to take the empty seats next to strangers. and heeseung hates crowded buses.

you reach out then, loosely interlacing your fingers. you smile softly at heeseung, squeezing his hand lightly. “it’ll be okay. you board first.”

heeseung hasn’t been able to figure it out yet, but somehow you know when he’s unsettled. you know when heeseung is nervous. know when he needs that extra bit of support. and even though he asks you every time, you just shrug your shoulders.

feeling the reassurance of your support has never been an issue. you're vocal about chasing away insecurities and love to show it too. that’s what heeseung appreciates the most. you ground him, anchoring heeseung in the times even he himself doesn’t realize how much he needs it. it’s taken the years of your friendship to realize that your habit is to put everyone else first and then yourself. you cater for the needs of others, their stories, their worries. it gives heeseung the push to do the same for you.

as you both squeeze through the people on the bus, your grip on heeseung only tightens. you let out a shaky breath only when you reach the back of the bus. heeseung glances over at the seats, perking up at the sight of an empty one. he ushers you over before you have a chance to argue. for a moment, heeseung swears he spots a glare on your face, but the bus lurches and you stumble, sitting on the seat.

heeseung giggles, inherently winning an unspoken argument. you will always be the priority in his eyes.

---

“oh, you’re out early.” you walk beside heeseung as you leave the building.

heeseung zones out as you start talking about jay. there’s a dull pain in his chest. one he wants to erase. is it the thought of losing you? heeseung can’t quite comprehend the reasoning. hearing you ramble on and on about jay's funny jokes at work is rubbing him the wrong way.

“–love it more. are you even listening to me?” you pause, crossing your arms over your chest.

no, he isn’t. heeseung opens his mouth to reply but you wave him off.

“we’re here. i’ll pay today.” you say, walking inside the shop.

you regret saying that later when you're at the cashier. heeseung smiles smugly at the long receipt being printed out. of course, he’d take advantage of the offer.

you bicker about it all the way to the café, neither wanting to relent. thankfully, one of your friends, mina ends up breaking your squabbling.

“you guys made it! did you buy me a present?” there’s a shine in mina's eyes as she glances at your bags.

“no.” heeseung deadpans, placing it on the table.

“so mean.” mina mumbles. “y/n, have a look at their menu. i know you like some of the drinks i like, so i can recommend a few for you.”

heeseung chuckles at the excitement brimming between the two of you. always wanting to try out new things. he can’t relate to appreciating the heavily caffeinated drinks. “i’m going to go to the bathroom. i’ll be back in a bit.”

“i’ll order something for you.” you say absentmindedly.

mina locks eyes with heeseung, a teasing grin on her face. before she can do anything with the information, heeseung scrambles to escape.

heeseung took some time to compose himself as he headed back to your table.

he sees confusion plastered on mina's face, busy staring at the americano on his spot.

“that’s yours?” mina points. “you told me you hated everything coffee related.”

“no, i didn’t.” heeseung winces as he swallows a few sips. still just as bitter as he thought it would be.

“you hate coffee?” you are shocked as you look at heeseung. “but you drink half of mine whenever you buy it for me.”

there’s a hint of hurt laced in your voice and heeseung curses internally. this is exactly what he’d been avoiding. he flits his gaze between you and mina, not knowing how to answer. well, it’s not like mina didn’t know about his inability to say no to you. this isn’t news.

“his taste must’ve changed since we last talked.” mina smiles, chipping away on the pressure. “it’s been a while since we’ve come to a café.”

“that must be it. he never says no to me whenever i offer him sips from my own drink.” you chuckle.

heeseung chokes on his next sip, coughing hard. you didn’t have to say that out loud. his cheeks grow warm as mina looks over at him again. she’ll never live that down.

----

it’s your second bottle of wine you're about to finish between the four of you. you are huddled against heeseung, engrossed in playing with your threaded fingers. mina sits across, busy showing off something on her phone to jay.

heeseung's only had one glass himself yet his tolerance has always been low. you seem to be a bit soberer. his promise to himself about not drinking on weekdays flew out the window as soon as jay brought over two bottles from his father’s restaurant.

“are you okay?” heeseung asks, brushing your hair away from your face as you nod. “do you want to sleep?”

“i’m fine now. more worried about their state.” you chuckle at mina and jay. “how did they drink more than us but seem alert.”

“practice y/n.” jay quips. “don’t push yourself and you’ll build resistance. but i don’t think that’ll ever work with you. weak drinks are too strong for you.”

you grumble at the insult but don’t bite.

“do you guys think you can dance drunk?” mina challenges the three of you. “i bet heeseung can’t even stand on his feet right now.” she giggles at her phone.

heeseung's never one to back down and he leans over, plucking the phone out of mina's hands. what is this? a dance challenge? it seems simple to the eyes but requires a partner. he’s not doing this on his own.

you shift beside him, hooking your chin over heeseung's shoulder.

“that looks hard.” you squint. “why is it so fast?”

“do you want to try?” heeseung gets up, pulling you along with him. “i’ll guide you.”

“you watched it two times. i don’t trust you.” you shake your head.

“i’m offended. you should have more faith in me.” heeseung gasps. “just mirror what i do at the start.”

running through the video one more time, you nod. you stand in front of him as heeseung starts with his right hand up, left hand down. he intertwines his fingers with you, barely masks the sharp inhale that escapes his lips. he’s overwhelmed by your strong grip, but uses it to his advantage, lowering you for a mere second before pulling you back up. heeseung unwinds one arm, giggling as you squeal at the sudden movement. he tugs on your hand again, bringing you close. heeseung leans his forehead against yours, breathing heavily as your noses brush against each other.

even the darkness of the room couldn’t hide your gaze lingering on heeseung's lips. he meets your eyes, the confliction undeniably reflecting in heeseung's own.

“i don’t want to fight this any longer.” you sigh.

“then, don’t.” heeseung let’s go of your hands, cradling your cheeks between his palms instead. he brushes his thumbs across. “and just so you know, i don’t want to fight this either.”

you close the distance, pressing your lips against heeseung's. your eyes flutter close. it’s just as heated as it’s soft. not what heeseung ever really thought it would be like. it's so much more than that. he encircles your waist as you pull him by his shirt, keeping him near. it’s only when heeseung hears someone clear their throat that he remembers their friends are still there. he hesitantly moves away, kissing your forehead.

“god damn you guys. we didn’t need to see that. but finally!” jay shouts, cheering. “it seems like the plan worked.”

you and heeseung whip your heads back to jay.

“what plan?”

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no-droids · 1 year

Text

Another Rough Day

gif credit @chrishemsworht

Part Twenty of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.7K

Warnings: Angst, violence, canon-typical blood and gore, language, hurt/comfort

A/N: i wanna thank yall for sticking around during my hermit era, in the time ive been gone i am now officially a junior at a university majoring in aerospace and it’s a fuckin nightmare and i hate everything and god help us all literally kill me and I will be posting INCREDIBLY slowly because of that (I’m talkin weeks or months in between updates yall, im sorry I can’t dedicate more time to this but I am going to finish this fic within the next handful of chapters idk maybe 5 or 6 so you shouldn’t have to wait too too long). As a heads up there will be hard angst as we enter the final arc, there will be hurt and it’ll get dark but everything is gonna turn out alright so thanks for sticking with me and continuing to stick with me. im sorry if you dont like it or your expectations were subverted or if this isn’t what you’d hoped it would be after following and waiting around for so long but this was planned a long time ago and it took me a good year or two to recognize that I started writing this fic for me and now I’m going to end it writing for me and I hope yall can respect that

ALSO I asked my best BEST FRIEND in the entire world @cptnbvcks to collaborate with me for this after we both took a very long break from creating and she drew some GORGEOUS artwork for this chapter so it will be posted at the end, everyone please go follow her and say hello

ps brittany girl you’re a fuckin menace i had to use my own two ears and listen to ethan literally say the words “the mandalorian cums, hard” what the fuck was that im actually suing

anyways chapter below the cut lets get serious yall

---

You take two of them down before they even realize they’re being attacked.

Your aim is as swift and steady as if Din were behind your shoulder right now, calmly pointing out which stationary tree to hit next in rapid succession. You’re positioned perfectly at the bottom of the ramp to take full advantage of the ambush, the only thing running through your mind is strategy and the constant calculating of angles and ricochets. The other three troopers are trapped inside the open Crest and you’re right next to a large boulder that you can step behind for cover, but it proves unnecessary as the rumors were apparently true.

They’re… awful.

Not a single blaster is even fired in your direction—you think you see maybe one panicked red shot bounce around in the hull, but that’s it. The troopers fumble for their guns and trip over each other at the unexpected attack—a few scream like children through the modulators, but you’re temporarily deaf to anything besides the screech of your weapon hitting its target and the crumpling of armored bodies.

Later on, if someone were to ask you to describe exactly what happened—who died first, who ran for cover, who cried out for help—you don’t think you’d be able to. You don’t even really feel like a person right now. The entire thing is cold, robotic survival instinct, pure ruthlessness rising in your soul for the first time in your life. It feels sick. Wrong in your bones. Born from preemptive defense in fear of your life, but that doesn’t mean you stop. Not until all of them stop moving.

You empty the entire fucking canister for a handful of stormtroopers, firing plasma and char marks across every square inch of the pristine hull even after the last one drops. Your heart is beating too fast, your finger keeps pulling the trigger multiple times even after the blaster clicks uselessly, completely empty and beeping a warning that it must’ve begun emitting ages ago. Being out of ammo scares you—you suddenly feel vulnerable, even though the very far away logical part of your mind reminds you that they have to all be dead at this point and no physical threat was ever able to graze you.

Regardless, you quickly spin behind the boulder and grab another canister from your belt, giving it a spare check for leaks while the empty one slides and drops to the rocky ground. It’s the first time you’ve ever had to reload this weapon instead of just pointing and shooting, but the mechanics are relatively simple and your brain makes up for your lack of coherent thoughts with lightning fast perception. What's difficult is that your hands are starting to shake now that you’re not aiming, you’re not breathing correctly because you’re not really breathing at all. You can’t tell the difference between the adrenaline-fueled dissociative silence that muffles everything around you or if it really is just that quiet now. No more clatter of armor, no modulated voices or terrified screams. No blasters, no footsteps along the ramp, no birds singing.

You quickly pause to lift your elbow and check the enormous eyes blinking up at you, tiny claws still holding tight to the fabric of your tunic and completely unharmed, and then you force yourself to move. The blaster is held out in front of you while you walk forward and your finger rests on the trigger, begging to be pulled again. It’s suspenseful and terrifying in a different way than before—now it’s less about psyching yourself up for confrontation and more about the fact that any sudden movement could mean your very swift end.

Silence. Silence. You’re numb and raw at the same time, walking up the ramp as your eyes fly everywhere, not even registering the blood or gore, just searching for movement. You don’t know if you feel like a predator or prey, you’re that much more brutal and inhuman because of how fucking terrified you are. You count four stormtroopers in the hull laying crumpled and still on the metal floor, but the one in the far corner only has blood on his shoulder. You quickly swing the blaster around to remedy that, but then—

“P-Please don’t kill me!”

His words remind you of something. Reality, maybe. A world outside yourself and the kid’s survival, the living beings behind the bloody armor your enemies wear.

It’s a miracle your finger stays hovering over the trigger, and you watch him throw the blaster at your feet with a clang and scramble to show you his empty hands. “Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me—I’m not loyal to the Empire, I don’t want to be here, please, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die—”

Behind the mask, your expression furrows. Stormtroopers are loyal to the bitter end, what is he saying? They embrace their expendiality, it’s the only thing that makes them any sort of a real threat. Kuiil told you horror stories about them during your childhood, the cloning facilities and the propaganda they’re force fed since infancy. It’s nearly impossible to find one who hasn’t been raised from birth to serve the Empire, no matter how crumbled and trace its remaining authority may be.

No, this is a trap, it has to be. Your expression twists with dread after hearing him speak, readjusting your aim with the blaster and preparing yourself for the years of nightmares that’ll follow—but then he cries out, “Wait!” and then removes his helmet with trembling hands.

You pause, staring down at him in shock.

It’s him, you recognize him immediately. It’s the same face from a hologram puck you bore into your memory, spent multiple days staring at so you’d be able to spot him under any disguise or circumstances. Oshua Ryler. Your quarry, the fifth puck, the one Din was out Maker knows where searching for before this entire mess happened. A stormtrooper? His puck said nothing about the Empire, this doesn’t make any sense. What is he doing here? Stormtroopers don’t have pucks, they don’t have bounties or relatives or loved ones searching for them. They’re brainwashed, replaceable, faceless soldiers in suits of armor and they don’t even have names.

“Please don’t kill me,” he begs again, staring at you with wide eyes even as he cowers. “I have a family, I-I just want to go home, please—”

“Shut up.” You can’t think straight with him crying like that and you’re wasting so much time just standing here trying to process when your brain had to literally shut itself down to even do the things you’ve already done. You have to kill him and escape, you have to—you can’t trust this complication, not with the tiny claws currently digging into your back and reminding you of your purpose, but it was so much easier when he had on a helmet. You hate looking at his face. It’s going to haunt your dreams now, just like the man you stabbed on Corellia.

“Please don’t kill me—please don’t kill me,” he screws his eyes up and breathes over and over instead, and your stomach wrenches with disgust. His posture and expression are so fucking pitiful, you can barely keep your eyes on him through the overwhelming nausea and aversion that climbs up your throat. He’s with the Empire, and they’re looking for the baby. You know what needs to be done. Pull the trigger, just one small movement from you and it’ll be all over. It would be the easiest thing in the world, it would be so easy.

But then instead, you ask, “Why are you a stormtrooper?”

“I’m n-not—I hate the Empire—”

“The Empire is ashes.” You don’t know if you’re yelling or whispering with how much blood is roaring through your ears. “They hold no power anymore. Why are you with them?”

“Because the one thing they have left is money!” The quarry shrills the words at you, ghostly pale to the point of turning green. “Th-They buy troopers now—they opened up a whole new market for the smugglers, there’s a base nearby that’s used for training and…” He stares wide eyed at you and gulps. “C-Conditioning.”

Your brain is already going a trillion lightyears an hour and it doesn’t have the capacity to empathize or understand anything beyond the child’s survival and the relevant details right now. “Were they expecting the baby?”

“W-What?” He squeaks up at you.

“Was the bounty put out on you a trap set by the Empire?” You ask him, lifting your free arm just enough to flash him the tiny child clinging to your side. “He said they’re coming after the baby, so tell me if this was planned from the beginning.”

“Who is ‘he’?” The stormtrooper asks, furrowing his eyebrows and looking around. “What are you talki—”

“Tell me if the bounty on you was a trap to take this baby!” You roar, your blaster shaking as you aim it down at him. Your mind is acutely focused on the tiny claws hanging onto your tunic, the continued safety of the kid and the life or death situation facing him that you were given absolutely no information about. “Now—”

“If it was I didn’t know!” He quickly cries out, pleading with you and clamping his eyes shut in terror under the barrel sight. “I don’t know anything about a b-baby, or a bounty! They just put blasters in our hands and told us to search for a ship and to bring back anyone we find alive, I swear!”

You’re silent for a moment, biting your lip under the mask and caught halfway between discerning and stalling. You could still kill him. You should still kill him, time is ticking down and more troopers could be heading this way any second.

Shit. “Who put the bounty out on you?” You ask sharply. It might not be a completely fair question, but he can’t exactly blame you for not feeling completely fair right now.

“I—I don’t know,” he gasps, clutching his bleeding shoulder. “Could’ve been anyone—my mother, Cyra, o-or my dad, Obediah, or Thia, or Benja, or S—”

“Thia,” you interrupt his rambling, catching the slurred word and repeating it back to him.

“Yes!” Oshua jerks his head up, tears and hope immediately filling his eyes at the sound of her name, “Yes, Thiadura Celi Ryler, that’s my sister!”

Maker, if he’s lying, then he’s fucking brilliant at it. You look towards the cockpit of the ship, biting your lip under the mask. Get to Nevarro, tell Karga and he’ll… something. Din was cut off before he finished. Help? Know what to do? You’re lost, but you have a clear directive and the precious seconds are sliding by. The controls are right up there, two steps to the ladder and less than a minute until you’re rising into the atmosphere.

But then you think back to the terror in Din’s voice. The blistering panic that made him speak faster and with more urgency than you’ve ever heard from him. Get to Nevarro. Tell Karga. Get to Nevarro. Tell Karga.

You look back at the quarry. “How many of you are there?”

“At the base? Around three hundred,” he immediately spills. “Half of us are in the hole right now getting brainwashed, they do it in shifts, but they can be mobilized in a few hours. There were a lot of bodies outside when we were ordered to split off, maybe a third of our squadron, but the rest were still shooting at whatever was—”

“So around a hundred left,” You finish breathlessly, almost wanting him to speak faster and cut to the chase so you can calculate quicker. “How many were dispatched on the search?”

“Uh, there were eight groups of five sent in each major direction,” he informs you, still trembling on the ground. “Told us not to come back until we covered the entire sector.”

Of which, four you’ve already taken care of. In other circumstances, you’d be nauseated at the thought, but right now, it’s just another number to subtract, just more panicked math in Din’s frightening absence. That leaves at least sixty troopers left wherever the base is, minimum, and likely a couple more hours before they’ve combed the sector. If this wasn’t a preconceived trap purposefully set for the kid, then that means reinforcements haven’t arrived yet but likely will soon. And if this is a base meant for training and conditioning, then that also means there’s a chance not all of them will be loyal yet.

You make the decision immediately.

“Okay,” you announce, clicking the blaster’s safety switch and holstering it, sounding lightyears more certain than you feel. “Then you’re going to help me carry out a rescue mission, and I’ll take you back to your sister.”

“You…” He looks uncertain, blinking at your blaster and slowly lowering his hands. “You want to rescue the men?”

Ideally? Sure. Realistically? You don’t say anything in response. Instead, you kick his regulation firearm at your feet further away from the quarry just in case your judgment is flawed, and then turn around and grab one of the bodies behind you.

Your adrenaline is still blaring so fast that you only just barely note the severity of what you’ve just done and what you’re continuing to do. The corpses aren’t real to you right now, they’re inanimate things that you need out of your ship before you can close the doors to it. They are, however, heavy as fuck, but the only other adult here has a wound in his arm from the gun on your hip. Regardless, you have experience with lifting dead weight without a big, strong, capable man to do it for you.

“Help me out here, kid,” you mutter over your shoulder, and in response, you feel his claws dig in and climb up just a little bit until he can peek out in front of you. Thankfully, the burden is suddenly lifted and you can quickly slide the dead troopers down the ramp with ease. It takes hardly any time at all—you just yank and haul and release and all four of them tumble the rest of the way all by themselves.

When you stand back up, Oshua hasn’t moved and he’s looking at you with a pale, queasy expression. Glancing down, you see that your white robe is now stained with streaks and patches of rusty blood. Instead of swallowing back bile at the sight and bolting to the shower to scrub off every last remaining trace, you breeze past it, noting nothing more than a change of color. Dirtying your white, pristine clothing with the consequences of protecting this baby—you’d rather have blood-soaked fabric with an unharmed kid clinging to you than any other combination of those things.

“Can you make it up to the cockpit?” You ask the quarry, kicking his rifle off the ship before closing the ramp and then gesturing up the ladder. Your voice is calm and steady but your hands are beginning to shake again. “I need as much information as possible about the base.” You know that’s where Din is, judging from the wall of blaster screeches that drowned him out through the comm. Logically, you know you could be headed right into a trap, and every instinct inside you wants to find safety, but… you just cannot imagine flying the ship away from this planet without Din onboard. It isn’t fucking happening, you’ve made your choice.

Without waiting for a response, you climb the ladder and plop down in the pilot’s seat of the Crest. While Oshua finds some way to clamber up the steps behind you in bulky stormtrooper armor with one good arm, you hold the kid closer on your lap and begin flight checking. Din will be fucking furious, but the scolding you’ll be sure to get is the least of your worries right now. Following his instructions and going back to Nevarro is just making shit infinitely more dangerous for him, turning what could be a potential rescue mission into an undeniable suicide mission. Even if Karga somehow decides to send a few guild members along to infiltrate the base, it’ll be a war you want to avoid.

Besides. What did you always tell him about running away from him, even when he instructs you to?

It’s just… not really your thing.

---

They’re everywhere.

They crawl like flies out of the base, and for every single body that falls, three more spill from the open doors. Rapid fire plasma beams launch from the end of Din’s blaster, melting white armor with every twitch of his gloved finger. Their aim is terrible, as is to be expected, but the sheer number of them more than makes up for it, as is by design.

Din’s heart pounds with exertion, his breath comes in ragged huffs through the modulator as his helmet identifies and isolates which body is closest to him, which body he needs to bring down next. His blaster is so hot it nearly burns his hand, even through the thick gloves he wears. When he runs out of ammo, he holsters the pistol and swings his rifle from around his shoulder, spinning to catch a handful of troopers behind him in the obliterating blast.

He’s not thinking much. He can’t think, even though your safety and that of his son is currently dangling by a thread. If he focuses on that, he’ll be dead before he can even picture your faces. He just reacts, he maims and kills without a single thought in his mind. Blood splatters, screams and sirens blare as he becomes surrounded by more and more troopers. Din can hear the sound of plasma colliding and ricocheting off his armor; every single one of them is a potential injury he could currently have but might not even be able to feel right now.

His helmet starts beeping rapidly and he turns just enough to see, highlighted in bright red on the screen, two enormous artillery turrets slowly rising up out of the roof of the imperial base. He feels a fierce flash of anger burn in his chest, it’s like a lightning strike to his veins.

Din needs to go.

And yet… if he was another man. If he wasn’t a father, or a husband, if he had no family and no attachments like the creed declared he should, he would go. With just a twitch of his fingers, he could be launching into the sky and retreating as far away from this battlefield as he could reasonably get. He’s never been the type to run from a threat, but this isn’t just a threat. Dozens of troopers are gaining on him, they’re trampling their own dead to get within range. Plasma pings off his shoulder, another one hits his back as they flank from behind. He can feel the heat through the sizzling beskar, he can see them surrounding him on all sides, and the propulsion trigger for his jetpack is right there under his wrist.

Din holds his ground and continues firing, he plants his feet firmly to the dirt with only one thought in his mind.

Run, sweet girl. Run.

---

You type in commands to scan for Din’s signal, quickly locating it through the Crest’s computer onboard. Not far from here, three minutes or less. The ship rumbles to life beneath you, slowly lifting off the rocky ground and rotating in place as it hovers. It’s not on autopilot but you feel like you are, you can barely feel your hands as they move the yoke forward and the Crest takes off in the direction of Din’s blinking frequency.

“Tell me about defenses,” you instruct Oshua, restlessly bouncing your leg while the baby coos.

“Two plasma turrets on top of the base,” the quarry quickly answers. “There’s usually guards stationed around the perimeter, but everyone who’s capable will be outside right now.”

Your mouth twists downwards under the mask. Blasters don’t scare you much from this high up, but Din’s armor doesn’t cover every inch of his body, he’s not completely invincible. Doubt churns in your stomach, but you have to stay focused on one task at a time so you don’t get overwhelmed. The turrets, then. “Are they automatic?”

“Manual,” he corrects with a shake of his head.

“Radar?”

“Old. Only engages above fifty meters.”

You eye your altitude and dip the Crest considerably, beginning to weave through the rocky canyons and dodging crumbling cliffs while you travel. “What about ships?”

“None,” Oshua says, “except for a passenger shuttle used for transport. TIEs are flown in the Vesta sector, this base is remote and used for basic training only.”

“Anything else?” You ask, stomach twisting with the knowledge that barely four questions is all you’ve got. You’re planning to drop into an imperial base to save the man you love and you can’t think of a single other question?

The quarry shrugs, and your heart slams, does somersaults in your chest at the mere notion that you could fucking die here. Today, in two minutes or less, you could die here. The child in your lap looking over the ship’s front panel with a quiet determination in his eyes could die here. Din could already be dead—that signal broadcasts his location to this computer regardless of whether he’s still breathing or not. He could already be gone and you’d be flying the baby right into a trap without knowing any differently.

Whelp, you think while taking a deep breath, some strangely calm existential acceptance beginning to flood your soul. If he isn’t dead, he will be soon if you don’t make it to him on time.

You immediately lift your wrist and speak into the communicator. “Mando?” You have no idea if he can hear you, but you need to try anyway. Your voice is still firm, there’s a strength to it you don’t feel in your chest, but it certainly sounds convincing. “I’m coming to get you. Less than a minute to your location, do everything you can to get outside. If you can’t, I’ll just… uh. Try to figure something else out.”

That’s it. That’s it, improvise until you don’t have to. Even if you’re lacking confidence, you can at least scrounge up some conviction. Your arms gain feeling again while you veer the Crest through the stony terrain, the familiar reverberations under your feet begin to fill your body with a powerful sense of purpose. Your breaths begin to come steady, every falling rock you see through the transparisteel feels like it drops in slow motion, allowing you to evade them easily. It would normally be stupidly dangerous to fly this low with so many unexpected obstacles and hazards narrowly missing the ship, but considering what you’re flying into, a few boulders seems comical.

“Where’s your helmet?” Oshua asks out of nowhere, and for a second, you don’t think you heard him correctly.

But then it strikes you all at once what he’s attempting to imply, and the sheer lunacy of the thought is enough to make you laugh while you clutch the controls. “I’m not a Mandalorian.”

“You wear the armor of one,” he points out… rather fairly, you have to admit. “You cover your face like one. You have a blaster that fires Philithiorium, a rare and expensive gas native to Mandalore’s stratosphere, and you’re a bounty hunter—”

“I’m not a Mandalorian.” Your words are short and cutting, you have a daunting task to focus on and don’t feel like having small talk right now. “I’m not a bounty hunter, either.”

But then again, Karga made you a member of the Guild, didn’t he? He handed you Oshua’s puck and said this one is for you to find, and you are technically part of a Mandalorian clan. All of this seems like it happened without your knowledge. You may be marrying a Mandalorian, you may wear his armor and mother his child and shoot a blaster with his signet branded into it, but war isn’t in your blood. This robe was a costume when you first made it, this armor was a relic that was restored as a hobby. In a sense, it still feels that way. The mask covering your face lended itself to a temporary surge of bravery earlier, but beyond that, the only thing that’s keeping you moving forward now is your family. The man you love that may or may not be alive right now, the baby holding tight to your leg while the ship sways and weaves through the stony landscape.

Your eyes quickly flick down to the child in your lap, both of his three fingered hands clutching onto the stained fabric of your knee without moving a single inch. He’d know, you tell yourself. If his father is gone, he’d already know somehow. Din is still alive, and he’s counting on you.

---

There’s too many for Din to handle.

They swarmed him, overpowered his endless artillery with massive numbers and there’s nothing he can do anymore. The backs of his knees are kicked from behind and he slams down to the ground with a clatter, his sizzling hot blasters are ripped from him, and Din folds his hands calmly behind his back even as one of the stormtroopers barks out, “Binders,” to another one, who disappears quickly in response. In the meantime, a few of them apparently decide to just attempt holding his arms in place, and their measly combined grip is almost enough to make him roll his eyes under the helmet. These imperial soldiers are even more pitiful than they usually are, but his silent resolve to stall to ensure your escape is enough to keep him stationary and compliant for the time being.

Eventually, a few voices call out from beyond the crowd and there’s some movement from the back. Dozens of troopers with their blasters all pointed at him begin to shuffle to make way, careful to keep their barrels aimed at him while a path slowly forms. The crowd of white parts and a stormtrooper with a singular red pauldron on his right shoulder saunters confidently towards Din as he kneels on the ground.

An officer, he assumes. Conveniently missing from the firefight, the scanner inside his helmet would’ve caught the change in color and Din would’ve made sure to kill him first.

“Well now, what do we have here?” Comes his thin metallic voice through the tinny filter. The officer studies him curiously for a few moments, before slowly looking down by his feet, reaching out one cheap, plastic covered foot to gently nudge the body of a dead trooper on the ground with a sigh. “What a shame.”

Coward, he thinks, his lip curling with disgust under the helmet.

“This is an imperial training base,” he turns his attention back to Din to inform him when he doesn’t immediately respond, rather stupidly he might add. “How were you able to find us?”

Silence. The grip on hands held behind his back is even looser now. He just tilts his chin up slightly in defiance, the scanner inside his helmet locating each weapon strapped to the man’s body and highlighting it red. Small text boxes blink into existence under each one with a manufacturer and classification—a BlasTech E-11 rifle, a Merr-Sonn thermal detonator, a Kolvo vibroblade—and Din is severely unimpressed with the quality. The detonator is the only weapon that even catches his eye, and that’s only because the chamber inside that houses the explosive baradium has a release mechanism that’s completely dead. Useless, then. Good to know.

After a long moment of quiet tension where Din refuses to speak and the officer continues to confidently scrutinize him, in some strange sort of silent battle of egos that only one seems to have a genuine interest in, another stormtrooper makes his way to the front, shoving past his fellow soldiers to address the superior in charge.

“Commander, we’ve sent out an alert for an intruder,” he tells him, slightly out of breath from running through the crowd in the lightweight armor. Din wants to roll his eyes, but what he says next makes him snap to immediate attention. “The fleet informed us that Moff Gideon is currently on route.”

Gideon. The last time someone spoke that name, it was a quarry on Coruscant and you just barely managed to stop Din from suffocating the bastard for even saying it aloud before freezing him in carbonite. It would’ve meant half the return on a hunt that lasted nearly a month but he saw red and his hand was crushing his windpipe before he realized what happened. But he’s dead, Din thinks with a clenched jaw and fists tightening behind his back, he watched that TIE fighter explode and slam into the ground, crushing the man inside it. The wreck was unsurvivable, he can’t be alive.

“For what? This Mandalorian?” The trooper in charge scoffs in response, and Din remains completely mute.

“Yes, sir,” the other one confirms. “Orders were to capture him, alive.”

“Hm.” The officer turns his attention back to him, less analyzing and more musing while he tilts his head. “I see,” he eventually says, and he sounds like he’s grinning, before strolling slightly closer as Din stays completely still on his knees. “He must want the beskar. I’m sure it’s worth more than this entire battalion combined.”

All of a sudden, a gloved hand carelessly catches the rim of his helmet and tugs, and Din’s movement is explosive. He launches off the ground, arms easily slipping from the pathetic grip they were being held in and his fist colliding with the side of the officer’s flimsy white helmet, the plastic making a deafening crack against his face.

Multiple hands immediately rush forward to grab him and yank him back down again while the commanding trooper stumbles backwards in shock, and Din amicably drops to his knees and folds his hands behind his back once more like nothing happened at all.

“Binders!” A trooper behind him roars loudly once more, and a few men surrounding him begin trotting away this time.

The officer in red stands a few feet away from him now, grabbing his helmet and twisting it back to its proper position on his head where it was skewed. There’s a shattered hole near his jaw where the material splintered and busted like the cheap piece of banthashit it is, and while he might normally feel pleased with himself for being able to see his skin peeking through, it just fills him with more righteous fury. It’s such a punchable jaw.

After a few awkward moments of silence, the other one clears his throat and continues. “He… has inquired about the location and status of a child that should be accompanying him.”

Din inhales deeply through his nose and grinds his teeth. He wants to snap their necks one by one for even just mentioning his son, but there are just too many, more than even his whistling birds can neutralize. Still, he gave you as much of a head start as physically possible. You should be rising into the atmosphere right now, making the jump into hyperspace towards safety. Karga will know what to do—he’ll protect his family, separate you and the boy so the threat is evenly dispersed instead of collected all in one place, and arm dozens of trained hunters to keep watch over you both individually. It’s the best Din can do, and it’s the only thing keeping his knees planted on the ground and his body completely motionless while they continue speaking.

“We are combing the sector for a ship with as many men as we can afford to lose,” the trooper in red says, but his voice filter is shattered and now sounds like a puny little droid with a broken voice box, “but our numbers are unimpressive. Assistance may be required.”

It’s too late, Din thinks, mouth twitching under the beskar with a satisfied smirk. They’re wasting their time, looking for a ghost. You’re both long gone by now. They’ve got no idea you even exist—

“He also spoke of a girl.”

And then he feels his heart stop in his chest. Every single cell in his body turns to fire, it’s a fucking miracle he doesn’t move a muscle in response. His sweet girl, the one so far removed from the nightmare of the Empire that she made best friends with the orphans of it. How the fuck did he know? He shouldn’t even be breathing, let alone gathering information about you, how did he know?

But then Din thinks back, remembering your makeshift bed on the floor, your panicked eyes and heaving chest as the quarry taunted him with a sick little smile. Who’s this, Mando? She’s just darling, isn’t she? Does Gideon know your crew has a lovely new addition?

“A girl?”

The trooper nods. “Moff Gideon insisted that if the Mandalorian did not have a child with him, then a girl would likely be protecting him instead.”

He’s going to kill them, Din decides. Every single one of these imperial pigs, every single soldier standing right now is a dead fucking man. The blood pumping through his body suddenly turns to acid, deadly black hate poisoning his soul. His heartbeat morphs into a war drum, the armor strapped to his limbs is the barrel of a gun. He’s going to fucking kill them and leave an imperial base full of bodies to greet his old nemesis upon his return, and he’s going to enjoy every single second of it.

Except, then—

“Mando?” The sweetest voice in existence suddenly crackles through the earpiece under his helmet. “I’m coming to get you. Less than a minute to your location, do everything you can to get outside. If you can’t, I’ll just… uh. Figure something else out.”

And, as Din kneels there in surrender, surrounded by a crowd of enemies he thought he destroyed long ago, all the anger—all the fury and defiance and murder surging through his veins—suddenly morphs to fear.

The emotion is so foreign and old to him, it feels like a face he barely recognizes and a name he can’t remember. He’s panicked before. He’s been in situations where a threat has made him blind with rage, he knows what it’s like to look death straight in the eyes and say that he’s busy and to come back another time. This is different. This is ice cold that freezes over beskar.

He can’t speak out loud to warn you—he can’t move his hands to press the button on the back of his helmet and allow him to talk without detection. There’s plasma turrets on the roof of the base, he can see them right now. The helmet’s scanners say they’re manned and engaged, and though he is outside and this is how you retrieved him before whenever he needed a quick escape, he has fifty fucking imperial blasters trained on him and you know absolutely nothing about this threat. You’re flying right into a war zone and if either you or his son dies, he won’t ever be able to forgive himself.

Behind the helmet, his eyes fly to each and every trooper, wondering which blaster will be the one to do it. Which weapon is going to be the one he can’t block in time when you descend, the one that’ll kill him right in front of you. Which turret will be the one to obliterate the Crest with you and his son inside of it.

“Maker, where are those fucking binders—” he hears someone behind him snarl, but the white noise of pure terror roaring through his ears drowns them out. His chest starts heaving against his will, sheer panic begins to blur his vision. For the first time in his life, his armor feels too heavy, his lungs feel like one of these boulders are sitting on them instead of beskar.

All too soon, his helmet starts making a familiar sound that signals quietly in his ear, alerting him of an incoming ship, and the only thing he can physically do is count down the seconds to prepare himself for what is to come.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two…

Like lightning, Din breaks the grip of multiple troopers and surges up, tackling the officer in red to the ground. There’s a clatter as they both slam into the rocky floor, but in the ensuing scuffle, he easily snatches the thermal detonator from his side holster and holds it up for everyone to see, before pressing the red button on the front and hearing it begin to beep rapidly.

---

You’re right on time.

The Crest rises up through the rocky cliffs surrounding the base and you spot the turrets you were warned about. Weapons controls are already engaged and you’re too low to be detected by radar—you fire once, twice, and blast both of them to smithereens from behind before they can even rotate around to target you.

Alarms start wailing but the guns are destroyed. It’s not comforting, though; blasters won’t touch you up here, but that doesn’t mean they can’t fire at Din on the ground. Your eyes dart across the sea of white, looking for a flash of silver anywhere, and then you spot him instantly in the chaos.

For some reason, the troopers in his vicinity all seem to be bolting away from him. Their rifles are down, clutched in their hands while they nearly fall over each other to run away as fast as possible, and your heart soars when you spot his jetpack firing up. Din launches into the sky while another trooper is revealed underneath him, seeming to juggle something in his hands and then throw it into the crowd of retreating soldiers, but the sight of the man you love rising into the air while a flurry of blaster shots from the far edges of the imperial structure follow him gives you the confidence to immediately turn the guns down towards the horde of troopers.

“Which ones are in charge?” You ask Oshua breathlessly, who leans forward and points out the transparisteel.

“Red pauldrons—” he barely has time to say it before you aim and fire at one of the troopers wearing red that was closest to Din, the plasma beam launching from the Crest so powerful and devastating that it outright obliterates the surface he’s laying on. Pieces of shattered armor fly and a smoking crater of rubble is all that’s left behind, but your mind is whirling and you’re already onto someone else wearing red at the edges of the complex, and then two more near the doors, and then another—

To their credit, you think the sixty or so soldiers in training seem to figure out that you’re not aiming into the enormous collection of them. If you were, the damage would be catastrophic and spraying everywhere, but you’re precise and meticulous with your shots, and the only ones who are loyal enough to the cause to hold still and raise their blasters at the incoming threat tend to be the ones you need to mow down anyways. The rest of them scatter in all directions, scrambling over each other to escape and then disappearing into the distant boulders surrounding the base—but you notice that not a single one of them runs back inside the safety of its open doors.

The hull dips with the weight of Din dropping in, and relief floods your soul even as you continue raining hell down on the superiors in charge. Any flash of color you see is a target, your eyes lose focus of everything, your vision blurs and turns monochrome as you just search for red.

“Lift up!” You hear Din’s voice roar from the hull. You can hear his rifle unloading through the open door. “Now! We have to go now!”

You press the button to shut the hull door with Din inside and punch it, rising so fast that the shove of gravity makes it difficult to keep your head up. Through the sudden surge of downward force, you just barely manage to raise your incredibly heavy arm to push the button that pressurizes the Crest and ignites the launch boosters, preparing the vessel for space travel. Outside the transparisteel, the gray sky begins darkening as the atmosphere eventually disappears. The ship’s engines roar, burning so much fuel at once that you’re actually accelerating through the climb, you’re boosting through the gradual ease of gravity as the planet’s curvature and glow becomes softer and softer below you.

As soon as the blackness of space begins to fill the windows, the slight subsiding of force allows you to plug in the coordinates for Nevarro with less difficulty, but you’re still moving, still rising, still escaping. You can’t find it within yourself to slow down, but then something catches your attention.

Claws suddenly dig sharp into your thigh, sharp enough to sting and cause you to wince, and you look down to see that the kid has gone incredibly tense. Deadly tense. Your heart is still pounding even though you’re away from danger, you’ve got Din in the hull, everyone is safe, and yet—

It flickers into existence all at once. One second it’s just space, just the endless depths of nothingness spread out for light years in front of you, and within the blink of an eye it’s suddenly there.

A star destroyer.

Your body freezes in horrified awe, having never seen a ship so fucking big in your entire life. It looks like a massive satellite, the size of an enormous asteroid instantly appearing in your vision and dwarfing the vastness of space around it. All the stars you used to dream about are suddenly blotted out within a fraction of a second, terror so immense seizes your soul that you stop thinking. You stop calculating, you stop being yourself for a split second that lasts an entire lifetime.

Before you can move a single muscle, the computer beeps quickly and lurches the Crest into hyperspace.

---

The stars streak across the transparisteel like so many times before. Utter silence nearly deafens you with how abrupt it is after so much noise, but the peace it used to bring does nothing to quell your fear. Everything is the same as it always was, same bursts of light as you hurdle faster than it towards Nevarro, same quiet, same rumbling hum of the ship. But now, everything has changed.

You hear the quarry next to you suddenly inhale and exhale loudly, and it shocks you a little bit, reminds you that there’s a person next to you and another is on your lap. Other people exist outside of the vision of death that just flickered out of existence just as quickly as it appeared. They’re breathing, Oshua is shakily unbuckling his seatbelt, life is continuing on in the quiet cockpit but you can’t seem to move like he is. You can’t seem to breathe like he is. It’s only when the baby slowly maneuvers himself around on your thigh and blinks up at you, placing a tiny hand on your stomach that you finally feel air enter your lungs.

After a moment, you reach down and click open your seatbelt with trembling fingers, scooping the kid up in your arms and slowly attempting to stand. Everything feels wobbly and dreamlike, you have to brace yourself on the headrest to prevent yourself from falling back into the chair again.

“That was…” Ryler mutters, his voice sounding foggy and distant, “uh. A close one.”

You look over at him, recognizing that he’s speaking but not quite able to understand the words right now. Red catches in your vision, and you blink down at the way he’s clutching his left shoulder, the smear of blood darkening the white armor he’s wearing. You blink a few more times at the sight of it, and though it feels like you normally would be sickened at the wound, somehow shocked out of your state of shock, it does nothing to you. When you look back up at his face, his expression seems strangely grateful, even when it’s screwed up in what you know must be excruciating pain. You did that, a quiet voice whispers in your mind, even though the rest of it seems incredibly blank.

Instead of responding, you stumble a few steps over to the ladder, spinning around and hesitating for a moment. You’re severely lacking in coherent thought, but one thing seems to break through. You’re not sure if you have enough coordination to do this safely right now. However, when there’s movement in your peripheral and you look to see Oshua gently offering his right arm to you, seeming to understand you’d like to use both hands for this, you snap back to your senses just the slightest bit and hug the baby tighter to your chest. Carefully, you begin making the slow climb down the ladder with the kid, still trembling with the aftershocks of adrenaline. Your limbs feel extra heavy, but eventually the floor meets your feet.

Din is standing there when you slowly turn around, armor gleaming and still as a statue, but he has his back to you. His helmet is tilted down at the ground, and when you follow his gaze, you’re met with the sight of the bloodstains of dragged bodies that leave dark red streaks all the way up the ramp.

You feel something this time. It’s… cold. A burning, searing cold that creeps into your skin. Like your heart decides to pump nitrogen through your chest instead of warm blood. You did that.

There’s a sudden urge inside of you to speak, to address him and inform him of your presence, tell him everything is okay, everything worked out, but you can’t find it in yourself to say a single word. You can’t find a single word to say. The kid twists as best he can in your clutch, his ears drag against your chest to greet his father, but for some reason, there’s still a strange sense of fear in your bones. It’s enough to wake you up slightly, it’s enough to tell you it’s not over yet. There’s a terror in your heart that hasn’t left since he first called over the comm and begged you to run, a crippling dread that you thought climaxed after seeing that star destroyer appear, but it’s somehow only increased after laying eyes on him like this.

You watch as his helmet turns, slowly meeting the pauldron on his shoulder, and for some reason, you feel yourself harden. Your feet brace against the metal floor like this is another threat you have to face, you let its unyielding metallic strength transfer up through the souls of your boots to your heart in your chest.

But the second you hear cheap white armor clatter as the quarry steps down the ladder behind you, Din bursts into movement. He suddenly spins and storms up to you in one single step while catching your holstered blaster on your hip. It’s out and aimed in the blink of an eye, and it’s a miracle you remember how to speak before he remembers how to kill.

“Mando—” you warn, just in time for the quarry to land on the floor of the hull and turn around to reveal his face.

Din holds there for a second, his helmet locked on Oshua’s features. His gloved fingers twitch wildly on the trigger of your gun held over your shoulder, like he has to remind himself multiple times not to. You hear Oshua’s armor clack while he likely raises one good arm in surrender, but then Din’s helmet moves a fraction of a millimeter to your face and holds there. He just stares down at you, and the air feels heavy, your body feels heavy, the feather light child in your arms feels heavy.

Slowly, he lowers his arm, lets it fall while he continues looking at you from behind the visor. You look back at him, unblinking, unfeeling, and there’s a few seconds that last an utter eternity where nobody moves. Nobody speaks, nothing happens, but then a soft coo comes from your arms before you can finally break eye contact, knowing there are still some things that need to be done.

You eventually turn around and lift your chin to address Oshua.

“You have to go into carbonite,” you inform him quietly. Your voice sounds strange, like it’s coming from outside of yourself. “We’re taking you to Nevarro, and then you’ll be transported to your home planet. When they unfreeze you, your sister will be there to collect you.”

He looks uncertain, one hand still raised while the other hangs uselessly at his side, and you don’t blame him.

But you also don’t feel like saying anymore, not unless he decides he doesn’t want to go in willingly. Normally you might’ve tried to empathize, offer him further reassurance beyond just a couple short sentences, but you don’t. Speaking feels difficult, thinking feels difficult. You’re still in survival mode, not active but reactive. There’s also no reason for you to lie to him about this, and you can see him glance at Din standing silently behind you, who hasn’t moved a muscle.

He eventually nods and you walk him over to the chamber without another word, watch him turn to face you as he backs into the opening while you reach up towards the control panel.

But then there’s a moment. One where you hesitate slightly, one where your vision flashes back to the sight of those bloodstains on the floor, and that burning cold fills you again, so cold it feels completely numb.

“I’m… sorry,” you whisper quietly to him, though your voice sounds so empty. There’s so much emotion that should be there but isn’t, so much regret and pain that should break through but can’t. “I’m sorry I… killed your friends.”

Later, you’ll think about how you felt absolutely nothing saying it. Your heart doesn’t constrict with remorse at the mere words leaving your mouth, guilt doesn’t flood into your soul, pain doesn’t wrack through your bones. You could’ve been saying anything at all and nobody would be able to tell the difference.

He blinks at you, flicking his eyes between yours for a second or two, but then you press the proper button and watch the gas quickly freeze him where he stands. He’ll be conscious the entire time, but Karga will send him to the correct location and you have no doubt that this elemental purgatory is leagues better than where he just escaped from. It’s a benefit being the last quarry to be retrieved—he’ll only have to spend a few days trapped in here before being reunited with his family.

When that’s done and Oshua is a complete statue in front of you, bulky white armor now colored a dull metallic gray and frozen in time, you will yourself to finally turn around to face the enormous mountain of a presence behind you. The baby gently reaches out for him, but Din doesn’t move from where he’s stood. Your blaster is still clutched tightly in his hand, and he isn’t looking at you.

Slowly, you walk over and stop directly in front of him in the middle of the hull, blinking at him while the helmet subtly moves to lock onto your face. The kid begins wiggling in your arms, making soft impatient noises while you both stand in complete silence across from each other.

After a few moments, you hear him flick your blaster’s safety on by his side and then toss it carelessly to the ground. It skids along the floor, light enough to be mostly quiet. Gloves reach out as he carefully takes the kid from you and settles him in the crook of one arm, and then he looks you up and down, still not saying anything.

Your eyes follow his movement, watching his arm slowly reaching out to you, and you think he’s going to cup your jaw, or brush your hair back. Give you some sort of physical reassurance since he hasn’t spoken a single word of it.

Instead, Din suddenly grabs the armor clinging to your chest and starts ripping it off you with one hand. It clangs to the floor so loudly in the silence of hyperspace, the kid’s ears twitch and flutter with each shattering bang. You hold still while he does it, you barely respond except the unavoidable movement your body experiences as the pauldron is yanked from your shoulder and thrown against the ground. The ammo belt is tugged over your head and hurled away, the thigh braces are snatched from your legs and they clang to the floor, and the pearly, opalescent fabric revealed underneath is stained in dead man’s blood, rusty and in such great quantities that it shows up as brown instead of red.

“Are you hurt?”

He sounds… dead. So monotonic that you can’t possibly gauge his emotional state. He doesn’t move. His fists don’t clench, he says every single word like it means the same exact thing as the last. If nothing at all was a person who could speak, they’d use his tone of voice.

“No,” you eventually whisper.

The helmet nods once, and then he spins around and walks away without anything else. Without saying anything, without touching you, or double checking you for injuries in case you were lying. You stand utterly still while Din climbs the ladder with the kid cradled in one arm, and you don’t even flinch when the door to the cockpit slides shut behind him. You have no idea how long you stand there in the splitting silence afterwards, numb and unmoving.

You feel… nothing. Absolutely nothing.

The hard defenses you strapped to yourself today to reconcile the things you had to do are still high and strong, guarding your soul even if he stripped away your physical armor. Self preservation is still animating your body, and your facial expression barely changes. Your first thought, as soon as you remember that you can have one, is that there are things that still need to be done. Tasks to complete.

Alone, you shower the lingering traces of blood off your body, the normally clear and refreshing water running a sickly, toxic brown. Alone, your stomach rolls and suddenly decides to empty itself of the very little that was in it as the scalding drops rain down over you—mostly liquid and bile that easily rinses down the drain. The water is too warm, it beats down on you like blazing hot sand pelting your skin in the desert. You feel like you did those first few months with Din, where the silence was suffocating, where you’d only interact with the baby if he was on a hunt or if you could tell he didn’t know how to calm him when he was fussy. If you were in hyperspace, you usually spent time by yourself in the hull while he lived in the cockpit, and if he decided he needed to be in the hull for whatever reason, then you’d trade places with him. It was… isolating. Lonely by yourself. The quiet used to haunt you before it became your cherished friend, but now it’s a betrayer, a ghost that whispers memories and nightmares in your ears.

When you finally finish rinsing the blood from your skin and get dressed, you see the sheets that used to make up your bed now have fried holes in them from your charred plasma marks, the inside of the hull is covered in them and the trails of dried blood where you dragged the bodies down the ramp. Your armor is still strewn about the hull, the kid’s hovering shield lays dead in the corner. Everything you meticulously cleaned and organized and collected and created, now the scene of a bloodbath. One committed by your hand, your blaster still laying uselessly on the floor forever linked to this atrocity.

You spare a glance towards the ladder, but you don’t want to come face to face with Din yet. You already knew he’d be furious, but… you had hoped that he’d at least…

What? At least what? Comfort you? Coddle you after you deliberately ignored his instructions? What exactly, in the past year or so of learning Din’s inner workings and intricacies, would ever give you the impression that he’d come give you a big hug after you purposefully defied him? You flew the kid directly into an imperial base after being told to protect him, you ignored every order he gave to you in the moments he thought would be his last, and though you did it to save his life, you have a feeling that Din has never valued his life even a fraction of what you do.

The misery stabs at your soul, but your mind is finally beginning to process things logically. He’s alive, the kid is alive, the quarry is secure, and you’re all onboard the safety of this ship hurtling through hyperspace where nobody, not even the Empire, can touch you. You weighed the consequences before making your decision, you did what you had to do. If he wants to be mad, then he can fucking well be mad and you’ll find some way to comfort yourself. At least he’s here being mad, at least he’s alive and safe and breathing and mad, and your rare act of disobedience is to thank for that.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize it’s probably easier than it should be to reconcile the punishment. Right now, you welcome the exclusion, the negativity and sorrow beating itself into your soul. Four innocent people died today on this ship, gunned down under your blaster while they panicked and ran for cover. You keep hearing their screams.

So you start to clean up the hull, needing another task to focus your thoughts on. You work to erase every inch of the evidence of your deeds, make it disappear like the pool of blood Din once cleaned up while you were sleeping and never acknowledged again. You only allow the bloodstains to fuck with your head for a single moment, and then you swallow back the nausea until you’re a blank slate again and sink to your knees with a rag in your hand. After that, your vision stops focusing and it just becomes red contrasting against gunmetal gray, and you work tirelessly to get rid of all remaining traces of it.

Then you start on the blaster marks, you need them gone. After a few informed attempts at mixing cleaning chemicals, you find one concoction that allows you to wipe them away like they’re nothing more than dirt that got tracked in. The Crest’s oxygen recycling system works overdrive to constantly purify the air so you don’t get high or pass out, but your nose still stings. It’s fine, it’s sterile, it burns a bit but it smells sharp and metallic and keeps you hyper focused on the task at hand.

After that’s done, you pick up the charred blankets and ball them up to throw into the trash vent. You don’t feel anything as you do it. You don’t think about how long it took you to collect these over months and months of being stuck on this ship, how comfortable they were when everything else was industrial and rigid, how many nights you spent with Din curled up in their softness while he breathed easy and warm. Sheets are just luxuries, they can afford to be lost.

Next, you gather your armor and wipe it down with the rag, put it away along with your blaster. The stained robe goes in the trash, along with the sheets and the blood soaked cloth you used to clean everything. They’re all ruined, you’ll never be able to make them right again.

The hull is sparkling clean when you decide to take another shower. Nothing on you is dirty except your hands, but you feel filthy. Wrong, cold, numb, cold, stained, cold.

After scrubbing your skin raw under the water and changing clothes again, since you don’t really know what to do with yourself anymore, you slowly climb the ladder to the cockpit, keeping perfectly silent. When you reach the upper platform and come face to face with the closed door, you can just barely hear Din’s whispered voice speaking quietly to the baby beyond it.

You raise your hand for a moment, hovering your knuckles over the metal, but then it eventually falls. Instead, you look over and spot the corner, the same corner Din bunched himself into when he snapped at you for even suggesting going on a hunt with him, blew up at you for the mere notion of something happening like what happened today. You back yourself into it in defeat and slowly sink down on the floor, resting your head against the metal and hugging your knees to your chest since you don’t have a tiny baby to take their place.

You can’t sleep. You don’t even try, it’s pointless. The concept feels foreign the longer you sit here by yourself. You don’t hear Din or the baby anymore, but you feel… so fucking awful that it’s fitting that you don’t knock or go looking. You don’t want to hold that sweet child with hands that were covered in blood just a few hours ago. You killed more people than you can count on your fingers today, and of the ones who had done nothing wrong… They screamed like younglings, ducked for cover and were able to fire off one single useless shot in the mayhem before you closed their eyes forever and left their bodies to rot in armor that wasn’t ever their choice to wear.

You didn’t know they were kidnapped and smuggled and forced into that situation. You couldn’t have known, but that isn’t the point. In this case, knowing doesn’t make one bit of difference.

You also can’t face Din yet, not like this. You don’t want him to see you cowering, shattered with guilt over the decisions you made under pressure. How will you ever get him to forgive you for not listening to him when you can’t even forgive yourself for the result of your choices? Din is a hardened man who grew up in blasterfire and bloodshed, just because you love him doesn’t mean he’s going to magically become someone he isn’t. You’re here letting guilt sink sharp claws into your chest over four dead men when he had a good fifty or more corpses scattered on the battlefield around him. You decided to wear that armor, you decided to fly into an imperial base with the kid on your lap, and this is now your penance. You’ll accept it with your back straight and your chin held high.

Figuratively, of course. Physically, you’re smaller than you’ve ever been. Crumpled up into a ball, taking up as little space as possible, curling up as tight as you can like an animal protecting all your vulnerable parts during a brutal attack.

So, since he isn’t here to comfort you himself, you just try to think about what he would tell you. A long time ago, what would he tell you?

Din would tell you… that you killed someone. Multiple people, this time. He’d also tell you that it doesn’t matter what he tells you, what you could have reasonably foreseen or what you should have done. The end result won’t change. You own this now. You’ll carry their deaths with you.

You take a few deep breaths, self-soothing with the undeniable truth that would be murmured matter of factly from his quiet voice. He wouldn’t argue with you. He wouldn’t deny the decisions you made or the consequences of them. It happened, and at the end of the day, you either learn how to handle that, or you don’t.

And, for the four you did shoot, you were responsible for freeing ten times that amount. You’re responsible for reuniting Oshua Ryler with his family, even if your place in yours is momentarily shunned. You’d rather be out here alone than in there with the kid, wondering where his dad is or if he’s even still alive. You rescued Din and now he gets to be here to shut this door on you, hold his son, and whisper calm reassurances to him. If you listen really hard and imagine, you can pretend they’re for you, too.

That’s it. Focus on them both, alive and well together. Focus on the bodies wearing white armor that were moving, the ones that were bolting away from the imperial training base as fast as they could, free from the torture of imprisonment and conditioning.

Finally, you close your eyes and slip into unconsciousness. It’s not a testament to your exhaustion, but rather just how long you’ve been left to sit here by yourself. Hours, maybe. Time is strange in hyperspace.

You dream of a faceless man ringing bells.

---

When you wake up, a small baby has been placed in your arms, and you’re being dragged into a strong, secure beskar hold on the floor.

“Din,” you suddenly lift your head as soon as you’re conscious and nearly bonk it into solid metal, apologies rising in your throat before you even remember where you are. You did what needed to be done to keep your family alive and together and you’d do it a thousand times again if necessary, but that doesn’t mean you won’t apologize anyways. After the deeds you’ve committed today, regret feels as natural on your lips as speaking your own name. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know you’re mad at me but I—”

“Shh,” he whispers, running his gloves through your hair. He’s still wearing his helmet, he hasn’t taken anything off yet. “Don’t say anything. Just… stay here, stay right here with me.”

“I tried to save you,” you croak, tears instantly flooding your eyes. You did save him. You saved him and the baby and yourself but you’re so physically and emotionally exhausted that all you can recall is your intent. “I tried. Wasn’t gonna leave you there by yourself. I tried to be brave, like you—y-you wouldn’t have left without me.”

His arms tighten around you, cradling you in such a strong embrace that you burrow into him, you find a place for your head on the hard metal strapped to him and bury yourself there, wishing that you had shovels of dirt being piled on you to justify the death you still feel staining your soul. Your heart is starting to pound now that you’re remembering, your body is starting to shake with tremors of shock now that you’re aware of your own skin again.

“I was so sc-scared, Din, I didn’t—didn’t know what was happening,” you lament through watery eyes, gasping it out in hopes that it’ll relieve the slightest bit of the gut wrenching guilt just mercilessly crushing you. It caught you before you could protect yourself against it, that armor you built around yourself isn’t on when you first wake up. “I-I didn’t want to kill them, but they were already on the ship and y-you said—you said they were coming after the kid s-so I had to, I had to—”

“Stop,” Din whispers, voice so quiet that you can barely hear him.

“I-I cleaned up the blood,” you turn your face against the cold beskar to let all the positives you listed for yourself before scrape across your throat. They don’t sound comforting anymore, they just sound like excuses. “It’s gone, it’s like it never happened, everything is okay now, I got the quarry, I protected the baby, I saved a bunch of people, you’re both safe—”

“Stop,” he chokes out. The modulator cuts off before you can hear his next breath, but you feel it shudder under your body. “St-Stop it, please.”

Your eyes clench shut so tightly you feel like the streaking stars outside are behind them, tears drop down against his pauldron and you press your face tighter to it like it’s a wound, like the pressure will somehow ease the bleeding.

“Listen to me,” he says very quietly, and you instantly brace yourself. The walls you just let down shoot right back up, your body physically tightens in preparation for another pain, another trauma, another scar you’ll carry, and you stop shaking. You stop breathing, even when his hand comes up to ease your face away from his armor.

“You,” he whispers, holding your chin so you’re staring right at him, and your eyes flick fearfully in between his behind the visor, “are a sweet girl.” Din’s leather thumb brushes along your skin, dragging over the tears below your puffy eyes. “Not,” his voice catches, “a Mandalorian.”

Your heart goes cold. Again, everything turns numb. It doesn’t matter that you already said this yourself out loud earlier today. It doesn’t matter that you acknowledged this fact, verbally insisted it more than once to hammer home the truth and felt some sense of comfort in it. For some reason, hearing the words from his mouth is a fucking knife to your chest.

“I taught you how to fight, how to shoot a blaster,” he murmurs, thumb catching every single tear that continues to fall as he speaks. “I taught you everything I know, everything that’s been taught to me. I taught you how to defend yourself, how to protect yourself when you’re in danger. I gave you your blaster, I gave you my armor, I gave you everything I could give you to keep you safe. And when I thought you were ready, I let you loose on Sanctuary II. Do you know why I did that?” The helmet tips forward the slightest bit at the question, probing deep into the most shattered part of your heart. “After all those months of fighting, and shooting, and training, do you know why I told you to run?”

You blink silently at him, a shaky breath quaking through you, and your expression wants to crumple under the reprimand. You’re so fragile right now, taking hit after hit after hit to the softest parts inside you, and you want to just give up. Let the guilt and remorse take you, let it wash you away. But then, instead…

There’s a flicker of something inside you. Something strong, endlessly strong, and it makes you want to revolt against what he’s saying. It replaces the hurt and fear and desperation for comfort with a strange sense of insurgence, like it did earlier when you were hiding behind a boulder, cowering and trembling and not wanting to die. You’re filled with a quiet urge to defend yourself in the face of this, stand up for yourself and refuse to be beaten down any longer.

“Because you needed to know how to escape danger,” he answers himself when you don’t. “You needed to know how to disappear, how to outsmart any pursuer and find safety, even the trained ones. Especially the trained ones. Anything else was meant to be your last resort. Not your choice. Not something you chose.”

“I couldn’t leave you,” you admit to him quietly, voice shaky and tears still coming even as you try to speak up for yourself. The regret you carry has nothing to do with this, and you decide right now that you won’t feel bad for saving him. Your hurt comes from the meaningless things, the ones without any need whatsoever, not the necessary ones, and you tried. You repeated his words to yourself over and over again, told yourself to run, told yourself to get to Nevarro, and it wasn’t going to happen. “I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t a choice.”

“It was,” he tells you. He says it softly, whispers it like it’s the gentlest thing in the world, but the power and inherent distance of the armor strapped to his body finds its way into the words. “And it was the wrong one.”

“What was I supposed to do?” You ask, just a hint of that rebellion swimming to the surface now, rising out of the waves of self doubt, the one that feels like a spine growing in your back, an energy coursing through your veins that makes your heart start to beat faster. Din’s hand slowly drops from your cheek but you don’t care. “Was I supposed to run away and just let you die?”

“Yes.” It’s quick and blunt and completely emotionless. Delivered like a punch to the vulnerable parts of yourself he taught you how to protect, and the utter silence following this single word is comparable to the physical pain you learned to defend against. It jabs hard against everything good and sweet and tender inside of you, and you’re left speechless even as he continues impassively. “That’s exactly what you were supposed to do.”

It takes a second, but then that unfamiliar feeling suddenly surges up, breaches with the power of an entire ocean. Your voices may be nothing more than whispers in the dark, you may be clinging to each other, holding each other with the softest, gentlest love in your hearts, but the strength of your conviction on this would rip metal apart.

“No.” The word holds the might of your entire being, and it stands alone and defiant in the face of everything you fear, everything that threatens you, him, and this child. Never. You’ll die before that happens. “I love you, and there’s nothing in this galaxy that would ever make me do that. Not fear, not danger, not the Empire, nothing. Not even you.”

Din stares at you. His visor reflects your hardened expression back to you, the force in your soul and the purpose in your eyes, and you don’t even realize the gravity of what you just said because like your love for him, gravity is a constant. It’s a fundamental truth cemented into the rules that govern your actions and it stays true no matter where you are, no matter what terror you face, or how scared you become. You have him, you have this little boy in your arms, and if that’s all you have, then you have everything.

After an eternity of this, of feeling his eyes pierce deep into you from behind the helmet while you refuse to wither under his stare, you watch him slowly turn and look down, landing on the sleepy child tucked between you both. He holds there for a long time, before finally whispering, so quiet that the modulator barely picks it up, “It was the wrong choice.”

You stay quiet. It happened. What’s done is done, you can’t change the past. He can scold and reprimand you about this as much as he wants, but you did the right thing and that decision is the only reason he’s even here to be able to do so. This exhausted child was reunited with his father because of your choices, and this exhausted father was reunited with his child. You won’t argue anymore, but it’s a certitude that lives deep in your heart now, builds a home there right alongside the both of them. Din eventually looks up, his eyes find yours again behind the visor, and his hand rises once more to gently cup your jaw.

“I… thought I’d enjoy seeing you in my armor,” Din finally whispers. It’s not what you expected, but his voice sounds… weak. Broken. “You wore mine once before, and it was…” He brushes his thumb along your cheek, and then his head shakes slightly, pushing the thought away. “It wasn’t real. It didn’t fit. It dwarfed you, it made you look out of place, it made everything soft and innocent about you stand out. I liked it because it wasn’t real.”

“Was it… really that bad?” You whisper back, partially to ease the tension just slightly but quickly breaking eye contact with him when you realize it doesn’t land correctly, it just sounds self conscious and sad. You try to find that conviction again, that strength and assurance that propped you up so sturdily before, but… Not a Mandalorian, he’d said. Of course not. Of course not.

“It wasn’t the armor.” Din gently tugs up on your face so that you look at him again. “It was you covered in blood. It was you purposefully putting yourself in danger. You killed multiple armed soldiers of the Empire, you dragged their bodies off the ship. And then you flew into an imperial base, where you killed the officers, too. You…” He shakes his head slowly at you while speaking, and although you can’t see his face, you don’t need to in order to hear the horror in his voice. “You… collected a quarry… in the middle of a massacre, sweet girl.”

Not a Mandalorian.

“You don’t chase down bounties,” he tells you. “You don’t fly into war zones. You don’t kill imperials, you don’t collect quarries, you don’t sacrifice yourself, or our son, to save me. You said you tried to be brave… like me.” His fingers tighten against your cheek, he dips his helmet to make sure you understand. “I’ll never ask you to be brave. I’ll ask you to survive.”

“I’m… sorry,” you finally whisper, and his arm drops from your cheek to join the other in wrapping around you and holding tight. They hug you and squeeze, encasing you and the baby in a beskar shield and staying there for a long time. Long enough for you to tuck your head back into its proper place under his helmet, long enough to start to feel okay with the silence again. It brutalized you the last time you were surrounded by it, it made you feel alone and desolate and barren inside. You greet it warily now, settling into it for an unknown amount of time until it’s forgiven once more.

After a while, Din quietly breaks it.

“How many?” He murmurs to you. You already know exactly what he’s asking, there's no more clarification necessary on his behalf.

You slowly close your eyes and think back to the smoldering craters, the blood soaked ramp, the fear in Oshua Ryler’s eyes as he begged you not to kill him.

“That didn’t deserve it?” You ask, clenching your eyes tighter at the memory. “Four.”

And maybe, maybe six or eight months ago, you would’ve begged for some guidance on how to reconcile that. Hell, maybe a few hours ago, you could’ve used his arms around you exactly like this, his low voice repeating the same things he’s already told you before, over and over again, if only for some semblance of stability when everything feels turbulent and uncertain. You’ll never be able to change it, though. This belongs to you now.

This time, all Din says is, “I’m sorry, too.”

And that covers everything.

The silence envelops you both again, but… there’s something else. Something that still sits deep in your worries, an image that isn’t a scar of what’s happened but a dread of what’s to come. You need to tell him. You don’t feel like saying it, you don’t want to speak it aloud for fear of bringing it into existence, but you need to tell him.

“Din?” You breathe out, and he makes a soft noise in his throat while cuddling you on the floor. “I saw…,” you whisper, every word sitting tight and reluctant in your throat. “Right when we made the jump, I was looking through the window and I-I saw…”

“A star destroyer.” He says it like… like it’s the worst thing in the world and also completely expected at the same time. He says it like he already knew, yet can’t even imagine. You lean every bit of your weight against him since you can’t hold him in return, squish him as best you can against the small corner and curl up even tighter in his arms for comfort.

He takes a deep breath, a shuddery sound you don’t think you’ve ever heard him make before. It holds untold anxiety, unsaid conflict, uncertain action, an unknown path forward.

“I don’t know what to do,” Din eventually whispers to himself, to you, to the baby in your arms. His voice is barely a breath through the modulator, his fingers digging into your skin with how many emotions he’s repressing. “What do I do?”

He sounds so distressed that you automatically feel your soul find the floor—instantly, you become steady and calm and you locate all that rationality that kept you going today. All your worries still twist deep down, all the guilt and the turmoil wrestles with your soft, easy nature until you can only find bits and pieces of it in the most vulnerable places inside you, but if he’s struggling this terribly, then the least you can do is offer some good, true, unwavering faith in times of uncertainty. You’re in hyperspace, everything worked out, and it’s going to stay that way for right now. If he doesn’t know how to talk about it yet, then you trust him enough to wait for him.

“It’ll be okay,” you tell him with a newfound confidence and purpose, carefully easing the baby into one arm so that the other can find its way to the other side of his helmet and pull him closer. Din tucks his head and allows you to brush your lips against the metal, whisper the words soft and steady to him. “We’ll figure it out together.”

---

@cptnbvcks thank you so much for the incredible art!

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #reader insert #fanfic #star wars #rough day #no-droids

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55sturn · 2 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SWALLOWIN’ MY PRIDE

↳ series masterlist!

↳ summary: in which chris is forced to swallow his pride as he comes to terms with the new that y/n has shared, realizing it’s not just her fault. however when he mentions the alternatives, he fails to see how much it hurts his girlfriend.

↳ pairings: boston bruins player!chris sturniolo x fem!reader!

↳ warnings: swearing, angst, chris not wanting a kid, verbal arguments, big talks about abortions and giving the kid up for adoption, mentions and descriptions of vomiting, a loooot of angst tbh.

↳ important things to note: this is a heavy chapter so please keep that in mind if you choose to keep reading, i’ve done my part and have warned you about what this chapter entails so please do yours and close out of this fic if you cannot handle those topics. i am not your mother i cannot stop you, but if you choose to keep going despite being uncomfortable with the things i’ve warned you about, you are not allowed to get upset with anyone but yourself. enjoy<3

THIRD PERSON POV

chris was left utterly speechless as he stared at the thin plastic stick in his hand. the only thing running through his mind, was “what am i going to do? i just signed the contract today?” he felt guilty being so absorbed in his doubts about his career but it was something he had worked for his entire life. he knew his concerns were selfish, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop worrying about them.

the words “we’re pregnant, chris.” rang in his ears like a bell chiming, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat and he wasn’t able to breathe. he quickly shifted y/n off his lap so he could begin pacing, he held his head in his hands as his skates clunked against the padded locker room floor.

“what the fuck are we going to do y/n?” chris spits, his voice broken and unsteady as he looks at his girlfriend, her eyes red with unshed tears as she shook her head softly and shrugged.

“i don’t know chris.”

“why weren’t you careful?” chris exclaims, unintentionally putting all the blame on her as her head snaps up, her brows furrowed tightly as she breathes out a listless laugh.

“how is this all my fault?”

“i’m not saying it’s your fault. but why didn’t you just get an abortion?”

“in case you forgot what you were taught in fifth grade health class, it takes two people to make a baby, chris. you were the one that wanted to hit it raw and you promised to pull out but clearly you didn’t. and i didn’t want to abort it without your input because this child is half of you, too. and i would not be able to sit through that alone!“ she scoffs, tears dripping down her cheeks as she stares up at him, guilt and regret chipping away at the slight glimmer of hope that chris would be okay with it that she held.

“i just signed a good contract baby, i can’t miss my games for this shit.” chris sighs, his heart rate slowing down, but his mind was still racing, leaving him blind to the internal battle his girlfriend was facing.

he felt sick, he had everything mapped out for the next five years and this baby completely threw a wrench in everything that he had meticulously planned. there was no way a baby this early in his career would look good, it’d make him look reckless and uncaring about his job.

“do you not think i’ve been thinking about that, chris? that’s the only thing i’ve been thinking about since i found out or even had the slightest idea i was pregnant, i have been terrified of derailing the life plans you’ve set up for yourself and i don’t know what the fuck to do but what i do know, is that we’re pregnant and we have to make a decision about this. so until you’ve processed this, you can stay with one of your brother’s, i will be waiting at home.” y/n replies, her voice gradually getting quieter and breaking even more as she finishes. wiping her tears, she quickly exists the room, the need to vomit overcoming her.

her mind wouldn’t stop racing. it brought every possible scenario to the surface and she was beyond scared. what was she going to do? chris sure as hell didn’t seem to want the baby, and she thought she didn’t either but talking about it to chris had her realizing that she wants a family more than anything.

as she knelt in front of the toilet , she couldn’t help but laugh internally. finding out you’re expecting a child was supposed to be a joyous and happy time. finding out that you’re carrying a life that is half of yourself and the person you’re in love with, the person you’re fully committed to for life, was supposed to have you feeling over the moon. and instead, it had y/n’s stomach twisting with guilt, regret, heartache, and distress.

ash she wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet, she sat on the edge of it, letting her tears fall as she let the feelings of hopelessness and loss fully consume her heart. would she really see this pregnancy to term if chris didn’t want anything to do with her and the baby? if she did, would she let chris back into her life when he decides he wants a family? or would he seek a family somewhere else?

“how the fuck am i going to survive this without him?” she whispered to herself, quickly exiting the public washroom and making a beeline for the front entrance.

chris on the other hand, was stoic as stared at the wall opposite of him, the thin plastic stick beside him taunting him and his mind, almost as if it was telling him that he was acting selfishly. instead of comforting his girlfriend, who was as equally terrified of their recent news as chris, if not more? he blamed her. he yelled at her.

he callously told her to abort their baby to be. to get rid of the life growing inside her as if it meant nothing. as if it wasn’t the product of two people that loved each other deeply. even if it wasn’t planned or considered, that child to be was still the result of chris and y/n’s love. of the fact that they held each other so closely that they made love without any preventative measures. but chris couldn’t look at it that way, he didn’t want to.

his focus was on his career, hockey was everything to him. it made him everything he is. but was hockey really the only thing that mattered to chris? as he mulled over the answer, images of y/n sobbing as she held the freshly positive test, of her sobbing and scared in front of him waiting for him to pull her into his arms in the middle of that locker room flash through his mind. he felt guilty, he hadn’t even hugged her as she sobbed, he so badly wishes he could rewind the clock a few minutes so he could react differently but he couldn’t.

he knew he wanted a family at some point in his life, but now? it was so early. he wanted to bask in all the glory of being the newest and youngest star on the bruins without the responsibilities of his personal life hanging over his head. but that wasn’t possible.

as his team made their way down the hall, chris shoved the test into the side pocket of his hockey bag and plastered a fake smile on his face. the team cheered and hollered as they had won the game. chris joined in on the festivities, briefly forgetting the decision he had to make as the team got dressed in their suits and dress clothes, deciding to hit the bar in the lounge above the rink nd celebrate their win and landing bracket in the playoffs.

y/n was in the complete opposite state, she sat at the table, the meal she had prepped hours ago as soon as she got home after leaving the game early sat on the table in front of her. it had grown cold and stale as she tried to bring the urge to eat to life but she couldn’t bear the thought of choking back her food. she hated eating without chris. she knew he wasn’t going to join her after she told him to stay with one his brothers, but out of pure muscle memory she made a plate for him and it sat across the table from her, taunting her, as if to say “this is what your future will look like if chris decides he doesn’t want the baby.” and it broke her heart into a million shards.

could she really handle a life without him? they’ve been together for so long as it is. was it worth it to go through everything that they have already, just for a child to tear them apart? she didn’t know the answer to that and she didn’t want to. she hoped that somehow, chris’ mind would change and he would have this great epiphany and realize he wants this, the family life with y/n.

she knew how important this spot on the bruins’ team was to chris, she knew that more than anybody else. but was it more important than a life with the woman he called his soulmate? was his career more important to him than his relationship?

y/n, truthfully, had began to believe it was. he would call off dates and anniversary dinners to go hang out with the team, he would come home late the nights he promised to be home early. he put so much of their time together on the back burner, and maybe this child was the wake-up call she needed. maybe she wasn’t cut out for the life of dating a superstar hockey player.

sighing, she cleared the plates off, putting the leftovers in an air-tight container and leaving them for her or, hopefully, chris to eat another day. she quickly loaded the dishwasher and started it before cleaning the rest of the kitchen. as she had finished, she flicked off the main kitchen light, leaving the light above the stove on so that when chris came home, if he had made up his mind yet, he wouldn’t be surrounded by complete darkness. but she knew in the back of her mind, chris coming home tonight was just wishful thinking.

as she laid in bed, she scrolled through instagram, chris’ story updates catching her eye. pressing down on his profile circle surrounded by a pinkish purple ring, she was met with the sight of chris and john shot gunning beer in their suits, leaving her slightly hurt that instead of talking about things with her or his brothers he chose to party with his team. she knew that making an appearance at the after parties was important, she had just hoped their situation was more important. but refusing to let herself dwell on what she meant to chris, she rolled over and willed herself to sleep.

it had been a few days since her confession to chris and she had yet to hear even just a single word from him. and the silence was killing her. after her doctors appointment, which confirmed that she was in fact two months along, she had received texts of congratulations and more from his family so she assumed he had said something and maybe he wasn’t completely ashamed of what was happening, but she had a gnawing feeling of doubt in her stomach telling her that wasn’t the case.

“matt i don’t know what to think.” chris sighed, looking to his more level-headed brother for advice in this situation.

“well chris, do you really want her to abort it? like can you live with the fact that you’re putting her through that, you know that she’s completely all for it, but it’s different when it’s the one going through it. so would you be able to live with the fact that you’re pushing her to take away this chance, both of yours and hers, at a family right now?”

“well when you word it that way-“

“and who’s to say that you won’t be looking at having a family the same way down the line if, let’s say, she aborts the baby now and this entire thing happens again? would you put her through it twice? when you could just as easily implement all the later plans with your career that included a family into your plans for now. it would be much easier to maneuver things around right because the ink on your contract has barely dried yet. you do it later down the line and shit could go up in flames. but if you’re still dead set on pushing her to an abortion, by all means do it. it’s up to you man but from the way you’ve talk about it, y/n wants to have a family so what you’re doing is most likely killing her, and if you pushing her to do this wrecks your relationship, you won’t find another girl to love you the way she does. and i know you didn’t actually ask for it, but my opinion is that you’re being a fucking idiot. you and i both know that all you’ve wanted with y/n is to raise a family. you talked about your future kids’ names with her two months into the start of your relationship. so i’m not sure why you’re doing all this shit, chris.” matt rambled, his words cutting directly into the flesh of chris’ heart, he knew matt was right. every word he spoke nothing but truth clinging to it. so why was he putting both him and y/n, mainly y/n, through all of this? sighing, chris nodded and thanked him for the advice before plucking his keys off the counter of matt’s kitchen before heading out the door and climbing into his car.

chris made quick work of driving home to y/n, he felt so unbelievably guilty for leaving her alone with her thoughts for as long as he had. as he stepped into their shared home, he felt like an intruder, he didn’t feel like himself, because in what world would chris, the same chris who is so unbelievably and irrevocably in love with y/n, push her to terminate their child? chris should’ve been ecstatic and sobbing over the news. instead he let his job cloud his judgement and focus, and he felt terrible.

“baby?” chris calls out, quickly climbing the entryway stairs and standing in the main hallway, waiting for y/n to answer.

“in here.” she calls back, her voice tired and strained from all the crying she had done. as chris rounds the corner into their room, his heart breaks at the sight of her curled up on his side of the bed in his hoodie.

“i am so sorry y/n, i’ve been an asshole.”

“i’ll say.” she whispers, shifting back to her side of the bed as chris climbs in beside her.

“i want to apologize for blaming you, it’s not your fault. and for suggesting an abortion without actually hearing what you want. if you want one, i’ll support you. i talked to matt and he made me realize what a jackass i’ve been. if you genuinely want this baby, then i do too. i love you, and i want you to be safe and happy. and if having a family makes you happy, then i’m willing to raise this baby with you because in all honesty, i do want this baby.”

“what about your career?”

“we’ll figure that out when we need to.”

“okay. i love you.”

“i love you forever and a day, y/n. i’m so sorry i’ve been so shitty, i was scared and lashed out on you when i should’ve acknowledged that you were scared too, i shouldn’t have let you deal with it on your own.” chris hums, wrapping his arms around her as she dries her tears and rest her head against his chest.

↳ taglist: @dylsdunbar @verosivy @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @strawberrysturniolo @lustfulslxt @sturnifyed @carolsturns1 @teapartyprincess4two @mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @cutenote @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @33sturniolo @heartz4chris @hearts4chris @evie-sturns @nicksmainbitch @gnxosblog @sturniolopepsi

↳ this story is far from over, let me know if you want a part three <3 there’s gonna be so much angst i actually feel bad which is crazy bc i never feel bad for writing angst

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