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rubysunnday · 2 years

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aching soul

requested by @musicallisto : hi lottie, congrats on 4k - that's INCREDIBLE! You deserve each and every one of those followers, your work is astounding. could I request an anthony bridgerton one-shot with prompt 1 + young and beautiful by lana del rey? I've been missing a little bit of romance lately. thank you sm if you do it! 💜

requested by anon: can i request an anthony bridgerton x reader fic where he thought he absolutely despises her without any clear reasons but it was actually him denying his feelings for the reader?

a/n: she's a long one, folks

summary: There is a difference between Viscount Bridgerton and Anthony Bridgerton. One is a Rake. The other is a man, broken by his father's death, who has never really been able to be just Anthony. Y/N knows the feeling all too well

"We pick in alphabetical order!"

"Which means I'm always going to be last!" Eloise whined, stamping her foot. "Why don't we do youngest to oldest?"

"Because then I'll be last!"

"Enough!" Daphne exclaimed, silencing Anthony. "Since we cannot agree, why don't we let our guest choose first? Miss Elliot?"

Y/N looked at Daphne expectantly. "I am slightly afraid that no matter what I choose I will be starting a war."

"No one will dare complain since you are our most esteemed guest," Daphne said, giving Eloise a pointed gaze. "Please, go ahead."

When the Bridgerton's had, collectively, mentioned a game of pall mall - whatever that was - Y/N was dubious. But at the evil glint in the eye of Lord Bridgerton at his younger brother, Y/N simply had to join in.

Anything to antagonise the viscount.

Y/N hardly knew the man but in the short time she had known him, he'd driven her mad. Perhaps some of Y/N's hatred towards the viscount was because of the assumptions she'd made of the man over the years.

A Capital R rake was never to be trusted. Besides, as she reached her fourth year out in society, Y/N was running out of time to find a husband. She didn't have time to run around flirting and playing with men who weren't ready to commit.

Or men who weren't looking for a love match. Lord Bridgerton.

Y/N stepped forward, looking at the mallets. They were all worn and looked tired after years of use and, presumably, abuse. Her eyes went directly to the black mallet - the only dark colour in the otherwise pastel set. She glanced at Lord Bridgerton and noticed how his gaze was fixed on the mallet.

So, she walked up and pulled it out of the box.

The shocked gasps from the rest of the family and the glare he gave her told Y/N she had, in fact, chosen well.

"Well, would you look at that, brother," Benedict said, grinning at Anthony.

Anthony's jaw was tense. "Shut up."

"Can the rest of us choose now?" Eloise asked, looking around.

No one moved. Then, Eloise darted forward and snatched up the yellow mallet, ignoring Colin's complaints. Benedict snatched the dark blue one whilst Daphne grabbed the purple one. Colin reluctantly took the orange one and, after glaring at it, Anthony took the pink one.

"To the field of combat!" Daphne exclaimed, holding her mallet up high as if it was a sword.

Y/N laughed and followed after them, keen to see the Bridgerton's in action. "I dare say, Your Grace," Y/N said, catching up with Daphne, "I am not entirely sure how to play this game."

"Well, firstly, please call me Daphne. Secondly, if you want my advice," Daphne said, walking alongside Y/N, down to the start of the course, "I'd focus on Eloise. She is so focused on trying to beat her brothers that she will forget we're here. Benedict's aim isn't the best, but he is good at hitting far. Colin is a cheeky player - he will sacrifice his own go to hit someone else's ball."

"And Lord Bridgerton?" Y/N asked, glancing over at Anthony.

"He is a fierce player who does not like to lose. This makes him the perfect target - all it takes is one whack of your ball against his and he will be off his game the rest of the match. He likes revenge."

"I gathered that," Y/N murmured, remembering how much Anthony wanted to murder Colin at the ball a few weeks back.

"I myself will not reveal any secrets," Daphne continued. "But I will say this - Bridgerton pall mall is more about sabotaging your opponent than it is getting the ball through the wickets."

Y/N nodded, smiling. "Understood."

The game started fairly calmly. It wasn't until they got to the sixth wicket did the chaos start. Colin aimed his ball at Eloise's and whacked it, knocking Eloise's ball wide and almost down the hill. Eloise gaped at her brother and nearly swung her mallet at him. Anthony stepped in, a hand on his sister's arm, as she was mid-swing.

Y/N didn't try anything too cheeky until two wickets later. Anthony's ball rolled into her path and Y/N seized her opportunity. She glanced over at Anthony, smirking slightly, as she readied her shot.

Anthony seemed to realise and gasped, turning to her. "Miss Elliot, don't you dare -"

Y/N whacked her ball at Anthony's, sending it flying down the hill and to the lake's edge. She laughed, swinging her mallet around in delight as Colin and Benedict chuckled evilly at their brother's misfortune.

"Excellent shot, Miss Elliot!" Benedict said, beaming. He patted Anthony on the back. "Well, I guess we shall see you later, brother. Daff, your turn."

Daphne strolled over to her ball. She crouched down, eyeing the ground and the wickets. As she stood up, Y/N caught the glint in her eye and knew, instantly, what she was about to do.

"No, Daphne, don't -"

Daphne smacked her ball into Y/N's, knocking it down the hill in the same direction Anthony's ball had gone moments before.

Anthony looked as if he wanted to hit his sister. Or strangle her, one of the two.

"Right, well then, we'll see you two in a bit then," Daphne said, turning around, holding her mallet in both hands, smiling happily.

Anthony clenched his jaw tightly. He gestured for Y/N to move first, barely making eye contact with her. Y/N held her head high and marched past him, heading down the hill.

She could see the lake at the bottom of the hill and had a sudden, sinking feeling that she was about to get wet.

"My brother and sister do love to antagonise me," Anthony muttered, walking down the hill at a brisk pace. "We lost the red ball to this lake a few years back."

"Who's fault was that?" Y/N asked, glancing at him.

Anthony turned and smirked slightly. "Mine."

They'd both stopped on the edge of the lake, searching for any sign of the pink and black balls.

"Oh, dash it," Anthony said, staring straight ahead.

"What?"

He leant closer to Y/N and pointed to the shallows of the lake where two balls sat, stuck in the wet sand.

"We could just move them," Y/N suggested. "No one will know."

"But I will," Anthony replied, raising his eyebrows.

Y/N scoffed, watching as Anthony walked down onto the bank of the lake, his boots instantly being covered in sand. After a moment, Y/N followed after him, skidding slightly on the wet sand. She reached out for the closest thing to her - which just happened to be Anthony's arm.

"Apologies, my Lord," Y/N said, quickly letting go of his arm.

"It's fine."

The two of them stood there and stared at the balls, debating how best to get to the balls.

"Right then," Y/N said, throwing her mallet up in the air slightly and then catching it again.

She took a step forward into the water, feeling it begin to seep through the soles of her satin shoes. Y/N tilted her mallet back and then swung forward, whacking her ball out of the lake and onto the grass bank.

Y/N smiled smugly at Anthony, gesturing for him to take his turn. Anthony stomped down to the river, his boots sinking into the sand, and stood next to her. He swung his mallet back and hit his ball, sending it onto the grass, next to the black ball.

Anthony turned to look at her and shook his head cockily - reminding Y/N slightly of a peacock.

Y/N went to take a step forward but found her feet were stuck in the sand, sinking each time she tried to move.

"I am stuck," she announced, looking at Anthony.

"Pardon?" Anthony asked, turning around to face her.

Y/N gestured to the floor. "My feet are stuck."

"Are you serious?"

"Believe me, Lord Bridgerton, if I didn't require your assistance I would not be asking for it."

Anthony sighed heavily and dropped his mallet onto the floor, marching back down onto the edge of the lake and taking Y/N's arm, standing behind her.

He pulled her as she managed to free her right foot. Y/N then went to put her right foot down on a slightly firmer piece of sand but it got tangled up in the long hem of her dress. With her left foot stuck in the sand still, Y/N flailed about, losing her balance entirely. She squeaked as she fell backwards, pulling Anthony with her.

Y/N landed on top of Anthony, flinching as the water began to seep through her clothes and onto her skin. For a moment, they both awkwardly laid there in the lake, Y/N on top of Anthony, Anthony with his arm still around Y/N's waist.

Anthony grunted in disgust, flicking his hand free of sand. He pushed Y/N upright and he sat up, looking around him. Anthony glanced at Y/N, who was struggling not to laugh, and glared.

"It is not funny!" He snapped.

"I am not laughing," Y/N said - although she clearly wanted to.

Y/N turned her head, looking at Anthony. He met her gaze and a smile instantly appeared as he giggled. Y/N found herself letting out a breathy laugh, ducking her head to avoid looking at Anthony.

"Well, at least we did not lose the balls to the lake this year," Anthony said, standing up. "Miss Elliot, I take it your feet are now free?"

Y/N chuckled. "Yes, Lord Bridgerton, they are."

Anthony held out a hand to her. Y/N reached up and gripped it, the water making it harder to grip. Anthony pulled her to her feet and Y/N quickly hopped onto the firmer sand.

A cheer errupted from somewhere up the hill and Anthony sighed wistfully.

"I bet you that Daff has won - again," Anthony muttered. He turned to Y/N. "Miss Elliot, I do apologise for our trip into the lake."

"It is fine, Lord Bridgerton," Y/N replied, holding the wet hem of her dress up as she climbed onto the grass bank.

Anthony followed her up. "I do hope this adventure has helped break the ice between us - I fear we got off on the wrong foot."

Y/N paused. "Part of that is my fault, I suspect," she admitted, bending down and picking up her ball. "I may have made some assumptions about you."

"Everyone does. Lady Whistledown does not help."

Y/N looked at him. "Are the rumours she writes not true, then?"

Anthony exhaled slowly. "No. No, some of them are true."

"Such as the one about you being a Rake with a capital R who is now conveniently looking for a wife?"

"You appear to have heard a lot of things," Anthony said, leaning on his mallet.

Y/N shrugged. "I have been out in society for four years, my Lord... I do know some things."

"Ah, so you are one of the young chits who fell for me when they made their debuts?"

"Young chits?" Y/N repeated, staring at him in disbelief. "It is hardly my fault I was forced to talk to you by my mama."

"Well, perhaps if you, along with the other young ladies in the ton, were more interesting and could hold a conversation, we would have gotten along better -"

"Do you realise how rude you sound?" Y/N snapped. "You just assume you know what I am like based on a conversation we had three years ago when I was a debutante who knew nothing better than what had been installed in her by society?"

Anthony faltered, clearly realising he'd overstepped. "Miss Elliot -"

"No, Lord Bridgerton, you have made your thoughts very clear. I thank you for your assistance - I am going to retire to my room now."

Anthony watched Y/N walk up the hill and back to the house, leaving him alone. He sighed, swearing quietly at his stupidity. Anthony bent down and picked up her mallet and ball, wishing he could go back a few minutes.

No matter how hard she tried, Y/N could not sleep the following night. There was no reason, sleep simply just wouldn't come. After rolling over for the fifth time, she flung back the covers and sat up in the bed, sighing softly.

It was raining gently outside, the sound of thunder gradually getting closer as the rain hardened. It was a hot summer night in the middle of July and the rain was a welcome thing.

Y/N grabbed her shawl and a candle and headed out of her room. She had yet to explore Aubery Hall properly. Whilst she didn't want to trespass into the Bridgerton's private rooms, she wanted to see more of the house Anthony so clearly adored.

Her exploration took her down the stairs and into a very impressive library, full of leather-bound books. She set the candle down on the table in the centre of the room, letting it illuminate the room gently.

Y/N walked over to the walls of shelves, running a hand along the spines. She'd never seen such an extensive, beautiful collection of books before. Whoever was responsible for the library had a stunning collection of Shakespeare as well as every Jane Austen novel. Y/N pulled out a copy of Emma, carefully opening it and scanning the first page.

The door to the library creaked, the light coming in from the corridor growing. Y/N's head shot up and she saw Anthony, half-hiding behind the door. He was wearing his dress shirt and trousers, the top three buttons undone. His suspenders hung down by his sides and he had no shoes on. There was a bizarre sense of vulnerability, seeing him so undressed and calm.

"My apologies, Miss Elliot," Anthony said softly, ducking his head. "I saw a light and I was checking I did not leave a candle on."

"It's only me," Y/N replied, stepping away from the ladder. "I can go -"

"No, please... stay."

Anthony hesitated, hovering in the doorway, one hand on the edge of the door. After a moment, he walked in to the library, gently walking up to Y/N.

"Do you mind?" He asked, holding out a hand for the book.

"Not at all."

Y/N handed him the book, her bare fingers brushing his for a moment. She pulled her shawl up and over her chest, the fringe edging tickling her skin as it trickled down.

"My youngest sisters insisted I buy these," Anthony said, running a hand over the cover of the book, his signet ring glinting in the candlelight. "They wanted me to continue our father's library."

"This was your father's library?" Y/N asked softly.

"It was. He always made sure to include things we all enjoyed. There are books on painting for Benedict, travel guides for Colin - embroidery for Daphne and Francesca." Anthony looked up at the room. "There is something for everyone in my family in here."

"You continued the tradition?"

"I try. It's difficult since we spend more time in London than here. Eloise and Hyacinth insisted on Jane Austen being added to the collection."

"Have you ever read them?"

Anthony chuckled. "Sadly, I do not have enough time to read anymore. I wish I did, however."

Y/N looked at him intently. "If you do not mind me asking... how did your father die?"

Anthony sighed heavily. He smiled sadly. "He was stung by a bee. I had just returned from school when I heard Eloise screaming in the gardens. It was quite something to see a man as great as my father felled by such a small creature."

"How old were you?"

"I was just eighteen. I knew nothing about being a viscount or running estates... my father died before he could teach me everything."

"How did you cope?"

"I didn't," Anthony said, chuckling softly. "You've read the stories and the rumours. It was only last year that I realised that, out of duty to my family, I need to settle down and sort things out."

"Find a wife, you mean," Y/N said.

"Yes." He sighed, closing his eyes. "It's not as simple as simply finding a wife."

"Then explain it to me," Y/N told him softly. She reached out and put a tentative hand on his.

"After my father died... my mother was barely there. She does not remember any of it, not truly. I, however, remember every single moment. I could never..." Anthony trailed off, his voice catching. "I could never be the cause of such pain. No matter how cold-hearted and cruel everyone else may find me to be."

Y/N looked at him, her eyes full of understanding. She inhaled and exhaled slowly. "Has anyone ever loved you as Anthony Bridgerton and not Viscount Bridgerton?"

"I do not believe they are two separate entities. They are one and the same."

"I don't agree." Anthony looked at her sharply. "Anthony Bridgerton is standing in front of me right now. He was in front of me this afternoon in the gardens and in the lake. Viscount Bridgerton was at the balls and the parties. Anthony is you, right now. Maybe you should try and find a way to separate the two."

Y/N give him a small smile. She held her hand out for the book and Anthony handed it back to her, his fingers lingering over hers for a moment.

"Good night, my lord," Y/N said softly.

Y/N exhaled, puffing out her cheeks. She unconsciously pushed her hair pins back into her hair as she looked around the room, watching intently.

Her time as a young woman, desperate for dancing had long gone and now she preferred to stand on the edges of the dance floor amongst the chaperones and mothers.

No one looked at her twice and it was just how she liked it. Y/N had long accepted that she wasn't going to find love from the most eligible suitors in the ton. Instead, she had turned to the older gentleman - the military men, the business owners with enough money to buy most of London.

She wasn't looking for a true love match. But rather someone she could love and could be friends with as time went on. She just wanted someone to look at her as a human being instead of potential wife material.

The people around her started muttering, all eyes turning away from the dance. Y/N followed them and stood to attention as Anthony walked over to her, his eyes set firmly on her and her alone.

"Miss Elliot," Anthony said, bowing.

"Lord Bridgerton."

"I trust you are enjoying your evening?" Anthony asked, his hands still clasped behind his back.

"I am, indeed, thank you for asking. Your mother is an incredible host."

"She prides herself on being able to host a good ball," Anthony said, moving closer to Y/N. "Forgive me if I am being impertinent but I do not believe I have seen you on the dance floor, Miss Elliot."

"Because I have not been asked for a dance, Lord Bridgerton - which is just how I like it," she added quickly.

"Would you make an exception for a viscount?" Anthony asked softly, lowering his voice so just she could hear him.

Y/N looked at him. "I would make an exception for Mr Bridgerton."

Anthony gave her a genuine smile, holding out his hand to her. "Miss Elliot, will you accept Mr Bridgerton's offer to dance?"

Y/N placed her hand into his, gripping his fingers. "I will, Mr Bridgerton."

As the other dancers began walking to the centre of the dance floor, Anthony led Y/N to the back corner of the floor. It was away from the main eyes of the ton yet still allowed them to dance together.

The strings began to play and Anthony gently guided Y/N into the dance, both of them swaying backwards and forwards. He spun her, Y/N's gloved fingers still gripping his hand, high above their heads.

Their arms lowered and Anthony put his hands on her waist as she placed hers on his arm. One step backwards and they were waltzing with everyone else, all dancing in synch.

"I want to apologise for the other day," Anthony said quietly, his lips near Y/N's ear so she could hear him over the music.

"I was out of line, Lord Bridgerton," Y/N replied, letting him release her and then turn her around.

"No, you were not. You were correct with everything you said. My own arrogance and bad experiences resulted in my prejudice. Not every young lady is uneducated and simply a pretty face."

"I think you will find that a lot of young women enjoy reading and writing," Y/N said softly. "They are just seen by society as the outcasts."

"Indeed - much like my sister, Eloise."

Y/N spun to face him, stepping backwards. "What is it?"

"I also wanted to thank you," Anthony replied. "For too long I have lived in my father's shadow. The viscount took over me and I forgot what I, myself wanted. Being able to acknowledge that they are two different things helped. So, thank you."

"You are very welcome, my lord."

"You are also the first person who has ever seen me as just Anthony. As much as I adore my family, they see only an older brother who is the head of the family. It is rare that I can just be myself. The first time we met, you threw my off my guard, wanting to see anyone else other than the viscount."

"Oh, is that why you were so rude to me?"

"Again, I apologise. I have never been good at communicating emotions. I tend to hide them until they boil over. But, you, Miss Elliot, tore down every wall I have ever built."

Y/N ducked under his arm and then turned around. "I do hope that is a good thing."

"It is. But it is also why it has taken me until now, until this very moment, in fact, to realise that I am completely and utterly in love with you.”

Y/N stopped. She stared at Anthony, her eyes wide, her heart pounding. "Pardon me?"

"I apologise if it is too sudden or if I have overstepped," Anthony said quickly, "but when I am with you, I do not have to hide behind my titles. I am simply Anthony. And that is something I did not know I wanted or needed. Not until you made it so clear to me."

The music ended, the last few notes playing out into the crowded room. Y/N belatedly remembered to curtsey to Anthony as the dancers filed off the floor.

"I need some air," Y/N said, turning on her heel.

She weaved through the crowds and walked out onto the patio, relishing the cool air on her skin.

"Miss Elliot, if I have overstepped, I apologise -"

"No, it is not that," Y/N told him, turning to face Anthony. "I just... the reason I see you as just Anthony and nothing else is because... that is all I have ever wanted. Every suitor that comes to my door, no matter how kind and caring they are, never cares to see Y/N. They just want to know if I would be a good wife and mother. No one ever makes the time to get to know me."

"If I have ever made you feel that way -"

"That is the thing, though... you haven't. Never once have I felt that you only cared about me fitting your requirements. Whilst I'm sure other women did... I did not. I felt... feel, as if I can be Y/N. I do not have to pretend to be something I am clearly not."

Anthony was looking at her with such intrigue and kindness it almost made her cry. Never, not once, had a suitor listened to her as much as he had. Never once had they even bothered to care about her as a person.

And now, there was someone who did. Someone who did care - even if they were a reformed Rake.

"Miss Elliot, I am aware that this may be too sudden but... I would very much like to get to know you better."

Y/N smiled gently. "You're not just going to propose to me here and now?"

"I could. But I want to get to know Y/N Elliot first. I want to know what makes her smile and what makes her cry."

He was inches away from her now. Anthony reached out his hand, his fingers brushing against hers. Y/N inhaled sharply at the contact, her skin quickly being covered in goosebumps.

"Well then, Lord Bridgerton," Y/N said softly, her little finger wrapping around his. "You best get on with it."

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagines #bridgerton imagines

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andreafmn · 2 years

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Speak - Chapter 4

Word Count: 3K

Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.

Chapter: 4/?

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to @yuki254 @purplegardenwhispers and @zheezs14 for answering my last post. It's a bit heartbreaking but I rather do like angst and hurt/no comfort 😅 Paul will get his happy ending some day.

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If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories. You can request at any time any story or one-shot you desire. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 4

It was one thing to hear about the imprint bond and how strong it could be, but it was another to experience it. Hot-headed Paul always thought himself too good to have the universe choose who would be eternally connected to him through a supernatural bond – he’d simply choose who he’d spend the rest of his life with. It was his life and he would decide what to do with it.

It never crossed his mind that he’d see his imprint so soon, or that it would be the sister of a bloodsucker sympathizer.

That night he had been with the pack, like every night before, enjoying another bonfire in celebration of the departure of the Cullens. The only difference was that there was Christmas food and decoration. Other than that, it was a normal night.

Then, from afar, he picked up Jacob Black’s scent as well as an intriguing mysterious one. He could smell her, hear her, but he did not turn to look at her. Not yet. Jared and Paul remained throwing a football back and forth, ignoring the newcomer.

But it didn’t last long.

As he ran around the sand, laughing with his friends, he could feel eyes burning into his back. He did not want to give in to temptation. He did not want to turn his head.

Alas, he did.

The feeling was instant, and he recognized it immediately. As their gazes connected, he felt the way everything shifted. Every atom that made up his being screamed to get closer to her, every cell in his body yearned for her warmth, there was nothing in his body that was not calling for her. He understood what Sam had told him. The whole gravitational pull spiel and the priority shift, he understood. As much as he wanted to break their stare, he simply couldn’t. He wanted to stare into her eyes for eternity.

Jacob noticed that, and Paul could smell the jealousy from where he stood. She, (Y/N) he heard, was asking about him and Jake didn’t like it. Still, he had something over Paul. He was already close to her.

“It happened, didn’t it?” Jared questioned his friend with a knowing grin on his face. “Can’t believe it’s (Y/N) Swan. I mean, the sister of a vampire lover. That’s hilarious!”

“Shut up, Jared.”

“Ooh, and look at Jake,” he continued. “He’s got his arm on your girl. What’re you gonna do about it?”

“She’s not my girl,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “And there’s nothing I can do. I don’t even know her. So, leave it alone.”

“Now, look, they’re leaving. Together,” Jared continued to tease, though everyone could tell Paul’s wick was burning short. “Can’t believe Jacob Black is stealing your girl.”

“SHE’S NOT MY GIRL!” Paul finally exploded before he sauntered off.

“Let him go,” Sam whispered to Jared. “He just needs some time to cool off.”

Paul had no idea where he was going, but his legs were taking him further and further from the beach. The smell of ash and the ocean were soon replaced with the smell of the pine trees that surrounded him. And suddenly, the smell of car oil hit his nose.

Somehow, he had made his way to the Black residence, and he heard that sweet sound he had just witnessed a mere two hours before. But the words that were coming out of her mouth only worked to infuriate him.

“If you’re gonna do something, Jake,” (Y/N) teased. “Then do it.”

The wolf saw from far away how Jacob leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Paul could see as the other boy devoured (Y/N) like he was claiming her as his. And as he saw their hands roam, he couldn’t help the anger and jealousy that was bubbling under the surface. He wanted to walk up to them and rip the boy off her, but he knew that it would be absolutely psychotic. She didn’t know him and that would not be the right first impression.

He couldn’t stop the rippling he felt in his body. The anger only grew as he stared at the scene unfolding. He had no right to feel this way, but he couldn’t help it. Paul ran into the shadow of the woods letting his body transform into what it wanted. His body ripped as he allowed the shift to take over him.

Paul wanted to feel something other than anger. He wanted to feel the cold air of autumn nip at his lungs, the wind prickling at his eyes, the burn of exhaustion in his legs. He wanted to feel everything – anything but the call to her.

Sam had told them how the imprint bond felt. That those days he spent apart from Emily had torn his heart into two, always searching for its missing piece. He said it was an imaginable pain, and it simply got worse when she asked him to stay away and hurt her. Paul had always thought that he was stronger than any supernatural bong, but as he felt the ache in his chest, he knew this type of pain was not meant to be survivable.

So, he ran.

He ran until his legs felt almost numb, until his lungs were screaming at the cold air they were taking in, until the trees around him were simply a blur in his eyes. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be tied to another person, at least not like this. Paul always thought his love life was something he’d at least be able to control. Just that little aspect of his life he wanted to be able to make a choice for himself.

Paul ignored the calls from the other pack members, emptying his mind of any thoughts. Still, (Y/N) Swan still managed to sneak her way into his head. He could see her (Y/H/C) hair flowing in the wind, her curious (Y/E/C) eyes staring back at him, and her nose turning red in the cold weather of December. He could remember her scent, a sweet mix of almond vanilla with the signature pine smell of Forks.

Everything inside him was telling him to turn around. To go to her and explain everything, bringing her into the nonsensical world of vampires and werewolves and all in between. He wanted to simply feel her warmth close to him – he’d be satisfied with just that little. But he wouldn’t allow himself to. He kept running until he collapsed from exhaustion.

When his eyes fluttered open, morning had come and his body had turned back to human form. Beside him neatly folded clothes were placed and he knew Jared had found his wolf at some point last night. Paul didn’t feel like talking about what happened. He was sure they both already knew.

He couldn’t fathom the power (Y/N) already had over him. She had overtaken every thought in his head. Even if he only knew her name and what she looked like, he missed her.

As he dressed, an angry scowl had cemented itself on his face. Paul did not want the control the imprint bond brought. If he was going to be tied to someone, it was because he chose to, not because of a supernatural link. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

Once more, his legs were taking him somewhere and he failed to know where. That was until his fist was knocking against the front door of the Black residence. Before his head had caught up to what he was doing, the white door was opening.

“Paul?” Jacob questioned. “What are you doing here?”

And he wasn’t completely sure, but apparently, his voice was. “You need to stay away from (Y/N),” he stated with unwarranted confidence — and maybe a tinge of anger.

“And why exactly is that? Last time I checked, she’s nothing to you.”

“Look, man, it’s a complicated thing. But just stay away from her,” he grumbled. “She deserves better than you.”

“And, what, that’s you?” Jacob scoffed. There was an offense to his tone. Who was Paul to come to his house and say he wasn’t man enough for (Y/N)? “You don’t even know her, Paul.”

“Jacob, you really don’t wanna cross me. So do yourself a favor and keep your distance. Got that?”

“Let me tell you how this is gonna go, Pauly,” Jake teased. “I’m gonna ask (Y/N) to be my girlfriend; she’s gonna say yes; and you’re gonna be in that weird gang with Jared and Sam, far from us. You got that?”

Paul found himself breathing heavily once again in front of the red barn house. Jacob had the upper hand here. He was close friends with (Y/N) and her sister. He knew their father. And he could tell that (Y/N) liked him. Even if he kept telling himself that he didn’t care for the link, every fiber inside him was already getting overprotective over her.

“Anything else?” At Paul’s lack of response, a cocky smile grew on Jake’s face. “Well, thanks for coming by. I’m actually getting ready to go see (Y/N) soon.”

Anger shook within Paul’s body as the door closed on his face. He could feel the wolf wanting to jump out and wreak havoc on the house, but no one really was to blame. He was no one to (Y/N), and he would continue to be no one if he didn’t do something about it. Still, all he could see now was red.

Jacob had known just the right words to send him into a spiral. He knew that Paul had no ground to stand on. (Y/N) knew nothing of him or why he wanted to be close to her. And he wasn’t thinking of changing that too soon.

“Let’s take a walk, Paul,” Sam’s voice boomed from behind the shaking boy. “You need to calm down.”

The pair walked in silence at first. With Paul practicing breathing techniques to calm himself down, and Sam was simply quiet. Even the world around them had seemed to quiet down. The soft whistling of the wind, the chirp of the birds, and the rustling of the trees had all died down.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Sam started.

“About?”

“We all know that you imprinted on the younger Swan last night, Paul. Maybe we should start there?”

Paul could only sigh. He knew exactly what the conversation would be about, but he simply didn’t want to face it. “There’s nothing for me to do,” Paul stated. “She’s with Jake. That’s that.”

“You know both of you will find it hard to resist the pull. As every day passes it’ll get harder and harder to stay away,” the older shifter explained. “There will come a point where you will have no other choice than to tell her everything that is happening — from who we are to why we are this way. You can try to avoid it for as long as you can, but sooner or later it will become unbearable.”

“I don’t see the point,” he chuckled dryly. “Why would I bring an innocent person into this world if she doesn’t need to be? You’ve told us we become whatever our imprint needs from us. She needs me to stay away.”

“That’s not for you to decide, Paul, and you know it. She needs to decide that for herself.”

“Well, it’s not like you can force me to tell her anything. This is my decision.”

“What’s gonna happen when she keeps coming here?” Sam retorted. “What’re you gonna do when she finds herself looking for you for answers? Are you gonna keep pushing her away?”

“If it’s what’s best for her, then yes.”

“Paul..”

“Look, Sam, I understand that you wanna help. But I didn’t t ask for this. I don’t want this,” Paul exclaimed. “(Y/N) Swan is complicated, and my life is complicated enough as it is. I made my decision. And that’s that. Now, can we just drop this?”

“Alright, Paul. But if you ever change your mind, know that you can always talk to me about it.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Paul didn’t want to change his mind. That much he knew at that point. But with his thoughts consumed by the image of her, he didn’t know how long that would last.

There was an independence he was used to. Paul had never been tied down by anything or anyone. He’d come from a broken home, where nothing lasted forever. Not even love. He’d known of heartache from a young age and it was something he knew he did not want to experience again. Least of all because his supernatural genes decided it to be so.

As he lay in bed that night, he remembered her on the beach. Her beautiful (Y/E/C) eyes gleamed under the moonlight, her pale skin warmed by the shine of the fire, her (Y/H/C) hair blowing in the wind of the night. She had been a vision to him. The most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Beautiful and untouchable.

Drifting to sleep, (Y/N) Swan was the last thing omg his mind. And suddenly, everything shifted.

He was standing in a clearing, looking over a still river. He was dressed in white linen shorts and his feet and chest were bare. Paul breathed in the fresh air, listened to the low hum of the wind and the babbling of the brook, and felt the tickling of the grass on his feet. The sun felt warm against his skin, warmer than his body temperature, beckoning a smile to his face.

And Paul wasn’t by himself either.

“You look beautiful, darling,” he told her. “Absolutely radiant.”

“Thank you, Paul. And you look as handsome as ever,” (Y/N) giggled. “Come here.”

He walked slowly to her, a playful grin propped on his face. His arms circled her waist and wrapped her in a tight hug, lifting her from the ground and spinning her around. As he slid her back to the ground, he placed a hand on her cheek, his thumb running through her cheek. (Y/N) closed her eyes and enjoyed the touch, his warmth feeling better than the one the sun provided.

He felt different than his usual self with her. The fire that normally burned inside him and made him feel like a ticking bomb wasted away. She made him feel calm, grounded. There was a homely feeling to having her in his arms. Like he had found a missing piece. She fit perfectly between his arms, like she was made to be there.

(Y/N) allowed him to pull her toward the water, sinking into the comfortable river. She gave him a smile and shrieked happily as the coldness seeped through her bones. Her white dress quickly soaked and his shorts darkened.

“This water is freezing, Paul,” she whispered to him. He kept her close, his arms wrapped around her. “Don’t you dare let go.”

“I would never, beautiful,” he grinned. Paul was close to her, so close he could see his breath moving the water droplets on her face. “I’ve got you now, and I’m never planning on letting you go.”

“Is that a threat?” she joked, copying the smile on his face.

“It’s a promise, darling,” Paul said. “It’s a promise.”

He closed the space between them and pressed their lips together. (Y/N) felt sparks running through her body, the feeling of belonging washing over her. This is where she was meant to be. He was who she was meant to be with.

There was a feeling rippling inside him that he’d never felt before. Sure he had a couple of girlfriends, and some flings here and there. But never this feeling. This sentiment was foreign and it took over his whole being. It flowed through his veins and settled in his heart. It was an emotion he had heard of time and time again but he never had a reason to feel it.

So he spoke of it.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

And she said it back.

“I love you more, Paul.”

Paul felt he would startle awake from the dream. But he wanted to witness more. He wanted to feel this feeling for as long as he could. Because he knew once he woke it would all disappear. All in the blink of an eye.

So, he shut his eyes harder and he kept dreaming.

And she was still there. In his dream, she was still there. Looking at her with so much love and joy that he was okay if he never woke. Here he was happy, unencumbered by his responsibilities as a shifter. Here he wasn’t part of a pack, he didn’t have to protect the people around him from the vampires that loomed or keep any treaty. Here he could simply be. And be with her by his side.

“What’re you thinking of in there?” (Y/N) smiled at him with so much warmth he could feel it inside him. Her lips kissed his forehead with a tender touch. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“I’m thinking of you,” he said. “I’m always thinking of you.”

“All good things I hope.”

“The best,” he chuckled. “There’s nothing bad I could ever think of you.”

“Tell me then,” she giggled. “Tell me one of the things you think of.”

“How I am the luckiest person alive because you chose to be with me. I’m still not very sure why you would choose me.”

“Because you chose me,” she smiled. Her hand traced his face like she was committing every line to her memory. “The universe really knew what it was doing by bringing us together, huh?”

“It seems so. Remind me again why it took this long?”

“We all know it was your stubbornness,” she laughed. “But never mind all that. This. This is all worth it. It’s all a dream.”

“A dream I never want to wake from.”

But a dream it all was. And a dream it would remain for Paul for the time being. He would stay away from her as much as he could — at least until his heart could take it. But he knew he could always see her in his dreams. A place where no one would speak of what he should or shouldn’t do with his life.

Taglist: @winter-soldier-101@zheezs14 @a-sifu-hotman @sunflowerleii @DyslexicCatterpillar @Blackbluerose666 @slutforsainz @kortniec696 @xcastawayherosx @minhaimaginacao @bluebirbnamedJay @sirenheadenby@andreiaafaria@bluetreecloud20 @valejewel @nogitsune-the @user0ur0mom @skyesthebomb @swidkid @avis15 @honeylovemoon @wonieeee @edwardssugarmommy @nyenye @sugajar @lovel-blog @witchofhawkins @Six-Call @then-worship-at-my-altar @ems-alexandra @blueshoelacess @Nyctophilia710 @rosalie-whitlock @nocturnalherb16 @this-is-a-bad-idea @esposadomd @locokoca @volturiwolf @spookyqueen

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blueberrypancakesworld · 3 months

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Where is your alibi?

warning : +18, smut, p in v, praise kink, fem reader, no use of Y/n, kinda public, thigh riding, kissing, body worship

Summary : He saw her every day from his office. Hoffman had no right to keep a beauty to himself, it was only fair that Strahm took something for himself. That he wanted to taste this beauty himself and how better to do it in the interrogation room and create an alibi.

Info : So finally something for our beloved Peter Strahm it was time that he get's his own One-Shot. So have fun reading everyone oh and Hoffman is there too ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He knew her and had seen her in and out of the police station several times. Over and over again. Maybe he had a crush on her, maybe he had looked a little too closely at her body, but he had only just realized that she was neither a repeated convict nor an informant. She was something else, something he knew about because she had told him.

She had always been ignored by the others when she was in the corridor, sipping water from the dispenser, touching up her lipstick and looking around until the door opened and she simply disappeared into the room. Nothing was seen or heard for a while before Strahm saw her come out again.

He was neither stupid nor blind. Her skirt had slipped where a bra had previously been on her breasts and there was nothing left to fix her hair after Hoffman had disheveled it in one position or another. As the red lipstick smudged and Hoffman's overly satisfied smile at his colleague let him know two things.

First, she was his and second, he would never get anything like that. Would he? Because if there was one thing Strahm knew, it was that he was Hoffman's equal and would use every opportunity to get this pretty angel for himself.

She wouldn't know what she was missing once she was with him, and maybe it was Strahm's ego that he walked up to her the next time she showed up, his gaze searching as he grabbed her by the arm right next to her breasts knowing she had felt it.

Her look of slight confusion at first he was sure she knew him if not by sight then by Hoffman. But it was her brief smile like a "try me" she seemed to hold out to him as he led her into the interrogation room, soundproof from one side and lockable from the other.

The bright light of the neon tubes left no shadows and the table and two chairs looked empty and naked as he pointed to them. Sit down, miss," he said and placed a file in front of her, an unnecessary procedure that had been discontinued a few months ago, but the look on her face told him that she knew he was trying to do something.

That something was different here and that she wasn't in any "danger", was she? ,,Oh that's well...what can I say officer your colleague...Hoffman has promised me anonymity if I please" she admitted and lowered her gaze with mock embarrassment to hear a feigned sniffle from her and Strahm had to suppress a grin.

Instead, he put his hand on her rough and warm, protective and irresistible as he gave her a ,,Don't worry sweetheart I think it's best if you show me where...you know I can help you don't you?" he appealed to her reason the reason to play this game of being the pretty doll, the pretty whore between them.

The toy they would share in one way or another. Strahm had seen it in her eyes, the desire that flashed whenever she came out of Hoffman's office looking absolutely fucked and met Strahm's gaze.

She wanted him and would have loved to take him there. The question briefly crossed his mind. Hoffman had to give her more than just money, and intimacy was sometimes worth more than money. That sex with Hoffman was probably worth all the money in the world.

Then he would have to change it. ,,Come on, how about it sweetie... show me where and I promise you it'll be all right," he said again and leaned back slightly in the chair as she rose from her chair, the bag slid to the floor and she began to slowly unbutton her blouse one by one and Strahm's blue eyes greedily soaked up every bit of skin.

Remembering how Hoffman had her for himself over and over again. ,,It's only fair that you should share, isn't it?" he asked as the other man crawled onto the table, her blouse long since slipped off, and she sat down on the table in front of him. ,,Officer, he touched me everywhere, I'm afraid...he kissed me, bit me, sucked me and...fucked me," she said as if she was really feeling shame, he saw the slight reddening of her cheeks cutely and yet the clenching of her thighs spoke against it.

A whore with the expression of an angel. Her legs at his side and smoothly lowered herself onto him he helped her like a self-sacrifice and his hands held her by the waist as she settled on his covered center. He could smell her sweet perfume vanilla and strawberry even if it seemed artificial it was the only thing in the room that mingled with his aftershave.

The rough leather met the sweetness. ,,Is that so? Darling, then I must be thorough," he whispered to her, his hand on her hip firm and steady as she naturally began to move. Again and again her panty moved over the growing hardness of his middle.

Her hands were resting on his chest, her pretty button eyes looking at him again and again as he saw the lust shining inside. ,,That's right just keep going...be a good girl" he whispered to her giving her a soft kiss on her heated cheeks closing her lips in a kiss tasting the sweetness of the make up as he suspected.

The thought of what she tasted like when he would have her so often for the first time made him groan into the kiss and move his hips towards her, feeling her tremble as she closed her eyes in pleasure. Despite the clothes between them, he seemed to feel her wetness coming on.

Her panties must have had more than just a wet spot for a long time, her fingers caressing the fabric of his shirt as the extra movement on his part caused the lust between them to be stirred. His free hand went to her back and opened the bra, the garment slid carelessly to the floor and he took care of her sensitive nipples.

The gentle bite was enough to make her moan and echo around the room and Strahm knew he was going to have a lot more fun with this sweetie. ,,Such naughty noises, pretty," he murmured between kisses and bites on her breasts as her moans and gasps were music to his ears.

The murmur she made let him know that she was about to reach her climax. ,,Come on be a good girl for daddy and come" she said knowing she understood she was a clever girl as he moved his hips a second time pushing her down on him before she came only moments later.

The heavy breathing and his smirk could be heard in the room as he gave her a moment to watch his hands roam over her body before Strahm sat her down on the table. ,,One more examination Sir?" she murmured, holding on to the metal table before taking off her panties, knowing full well what he wanted and what she still needed.

He took off her underpants and stuffed them into his trouser pocket, he got up from the chair himself, the chair was moved back and he opened his belt. He looked at her and with a smile she held her wrists for him, which was rewarded with a kiss. ,,Obey well," he murmured before he slowly pushed her onto the table, her wrists bound, knowing that they both had a lot more to learn and perhaps it was Hoffman who could learn.

Strahm pulled her closer by her hips, his smirk more than evident as she automatically wrapped her thighs around him, his groan stifled by a kiss she had caused. ,,Bett-Better than Hoffman," she said, unable to catch her breath for a moment as she had to get used to his size, even if he wasn't as wide as Hoffman's, Strahm's was longer.

A fact that not only surprised her, but also Strahm, who began to thrust into her at her words. She pulled herself tighter around him, put her hands behind her head and tried to adapt to his rhythm. Which was still considerate at first, as when she rode him he admired her and took his time.

But now he just seemed to lose himself in her and the back of the ink could be heard moving across the floor as he pushed harder. The grin she had, however, was always uninterrupted by her sons as she tried almost in vain to hold on to the metal somehow. Her heartbeat increased as he took care of her breasts again, his massage rougher but still pleasant.

The tugging in her sensitive nipples didn't stop and her back arched again and again as she tried to get away and at the same time enjoy the pleasure of being good to him, of being good for him. She didn't see his gaze go down from her to the lonely mirror.

The bastard looked at Strahm knowing that with every thrust, every sweet moan, every vulgar sound that echoed through the room, Hoffman was getting aroused behind the glass.

Strahm could just see the hand on the window, the snarky grin on his lips and the bulge in his pants that he stroked. An animal demanding its prey.

Her noises increased as he came closer to his climax, his rhythm lost more and more. Surrendering to the pleasure more and more as she pulled herself tighter around him one last time and his hand wrapped around her neck for a moment as he came.

The moment was punctuated by a breath you both breathed as he slowly pulled out of her, she knew she wouldn't get her panties back. He straightened his pants and tucked his shirt into them and she tried to collect herself.

Even though at least the older one knew it wasn't over for the pretty one. ,,I think we can discuss this again... we don't want the fun to end," Strahm said and at least adjusted his chair as he lovingly stroked her wrists, leaving a soft kiss on her slightly red skin before he gave her a peck on the cheek and headed towards the door.

,,She's all yours...but give her a moment," he said, seeing her puzzled expression in the mirror as he walked past Hoffman who just gave him a snort, ,,You know I'm very...gentle," he said, closing the door to the meeting room behind him.

Strahm knew that he would have to do more than just turn on the overdubbing music for the other colleagues to cover Hoffman's session. But he could still take care of that when he watched the show behind the mirror.

As a small final reward and his own alibi to have an excuse why he was late. But for the sight of seeing her fucked on his face again, what was the point of taking a break when he had his beauty, right?

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@megustadilf , @lola-max-sugar , @slut4hoffman , @callmeklarise , @spookyghoullover , @tuttifuckinfruttifriday , @c0stass

#saw movie #saw peter strahm #peter strahm #peter strahm x reader #saw peter strahm x reader

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hugmeimtouchdeprived · 2 months

Text

Ghost!Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x fem!reader - Prologue

A little prologue, I guess? I do want to make this into a proper fic, just a bit busy now so I'm not sure how often I'll be able to write.

English isn't my first language and this is my first fic, so please bare with me!

Inspired by @ghouljams's ghost!Ghost fics!

(Yes I did write something for this previously on a different account but ended up deleting it for reasons)

Content warning: MW3 (2023) major spoilers, major character death right at the beginning, not edited because it's 1am and I'm feeling lazy but really want to post this, please let me know if I need to add more, I'm still new to this!

Soap x reader, this one is from Johnny's POV but the next part will be reader's POV.

Original drabble | Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

It’s odd, really, how quick it all happened. From defusing a bomb to saving his captain to getting shot. He hadn’t even realized he was dead at first, although it should have been obvious in hindsight. No one could survive being shot in the head from point-blank range like that, not even an elite soldier.

Truly understanding what had happened took a while. Sure, he could see his own limp body on the ground as his teammates stood around him, when it was delicately put in a body bag and carried away, but it didn’t hit him until way later. It was more confusing than anything when he tried to tell them he was alright, that he was right there, and nobody would listen. Nobody would even look at him.

He watched as people came in and out of the tunnel for the next few days, doing their investigations and cleaning up the corpses and the blood, until everything went back to normal. Trains ran by as scheduled, workers hustling about.

Johnny was deep in denial for a long, long time. He can’t be dead, absolutely not. Look, he’s right here! Just- just look at him. Please look at him, say something to him. Why the fuck is everyone ignoring him?

No, actually, it’s just a bad dream. That’s what it is. He’s having a very vivid nightmare, one that feels like it just won’t end. But it will. Definitely. He’s going to wake up at base, or maybe back at his apartment in the city, and he’ll go to work and tell everyone about the weirdly realistic nightmare he just had, and they’ll all have a laugh about it.

But days turn into weeks, and he’s still there. It catches up slowly that this is no dream. He’s not going to simply wake up, not this time. He keeps going between absolute hopelessness and uncontainable rage. How could this happen? Sure he knew the risks of his job, that his life could end with little to no warning at any moment. Still, it’s almost impossible to actually comprehend once it has happened. What will his family think when they get the news? How will his poor mother handle it, if at all?

What about his team? They’re trained soldiers, best of the best. They’ve all lost friends, loved ones, teammates. They’ve seen it all before, surely this is no different. Just another Tuesday. No, they’re a family. At least in Johnny’s eyes. They must miss him, grief in their own ways.

And then there’s Makarov. Johnny can’t help but wonder where he is, what he’s doing. The 141 must still be on his tail, if they haven’t caught him already.

Johnny hopes they give him hell. For everything he’s done, and selfishly, Johnny hopes they make sure to avenge him while they’re at it.

Acceptance of this new reality comes agonizingly slow. Johnny tries to force it, tries to convince himself that it’s okay, it was bound to happen eventually. It just happened sooner than he had dared to hope. But that’s how it goes, people die, the world moves on.

He does eventually move around the underground tunnels. He could leave. At least he’s pretty sure he could if he tried, but he doesn’t want to. Maybe someday, but what good would it do now? Watching his loved ones grieve his passing, wondering how the hell they can go on. Johnny knows he was loved. He is loved. And he is full of love, even if he didn’t always show it in a traditional way. But the people around him definitely knew it, Johnny always made sure of it.

And now he’s alone.

He wanders the underground tunnels, watching the trains rush by. Makes sure to step aside when they do, still afraid of being hit. Refuses to even test it if he’d just pass right through them or other solid objects and surfaces (or maybe he does pass his hand or entire arm through some worker in a bright vest, just to see if he can. It’s not like the man will ever know anyway, despite the cold shiver that seems to go up his spine.)

Finding himself at a platform with people passing by at almost all hours of the day feels like a relief. Nobody will still acknowledge him, but the hustle and bustle fills his days with something, and that’s definitely better than nothing. It’s boring and mundane but feels less lonely. He watches as people rush to work, complain about the weather and how the train is late again, teenagers loitering around and kids playing at their parents’ feet as they wait. Occasionally he’ll see some dramatic show of goodbyes and breakups and arguments and heartbreaks of all kinds. He’ll see reunions, online friends meeting for the first time. Even watched some poor bloke propose to his girlfriend. She had awkwardly declined and quickly hopped on the next train, leaving her boyfriend on the platform. Johnny would have felt bad for the young man, if the couple hadn’t looked like they were on their first date.

He makes stories about people, especially ones who take this route often. Wondering where they’re coming from, where they’re going and why. What the lives of these seemingly regular civilians must be like. The single mom who gets on the train almost every day with two screaming toddlers in tow. The young man always smoking, ignoring the glares and the security telling him off. The old woman who comes by alone, often not even getting on a train and opting to sit near the stairs for a couple hours, a few days a week, just people watching. Just like Johnny, he supposes.

That’s how the first months go by. Johnny isn’t sure how long, there’s no point in keeping count of the days, weeks, months. He’s dead, what’s he going to do with that information? Well, he does keep some track of the days, reading headlines of newspapers and articles over people’s shoulders as they wait, just to keep some track of what’s going on in the world outside the tube network.

Yeah, it’s still boring as hell. Faces passing by, day by day.

Johnny is tempted to leave, or at least see if he can. There’s only so many things to see at a train station until it starts to numb his mind. He could probably see the world. Other than war zones and safehouses and such, that is. Do ghosts go on vacations? Can they go on vacations? Johnny doesn’t know much about what ghosts – at least he thinks he’s a ghost, or a spirit of some kind – like him are capable of. Too many movies and stories about the subject, all so similar but oh so different from one another. Guess there’s no better time than the present to find out, huh?

Those plans of leaving for good are quickly forgotten when something – someone – catches his eye one day. Not even sure why, he feels drawn to her, like a magnet. And after just a few days of seeing her almost daily as she gets on a train in the morning and returns later in the evening, it just doesn’t feel enough for poor lil’ Johnny. Whatever this is, he can't just let her be. Especially when, for a brief moment, he believes she looked at him. Actually looked straight at him.

Well, maybe he will try and leave this tunnel, after all.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! 🌷This was a fairly quick thing, just because I wanted to get this little fic started, and starting a new project is always the hardest part in my experience. Just wanted to get the ball rolling, ya know? Just getting those brainworms out.

Original drabble | Chapter 1

#cod mw x reader #cod mw3 spoilers #ghost!soap #johnny mactavish x you #johnny mactavish x reader #cod x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #soap x reader #soap x you #cod mw3 #modern warfare 3

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fromriches-tosin · 5 months

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okay so whenever i see a reijean post, it’s mostly about jean helping reiner with trauma because ofc yeah but also we need to talk about reiner helping jean aswell specifically this:

so something i think that generally gets ignored both in fanon and canon is that jean and the other scouts are child soldiers aswell as the warriors. like obviously they weren’t as young as the warriors but jean was like 15-16?? when graduation happened so he must’ve been max 13 or so when joining. still far too young to be a solider. and because it’s in jeans nature, he’d obviously only focus on reiners trauma and put reiners experience first and then one day reiner’s like “jean you realize you were a child solider too” and jean just being like “???”. then it leads to reiner helping jean come to terms with it and coming to terms with the fact that he also was robbed at least partly of a childhood he deserved. and they both help each other heal because they love each yay.

sorry about the rambling

What personally annoys me the most is the fandom's tendency to reduce Jean's trauma to Marco's death. It's always "ah, he's sad because of Marco, he's broken because of Marco, he never makes peace with his death" – no. In Jean's case Marco's death is only the tip of the iceberg. It's what launches the avalanche of pain Jean gets buried under. That's why I'm always saying Marco's influence is both a blessing and a curse for Jean – a blessing because it makes him grow as a person. A curse because it pushes him into hell itself.

Jean is surrounded by death. He keeps losing his friends, comrades he considers family; he sees them eaten alive, sees hundreds of them obliterated by powers beyond their understanding. He loses Sasha and Hange – both of whom he cares about deeply. He is forced to walk on corpses, to make decisions no one else wants to make and to bid farewell to his humanity – something he cherishes the most.

He has to start killing and to come to terms with the fact that his lofty idea of living up to Marco's expectations was simply bullshit. Because just like the people responsible for Marco's death, he also turned into a murderer for the sake of "greater good". Some may argue that his sins are nothing in comparison to what the Warriors did, but they would be missing a very important point here: for Jean, every human life is precious. That's why he looks so heartbroken because of Floch. That's why it's so hard for him to let go of Eren. It's even difficult to judge what is worse for Jean: landing the first killing blow or realizing that he had spent years protecting a friend who eventually turned into a monster for his sake.

I love how differently Jean reacts to Sasha and Hange's respective deaths. When Sasha gets shot, he's clearly in shock, but remains collected enough to spare the child responsible for her demise. He's composed enough to be able to do his job until the very end – even though Sasha is bleeding out at his feet. When Hange dies, he breaks down and cries immediately. Perhaps he has reached some kind of limit (there must be a limit to how much a person can take, right?), perhaps he's thinking that he should have been the one to stay behind. It couldn't have been Mikasa, Levi or any of the Shifters, but why sacrifice the commander? As a squad leader, Jean might feel it was his job to make sure the others escape. His turn to die.

Jean is usually a very loud person, but he prefers to suffer in silence. It's much easier to address Reiner's pain because it's just so obvious – he tries to take his own life, he breaks down and can't stop talking about the terrible things he has done, he's a shadow of his former self. Jean appears more mentally stable, more in control of what he shows to the others. He keeps covering his ears when he's overwhelmed, keeps running away or hiding in the darkness when he can't take it anymore, but when he interacts with other people – he's composed again. It's only his eyes that show what he's going through.

In my fics I try to put some emphasis on Jean's trauma. In BE he is struggling with the aftermath of the Rumbling (and Reiner comforts him), in FSWL he's faced with the concept of being a child soldier and forced to kill someone he tried so hard to save. There's also that one little scene in NLMG which I like – when Reiner kills the brigands, Jean stops Gabi from even looking at the corpses. Jean recognizes the fact that children, any children, even trained Warriors, shouldn't see such things – the things he himself has been surrounded by for years.

And that's the thing when it comes to writing stories from Jean's POV – the thing you mentioned – he doesn't really pay that much attention to his own suffering. He puts others first. So, his trauma is somewhere there, lurking in the background, overshadowed by "more important" things, but we should definitely acknowledge it more often. And have Reiner comfort him. :3

#thanks for the ask ✨#reijean #reiner x jean #veecanons

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countrymusiclover · 10 months

Text

73 - We're Screwed

Part 74

Gemini Runaway

Tag list ask to be added @icefrye19 @secretdreamlandmentality

Entering the bar it was packed with people with some who sent us confused looks at bringing children in here. Until Caroline compelled the manager to not think of anything of it. Sitting the girls down at a table close to the stage Missy pointed to some microphones. “What are those for, mom?”

“Karaoke night.” I told her simply.

Hope sat down on one of the chairs. “You should sing mommy.”

“Oh no I don’t think so.” Shaking my head I didn’t think it was a good idea.

Caroline walked forward taking my hand in hers dragging me towards the stage. “Oh come on, Rae. It can be fun and like I said you deserve some fun in your life.” Once our feet hit the stage I gulped remembering the last time I was on a stage.

“Woo go Rae. Care!” Jaocb hollers from the table with the girls sitting around with him. He raised a bottle in his hand seeing he had already gotten some bourbon for the night.

Pushing hair behind my ear I sighed, taking a hold of the microphone. Caroline grabbed her microphone then intertwined my hand with her free one grinning. “You’ve got this.”

Cami wasn’t working the bar that night so Rebekah brought us out for drinks that she was paying for. We found a table near the stage seeing the band getting everything set up for karaoke. “Ohhh I love karaoke!” Rebekah cheered.

“Then you should go up there.” I suggested downing a shot licliing my lips at the bitter taste of tequila.

Cami leans her elbows on the table looking at me curiously. “Raelyn, do you sing?”

“When it was just me and Jaocb alone in our room. Otherwise, no.” Shrugging my shoulders I shifted my gaze to Rebekah.

She downed another shot pushing me towards the stage. I looked over my shoulder seeing that they were both smiling. "Okay here we go I guess…..I figured it out. I figured it out from black and white. Seconds and hours. Maybe they had to take some time. I know how it goes. I know how it goes from wrong and right. Silence and sound. Did they ever hold each other tight like us?. Did they ever fight like us? You and I, we don't wanna be like them. We can make it 'til the end. Nothing can come between you and I. Not even the Gods above. Can separate the two of us. No, nothing can come between you and I. Oh, you and I. I figured it out. Saw the mistakes of up and down. Meet in the middle. There's always room for common ground.”

“I see what it's like. I see what it's like for day and night. Never together. 'Cause they see things in a different light like us. They never tried like us. You and I, we don't wanna be like them. We can make it 'til the end.” I paused, shifting my gaze towards the door to the bar.

The door shut before I noticed that Klaus had come inside. A huge smile graced my face when he ran towards the stage coming up beside me and taking the other microphone singing with me. “Nothing can come between you and I. Not even the Gods above. Can separate the two of us. (Two of us, two of us, two of us, two of us). 'Cause you and I. We don't wanna be like them. We can make it 'til the end.”

“Nothing can come between you and I. Not even the Gods above. Can separate the two of us. No, nothing can come between you and I. You and I. Oh, you and I…. “ I turned to face him and he did the same to me before we slowly closed the gap ignoring the crowd watching us. Klaus leaned forward pressing his lips onto mine. I smiled moving forward one hand up to grab his jacket kissing back briefly whispering the last line of the song silently to him. “Oh, you and I. We could make it if we try, you and I. Oh, you and I."

The people in the bar started clapping but he tugged me through the crowd. We ended up outside on the streets until we jumped up landing on the high railing looking over the city and the bright lights of New Orleans. “I want to ask you something, Nik. When was the moment that you knew you were in love with me?”

“It was the night my attempted to murder me and my siblings. When she held you hostage in a ring of fire. Because…because what is important to you, is important to me. What makes you happy, makes me want to keep you so. And what scares you, I want to tear apart.” He declares cradling my face in his hand while his other went to rest on my hip.

I chuckled, leaning into his touch finding comfort every time we were physically with each other. I burned to be with me every second. “You’d paint the world red to keep me safe. You’d give me a crown since you consider me a queen if you had one. And I would do the same thing to get back to you.”

“Speaking of a crown….Happy birthday Raelyn.” He reached inside his leather jacket revealing a tiny silver crown.

Covering my mouth with my hands I gasped through happiness. I cried examining the jewel in his hands. “Klaus, you didn’t have to go into your family’s collection and find that. You are enough for me.”

“Maybe so but it’s worth it to make you happy, forever and always.” He said lifting the tiara on top of my head softly. The crown was silver and had some red jewels sticking inside of it. “Just as beautiful as Queen Elizabeth.”

Touching the crown I gasped not believing he actually knew her. “You took this from Queen Elizabeth?”

“Rebekah actually did.” He smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t be mad I wouldn’t let her keep her official crown. Besides, if you don’t wear it just goes back into storage. And that would be a tragedy when you are stunning in it.”

Intertwining my hand with his I rested my head on his chest smiling at my hybrid fiancée. “I’ll keep it since it’s a birthday present. But if you tell me you took one of her gowns I will flip.”

“It’s more exciting to know that you seem to enjoy the timeless surprise.” Klaus turned slightly so we were staring down at one another again. “Every year it’s your birthday you’re getting one of my family collectibles.”

Draping my arms over his shoulders I kissed him, feeling him smile into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around my waist bringing me closer. “Thank you for this, Nik. You always find a way to pull me from the darkness.”

“And I will never stop. You are the light of my life.” He whispered, drawing me in for another sweet kiss.

Blinking through tears I remembered that I hadn’t done anything like this since Nik and I had been forced apart. Shaking my head Caroline squeezed my hand drawing some strength into me. “"You tell me that you're sad and lost your way. You tell me that your tears are here to stay. But I know you're only hiding. And I just wanna see you. You tell me that you're hurt and you're in pain. And I can see your head is held in shame,. But I just wanna see you smile again. See you smile again

But don't burn out. Even if you scream and shout. It'll come back to you. And I'll be here for you. Oh I will carry you over. Fire and water for your love. And I will hold you closer. Hope your heart is strong enough. When the night is coming down on you. We will find a way through the dark.”

“You did great.” Alina said, clapping along with the others when we got off the stage. We sat down with the others.

I smiled seeing that most of the crowd was now clearing out. Leaning back in my chair I recognized a girl with curly blonde coming towards us. Jumping down from my chair I couldn’t stop smiling. “Olivia Parker is that you?”

“No way, Rae Rae.” She gasped, embracing me instantly in a hug.

Jaocb got to his feet, eyeing our embrace. “Liv?”

“J, you’re here too. How have you guys been? Woah and you’ve got kids.” She hugged my brother when he threw his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

Tucking hair behind my ear I chuckled nervously at her. “It’s a rather long and complicated story. But these are my daughters Hope, Alina and Missy. And she is Jaocb’s daughter Andrea.”

“Well they’re cute. I never would have thought you would want kids.” Liv tilted her to the side.

“Neither did I. Uh, do you know that guy? He’s kind of stalking us.” I looked over her shoulder seeing a guy sitting at the bar watching us. He had dark hair like Jo and he was sending me a death glare.

Liv shook her head no. “Um no. I’ll find out though. I’m working the bar tonight. I’ll be right back.” She walked towards the bar where he handed her his ID.

Focusing my ear in their direction I could hear what they were saying. “1972. Nice try”

The stranger said back to her. “No. True story, but that's not the most interesting thing on that I.D. Here. Look again. Name, address…”

Liv gasped, dropping the card trying to run from the guy. “Malachai Parker. Oh, my God. “

“Holy shit! Caroline get the kids out of here right now. He’s here.” I snapped at the blonde vampire where she could read my terrified expression. She took Andrea in her arms and my triplets followed her outside.

Jaocb sent me a concerned look. “Who’s here, Rae?”

Taking my brother's hand in mine I pointed toward the bar where he focused his vampire hearing at the pair. “Ahhh.”

Liv starts to try to get away, but Kai restrains her with magic. “Last time I saw you…”

Liv winced when he was siphoning her magic away. “Aah!”

“I was trying to kill you. Why don't we pick up where we left off?” Kai smirked, smirking back at me and my twin brother.

I gulped feeling nervous not expecting him to ever get out of the prison world. “Kai Parker found a way to actually escape. We are so screwed!”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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house-of-slayterr · 2 years

Text

So Chaos Ensues…

Hannibal Family part 5 I think, for @iloveslasher

Hannibal’s POV:

Several days had passed since I invited Newt to live with my family and I. They were polite, attentive, nearly the perfect guest. I could tell they were overcompensating, scared I would turn on my offer and kick them out. But I couldn’t do that, not to Peter at least. He was smitten but wouldn’t admit it to himself. Besides, if things turned sour there would be a more permanent way to deal with things. And that was something I was sure Peter would despise me for.

Newt didn’t talk to me much since that afternoon. They knew I was questioning their intentions, and they weren’t keen on letting me in just yet. So I respected their wishes, only observing from a far. Not forcing them into another session. But something would have to be done about their father, so I decided today was the day to pay him a visit. What kind of parents don’t even realise their child has been missing for several days now. I suppose Peter and her had gone off to school, per my request, so their was no suspicion on that end. But if this were Peter I were talking about, I would have noticed my nephews absence right away.

A chance meeting, that would be my best bet. Peter had mentioned Newt’s father was a hunter. Perhaps I could accompany Will on one of his trips. I couldn’t let him in on it just yet, working with the law he’d try to get Jack involved in this case. That could be messy. So I made up a story about my evening being free, and simply wanting to observe Will outside of my office. He hadn’t been sleeping much recently, and I told him this might be able to help me understand how to help him better.

I suggested a spot, close to where Newt’s house was. The conditions were good for hunting, he’d surly be out tonight. Of course I’m sure Will had his suspicions, but he trusted me as his therapist, as his supposed friend, to not involve him in anything that would put him in a compromising position. So naive that man was. It was almost endearing. As the house passed and I observed in silence, helping him watch for any sign of wildlife, a strange thought dawned on me. Newt’s demeanour was eerily similar to that of Will’s.

The main difference was Will never pretended to be sociable. But they were both equally gullible, pliable, oh so easy to break. They had good intentions, their hearts guarded, but their brains left more open then they wanted anyone to believe. They were both loyal, like one of Will’s dogs. They wouldn’t bite the hand that feeds them, mostly metaphorically in Newt’s case. It was interesting, I would have to introduce them. See if they picked up on these similarities on their own. Will was difficult to crack, more than I’d like to admit, but maybe with Newt’s help I could kill two birds with one stone.

That’s when I heard it, the subtle snap of a branch. Prey was nearby. Will took a deep breath, aiming his gun and setting his sights. To focused to hear the cock of another gun nearby.

“You’d get a better angle from over here.” I whispered softly.

I was right of course, he’d be able to kill the deer with one shot, if he caught it from the side, not risking it seeing him before he could pull the trigger. But Will couldn’t see where the other gunmen lay in wait, just out of sight. Without question he followed my advise, and with one last breath he shot. The bullet easily pierced the skull of the inspecting deer, it’s legs wobbling almost instantly. But my ears perked up when I heard a yelp, the bullet flying through the poor creature as planned, and embedding itself into the flesh of the disgusting one behind it. Will cocked his brow, instantly standing, his body language stuff and ridged. I feigned ignorance as usual.

“What was that?” He asked.

I gave him my best worried look, and we made our way over. Newt’s father revealed himself, cradling his hand. And I was Will stiffen even more.

“I didn’t see you, are you alright?” Will asked.

He was worried, not fully over the fact that he just shot someone. But more so that he could get in trouble. That I’d report this in his file to Jack as some sort of mentally unstable freak accident. But I gave him a reassuring look.

“Perhaps your camouflage worked to well.” I offered lamely.

The man rolled his eyes, offended.

“We weren’t aware there would be other hunters in the area tonight. Our apologises. May I offer to drive you to the hospital, that wound doesn’t look particularly nice.”

I hated having to be nice to him, even if it was simply a means to an end. Besides, I wanted to put Will’s panicked mind at ease. He was probably running through this scenario over and over in that chaotic head of his. Silly man, this was unavoidable.

“That’s the least you could do.” The man spat.

“Hannibal, and this is Will.”

“Lucian.”

“I’m really sorry.” Will tried.

The man shrugged, pushing himself to his feet with a slight wobble. He looked over at the dear.

“Clean shot. Can’t really be all that mad.” He said.

“You can have it.” Will offered quickly, trying his best to remedy his mistake.

It was admirable really. Lucian simply smirked.

“May I see your hand?”

He raised his brow at me, but Will spoke on my behalf.

“He has several medical degrees. We’re quite far out so you might need some first aid before we can get you to the hospital.”

“A Doctor?” Lucian question.

The term sounded offensive falling from his mouth.

“Should have guessed based on your odd clothing choice. Aren’t you worried your fancy suits gonna get all messy?” He jeered.

“Not at all. This isn’t my good suit.”

The man shrugged, allowing me to escort him to the car. Will hoped in the passenger seat and I offered to drive. Conveniently his house was along the way, so I dropped him off and told him I’d drop off his car later. I didn’t need him caught up in this more than he already was. He didn’t need to witness what was about to happen.

I sent Morgan a text asking him to make sure Newt and Peter were out of the house this afternoon. When he sent me a text back telling me the house was clear, I moved on with my plan. Newt’s father should have noticed by now we weren’t heading to the hospital. But before he had a chance to try anything, I smashed his face against the window, knocking him out. When I made it to the house I spotted Morgan waiting in the drive way.

“Good evening Hannibal.” He said, polite as always.

“Good evening.”

“Who’s in will truck? What are you up to?”

“All in due time Dear nephew, in the mean time I’ll need your help preparing the basement. This guy can not be allowed to leave, but I’m sure his meat is no good.”

“Of course uncle.”

“And at all costs, keep Newt out of the basement. Peter would be devastated if they discovered our secret.”

An: sorry this took so long and it’s kinda short. I’m in hospital right now so I’m very tired. So writing might be a bit sparce for the time being. But feel free to send requests, I’ll get to them eventually. Love y’all ❤️

#Hannibal #hannibal family #newt #oc #Hannibal oc #dr lecter #hannibal lecter

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saltyxtides · 2 years

Text

ROWAN DELACOUR.

Bayden in Rowan’s body watched the expression on their own face as they backed up. It was clear Celestis didn’t like this reaction.

“What? Don’t like being treated how you treat me? Like the fucking plague? Now you know how it feels.”

She always treated him like touching him was going to give her cooties or worse. It was ridiculous. It made him feel awful. It looked like little Miss Chop Off Her Hair didn’t like the treatment much herself.

And he said something nice and he got an Ew in return. Gotta love the kindergarten come backs whenever Celeste was around. There shouldn’t have been a come back. God damn. Grown fucking adults. It was a thank you hug for something so nice for him. Something cool finally happened and she was going to go ruin it again by being a stick in the mud about it.

Bayden sighed already annoyed and exhausted by all the Celestis-ness happening. He rolled his eyes when she started to go on in his body about the witch school telling him to get out of his own house.

“Um, No? I don’t think so. I live here. I’m getting some clothes thanks. Your clothes suck. If I’m going to pretend to be you, I’m going to at least look good doing it.” He walked to his bag ignoring her request to turn the TV off.

“Turn if off yourself. I’m not your maid.”

He was pissed. Why couldn’t he just have a fucking friend who was nice? He was so sick of her being mean.

“You and me. We’re besties now. We wear each others clothes. It’s great. Get used to it. Your doctors are going to love me. Oh! And here. You mean old meanie.” He stormed over to his bag and cut the edge of the lining and a pile of Xannys fell out. “I’ve been saving these for you ever since we got separated because I gave a shit about you even though you’re a big megabitch neighbor.” Then he threw the whole pile at her making a clicking clacking of tic tacs shots all over that pelted in her direction. “Not that you care because I’m just so EW and all.”

Then he went back to his closet where he started to pull his clothes out of his bag to find something decent to wear instead what Celeste usually did. Now that was Ew. “I don’t know why you’re in such a hurry to get me out of here anyway. We have dinner coming. I just got out of lock up. I’m eating my burger with my shoe string fries. It’ll be here any minute. God damn. I’m starving.”

Then he really laughed as he started to try pull on far blacker clothes making him feel far more comfy in his Celestis skin. “You wear boring underwear. I wear cuter panties than you.” He laughed. “But, what the fuck, Bayyyyyyden?” He thought it was fun using his name towards her. “You said that place was a cult? You wouldn’t go there, but now you want me to go there? What the even fuck? What makes you think I want to go hang out with my sister now that I’m finally someone else. I can make this body look cute. I think it’s hot. I’m going out and getting a date. Actually… YOU owe me coffee Bayden.” They teased because Rowan never shut up about that coffee he owed them. “We’re going out and I’m looking good for it.”

Then their face fell with an oh shit expression.

“Oh no.” They were buttoning up some black jeans. “My sister is going to come visit you soon. She always comes to visit me. You don’t understand the delicate structure of what’s going on here. Mama needs you. You gotta act normal. You can’t fuck this up Celestis. I’m not joking.”

Oh, he thought he was free until that moment he forgot he cared. Then he started to panic.

Then the knock came at the door with their food delivery.

“You should get that. This is your house now.”

BAYDEN avoided them simply due to an act of paying them back from all the times they tried to protect Bayden from harming him from accidents like the one they were in right now?

The difference was they expected, or perhaps had some strange belief Bayden just naturally would accept the nature of there ability openly, yet they foreign-ly became reflexive && withdrawn after words.

In truth, they should have known better from the start since Rowan && never should have got there hopes up to begin with. Once they could move, they’ll just plan to stay six feet away from Bayden’s presence in Rowan’s body, knowing the issues occurred with themselves, as the issues always remained within themselves.

They didn’t bother to say anything. What was there even to say?

They loved once. It ended horribly. It made them vulnerable. It was different with Bayden. They really LIKED Bayden — trusted them — even c a r e d. Dropped there defenses around Bayden as they had always been careful. Did things they wouldn’t have for anyone else. But. . .love? Love was a horrible word, as they emotionally couldn’t handle that. Especially when Bayden used it unmeaningly anyway. Always acting tough && mean was easier to push people away to protect themselves.

The Wardeyn coming out. Bayden in Rowan’s body sounded so much like his own sister it was rather trippy.

If I’m going to pretend to BE y o u, If I’m going to pretend to BE y o u, If I’m going to pretend to BE y o u, If I’m going to pretend to BE y o u, If I’m going to pretend to BE y o u, If I’m going to pretend to BE y o u, If I’m going to pretend to BE y o u,

That face — Bayden’s face was pulled tight with pain && numbness. That hurt. It burned them. HOW CAN YOU GO ON PRETENDING WHEN YOU can’t even remember who you’re pretending to be?

Heart hammering in there chest, as they wanted to scream it out, only they held back. Getting up slowly in Bayden’s body, wincing at the throbbing in there skull. They felt exhausted, emotionally drained && empty, as there was a gaping hole deep inside them just building. As the body && the drugs where also something entirely new. Putting the TV on mute, as they slowly adjusted to walking in Bayden’s body turning the bathroom light’s on && turning the rest off. Leaving the TV && bathroom lights on as it was just enough light needed.

"You don’t know anything about me.” There was never a moment without pain, hesitantly, they probed there memories, wondering how much they truly remembered of themselves. After a moment, they realized the memories begin as far as Kathrine Greene’s care && everything before that was gone. . .There name, what gender they were born with, along with what they originally looked like. It’s a glitch that they had to live with now. Setting it straight:

“ROWAN D e l a c o u r.”

“You’re Rowan Delacour.”

“That’s the body you’re in.”

“Born September 13th, to two illegal cannibis farmers with three older siblings. Busted by law enforcement && separated from her siblings at the age of 7 into the foster system. By 8 — Rowan became fostered by KATHRINE G r e e n e. MISS G r e e n e appeared on paper to be the perfect caretaker but she was a living nightmare. Rowan was 8 — I was 11 when we met. Miss Greene preyed on Rowan’s vulnerabilities: The food was locked up && we were not allowed to access it freely. Miss Greene put Rowan into ice-cold baths, which led to long periods of frostbite && downing whenever she mentioned her family. We weren’t allowed out of the room during the night, so when Rowan had accidents Miss Greene locked her in the basement burning her with the end of her cigarettes' throughout the day. Miss Greene severely neglected, emotionally && physically abused anyone who was placed in their care.”

“That’s who you’re PRETENDING to b e.” A very shallow version of who Bayden was starring as in Rowan’s body was suppose to be. Leaving it short && easy. Learning made easy right? It hardly captured what the other neglect && abuse happened, the swap/fall out, the reasons why they hated them, && the years afterword's but it was enough to paint a picture. Enough to remind Bayden that the body he was in. Once belonged to someone before they came around && made things worse. Distancing themselves six feet away from Bayden’s soulful presence occupying Rowan’s body as they summarized The short && brief reality of Rowan Delacour. Once a child. Once a person. Being a SAFE && h e a l t h y distance to boost.

More && more the way Bayden talked && acted it reminded them of his sister. Or was it just always a Wardeyn thing? When it came to how one looks in the end? There was nothing they could do about it, as they knew. This was so very new to Bayden, as it’s very different from what happened between them && Rowan. Having lost half of there memories weighed on them heavily even frightened them a little, while Bayden’s coping mechanism was to be as apathetic as possible to the situation, only showing interest in the superficial lime-light glow they were casted in.

They didn’t flinch, when Bayden threw the whole pile of Xannex at them scattering tic-tac shots making a mess on the floor. Shaking it out of there hair. "You've got issues Bayden." This made them a little sad, a little angry, a little meaningless. They saved his flash drives/sketches && he saved Xannex yet they done it for the other, but it’s all now one-sided. They seemed to run there finger’s through Bayden’s hair a bit, as they looked away from Bayden/Rowan as there was silence in there absence. Not wanting to see the cigarette burns, the punctured taser burns, or the left over marks Rowan had on her body as Bayden changed.

Then Bayden compared them side by side. Again. Much how he compared them side by side earlier. Like they magically were on some equal footing with the same chances. Staring at the wall harshly with a mix of sorrow, anger, && pain. Sighing heavy, as it felt like the weight of the entire world was pushing down them today. While there was no running from this.

“You still don’t understand,” they said despondent. “I like you. && because I like you. I care what happens to you. You’re in a WITCHES body n o w. Uncontrolled magic like yours in a trained body like Rowan’s can be very dangerous. You could very well harm someone — honestly kill if you’re not careful now.”

They seemed lost for a moment, && then, hesitantly continued “I c a n t — my very existence is a threat to the QUEEN. They’d just murder me, && trap my soul in a object.” Or something along those lines. The difference between them was they were a natural born threat to everyone. Bayden in Rowan’s body was perfect as they most suited there needs && was best qualified there checklist. That’s why it’s a cult in the first place! They select who gets to LIVE && who d i e s. Though right now. They were very worried Bayden just might get upset or emotional && just accidentally blow someone’s head off telekinetically [ X ].

“Cute.” The sarcasm dripping from Bayden’s vocals. They could do what they want. It’s not there place to stop them. It would have made them laugh if things where in a lighter mood, but they were in a dark space right now. Listening to them talk about making Rowan look cute, as they could never imagine that. Going out && getting a date. That’s rather comical. “Do what you want. All I ask is don’t string Princeton along. He’s a good kid.” Doesn’t exactly deserve to be hurt, especially how depressed the kid could get. Maybe they should warn Bayden also that they are off the pill cause of Nurse Janet for about a month && half now? Eh, Tell them tomorrow. It’s not like Bayden could get into any sex tonight right?

Oh. There it is. The reality. Did it finally start to sink in just a little? “I can fool you’re mom for a while, but I doubt i can get around your sister.” Unfortunately, it wasn’t the acting, but the intuition. “Animals don’t like me, they sense there’s something absolutely fucked up about me. If you’re sister’s intuition is high — like Rowan’s then there’s no avoiding the fact she’ll know something is up. You’ll understand when it happens.”

Slowly obeying the Princesses orders, they did what they had to do, as they walked over to the desk putting it down. Walking away until they were six feet in distance again. Occupying the floor, in some corner holding on a blank && voided look, counting the pills they could see on the floor. What a troublesome mess that was. . . why did they do that? Just why. Augh.

#rowan delacour #━━ ✧ spilled ink. | interactions #montywonmom #━━ 🌊 saltyxtides. | ahv

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specialagentlokitty · 2 years

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Lucifer x reader - out in the open

You didn’t really know where to go after work, you had a long shift of doing paperwork, but didn’t want to go straight back home since you’d been sat around all day.

Humming to yourself and sat in your car, tapping your steering wheel while you thought.

You had been driving around aimlessly, but when a familiar club came into view you smiled softly and parked outside.

Quickly heading in, you looked down at the floor and found the man you were looking for sat at one of the tables.

“Hey Luci.” You smiled.

He looked up and grinned, offering you a seat in front of him.

“Hello lieutenant.” He greeted.

You took a seat and leant back with a content sigh.

Lucifer watched you for a few minutes before sliding his drink over to you, letting you finish it off.

“What brings you here?” He asked.

“I’m not sure, not ready to go home just yet I suppose.”

“Understandable, how about we play a game then?”

You thought about to is for a minute, you knew what Lucifer was like, but a game did sound like fun so you agreed.

“Brilliant, how about two truths one lie then. If we get it wrong we have to drink.”

“Alright, I’ll start. I have a dog, I’m not from here and I have green eyes.”

“You don’t have a dog. And you’re from here.”

Lucifer stated this with such confidence you didn’t know whether to laugh or be slightly hurt at the fact that he apparently didn’t know anything about you.

For years you’d known each other, you would have thought that he’d be able to tell which was lie.

“Lucifer I do have a dog. You looked after her for me yesterday. And I’m not from here.”

Lucifer blinked and you tilted your head a little.

“Must’ve slipped my mind.” He smiled.

You gave a weak laugh and sighed softly, lucifer listed his three and you thought for a moment before replying to him.

“You hate lairs, you hate it. Because lucifer Morningstar never lies. And you’ve been shot.”

“Someone knows me.” He teased lightly.

You guys carried on playing, both of you drinking a little more and more and eventually you stopped drinking because you had to drive home while lucifer carried on.

So far lucifer had yet to get one right, and it was starting to sting a little.

“Make this one interesting.” He hummed.

You laughed a little and nodded your head.

“My dream job was to be a police officer, I was stuck in a burning building, and I have feelings for you.”

“Well that’s easy, the last one is a lie.” He teased a little.

You smiled awkwardly and rubbed the back of your head.

“My dream job was a doctor.”

Lucifer took a few minutes to take this in, and you got more awkward in the silence so you just got up.

“See you later.”

Lucifer didn’t even react so you just left and went home.

You took a risk and it didn’t pay off, so you weren’t going to chase it. You simply decided it wasn’t worth it and decided to try and forget it even happened.

Grabbing a shower, you wrapped yourself up in a blanket and sat down with a film and a takeaway.

Your phone started ringing, looking at the caller ID you sighed quietly and turned the device on silent.

You kept seeing your screen flash with calls and messages but never replied.

A few hours slipped by, and eventually there was a knock on your door but due to how late it was you ignored it.

“Lieutenant!?”

You sighed, you had a feeling he would come here so you got up and answered the door, leaving it open so lucifer could come in.

You didn’t want to talk to him but it as late and you didn’t want to leave him outside even if he could take care of himself.

So without a word you went back into your living room and sat back down while he followed you.

He stood around for a moment.

“What do you mean?”

You knew exactly what he meant, and you wanted to avoid that topic for as long as possible.

“I really was stuck in a burning building. I went in to save some children, got them out but I got stuck.”

Lucifer sat in front of you, blocking your view of the TV, meaning you had no other choice but to look at him.

His eyes shone with a flurry of different emotions.

“Did you get hurt?” He asked.

“Naturally.” You shrugged.

You pulled your blanket from your shoulders and showed him your right shoulder where the burnt skin was long healed.

Then you pulled it back up and covered yourself up with the blanket again.

“It’s was a long time ago.”

“And the other truth?” He asked.

You stood up, leaving the blanket on the couch.

“It’s getting late, you can sleep here.”

You walked away, climbing into bed you tried to ignore the fact that you could hear lucifer pacing in the living room.

You didn’t know what to say, you’d been hurt before you didn’t want to face that pain again.

It’s why you were avoiding telling him anything or admitting you even said it.

After a few minutes of pacing, you heard a light knock on your door but didn’t turn over to answer it.

“What do you mean you have feelings for me lieutenant?”

“Forget it lucifer, it’s not important.”

“But it is. It is to me. So tell me, please.”

You didn’t reply and the bed dipped, lucifer sighed softly and you felt him lay on his back next to you.

“Okay, I’ll start how about that?”

You didn’t reply so he started speaking.

“I won’t admit that I understand why you’re refusing to talk to me about this. At the end of the day we’re both adult but I’m sure you have your reasons. I’ve developed a liking towards you lieutenant, I just didn’t know what to say because I wasn’t sure if you were already spoken for.”

“You don’t even know anything about me, we made that absolutely clear earlier I don’t even think you know my name. Now get out of my bed.”

“I know your name, it’s (Y/N) (L/N).”

Lucifer turned on his side, he gently placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Look at me.” He whispered.

You refused to and lucifer sighed, he got off the bed and walked around to the side you were laid on and laid on the very edge.

He was only a few centimetres away from you, he wrapped his free arm loosely around you, making sure there was enough room that if you wanted to move away you could.

“What did you mean back there…?” He whispered, “please tell me.”

“I meant that… I love you. But I know there’s that thing with you and Chloe…”

Lucifer blinked before chuckling, he placed his hand in the back of your head and lightly kissed your forehead.

“Yes, there was. But there hasn’t been for nearly a year now.”

Lucifer tucked your head under his chin, and pulled you a little tighter into his chest.

“Why?” You asked quietly.

“Because I love you darling.”

You hesitated, you didn’t know how to react but once the words sunk into your head.

He leant down and kissed you lightly at first, waiting for you to respond.

When you leant into it, he deepened the kiss, pulling you flush against him before you pulled back.

You smiled slightly and shuffled back, pulling Lucifer with you so he had some more room on the bed.

“I know you had a hard relationship, I didn’t want to rush you, I wanted you to let me know before I said anything.” He whispered.

You nodded your head and buried your face into his chest, since you realised you’d fallen for lucifer you wanted nothing more to tell him.

Now that you had it felt like a huge weight had been lifted of your shoulders.

Although you were tired, you wanted to talk about this but you decided sleep was more important.

Lucifer seeing you were tired covered you both up with the quilt and held you tightly.

“Go to sleep love, I’m here.” He whispered, “and I always will be.”

#lucifer fox #lucifer imagine #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer morningstar #lucifer Morningstar x reader

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christowhore · 3 years

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Redeeming Myself

pairing: chris evans x professor!fem!reader

summary: after breaking your heart and losing your trust, chris makes it his mission to prove to you how much you mean to him.

word count: 6.3k

warnings: age gap (reader is 29, chris is 40), angst, reminiscing on past actions, fluff, talks with therapist, chris makes up for bad behavior, slight alcohol consumption, smut, happy endings, rpf !!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!!

notes: the final installment of Pining for Professor. it was only supposed to be a one shot, but i got inspired and expanded it. it took a while cause writers block, but it’s here. for anyone who has read the series, thank you and hope you enjoy ! 💓🥰

i do not allow the reposting, rewriting or translating of my fics. these are works of my own and i do not give permission for any of the acts stated above.

join my taglist !

SERIES MASTERLIST • MAIN MASTERLIST

For a month and a half following that afternoon, Chris began to go above and beyond to mend his mistakes in an effort to regain your trust.

He knew that he shouldn’t have been forgiven for the hurtful words he hurled at you, the voice he raised, and his cold demeanor through it all. But you forgave him nonetheless, which he was eternally grateful for.

Chris suspected that his venom-laced words still took a toll on your overall being. He sensed it in the way your usual humming was kept to a minimum, as did your soft caresses to his body. The fun facts that you would randomly blurt out had basically become nonexistent.

You hadn’t tried initiating sex with Chris due to still being affected by his actions, which was understandable to the brunette.

He could tell you were being cautious around him, which broke his heart more than he could’ve imagined.

The two of you never really talked in depth about what happened, deciding to push it under the rug and move past it. But ignoring the elephant in the room could only last for so long.

That morning was no different. He had spent the night at your place and decided to wake up and make you breakfast in an effort to mend the faltering relationship.

You woke up to an empty bed, something that you were used to since Chris had always been an early riser. Getting your morning routine out the way, you made your descent downstairs with the smell of pesto guiding you down the steps.

Walking into the kitchen, you saw the sight of your topless boyfriend, donning only a pair of boxers and an apron. You watched as he studiously focused on the skillet in front of him. His intense focus and the sounds of eggs frying in the pan made him oblivious to your arrival.

It wasn’t until you made your way towards the fridge next to him, that he registered your presence. “Morning princess, you sleep well.”

“Yeah, I slept fine,” your voice still a bit gravely from your slumber. You poured yourself a glass of orange juice, ignoring the intense gaze from Chris in your peripheral vision.

He was so used to having you touch him in the mornings. Not so much in a sexual way, but more intimately. The way your lips would ghost against his shoulder blade, your palms would hold his sides and pull him against you so that way you could bask in his warmth. Your arms would wrap around his front until your fingers absentmindedly toyed with his lower abdomen, playing with the wisps of hair on his happy trail.

He missed when you would move your lips until they met the space behind his ears, giving light open mouth kisses. The sound of you whispering ‘Morning daddy’ would leave him awestruck. Even though the words were a regular occurrence for him to hear, it was the way you would say it in your morning voice that made it ten times more special.

Though those actions might seem minuscule to others, they meant the world to him and it was killing him that he hadn’t been able to experience such tender moments with you in a while.

“I’m making breakfast- pesto eggs and some bacon for you. It’ll be done in a minute.”

You nodded along before heading to the table, phone in hand while catching up on your morning news.

It didn’t take long before a steaming plate was placed in front of you, the scent of garlic and basil already making you salivate.

Chris sat besides you and watched as you dug a fork into your meal, a smile reaching his face as he heard your content moans.

The two of you ate in silence, only the sound of soft chewing and utensils hitting your respective plates could be heard.

Every so often, you would feel Chris peek at you, hoping for you to start up a conversation with him like you always did. It’s not like you didn’t want to, it was just that you were still hurting due to his words. You know from a psychological standpoint that there was something going on inside of him that caused him to lash out, which you understood. But it didn’t aid in diminishing your apprehensiveness towards opening up to him, afraid that another fight would break out and hurtful words would again be hurled.

He could sense the internal struggle battling within you so he spoke up, breaking you out from your subconscious.

“I know I’ve been saying this repeatedly over the past few weeks, but I want you to know how sorry I am,” Chris sympathetically stated, “You didn’t deserve what I put you through, the things I said. I just hope that we're able to someday go back to how we were.”

You sat there staring at the man in front of you. Was there a way that the two of you can revert to what once was? Could you actually forgive him?

Not knowing how to properly respond, you simply nodded. A tight lipped smile was evidence that Chris had a lot of making up to do.

Finishing up breakfast, you excused yourself to your office to go and work on your dissertation, leaving the brunette alone with his thoughts.

He knew that he needed to do something big to make up for his actions. He also knew that he needed to figure out why he lashed out on you.

Taking out his phone, he clicked on a saved contact and listened to the dial tone ring in his ear.

“Morning, I’d like to make an appointment as soon as possible. It’s an emergency.”

Chris sat on the plush maroon couch, his eyes getting reacquainted with the familiar setting. The office had a few knick knacks littered around the space. A potted plant here and there. Motivational, yet cheesy posters on the wall. An assortment of magazines on the coffee table.

He hadn’t been here in a while, his usual talks were about his anxiety and dealing with fame. But for this appointment it was about you- specifically how he treated you.

The new topic was foreign to him, resulting in the brunette not knowing how to address it. So he silently sat there as his therapist, Dr. Reynolds, held her pen in her hand and studied his behavior.

“So,” she cautiously started, “What brings you in today?”

Chris sat there twiddling his fingers at her question. There could’ve been a few reasons that brought him in, but the main one was why he said the things he hurled at you.

He proceeded to spend the next 10 minutes recapping the events that had transpired, making sure to not spare any detail. After his spiel, Dr. Reynolds skimmed through her notes that she jotted down during his explanation.

Looking up from her notebook, she locked eyes with the brunette. “Do you think that some of your actions correlate with self-sabotaging behaviors? How, when you opened yourself up to her so suddenly it made you feel scared? Scared that you might need to face those fears that are plaguing you.”

Chris sat there incredulously, “Well- I mean no. I don’t think so.”

The pair talked for over an hour, going over the usual allotted time as they broke down why Chris had acted a certain way.

He realized the anger he felt was a coping mechanism to avoid feeling what he truly felt: fear. Mainly his fear of commitment. Part of him was scared that any future marriage would end up like his parents, in divorce. He feared that you would stop loving him. He feared that he would stop loving you.

And that fear was ultimately pushing you away from him. Which uncovered the biggest fear of all, losing you.

Dr. Reynolds eventually received a knock on her door, indicating a waiting patient, causing their therapy session to be cut and saved for another day.

“Thanks doc, I think I know what I need to do now.”

After some much needed self-reflection made in the meeting with his therapist, Chris knew what he had to do. Leaving the office, he pulled out his phone and dialed his publicist, Megyn.

A few rings later, he went into detail to the blonde about his plan. Not caring about what the press might say, or how his fans might react, he needed to get it done.

She wasn’t too keen on dealing with the impending press that would come from it, but she was happy that he was able to find someone that he truly loved.

He went back to your place that evening with a refreshed mind. The rest of the day went by as usual, you both did your own respective things, the tension still heavy in the air.

As you both started on your own night routine, his main focus was on you. He didn’t even know he stopped brushing and was staring until you snapped your fingers in front of his eyes.

“Earth to Chris, everything alright?” your tone was light and airy, hinted with a bit of joy.

Chris looked at the slight smile on your face and was reminded all over again as to why he fell for you. That smile was something that was so ingrained in his mind that not even old age could make him forget it. It warmed his entire being whenever he was sad and it made him realize he could never take it off your face for the rest of his days.

“Yeah princess,” he whispered, still lost in you, “I’m alright.”

You nodded along to him, though your eyes squinted a bit due to being curious of his change in demeanor. Before he was overly cautious around you, now it seemed as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Before you could set your toothbrush down and set out for bed, he stopped you with a hand on your elbow, pulling you into him. Not caring that there were still dribbles of toothpaste in his mouth, he leant down and attached his lips to yours.

The kiss was soft, he was desperate to feel your softness against him though wasn’t trying to rush the act in any way. Moving his hand up, he held onto your cheek in an effort to pull you even closer than you already are.

The smell of your lavender night cream instantly calmed him, making him feel safe in your embrace and absentmindedly smiling into the kiss.

Chris finally pulled away, only slightly, to look down on you with a dopey grin. “God I’m in love with you.”

For the first time in weeks, a genuine smile reached your face to match the man across from you.

“I love you too love bug,” you sighed against his lips, “You probably should’ve rinsed your mouth though, I can taste your toothpaste.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, “Sorry, just got caught up in the moment.”

Chris kept you secured in his arms as he continued to stare down at you. There was something different about him, specifically the way his gaze was directed at you. Though you were not complaining.

“How about we bring back date night? I can cook and we can finally sit and talk to one another like we used to.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his pleas. It had been a while since you two sat down and basked in each other’s presence. The thought had you hopeful that things could go back to normal.

“I would love that,” you began, “How about Friday? I have a test for a few of my classes this week so we can do it once I’m all free.”

Chris smiled down at you with eyes evident of his admiration for you, “Friday is perfect.”

The rest of the week went on rather differently than previous ones. Your touches came back to his body, fingertips grazing alongside him whenever he was close. Chris would regularly kiss your cheek or top of your shoulder anytime he had the chance.

You did take notice of him on his phone a lot, part of it filled you with uneasiness but the rational part of your brain told you it wasn’t something to ponder too much over, so you let it go.

Chris had been spending the entire week making sure that his plan was rolling smoothly. He had the entire date night planned to a T. He informed his family about it, who were ecstatic for him, making his own mother tear up due to how happy she was. He made sure to have everything ready at the house so that everything would be successful.

The day of the planned affair, you were stuck in your home office grading the last set of tests before being able to officially clock out for the evening. Inputting the grades into Blackboard, you were brought out of focus due to the sounds of buzzing from your phone. Picking up the device, you unlocked it and saw the incoming text from your boyfriend.

Chris: Baby, I know you’re still probably finishing up, but dinner will be ready at my place at around 7. I put something on your bed for you to wear. See you soon!

The endearing message made you smile and also feel a bit elated. You missed the intimate moments shared between you and Chris. The loving looks sent your way, the delicious food and engaging conversations. But most importantly, you missed the sex. Before, the two of you were like jackrabbits, the longest you both went without getting hot and heavy was about 2 days. Now going on over two months, you were becoming insatiable.

Quickly inputting the final test scores in your online grade book, you got ready for your night in with Chris. Heading up the stairs, you walked into your room to be hit with a bit of nostalgia. Laying on the bed was the same black dress that you wore on your first date with him.

With the amount of dresses you had in your wardrobe, it was a shock that he was able to find the specific one you wore that night. The sentiment warmed your heart and filled you with hope.

Rushing to get ready, you went and got dressed, making sure that you appeared your best before heading out.

It was only a quick drive to his home, before you were sat in his driveway.

Your mind was plagued with worry. You feared that if this night didn’t go well, then it would ultimately mean the end of your relationship with the man. Taking in a deep breath, you calmed your nerves before exiting the vehicle and made the trek towards his front door.

Using the house key you still had attached to your own ring set, you unlocked the door and walked in though you didn’t get far when the sight before you made you stop and gasp.

Starting from the front door laid a trail of rose petals leading you through the house. The thoughtful effort made tears begin to form in your eyes and your breath unsteady.

Following the trail, the same smells of vegetables sautéing brought you back to that time over a year ago.

Once you made it inside the kitchen, you saw Chris with an apron adorning his massive frame on top of his suit. Once he took notice of your arrival he turned around and smiled at you. “There you are sweetheart. I was waiting for you to show.”

He turned down the fire before gliding towards you, about to reach down and kiss you when you beat him to it.

Grabbing a hold of either side of his face, you slammed your lips to his; the action surprising you both. You delivered him repeated pecks which caused the brunette to laugh between every one of your kisses.

Getting enough of your intimate fill, you pulled away from him and looked up. “What’s the special occasion? I mean I know it’s date night, but still.”

Chris brought his hands down to rest on the dip of your back before pulling you in closer to him. The action caused your neck to crane up to look directly into his eyes.

“I wanted to make things right with my best girl.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at the slight Captain America reference before delivering another kiss, “Thank you, I love it.”

The meal went according to plan, the two of you enjoying the same shrimp scampi dish he made on your first date together.

You were sipping on your glass of wine when you heard Chris speak up.

“Though I’ve said it more times than either of us can count, I need you to know how regretful I am of how I acted.”

You sighed at his words, “Chris, I said it’s-”

“No, it’s not okay (Y/N),” he interrupted you, “It wasn’t okay for me to lash out at you. It wasn’t okay for me to hurt your feelings.”

“Tonight, I tried to recreate our first date together to show you just how much you mean to me.”

Chris had rehearsed what he was planning on saying for the past few days, but here now in this moment he couldn’t remember a single prepared line. So he just decided to follow his heart.

“(Y/N). The day I met you, it was one of the greatest days of my life. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but fate brought us together- well I guess I should say Ma did with her insisting.”

His words caused you to chuckle, “I can see where you got your determination. She really didn’t quit until she finally got us in the same room.”

The memory of Lisa bringing you two together that afternoon warmed both of your hearts.

“That day we met was the day I knew that there was no one else in the world that would matter to me as much as you would. Every single day that I get the pleasure of seeing that look on your face will forever make me the luckiest man on the Earth. So when I hurled those words at you and took that smile away, it made me feel horrendous.”

You didn’t even realize you had started crying until you felt the warmth of your tears sliding down your cheeks.

Chris reached across the table and curled his fingers around your hand, slightly stroking the back of it with his thumb.

“I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend that I could be. I realized that my own fears of commitment caused me to take out my frustrations out on you, and absentmindedly pushed you away. But I realized that pushing you away was the last thing I ever wanted to happen.”

He felt his heart rate race and his organ beat heavily in his chest, his anxiety slowly rising.

“You are the greatest thing to happen to me. You make the worst days seem minuscule whenever you’re around. I love the way you’re able to always help push me through any obstacle I face, no matter how big or small it may be. The way you easily get along with my crazy family. And I love how you make me feel like I am floating on cloud nine anytime I kiss you.”

Chris felt his hands begin to sweat. One of his hands clasped onto yours, while the other held onto the small box in his left pocket of his slacks.

“A few days ago I had a session with my therapist about you. And during it I realized how much I care about you, and how losing you, even though it was brief, was the worst thing I had ever experienced.”

Slowly standing up on shaky legs, he brought you up with him.

“I had to secretly figure out the right size while you were sleeping the other night,” he began to joke, “You don’t know how hard it was to get the measurement done considering how light of a sleeper you are.”

You felt your heart pound in your chest. You suspected that something was different about his behavior and this evening, and your suspicions were slowly coming to light.

“I can’t ever experience the feeling of not having you by my side again. Waking up to a cold bed and not seeing the way your nose would sometimes crunch up while you're deep in a dream is something I never want to go through again.”

Chris reached into his pocket of his pants and pulled out a cherry red box. The sight of the gold inscription labeling 'Cartier' made your breath catch in your throat and tears fall freely down your face.

The height difference was changed when he steadily dropped down on his left knee, his tear filled blue eyes looking up at you.

“(Y/N), you make me the happiest man in the world. And I know it’s a stereotypical line for me to say, but it’s true. I love how you’re able to bring the best out of me and everyone around you. I love how you love everyone unconditionally. God, I love how fucking breathtaking you are. I am in love with everything about you.”

Letting go of your hand, he held the box in his grasp before cracking it open. The action caused your hands to cover your mouth and you to bend at the knees. With the aid of the lights around the room, it unveiled to you a marquise cut diamond. One either side were two stones. On the left was a pearl, indicating his June birthstone. The other side showed your gemstone, the rocks pairing perfectly with one another.

“So,” Chris began with a shaky breath, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you do me the honor and make me the luckiest person in the world. Will you marry me?”

Your body shook with sobs as you nodded along to his question.

“Wait, are you saying yes?” Chris asked, excitement evident in his tone. “I don’t know if that’s you nodding yes or no.”

Removing your hands from your face you grasped on to your now fiancé’s, “Yes, I would love to marry you.”

Chris didn’t even get the chance to put the ring on you before raising up and slamming his lips against yours. Both of you tasting the salty tears that expelled from the other.

It was his turn to lay a continuous stream of kisses to your lips. Soft chants of ‘thank you’ leaving his mouth between every one.

Pulling away, he retrieved the ring from its box as you held up your left hand. You watched as he slid the band down your finger until it situated perfectly against the base. A content sigh left the both of you.

Chris brought your hand up and kissed the back of it and then your ring finger before locking eyes with you.

You two stayed like that for a while, your gaze flicking back and forth between each other’s lips until finally you two connected them.

This time, the embrace was intimate, more passion filled. Your hands folded against the nape of his neck, the coolness of the gold band making him smile with contentment.

With his hands holding onto your hips, he guided you back until you were met with resistance from the wall behind you; the sudden force causing you to lightly grunt into his mouth.

Lowering his hands until his palms rested on the back of your thighs, he tapped on your skin, an unspoken request for you to jump. While securing your hold on his neck, you jumped up and rested in his palms. With you in his hands, Chris began to walk the two of you towards his bedroom. Since Dodger was staying at his mom's house, he didn’t bother closing the door, not worrying about any sudden intrusion.

Your mouth was still attached to Chris when he laid you down, you head against the soft pillow on the plush bed. His frame towering over you as he shook off the suit jacket from his body, kicked off his shoes and toed his socks away.

“I love you so much (Y/N),” he swooned through kisses.

“I love you too Chris.”

Untying the front of your wrap dress, the silk material fell to the sides of your body, revealing your figure which was only covered by a thin, lace pair of underwear. The sight of your half naked self made him growl down at you in desire.

Removing his lips from yours, he descended down your body, leaving kisses in his wake.

“You’re all mine.”

His lips kissed around your taut nipple, his tongue poking out to flick at your pert bud.

“Forever and always.”

You felt him leaving traces of wetness from open-mouth kisses on your abdomen.

“The love of my life.”

His fingers dug into the sides of your thong before dragging it down your legs.

“My beautiful fiancé.”

You breathing hitched as you felt his warm breath fan across your exposed cunt. The hot air was a stark contrast to the cool slick of your dripping wetness.

“The future Mrs. Evans.”

And with that, Chris flattened out his tongue before running a long stripe up your pussy, lapping up your wetness until he curled it around your clit. “Oh fuck, Chris.”

How exhausting the sexual hiatus that you experienced with the brunette was evident due to how you were squirming on the bed. Your hands spread throughout the sheets, gripping and tugging in an effort to gain some form of steadiness. Over two months without having him on you had you mewling into the air. “Please baby, don’t stop.”

With his tongue occupied, Chris continued to devour you. His tongue alternated between long drags and quick flicks between your folds. You felt the tip of his tongue prod at your opening in a desperate attempt to taste more of you- to feel more of you.

Removing his mouth, he heard you begin to groan in disappointment before it turned into a moan when he spat on your cunt then suctioned his lips around your clit. With one hand holding your stomach down, he used the other to enter your soaking hole with his index and middle fingers.

Chris was gentle with his digits inside of you, dragging his pads alongside your ways, stroking your contracting walls and feeling every ridge. Once he was knuckle deep, he scissored your cunt, basking in the sounds of your squelching around his fingers paired with your content moans of relief.

He replaced his mouth with his thumb, using the limb to draw slow, tortuous circles on your mound as he watched you fall into the deep recesses of ecstasy.

He observed your neck stretch back, exposing a slightly bulging vein running up the expanse. The way your lips quivered as your moans flew freely out. Your legs began to shake when he hit the spot he was all too familiar with deep in your core.

“Look at me,” Chris demanded, his Boston accent evident in his request, “Need’a watch my pretty girl cum all over my fingers.”

The eye contact with the brunette was intense, more fierce than ever experienced before, but you reveled in every second of it. You noticed how his pupils had become blown out, only showing a small ring of blue surrounding the black.

You tried to keep the gaze locked until you felt your orgasm come full force through your body like a tidal wave. “Christopher!”

Upon hearing your screech of desire and feeling your essence begin to soak his digits, he replaced his thumb back with his mouth, longing to taste every single drop of your sweetness. His fingers continued to pump inside of you, prolonging your release and causing more of your juices to flow into and around his mouth.

Chris finally removed his fingers to drink more of you until you attempted to feebly push his head away, the orgasm causing you to lose most of your strength.

“Sorry princess, you know Daddy just can't get enough of you,” Chris moaned as he licked your essence off his lips.

He rose up your lower half and hovered over you staring down at your exhausted self. You mustered the power to raise your arms and grasp his face in your hands before bringing him down to connect lips once more.

The kisses were lecherous, the both of you yearning to taste every single part of the other. Your tongue was firm against his as he massaged yours while you swallowed each other's moans.

Your body felt on fire with the way his large hands were massaging and caressing every inch of your exposed skin. His fingers digging into your softness and pulling you flush against his frame.

Taking your hands away from his face, you began to unbutton his dress shirt, peeling away the material until it unveiled his tattooed chest. Your fingers tracing the large design on his chest before making its way down to his belt, unbuckling it in the process.

Dragging the leather through the loops and away from his body, you unzipped his trousers before reaching in to palm his obvious erection. The action made the man above you keen against your tongue. “I wanna taste you Chris.”

With your thighs around his hips, you nudged him until your positions were switched. His head against the same pillow, he watched as you tugged down the material on his lower half, leaving the two of you completely bare for one another.

You laid down on your stomach between his legs before grabbing hold onto the base of his cock, drawing a hiss from Chris.

His head craned back at the feel of your wet mouth tonguing his length, the wet muscle licking a stripe from the base to his tip. “Ohh- that's it baby.”

You collected your spit before it dripped from your mouth and on his head, the liquid cascading down the massive length. Using it for your advantage, you began to stroke him while attaching your lips around his tip. Your tongue flicked his slit while drinking up his precum.

“God, I love you so much (Y/N).”

Removing one of your hands, you began to swallow his length, stroking off what you couldn’t take down. His moans and groans only stir you on as you bask in the feel of him throbbing in your mouth. With your free hand, you began to palm at his balls; the action making him grip the sheets as well as tenderly holding the side of your head.

His mouth was parted, showing only his tongue, as he panted out. “That’s it baby, such a good girl for me.”

Chris felt his peak slowly approaching, the buildup steadily growing with every swipe of your tongue, suction from your lips and tug at his balls. Though he would’ve loved to release down your throat and watch your mouth milk his balls, he wanted- needed to feel your warmth surrounding him as he coated your walls.

He went to unlatch you from his cock and raise you towards him. “I need to feel you,” he breathed out, “I miss the feel of you around me (Y/N).”

You crawled up his body til you were straddling his hips. Reaching down, you pumped his length a few times before positioning it for entry. The second you began the descent and his head met the resistance from your cunt, you both groaned out.

Chris couldn’t wait any longer so he brought his hands to your hips and fully sank you down on him, sheathing his entire cock inside of you. The action made you lurch forward with your hands planting themselves on his chest in search of stability.

“Oh that’s it princess,” professed Chris, “Missed this tight fucking cunt choking my cock. Missed you so goddamn much.”

With the help of his hands on your hips, you began to slowly work yourself on his dick. Every rise and fall of your hips made you experience the delectable feel of his veined shaft drag against your channel.

“Oh Christopher,” you cooed as you felt him throb inside of you.

“That’s it princess, I’m right here.”

You brought your hands from off of him and covered his large ones. Removing them from your body, you intertwined digits. The new position of your hands allowed the newly added engagement ring to gleam under the light.

If he had a camera, he would’ve wanted to capture the beauty of you in that moment. Every buck of your hips caused your breasts to bounce, the action enticing him even more than already. The sweat that began to form on your body caused your body to shine from the bedroom lights, making your body appear as if it were glowing.

He wanted to frame the glorious sight of you, but he decided to settle with the fact of knowing he would be able to recreate this exact moment for the rest of his life. Recreate with you as husband and wife.

He rose up from the mattress and maneuvered your legs to wrap around his waist before sitting on his haunches. The new position of your naked chest pressed up against his own while he fucked you on his cock was a sort of intimacy that couldn’t be explained.

The closeness of your faces allowed you to feel each other’s breaths warm your features. You could see pupils being blown, feel the sweat dripping off one another, and hear every single sound that escaped the other's mouth.

Attaching his lips to yours, Chris moaned into your mouth. “That’s it baby, cream all around my cock. Milk me til I fill you up with my cum.”

The heels of your feet dug into his lower back and your fingertips gripped onto his neck, leaving scratches in its wake.

You knew for certain that you would have bruises on your waist with the way he had latched onto you, raising you up and down his length.

With every thrust, your sweaty skin slapped together as his balls spanked up against your ass.

“Ahh baby, I- fuck Chris I’m almost there.”

“I know (Y/N), I’m right behind you.”

A few more harsh thrusts as his tip slammed against your g-spot and you were suddenly slammed into the blissful abyss of your orgasm. The tightness of your contracting walls caused Chris to achieve his own release. The shouting sounds of you two reaching your respective peaks echoed throughout the room.

Warmth flooded your body and your cunt as you felt Chris’s cock shoot ribbons of his seed deep into you. He continued to drag you along his length, hoping to prolong the glorious feeling of your pussy throbbing around him.

After the sensation of your peak began to wane, he fell back against the mattress, bringing you down with him.

The two of you laid there in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth radiating off the other.

Chris strokes your back, long traces of his thumb running along your spine as you both regain your breath.

“I’m in love with you (Y/N). So goddamn much.”

Still a little too spent, you nodded while your hands toyed around with his chest.

While you two sat there, a realization popped into the brunette's head, making him begin to stand up. “I’ll be right back.”

You watched his ass jiggle with every step out of the room, the sight making you chuckle. When he returned, he held his phone in his hand.

“Seriously Christopher, you wanna make a sex tape right now?”

A boisterous laughter left him at your assumption, “No sweetheart, not that.”

Chris sat back next to you on the bed as he scrolled through his phone gallery. After a few flicks on his thumb, he finally found the photo that you two took on your first date. You were as beautiful as ever, smiling at the camera as he looked in awe at you.

You watched as he loaded up Instagram and clicked on the plus sign to create a new post. “Chris, what are you doing?”

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

Choosing the desired photo, he went to begin typing out his caption that would unveil you to the world.

chrisevans: A little over a year ago this photo was taken on our first date. I knew from that moment that I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life, that’s why I eagerly asked you to be mine. (Y/N) you make me the happiest man that I could be. I know this past year and a half has been a tough one, especially with everyone in the world claiming that they were dating me while I kept you in the shadows, but enough is enough. There’s no one else that I would rather be with. There’s no one in this entire world that holds a candle to you. To your beauty, your kindness, your everything. You are the love of my life. As of tonight, my fiancé. And soon to be my wife. I love you more than words can describe princess. (Y/@/N)

Chris finished typing out his message before looking down at you, silently asking for approval. He watched as your index finger raised up and clicked on the share button, indicating the end of your secrecy.

A dopey smile made his face before he looked at you, phone in hand, “Now, about that sex tape.”

You laughed at his joke as he made his way to kiss you once more. The embrace was full of contentment due to knowing that things were back to normal with a growing relationship full of unwavering love, reinstated trust, and pure happiness.

A/N: and that's a wrap folks. thank you to everyone who read this series.

also i would like to say that this is in no way an indication of chris evans personality or character. this is just fiction.

if you enjoyed this, please make sure to reblog and comment. feedback is much appreciated !

* divider credits : @firefly-graphics *

#chris evans #chris evans series #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans one shot #chris evans fluff #chris evans x fem!reader #chris evans rpf #chris evans x reader #chris evans angst #chris evans fic #steve rogers smut #andy barber smut #ransom drysdale smut #pining for professor

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hotch-stufff · 3 years

Text

Meet the Parents

Gif is not mine

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Warnings!: angsty, mentions of neglect, bad parenting, fighting, arguing, lots of yelling, parents saying degrading things towards reader, but happy ending between reader and hotch obviously

Description: Hotch meets your parents that have never approved of you or anything you do, how will he react when they begin picking apart your life?

A/N: not rlly sure if i love this one, but I hope you guys do. Probably a bunch of spelling errors, just warning you.

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It was a bad idea.

Of course it was a bad idea.

You really didn't know why you had to go through with this.

You never wanted to have to introduce him to your parents. You had hoped this day wouldn't come. They were... not the best parents in the world, to say the least.

But you were engaged, getting married in only a few months, and your parents had of course heard of your engagement from your older sister. She had accidently let it slip on her last visit.

And now you had to introduce him. And God you were terrified. They had belittled and picked apart each and every aspect of your life.

It wasn't really your father, more so your mother. But he had never stopped her and joined in occasionally.

They had always hated your decisions. You had joined the marines straight out of highschool, and went to the FBI academy after 4 years of service. You had then quickly made your way to the FBI's behavior analysist unit, and that was where you had met your now fiance, Aaron Hotchner.

And of course your mother disapproved. She had always wanted you to go the traditional route. Be a stay at home mom, married with kids by the time you were 20.

You were now 28 and just getting engaged, so of course your mother was going to have some complaints.

But you had never expected how the night actually had turned out.

You had been wringing your hands the entire way there. Aaron had been worried about you for the entirety of the trip. Constantly sending you glances, taking your hand in his own and squeezing reassuringly.

"It will be alright, love." He would tell you. You would simply glance at him shaking your head.

He didn't know how wrong he was.

Soon enough you pulled up into the driveway of your childhood home. Your heart beat widely as you stepped out of the car, meeting Aaron on the other side.

"I'm sorry." He shot you a confused look.

"For what?" he had asked.

"Just apologizing in advance." And with that you rang the doorbell. You heard footsteps and the door was yanked open. Your mothers shrill voice rang through the air.

"Honey! They're here." She sent a smile Aaron's way, and glanced at you dissaprovingly. "Darling. What on earth are you wearing?" You looked down at your simple dress and rolled your eyes.

"Good to see you too mom." She shook her head.

"Of course of course. Good to see you as well. And you must be Aaron? We have heard nothing about you." You scoffed, quickly covering it with a cough, as Aaron responded.

"Yes, Aaron Hotchner ma'am. Its wonderful to meet you."he stuck out his hand for her to shake, but she just turned around and strutted away.

"Do come in, we wouldn't want dinner to get cold. You're already 20 minutes late." She scolded as she walked through the kitchen door.

"Mom, we are 5 minutes early." You stated simply. She laughed like you had said the most absurd thing in the world. You just rolled your eyes.

Aaron shot you a glance and you smiled softly at him.

You gathered around your table, hoping for a somewhat pleasant meal. You father walked in glancing at Aaron before doing a double take.

"Ah you must be Aaron." Your father held out his hand hesitantly. Hotch shook it respectfully introducing himself.

"Yes sir, Aaron Hotchner." He nodded politely.

You all sat around the table and began eating in silence. Small talk here and there but mostly silence, until your mother finally spoke up.

"So, you two met at work?"she asked, disdain present in her voice.

"Uh, yes we did. We work together at the BAU." You replied, catching your mothers eye roll but electing to ignore it.

"Yes, I'm the unit chief, and Y/n is one of our best agents." You couldn't stop him before he made his mistake. And you saw the realization flashed in your father's eyes.

"Unit chief? Like the boss?" He asked.

"Shit." You muttered under your breath. "Yes dad, like the boss." You said a bit louder.

"You're dating your boss!" Your mother exclaimed.

"Mom, its not that big of a deal, he isn't my direct boss, another agent is." You tried explaining.

"Ugh, this government talk us just too much at the dinner table." She sighs dramatically and you shut up, not wanted to start a fight so early in the night.

You all continued eating until your dad spoke again.

"So Aaron you must be significantly older than Y/n." Your father continued. Aaron nearly choked on his drink.

"Um, there is a small age difference yes. But we have never let it bother us." God this was painful.

"No but, why on earth would you bother with a young, disappointment like Y/n? I mean she's obviously gained some weight. She had a dishonorable job for a woman. She doesn't have a family, and jmis just now getting into a serious relationship. I mean seriously Aaron, you could do so much better than, her." You could not believe the audacity of this woman. Your mother effectively silenced the entire table. You felt tears gather in your eyes. As you tried to stop them from falling down your face, Aaron set his wine down calmly and stood up.

"Your daughter is very far from a disapointment." He stated matter of factly. "She is by far one of the Best people that I know. She is the love of my life. She is one of THE most prestigious agents in the FBI, and is apart of one of the best teams in the country. She is the most amazing partner in the world, and had become my favorite person. I dont know how you consider yourselves decent human beings when you can sit here and degrade your own daughter like this. And I feel sorry that you can't see how amazing she truly is." He was nearly breathless when he finished. You stood up beside him.

"Aaron's, right. You guys are the most indecent human bei-"

Anger had flashed in your fathers eyes as he stood angrily, slamming his hands on the table, effectively interrupting you.

"How dare you come into our house and speak such words towards us!?" He yelled at Aaron and you with a furociousness you hadn't seen since you joined the marines.

"Sit down and shut up!" Aaron yelled right back, furious that your father had just interrupted you.

You decided it was time to step in and leave.

"Me and my fiance will be leaving now. I hope you have wonderful lives. And the next time I hear from you it better be an apology otherwise you will never be meeting your grandchildren. And my my wouldn't that just be very indecent." You finished in a mocking tone, spinning around and walking away, Aaron hot on your heals.

You somehow held off your tears till you reached the car and pulled into your driveway and then you completely broke down.

Aaron held you the best he could over the console, trying his best to make you feel better

"Sshhh, sweetheart, its okay." He whispered into your hair. "That was so brave. I'm so proud of you." You smiled slowly pulling away from him.

"Thank you Aaron, for everything you said in there. I never would have had the courage to say anything to them if it wasn't for you. So thank you." He was about to protest, but you shut him up quickly by pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss.

"I love you." He mumbled against your lips.

You just kissed him harder, getting your message across loud and clear. You pulled away, wiping away your tears.

"I think they liked you." You mumbled a few seconds later, causing him to burst into laughter.

"Especially when I told your dad to shut up." You giggled at his statement.

"Especially then." You continued laughing as you leaned in kissing him again.

Never had you been happier for having a man like Aaron Hotchner.

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Check out my Blurb Weekend!! Only accepting blurb requests for the weekend, but regular requests will be open afterwards.

Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! If you would like an idea of what to request, here is my prompt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

#aaron hotchner x reader #imagine #angst #fluff #reader insert #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #sit down and shut up #hotch being hotch

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

Father of Mine – 2/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.

Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: absent father, subtle violence, mention of family death

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.

Part 1

Bruce was working in the cave when Alfred interrupted him.

“Master Wayne, a guest has arrived unexpectedly.”

Bruce gave him a strange look. Hardly anyone showed up to the manor unannounced.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Alfred added.

“Right,” Bruce sighed.

“She’s waiting for you in your office.”

Bruce found Y/N pacing in the room, refusing to take the seat that he was sure Alfred offered her.

“Y/N,” he greeted, remembering how she disliked the formalities last night.

She whipped around at his greeting. “Am I your charity case now?”

He feigned confusion. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

She looked offended by his lie. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You paid all of my outstanding expenses that my mother left me.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“Don’t try to lie to me,” she warned.

Bruce closed his mouth.

“Look, I don’t need your help,” Y/N sighed in obvious irritation. “Did you or did you not pay them?”

He took in a shallow breath, “I did.”

Y/N clenched her jaw as Bruce finally admitted his deed.

“I was only trying to help.”

“You can’t just throw money at me and expect it to make up for being a no-show.”

Bruce tensed.

Did that mean…Did she know?

“You read the letter?” He asked.

“No,” she clarified. “But I figured it out.”

“I had no idea,” he tried to tell her.

“I don’t care,” she almost snorted.

“You have ever right to be angry with me…”

“I’m not angry. I’m annoyed.”

She took a defiant step toward him and crossed her arms.

The heeled boots she had on caused her already tall height to make her be eye to eye with Bruce.

How many people had faced off with Batman and cowered with fear?

But she didn’t submit or show any signs of intimidation.

“Do you think I cried myself to sleep every night as a child, wondering where my dad was or why he didn’t want me?” Y/N hissed.

Bruce didn’t respond.

“You think I give a fuck about the father-daughter dances? Or whatever the hell people think dads are only capable of doing?” She narrowed her eyes. “The thing is…I didn’t need you. I didn’t need you then and I don’t need you now.”

Bruce felt sick as he listened to her.

“I have the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t have been there for those anyway,” she added roughly. “My mom loved me more than enough. I didn’t need anyone else. And she made damn sure of that.”

“So I’m not your charity case to make yourself feel better after my mom made it clear she thought it was better to keep me from you, than to ever tell you that I existed. Says a lot about what kind of person she thought you are, huh?”

When Y/N finally stopped, she was taking deep breaths.

Bruce wondered how long she had that all bottled up. He didn’t think anything she said was a lie. Y/N didn’t need him. That had become clear.

She had grown up to be a successful, intelligent, and independent young woman.

And she got that way without a father figure of any sort.

After a few moments, Bruce finally bowed his head and cleared his throat. “I never intended on making you feel like a charity case.”

Bruce saw as Y/N took in a deep breath and the guilt slowly took over her expression.

“Look,” Y/N sighed, “we finally know the truth. Let’s just…let’s just move on with our lives. OK?”

Bruce couldn’t deny that the suggestion hurt.

After processing the news over the past week or so, he realized he wanted to get to know her. This wasn’t the first time a child of his had been dropped on him far too late. He had failed Damian in so many ways because of it.

But Y/N was a young woman, fully developed and independent now. And Bruce couldn’t help but wonder that him being absent from her childhood had only benefitted her.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally told her.

Y/N didn’t know him well enough to hear the underlying pain in his words.

So she simply nodded and walked past him, having nothing more to say.

——————

Bruce adjusted his tie. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off his neck.

But he was on his best behavior tonight.

This year, the Gotham Gazette was given the honor of hosting the Pulitzer Prizes. And since Bruce and Wayne Enterprises donated quite a large sum of money to the Gotham Gazette, they felt inclined to invite him.

Bruce had every intention of skipping, until he found out that Lois Lane was receiving an award and Clark would also be attending.

He figured the least he could do was congratulate her and say hi to both of them.

That’s why he was trying to find them as soon as possible so he could and get the hell out of there.

Bruce finally spotted Clark talking to a woman whose back was to him. All he saw of her was the black dress and y/h/c hair.

He made his way over.

Clark noticed him when he was a few feet away.

“I see you’ve finally left your cave,” he teased with a lift of his brow. “I honestly didn’t expect you to show.”

But when the woman Clark was speaking to turned to look at him, Bruce swore he felt his heart stop.

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, clearly just as surprised at seeing Bruce.

None of this went missed by Clark. “Oh, do you two know each other?”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond. What would Y/N want?

So he hesitated.

“I shot him for a cover once,” Y/N answered quickly.

She was a shockingly smooth liar.

Maybe she got that from Bruce, too.

But she didn’t realize that Clark could hear her heart rate quicken, catching the fib.

“And how exactly do you two know each other?” Bruce asked, recovering quickly.

“Y/N works with Lois a lot,” Clark answered. “She basically refuses to work with any other photographer.”

Y/N managed to force a smile.

“I should actually go find her and say my congrats,” she answered.

“And I need to hunt down a drink,” she mumbled.

Both men caught it.

Clark was rather taken aback by how she fled.

The Y/N he knew was always charming and kind, usually life of the party. He’d never seen her dodge a conversation in such a way before.

As soon as she was out of hearing range, Clark gave a intimidating glare to Bruce.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” He asked Bruce.

But Bruce only clenched his jaw.

“Past fling?” Clark asked with a somewhat disappointed tilt of his head.

“No. Nothing like that,” Bruce quickly corrected.

Not only did the idea make him feel sick. But if rumors started of the two of them being romantically linked, Bruce knew it would only make Y/N hate him more than she clearly already did.

Thankfully, Clark took his denial seriously.

“She’s not my biggest fan,” Bruce added darkly.

“Y/N is a good friend,” Clark told him – almost in warning. “Lois and her have become rather close over the years.”

Then Clark smirked. “She does know how to hold a grudge though. And she’ll make your life hell...if you deserve it.”

Bruce’s brain hurt as he realized how easily Y/N and his path’s could’ve crossed. She had been friends with Clark and Lois this whole time?

“I’m happy for her,” Clark added.

“Happy for her?”

Clark looked at Bruce as if it was obvious. “She’s being awarded tonight, too.”

How could Bruce not have realized? Why didn’t he think of looking at the list of people being awarded tonight? He’d been dreading attending so much that he didn’t even consider it.

“Bruce?” Clark asked with concern.

“Hmm?” He was not one to hum or mumble.

“You alright?”

Bruce didn’t have a lot of friends.

But Clark Kent was one of them. And him and Diana had noticed how Bruce was acting off for weeks now. Bruce was notorious for remaining stoic and giving nothing for people to try and guess what he was thinking or feeling. But they both knew it was something different.

Someone over Bruce’s shoulder suddenly waved Clark over.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Clark told Bruce politely.

Bruce’s first instinct was to leave now that he knew Y/N was also in attendance.

But he knew he couldn’t act so cowardly.

Was he really that scared of his own daughter?

His eyes glanced around the room looking for her.

He spotted Y/N at one of the bars.

Either her conversation with Lois had been quick, or she simply used that as an excuse to get away from Bruce.

Bruce walked up beside Y/N at the bar.

He knew she felt his arrival by the way her body tensed.

“Had I known you would be here I would not have attended,” he told her while looking straight ahead.

Y/N ignored his apology. “How do you know Clark?”

“He’s a friend,” Bruce answered casually.

Then he allowed himself to take a sideways glance at her.

Her jaw was clenched.

He wondered what thoughts she was holding back.

Y/N really did remind him of her mother.

When they were together, Bruce was convinced she was the prettiest girl in the world. He wondered if Y/N had found someone in her life who told her the same.

“Congratulations on being honored tonight,” Bruce offered sincerely.

“Thank you,” she answered shortly.

A beat passed between them.

Bruce was about to give up and leave her be.

“Does Clark think I’m one of your one-night stands now?”

Y/N might not know Bruce well, but everyone was familiar with his romantic history. He wasn’t one to keep the same woman around for long.

“No,” he quickly answered. “I made sure to prevent such a rumor from starting.”

Y/N finally slowly turned to him, her annoyance clear. “And you’re convinced that he really believed you?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Clark has always been rather good at detecting a lie.” His tone was so confident that it left little room for argument.

But Bruce knew a losing battle when he saw one.

He dipped his head. “Enjoy the rest of your night. Congratulations again.”

But Bruce lingered, debating if he wanted to say what was on my mind.

“You look very beautiful. Just like your mother.”

There was nothing creepy or contrived about it.

Y/N blinked at the compliment, completely taken aback.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Bruce dipped his head and finally surrendered, leaving the party.

Y/N felt a presence behind her shoulder as he watched him leave.

“Was Bruce Wayne just hitting on you?” Lois asked with amusement.

“No. Not at all,” her tone was dazed and confused.

“He’s a good guy,” Lois told her lightly.

“Doubt it.”

“I mean it,” Lois insisted. “The media has given him a bad image. But I think he likes it that way,” she shrugged. “It’s not easy for him to open up. He’s not quick to trust.”

Lois thought she was building up a possible suitor for Y/N, having not a clue that she was describing Y/N’s father to her.

But Y/N was too busy thinking about how much Bruce sounded like her.

—————

A few weeks had gone by since Bruce and Y/N had run into each other at the ceremony.

It got Bruce to thinking: would he and Y/N had run into each other at some point in life – even without her mother’s posthumously confession?

Y/N knew Lois and Clark, lived in Gotham, seemed to know the same people through her work that Bruce was forced to interact with to keep up his persona.

Would he have sensed a connection had that been the case?

The possibilities kept Bruce up at night…along with the guilt that had already been eating away at him since he first read the later. And he’d read it 100 times more since.

Of all the boys, Dick was the only one that knew of Y/N’s existence. And if he hadn’t been at the right place at the right time, Bruce never would’ve told him. He had just been in shock after reading the letter that he blurted out the realization while Dick was in the same room.

Since then, Bruce didn’t linger in a room alone with him, knowing Dick would finally let all of his questions loose. And Bruce wasn’t ready to answer them.

While Tim was the one to connect them, he never followed through with what the situation was. He already had too much to deal with on a daily basis. Tim simply thought he was doing a nice favor for a beautiful woman.

But if Bruce had told him, Tim would immediately do every possible background check on Y/N. He would be suspicious of the timing and underlying motives. He would probably assume that Y/N’s end goal was to get money or fame – or both. Bruce knew eventually Tim would come to the conclusion that Y/N wanted neither of those things. But it would still get an unnecessary rise out of the boy.

Bruce didn’t even want to think about how Damian would handle it. He knew his son felt a certain level of pride from being the only blood-son of his. Knowing he had a sibling – and an older sister at that – would most likely enrage him. And that wouldn’t make anything better.

Jason…Well, Jason would get a kick out of Bruce letting down yet another child. And it would just be worse that she was blood related. He’d be curious about Y/N. Hell, he’d probably be tickled by the no-bullshit attitude Y/N had towards Bruce and her harsh efforts to keep him out of her life completely.

Now, Bruce sat at a Justice League meeting.

They were only a few minutes into a council session when his communicator started going off.

The boys knew not to contact him unless it was an emergency. So, he quickly excused himself and stood to leave the room.

“What is it?” Bruce answered, his Batman voice in full form.

“There’s been an attack at city hall,” Dick reported back hurriedly.

Bruce frowned. The boys had handled much worse things on their own before. There had to be more to it than that.

“Scarecrow,” Dick confirmed. “He released a fear toxin. It’s bad Bruce. The mayor has been infected, along with half of their staff. I think it’s a new string. Our antidote doesn’t seem to doing anything. Even if it did, we don’t have nearly enough for the amount of victims.”

“The others?” Bruce asked quickly – meaning Damian, Jason, and Tim.

“They’re fine. Jason’s trying to get everyone out before they inhale too much. Tim and Damian went after Scarecrow. GPD is in a panic.”

Bruce turned to see Clark had raced to his side. Clearly he had been eavesdropping on the conversation. But the expression in his face prevented Bruce from getting into an argument about it.

“What?” Bruce asked him, knowing something was wrong.

“Lois and Y/N were at that council meeting,” Clark breathed out.

“We’ll be there soon,” Bruce told Dick before hanging up.

—

Bruce thought he knew fear from the few times his boys had been in trouble. But it was nothing compared to the fear he had knowing it was Y/N this time. She wasn’t a trained vigilante; she was just an innocent civilian. Bruce had not insured that she was trained and could take care of herself.

As soon as Clark dropped them on the ground, they were in the midst of the chaos.

“Lois!” Clark yelled.

People were too distracted to notice Superman and Batman had arrived.

Bruce looked over to see Lois rushing to Clark. He could tell it took all of Clark’s willpower not to embrace Lois from his relief.

“Are you OK?” Clark asked as he dipped his head and his eyes raced across his wife’s body.

“I-I’m fine. I got lucky. Somehow I was out of range of the gas explosion.”

“Y/N?” Bruce interrupted. “Did you see Y/N?”

“She was helping these kids get out and I was getting shoved out of the building. I tried to get to her but it was impossible with everyone’s panic. I think she’s still in there.”

Before Bruce could turn to Clark to come up with a plan, Clark flew into the building. A few people finally noticed the presence of superheroes and started murmuring.

“Nightwing, Red Hood – I’m at the front entrance of City Hall.”

Clark flew back to them not even 30 seconds later.

Y/N was unconscious in his arms.

“Oh my god,” Lois muttered at Y/N’s condition.

“She’s gone into shock. We need to get her to the medics,” Clark informed them. “She was exposed to the toxin more than the others.”

But Bruce was already shaking his head. “They won’t be able to help her.”

Clark gently handed Y/N to Bruce as he explained, “There are others in there.”

Just then Nightwing and Red Hood dropped in front of them.

Nightwing immediately recognized Y/N and his eyes shot up to Bruce with worry.

“Nightwing, I need you to take her back to the cave,” he tried to sound as controlled as possible.

Bruce was confused why Dick hesitated to take Y/N out of his arms.

“Do you have the batmobile? I brought my motorcycle,” Dick sounded apologetic when he explained.

Jason stepped forward before Bruce could answer. “I got her.”

As if she were the most fragile being ever, Jason carefully took Y/N’s unconscious body from Bruce’s grip. He could see in Bruce’s gaze that she was someone special. How and why, Jason would figure out later.

Jason had seen Y/N trying to help as many people before she was completely poisoned from the toxin. She’d risked her life to help.

Watching Jason cradle her into his body caught Clark off guard, always seeing the brute strength and almost animalistic energy from Red Hood whenever they so happened to fight beside each other.

“Meet us at the cave,” Bruce clarified. “Alfred will know what to do. We have to help out here more.”

Jason nodded before he hurried away with her and rushed to his hidden car.

——————

Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she shot up, sitting in a cot.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a voice she didn’t recognize said beside her. “You gotta relax.”

She turned to see a mammoth of a man sitting beside her, wearing vigilante gear with at least two guns being displayed at his sides. But it was the red helmet completely hiding his face and true voice that made Y/N feel uncomfortable.

“What the fuck,” she groaned at the sight of him.

Just a few seconds later, two men rushed into the room.

Bruce walked in still in his Batman uniform, but without his cowl – to Jason’s shock.

Clark was beside him, making Jason confused as to why he was still here. Surely he would want to be with Lois.

Y/N took in the sight before her.

“You were poisoned with a new strand of Scarecrow’s toxin,” Superman explained.

Y/N had seen plenty of pictures and shaky video of him. But now that the man stood before her, she immediately recognized him.

“Clark?” She gasped.

He didn’t say anything. But his expression didn’t fight her realization, just silently waited for the truth to settle.

“Does Lois know?” Was her next question.

Clark smirked at that. “Of course.”

Y/N gave a slight nod.

But now her attention switched to Bruce.

The Batman symbol was large across his chest, and his cape was still intact.

She looked around her surroundings and then up at the ceiling.

They were in a cave.

“You’re…you’re…” she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Batman,” Bruce finally offered.

Y/N’s eyes were wide with panic.

How was this possible?

Now that the others had exposed their identity, Jason felt inclined to take off his helmet. Clearly, it was making her uncomfortable.

The hiss of his helmet being removed caused Y/N to finally look away from her father and to Jason, who still wore a domino mask. But it was far less frightening than the helmet.

“We’ll give you two a moment alone,” Clark spoke for both him and Jason.

Jason nodded and stood up from the seat beside Y/N, and walked out.

Clark lingered in the doorway. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he told her.

He might’ve revealed his Superman identity to her, but she was still his friend.

Y/N managed to nod in thanks, but was clearly still shook by all this news.

Bruce very slowly made his way to the chair that Jason had just been sitting in.

“How are you feeling?”

She shook her head. “Body’s sore. Migraine is killing me. What happened?”

“You were more exposed to the toxin more than the other victims. Jason brought you here. We had to make a new anecdote, and quickly.”

Bruce wanted to add that she could’ve died. But he didn’t see the use in scaring her.

“Oh,” was all she managed to mumble.

An awkward silence settled between them.

“Very few people know the truth about me,” Bruce explained.

Y/N’s gaze flickered up from her lap to look at him.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I figured I couldn’t ask you to allow me into your world if I didn’t allow you into mine.”

She was silent.

“Y/N…” Bruce cleared his throat. The time had come. “The reason I left your mother was because I was starting this life. I pushed her away to protect her. I knew I couldn’t be the man she deserved while also being Batman. Had I known the truth…”

His words died out. It was starting to become harder to control his emotions.

He leaned forward in his chair, just getting slightly closer to her.

“Had I known about you, I would’ve…” He cleared his throat to try and hold back his tears. “I never would’ve abandoned you or your mother.”

He leaned back then. “But I know those are just words. And to you, they probably sound like empty promises for the past.”

“She never knew?” Y/N whispered.

In the few moments she was allowed to process this information, her mind immediately wondered if her mom had known about Bruce’s double life all along. And that’s why she kept him away from her.

Bruce shook his head.

“Thank you…for trusting me enough to tell me your secret,” Y/N finally told him. “I promise I’ll never tell anyone,” she quickly added, feeling like she just needed to clarify that to him.

He gave her a small small, “I know.”

Y/N winced as she thought about how terrible she’d been to him all this time. Now that she knew the truth – the whole truth – she was looking at everything with a new perspective. Even what she knew about Bruce Wayne, the spoiled socialite... it was clearly all wrong.

He used it as a cover. It was all a cover.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you,” she whispered shakily.

But Bruce shook his head before she could even get the apology out.

“Do you think it’s too late for us?” She breathed.

Could they ever find any fragment of a father-daughter relationship?

Y/N was an adult – she had been for years now. And she made it clear she didn’t need nor want a father.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me,” Bruce sighed.

Her brow furrowed. “This meaning…?”

“My son, Damian. His mother kept him a secret from me. She didn’t reveal his existence until he was nine. And she only did it in an attempt to disrupt my life.”

“This seems to be a rather strange pattern in your life,” Y/N couldn’t help but point out.

Bruce glared at her, causing her to chuckle.

“My point is,” he continued, “I don’t think it’s ever too late.” And he cleared his throat quickly. “That is, if you want to try.”

“I think I do,” she answered with a shy smile.

It was the first time she’d done so in his presence.

“I don’t know anything about raising a daughter,” Bruce rubbed his face as he attempted to make the joke. But she could tell there was sincerity there, too.

“Well, I’ve already been raised,” Y/N laughed.

There.

That laugh.

It brought Bruce back to his teenage years. It sounded so much like her mother. Her face lit up just like her’s had.

“You remind me so much of your mother,” he gasped.

Her face dropped at his confession.

“Really?”

He nodded. “She said you were just like me. But there’s more of her in you than I think she ever realized.”

Bruce saw his much his words effected her.

Y/N’s eyes were shiny with tears, but she managed to hold them back.

“So what now?” She quickly asked, obviously trying to distract herself so she wouldn’t have a complete emotional breakdown.

“Well, Alfred should have dinner ready soon. Would you stay?”

She gave him a tear-filled smile. “I’d like that.”

“You can meet the rest of them,” Bruce told her casually as he stood.

“The rest of them?”

He nodded. “Well, you only have to meet Damian now. You already met Jason, Dick, and Tim in passing.”

“And here I thought you had no idea how to be a father…” Y/N muttered with amusement.

Bruce helped her get out of bed, making sure she was alright to stand and walk on her own.

“Well, depending on which of them you ask, they might tell you that you’re right.”

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

Thank you to everyone who read the first part. Let me know what you think <3

BONUS: This Game of Ours

#father of mine #father of mine part 2 #bruce wayne reader insert #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #batman x daughter #batman x daughter!reader #batboys #batfam #bruce wayne angst #bruce wayne fic #batman fic #batman universe #batman family

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tyonfs · 4 years

Text

i like me better (when i’m with you)

PAIRING ▸ jeong jaehyun x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ friends to enemies to lovers, college au, sports, friends with benefits, smut, crack, fluff

WARNINGS ▸ sexual !! tension !! lots of it, smut (public sex, fingering, hate sex, raw sex, pool sex, oral sex), mark lee cockblocking, also yes, there’s actual fluff

SUMMARY ▸ there was no one else on the planet that made your blood boil like jeong jaehyun did. you never thought your feelings toward him were anything past pure hatred, but when you were lost in the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you couldn’t help but think that maybe a part of you didn’t completely hate his guts.

PLAYLIST ▸ i like me better by lauv • unravel me by sabrina claudio

WORD COUNT ▸ 11896 words

TAG LIST ▸ @gotoartistprofile @chanluster @steamyjaehyun

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ big shoutout to fia for hyping me up to complete this and i hope you guys enjoy it !! thank you so much for reading ♡ part of the dunk shot! series but can be read separately!

SOMETIMES, THE AMOUNT OF HATRED YOU HAD FOR JEONG JAEHYUN AMAZED YOU.

To the average human being, Jeong Jaehyun was, in a sense, perfect. On the surface, he was everyone’s trademark Golden Boy—good grades, athletic, and a seemingly good personality. The last point, however, was a complete and utter lie. Simply put, Jaehyun was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and you, unfortunately, wound up becoming his target.

If it weren’t for your love for cheerleading, you probably would never have to see Jaehyun, but your passion came with a price. Competitors were often asked a series of questions, and these questions typically included inquiring about your hardships as an athlete. If someone were to ask you what the hardest part of being a cheerleader was, your answer would not be what they expected.

It wasn’t getting back up after bad falls that left you with bruises and a concussion. It wasn’t dealing with the basketball team’s aftermath of a devastating loss and having to cheer them on through it. It wasn’t waking up extra early for morning practices, or having to push yourself to run miles in the sweltering heat. Hell, it wasn’t even dealing with the horny basketball team members at afterparties.

It was the annual training camp.

Every winter, the team attended a week-long training session along with several other teams in the city. With state-of-the-art facilities and a massive training center, the training camp was an event that the entire team looked forward to. Although the training was brutal, the luxury of the hotel rooms and the gourmet meals had made up for all of that. Yet, despite all of that, the camp itself was still hell for you.

It wasn’t all bad, though. In fact, you indulged in the concept of a training camp, delighted with the opportunity to meet cheerleaders from different universities. A handful of your friends from high school had joined teams at different universities, so it was exciting to get to see them all again. All in all, it was the whole package deal: friends, your favorite sport, and fun times. What could possibly ruin that?

Well, a certain someone by the name of Jeong Jaehyun could, and that wonderful individual incensed your fury quite like no other.

“You again,” you spat, clutching your duffel bag strap. You had just gotten off the bus to head into the hotel, but the devil himself was blocking your way.

“Y/N,” the devil cooed, “do you need help carrying that?”

“I’m fine.”

You shrugged Jaehyun off and tried to move past him, but the bane of your existence had other plans. He tossed you a small carton of milk; it was the kind you could buy at a vending machine. Your reflexes kicked in just in time for you to catch it, giving him a questioning look.

“You should be drinking more milk, Y/N. It’s good for you,” Jaehyun said. You were sure he was going to make a snide comment so you opened your mouth to protest, but he continued, “Jaemin likes big tits, you know?”

Ouch.

You and Jaehyun went farther back than you’d like to admit. While you did currently attend different universities, you had the joyous experience of going to the same high school as him. He wasn’t too different now; he had the same dimpled smile, the same godly features, and the same cocky smirk when things were going the way he planned. What was different was that you two were once friends.

And what took the cake? You had a big crush on his friend and fellow teammate. Introducing Na Jaemin, everyone.

It wasn’t like you never got over Jaemin, but you had to admit that your heart still fluttered pitifully whenever you saw him. It didn’t help that he was so breathtakingly beautiful, so undeniably genuine, and such a sweetheart. Unfortunately, Jaehyun knew of your little secret. Being the conniving little snake he was, he used it to his advantage.

Ever since your fallout with him in your senior year of high school, you’ve hated Jeong Jaehyun, and you were sure he hated you right back. It almost felt akin to the competition at this point, and you were a pretty sore loser. Honestly, you were sad initially when he broke off your friendship in senior year and threw crude insults at you. You normally didn’t let things get to you, but it hurt to hear that your best friend didn’t want anything to do with you after you had told him you were going to a different university. You were sure the both of you had grown past that, but now he had changed from a sincere highschooler to a complete low-life piece of shit.

“You’re a douche, Jaehyun,” you sneered.

A grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I know.”

You scoffed. “God, if I could, I would smash that pretty face into—”

“Hey!” a loud voice laced with trepidation interjected. It was your best friend on your school’s basketball team, Mark Lee, coming to your rescue; or, rather, he was trying to prevent you from doing something you’d most probably regret. He shot Jaehyun a warning look and slung an arm around your shoulders. “Y/N, what’re you doing here? We have to check into our hotel rooms.”

You looked back at Jaehyun to see a smug look on his face before he turned to catch up to Taeyong and Jaemin. You looked back up at Mark, who was also keeping an eye out for the demon in disguise.

“Thanks for getting me out of that mess,” you mumbled. “That guy is so infuriating. I can’t believe he still brings up Jaemin when I’m clearly over him!”

Your words were sharp enough that Mark and the people around you flinched, even if they weren’t completely paying attention to your rant. It was common knowledge that Jaehyun’s presence left you in low spirits, and Mark had come to terms that you would always be in a bitter mood during the training camp, and that there was only one person to blame for it.

Mark shot you a sympathetic look that you knew was intended to show his helpfulness, but instead just served to make you appear all the more bitter.

“Why don’t you just ignore him?” he suggested. “He’s just looking for a reaction out of you.”

“If I let him get the last word, then he wins.”

“At least he’d stop bothering you,” Mark reasoned as you both made your way to where your team had gathered by the reception desk.

“Is this about Jaehyun again?” Zhong Chenle chimed in, a devilish grin plastered across his face. “You’re a handful, Y/N.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped.

Chenle just stared at you, arching a brow as if the answer should have been obvious. “You and Jaehyun,” he said, “there’s some tension there.”

“Wow, Sherlock Holmes. Observant, aren’t you?” you spat, words dripping with sarcasm. “We’ve hated each other for years. Of course there’s tension.”

Johnny Suh snorted, averting his gaze as to not bring attention to himself. Chenle rolled his eyes, a delighted smile on his face as he watched you carefully, digging into his bag of chips in the meantime.

“Y/N, I think he means a different kind of tension,” Mark said.

“What kind of tension?” you asked, shocking the rest of them with your surprisingly innocent response. In retrospect, it was more because you couldn’t imagine the answer being anything past the realm of hatred.

While they all hesitated to respond, Johnny spoke up, “He meant the ‘I wanna beat you up and then have rough sex with you’ kind of tension.”

You immediately froze—long enough for Chenle to take a picture of your reaction—the expression on your face a cross between incredulity and visceral rage. You must have looked like a ticking time bomb because Mark had to take a cautious step back.

“Come again? Rough sex?” You were well aware of how strangled and pitched your voice sounded as soon as it escaped your lips, how guilty it sounded, but you couldn’t focus on that as the weight of Johnny’s words were sinking in. “Jaehyun and I?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Johnny answered.

“That’s a lie.”

“Yeah? Then why do you two always look at each other so weird?”

You didn’t know how to defend yourself now so you just said, “He’s a bastard and I would never see him in any other way.”

“You say that now but we all know—”

“Alright, let’s drop it,” Mark said, trying to defuse the situation before you blew it up into an argument. “I would rather go rest in my hotel room rather than bear witness to a homicide.”

“Fine, fine,” Johnny relented.

You scoffed and jabbed at his foot with yours before letting the topic go. Your squabbles with them were all in good nature, but this one somehow put you off. It was like Johnny had planted the seeds and were waiting for them to grow. You were starting to mull over every interaction you’ve had with Jeong Jaehyun.

Johnny and Chenle had made a startlingly accurate observation. You and Jaehyun did look at each other for a little too long sometimes, nearly to the point where it seemed like you were basking in the attention of the other—

No fucking way.

You were not going down that path. There was nothing more to your relationship with Jeong Jaehyun than pure hatred and resentment. He was a douchebag who was intent on making you feel like shit. His only motive was to start shit again between you and Jaemin, who you would’ve completely forgotten by now if it weren’t for him.

No way. There was absolutely no undercurrent of desire that was creeping its way to be uncovered.

Or was there? a small, treacherous part of your mind offered.

You were lost in your thoughts as the coaches handed you your room key, as you waited for your roommate who was some girl named Eunha from the other school, as you made your way to your room on the fifth floor.

The only thing you could think about were those long stares, those mesmerizing eyes, and the implication behind them. You always attributed it to Jaehyun being a hormonal teenage boy, but you had to admit that you’ve seen him look at you with some semblance of lust. Perhaps that same feeling was buried far in the depths of your consciousness, too.

Could you possibly be attracted to the devil incarnate, Jeong Jaehyun?

No, you argued with yourself, and shit, even your frontal lobe sounded pretty unconvinced. He’s a petty bastard and that’s all he’ll ever be.

You instilled the mantra of you and Jaehyun being sworn enemies in your head, but you couldn’t help the fact that it was peppered by the memories of an irritatingly familiar smirk. You scowled, willing your head to get rid of all-things-Jeong-Jaehyun, but he was right there.

Literally.

He was standing right in front of you.

“Hey, neighbor,” he teased, all too satisfied with the horrified look on your face. “Guess you can’t get rid of me.”

You were falling when you jolted awake.

A groan tore its way past your lips. You made sure you didn’t disrupt Eunha’s sleep before you recounted your dream. It had been a while since you’ve had one, and realization was morphing into shame when you realized what kind of dream it was. You’ve never had a wet dream before but what made you want to astral project yourself into oblivion was when you realized that Jaehyun caused it.

After tossing and turning for a couple of minutes in a desperate attempt for sleep to overcome you once more, you came to terms with the fact that you were staying awake for now. Staying awake was worse, though, because there was no way you could keep the intruding thoughts at bay. Not with the way Jeong Jaehyun kept flashing behind your eyelids, at least.

You considered how to spend the rest of your night, surveying your options as you stared up at the ceiling:

Watch season three of Riverdale on Netflix so you could make fun of it.

Attempt to sleep, but with little success because there was no way you were going back to bed after that dream.

Count the slacks of the window’s blinds even though it would be pointless because what the fuck were you going to do with that information?

It was truly astounding how interesting your life was.

You couldn’t think clearly with Eunha’s soft snoring, so you grabbed your keys and pushed the door open carefully to keep it from squealing. After your delicate movements to escape your room quietly, you leaned against the wall and let out a sigh of relief. You weren’t too keen on someone scolding you in the middle of the night for being outside, but you needed to clear your head somewhere. You packed for weather that was balmy, but the air conditioner carried a bite to it that made you wish you hadn’t just worn shorts and a tank top to bed.

You could practically hear Mark mocking you if he were here: Are you in the right headspace, Y/N?

You shook your head, getting your provoking best friend out of there, but instead, you found yourself wandering into dangerous territory again.

Johnny and Chenle were parroting the same words over and over again in your head. You wished you could use your metaphysical hands in your head and squeeze the life out of them, but they always flew out of your grasp. You clicked your tongue absentmindedly, your annoyance rehashing itself as your mind gravitated back to Jeong Jaehyun with his stupid smirk and annoyingly persistent cockiness. It was almost pitiful that you hated his guts and yet you couldn’t deny the magnetism he carried, the pull that made your breath hitch when he met your eyes.

His presence was announced by the change in the air more than anything else. You didn’t have to see him to know he was there. You clenched your jaw; you couldn’t catch a break from him even during the ungodly hours of the night.

He was unavoidable.

He hummed with amusement. “Look who’s here.”

“What are you doing up this late? Go to bed.”

You didn’t even bother to look at him because there was one thing you were sure of and it was that you could not look at his sickeningly attractive face right now. Jaehyun didn’t move, blatantly ignoring your order. The tension was so thick that you wanted to storm away, but you knew he would follow you just to piss you off.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “You should be the one resting up. You cheerleaders always train until you’re near death.”

“Can’t sleep,” was your curt response.

He laughed once, a short sound that was pretty much gone the moment it hit your eardrums. “What? You get nightmares or something?”

“So what if I do?” you retaliated, getting oddly defensive. It was a given that you’d lie about getting a nightmare over a wet dream. “It’s none of your business.”

He laughed again but this time it was lower, more dangerous. “It’s my business when it concerns you.”

“I have and will never be your business, Jeong Jaehyun.”

He leaned against the wall. “I beg to differ.”

“Then keep begging.”

“If you say so.”

“Jaehyun,” you interrupted your own banter. “What’s the point of this conversation? Just go back to your room so we can go back to not talking to each other.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“That’s unfortunate,” you said. “I don’t want to talk to you, so go find someone who does.”

“We don’t have to talk.” Suddenly, his voice sounded closer, and you forced your gaze down at the strangely-patterned hotel carpet.

You swallowed thickly. “I’m here to clear my head. I don’t want you to hover around me for the rest of the night.”

“Actually, I had something else in mind.”

He closed in on you, one of his hands skimming up the soft skin of your arm. A shudder ran down your spine as you felt his fingers travel up to your shoulder, your collarbone, and then the side of your neck. With a swift movement, he caged you in his arms, biceps flexing as he did.

What was going on? You couldn’t quite keep up with the situation but the way Jaehyun was looking down at you made you feel hot. It was exactly like your dream—

“Holy fuck, Jaehyun.”

You couldn’t stop the words from escaping your lips when you felt his hot breath on your neck. Your head went fuzzy and you were pretty sure your knees were ready to buckle under you. The corner of Jaehyun’s lip lifted into a smirk as if he had been planning this. You mustered a scowl at him but one thing was clear: you screwed yourself over by getting into this situation.

Damn it. You knew you should’ve watched season three of Riverdale instead

Also, Chenle and Johnny were right. Not that you’d ever tell them that; put simply, you were a sore loser.

Lust was swimming in Jaehyun’s eyes. The way he caged you felt predatory, a show of dominance rather than passion. That smirk of his carved in deeper, and it only pissed you off. Yet, as much as it pissed you off, all you wanted him to do was just ruin you.

Your pride was too strong, though, and you concluded that you would rather stick a fork in your eye than let Jaehyun do what he wanted. This sparked a dilemma in your head: to fuck or not to fuck Jaehyun, that was the question. One sounded like a pretty uneventful night, while the other sounded appealing save for the self-loathing you’d experience afterward.

“You want me, Y/N,” he cooed. “I know you do.”

“I hate you.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“I mean it, Jaehyun,” you hissed. Your head was screaming at you to just go with it, but denying Jaehyun’s advances and provokes was just natural instinct to you. “I don’t want you. Stop lying to yourself.”

“Is that so? I think you’re the liar here,” he replied easily as you dodged his attempt to kiss you.

You pushed at his muscular arm but he didn’t budge. For a moment, you strongly considered just dropping to the ground and crawling out from under his legs, but you were done for. Seconds later, Jaehyun’s hand flew up, long fingers digging into the soft flesh of your face as he forced your chin upward to look at him directly. The lust in his eyes was so clear, so alluring, and it made you stop struggling for a second.

“I’m not going to ask you again. Let go of me.”

“Good, it’s a waste of breath.”

“Has anyone ever told you how infuriating you are?”

“You did. Many times.”

“Just fuck off already.”

Your words were like poison, but for some odd reason, Jaehyun was immune to it. Any reasonable person would at least flinch, but Jaehyun was so fixated on his one goal. Again, he didn’t budge. He gazed into your eyes with a fierce intensity that threw you off.

“Just let me fucking kiss you, Y/N.”

His smirk was gone. He wasn’t teasing you anymore. Jaehyun’s eyes darkened with his command.

He leaned in and you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips, drinking in your appearance. You were pulled into his trap and you hated yourself for it. You swallowed hard as all of your worries about being with Jaehyun and getting caught had started to fade away. All you could do was yield to him.

“Fine,” you whispered.

“Good girl,” was all he got out before basically smashing your lips together.

It was rushed, messy, and way too rough. Jaehyun grabbed the back of your neck, his other arm still locking you in place. Your hands moved from gripping at the front of his shirt to slowly wrapping around his neck. You weren’t sure how you felt, but there was something that made you want to tangle your fingers in his hair and get lost in him.

The moment Jaehyun’s tongue slid along the crease of your lips, you were conflicted. You weren’t exactly sure what to do so he took the reins. You wondered if he was expressing his pent-up hatred as well. It was clear in the way he was taking prying your mouth open with his tongue, snaking his hot muscle to dance with yours as if he had something to prove. He wanted you to see that he was the dominant one, that he had leverage over the situation.

But when he broke away, he flipped the switch. The both of you were left catching your breath, Jaehyun resting his forehead against yours in a feeling that had a weird sort of intimacy stemming from it. His hand dropped from your neck to brush messy locks of hair behind your shoulders.

Well, that explained why humans were so tempted by the devil.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jaehyun grinned down at you.

You fought down the shyness that was creeping into your chest. Before you could respond, the both of you turned your heads at the sound of footsteps. A flashlight glimpsed by you when you saw two dark figures at the end of the hall. It didn’t sound like your coach, but you weren’t too keen on sticking around to figure out who it was.

“Son, how in the world did you get locked out of your room this late?” one of them asked.

“I’m telling you, I needed to use the bathroom so I went outside without my key, and then I remembered the bathroom was in the room.”

That voice was most definitely Mark.

“Hey!” the security guard scolded when he saw you two. “What are you kids doing? It’s late!”

“You’re on your own.” You pushed Jaehyun away from you and fumbled for your keys before Mark or the security guard could spot you. “Bye.”

You jammed your key in, not worried about waking up your roommate anymore. All you could hear was Jaehyun growling out a short string of curses before you shut the door behind him and leaned against it. Your head was still reeling in what had just happened, but that kiss had left you in the clouds. You could feel the ghost of his lips on yours. Dazed, you just fell onto your bed, into the entrancing clutches of sleep.

You were exhausted when you woke up, and you blamed Jaehyun for it.

You weren’t in the proper condition for training; you hadn’t gotten enough sleep and your head was a mess (well, you supposed you were the only one to blame for the latter). You forgot to set your alarm so you woke up to Eunha shaking you gently, coaxing you into stirring. She was already dressed, tying her hair up in a ponytail. You all but jumped out of bed when you saw her, thinking you were late.

“What time is it?” you asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you stood up and tried to adjust to the morning light.

“You’ve still got plenty of time,” she assured you. “I just like to get ready early so I can go for a quick run.”

“Ah, okay. Have fun,” you mumbled before she left the room, leaving you to drag yourself around the room to get ready. You heard a knock at the door and went to open it, assuming it was Eunha forgetting her keys. Your eyes narrowed when you saw who it was. “Jaehyun?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” His voice was somewhere between a pant and a rasp as if he had been working out, which he probably was judging by the sheen of sweat on his biceps.

“Were you waiting for Eunha to leave?” you asked. “You’re disgusting. Why would you think about me?”

“I was thinking about how much of a bitch you are for running away and letting me get in trouble like that.”

“Pity.” You mocked a pout for him. “Now move. I have to get ready.”

“Let me in.”

You made a face at the thought. You knew where he was going with this and you needed to stop it. “No. You’re disgusting.”

“You liked it last night.”

His eyes searched yours in the dim light, looking for something that unfortunately was there: longing. You were never the greatest at hiding your emotions, which was why you couldn’t lie to yourself and refuse Jaehyun. Screw your transparency. Jaehyun grinned at your silence and took a step in your room when you opened your door wider for him.

You closed the door. “I hated every second of it,” you said in a childish attempt to get on his nerves.

You were a terrible liar.

Your back was against the door in a second. You could only let out a soft gasp before he kissed you, hands on your waist, slowing his movements unlike the hurriedness from last night. It was foreign, the way he kissed you like you were the only girl he saw. You pulled away quickly but it just left the both of you staring at each other’s lips.

“You sure about that?” His lips curled into a smirk.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you warned in a low voice, “I still hate your guts.”

“As I’m reminded of every single time I see you,” he returned coolly.

“Fuck off.”

This time, you pulled him down to kiss him again. You fisted your hand into his hair, tugging at his dark locks as your lips moved smoothly against his. Caught off guard, Jaehyun groaned, low and deep against your lips.

The two of you separated again before Jaehyun said, “See? I know you want me. Only I can make you feel this good, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “We’ll see about that.”

Jaehyun’s eyes darkened at the challenge. To prove his point, he pushed his knee up and between your legs, pressing against your clothed cunt. A gasp escaped your lips, the fingers curled in his hair instinctively tightening. You bit your lip but to no avail; a whimper escaped your lips as soon as he started pulsing his knee against you. You grabbed onto his shoulders for leverage, burying your face into his chest while bunching up the thin fabric of his shirt.

You wanted to hold back your moans because you were adamant about not giving Jeong Jaehyun the satisfaction of hearing you moan. Instead, you shifted your hips so that the pressure of his knee became more intense. Sparks flew behind your eyelids as he bounced his knee under you.

He finally released the tight grip he had on your waist in favor of palming one of your breasts, squeezing it firmly through your shirt and bra. All the while, he continued ramming his knee against the apex of your legs. He kept his eyes on yours and you scowled at the thought of him getting off on seeing you crumble in front of him. But you couldn’t stop yourself. He wanted to completely and utterly ruin you, wanted to fuck you in and shut you up.

The worst part was that you wanted to let him.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this,” he mused, slowly rubbing his knee in circles against you. “God, you’re still wearing that fucking tank top.”

“You’re such a—ah!”

He groped your chest again, thumb pressing down on your nipple. Another whimper escaped you as Jaehyun grazed his lips down your neck, nipping at the supple skin. You only got louder as the kisses turned into bites.

He ignored you and removed his hand. Instead, he tugged the neckline of your tank top down, delighted at the loose straps sliding down your shoulders. He yanked it down to your waist so you were exposed to him, and you swore you heard his breath hitch. Jaehyun pinched your nipple with two fingers, drawing out a moan that drove him crazy. He buried his face into your neck, sucking and making you quiver under him.

“Didn’t you say I had small tits earlier?” you jeered, a teasing lilt to your tone.

“Yeah, I still stand by that,” he replied, resulting in you punching his shoulder.

“Asshole.”

“Hey, I never said it wasn’t cute.”

“You’re such a softie,” you grumbled, but your voice was gentler than before. It was almost like you were warming up to Jeong Jaehyun, and you hated the mere thought of that.

Jaehyun pulled away from your neck. “Y/N, I want you to suck me off,” he demanded.

“I refuse.”

“Be a good girl and do it for me.”

You swore you’d go crazy if he called you ‘good girl’ one more time. You were pretty revolted at the thought of sucking his dick, but the way he looked so fragile under your hold made you want to do it for the power rush. It was like some cheap porno in a way; ‘College Jock Gets Sucked Off By Cheerleader.’ You bet half the members on the team beat their meat to something similar to that.

Your shoulders sagged. “Fine. Get on the bed.”

Jaehyun groaned at your approval. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said, letting go of you to pull down his sweats on his way to your bed. He sat at the edge of it, tugging the elastic of his boxers down. You swallowed hard, tugging your tank top back up as you stared at his painfully hard erection springing out.

You got on your knees in front of him, lips parted in anticipation of taking in his length. Your hair fell over your face, which Jaehyun took notice of and held it back in a fist. Taking a deep breath, you wrapped your hand around his cock. It was rock solid to the touch and twitched at your grip. Glancing up at an eager Jaehyun, you pumped the length of it once, inciting a groan from him.

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, rousing a strangled noise from his throat. He looked down at you through half-lidded eyes, messy strands of your hair tangling in his fingers while his other hand was gripping the stiff hotel sheets. Then, you took him in fully at his encouragement (which was more of him just grabbing the back of your head and pushing it down on his cock).

“Shit,” he breathed out before slowly moving his hips in and out of your mouth. It was like iron wrapped around velvet, and he was relishing how hot your mouth felt.

He pushed your head down further and right as you gagged on his length, there was a knock at the door.

“Y/N!” Mark’s voice sounded from the other side. “Are you coming for breakfast?”

You pulled off of him with a pop, a string of saliva dripping off your lips. Your eyes were wide as you lunged for your phone, checking the texts. Meanwhile, Jaehyun just frowned down at you, looking up at the ceiling with a frustrated sigh.

“Holy fuck,” you muttered when you looked at the time. You called out to Mark, “Give me a minute!”

“Perfect,” Jaehyun said in a low voice and held the back of your head, attempting to push you down on him. “We can finish up now.”

“Are you an idiot?” you hissed, swatting at his hand. “I have to get out of here before Mark finds out you’re in here.”

Ignoring your state of panic, Jaehyun said, “You look so hot with drool on your chin.”

That was the most disgusting thing you had ever heard, and if it weren’t for Mark being on the other side of the door where you and Jaehyun were screwing around, you would have beat the living daylights out of him. Only a creep like Jeong Jaehyun could find something like drool sexy. You scowled at him and wiped it off with the back of your hand.

“Put your dick away,” you scolded. “Hide in the closet and you can leave when I’m gone.”

He rolled his eyes at you and stood up, making his way to the bathroom. “I need to get rid of the problem you caused.”

You had no time to complain about him jerking off in your bathroom. Mark was not a very patient man, so as soon as Jaehyun closed the door behind him, you stripped off your pajamas and threw on whatever was at the top of your suitcase. You brushed your teeth at the speed of light, using your other hand to brush down your hair. After you laced up your shoes, you opened the door to Mark looking at you suspiciously.

“You’re never late,” he pointed out.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” you said. In your defense, it wasn’t a complete lie.

“Oh, by the way,” Mark started, “can I use your bathroom real quick?”

“No!” you exclaimed, pushing him away from your room and in the direction of the elevator. “My roommate, um, is… on her period—yeah, you don’t want to see that mess.”

Another reason why you hated Jeong Jaehyun was for giving you reasons to lie when you were a terrible liar.

Training was long and grueling. Your bones were mush and your muscles ached, pins and needles shooting through you every time you moved. As your teammates dragged you to get dinner with them, you couldn’t even resist because you were so drained.

The one thing you loved about training was that you could wear whatever you wanted, whereas you were confined to tight skirts and crop tops at your university. Now, you could rest in whatever position you wanted without worrying about exposing anything, so you didn’t hesitate to manspread as soon as you got to the cafeteria table.

“Did you guys hear about Jaehyun from the other school?” one of the girls gossiped. “Looks like he was fooling around with someone last night.”

You were grounded back into reality from whatever dimension you were floating about in. Your teammates were perplexed as you choked on air, hitting your chest to stop yourself from coughing. You were handed a glass of water, which you gingerly accepted and drank until your body had calmed down.

“Ah, sorry, Y/N,” your teammate apologized. “I forgot you and Jaehyun have bad blood between you.”

“You’re good,” you told her, waving it off. “I was surprised for a second, but I guess it makes sense for a guy like him to go around hooking up.” Then, silence fell. You were confused as they all looked at you with a puzzled look. “What? Am I stereotyping too harshly? My bad.”

“No, it’s not that,” another chimed in. “A lot of girls go around hitting on him, but Jaehyun never lays a hand on them. I thought it was common knowledge that he doesn’t do that sort of stuff, but I guess it makes sense that you don’t care about the details.”

That was news to you.

“Yeah,” you replied distantly. “I don’t care.”

So Jaehyun doesn’t hook up, was what you happened to hear around the grapevine, and he most definitely doesn’t hook up with his enemies.

You stood up in the middle of your dinner. “I gotta go,” you said. “I’ll see you girls tomorrow.”

You actually weren’t very sure where Jaehyun was, but you figured if you walked around enough, you’d run into him or someone from his team. You headed out of the canteen and walked to the basketball courts, expecting to see him dribbling a bar or doing reps. But the first person you saw was Na Jaemin, and he noticed you immediately, eyes sparkling with recognition.

“Y/N!” he greeted cheerfully. “It’s been so long.”

That infectious smile of his was plastered across his face, making a small one creep to your lips. If Jaehyun smiled like that more, then you could understand his charm, but he was always so moody around you. He either did something to get on your nerves or he would just flat-out ignore you. Furthermore, he always riled you up instead of offering you that warm security that Jaemin emanated—

Wait, why were you comparing him to Jaehyun?

“Sorry,” you apologized meekly. “Am I interrupting your practice time?”

“No, it’s cool. We were just messing around in here,” Jaemin replied. “Are you looking for someone?”

You looked into Jaemin’s eyes and your thoughts slowed. He made you feel safe, warm, but that was all; there was no fire, no rage, no heat. It was just a shallow attraction that fizzled out, leaving you neither satisfied nor dissatisfied. And you clawed at your brain as you wondered what you were getting at, but you knew. You knew it was all going back to Jaehyun.

And it pissed you off.

“I was looking for Jaehyun,” you said, “if he happened to be in here.”

“He told me he was going for a swim,” Jaemin said, and that was all you needed.

Before Jaemin could respond, you thanked him and turned on your heel. The pool was in a separate building, and there was no training that even required swimming, so it made no sense for Jaehyun to be there. You let out a frustrated sigh. Even when he wasn’t doing anything in particular to annoy you, it still managed to anger you.

You weren’t going to let Jaehyun do what he wanted this time. This was merely for interrogation—your own personal gain. Then, you thought it over some more, and you reasonably concluded that there was a 97.5% chance that you would not lay a finger on him, but there was a 2.5% chance you’d cave.

When you got to the facility where the pool was, you were entranced by the renovation at first. The pool was massive and the equipment was lined up so neatly along the walls. You peered through the glass to see the pool completely empty save for Jaehyun in the hot tub.

He met your eyes while you opened the door to the pool. His eyebrow arched at your entrance but a smirk settled on his lips as you neared him. You tried to push down your lust; you were not letting him get to you again. You crouched down by the side of the pool and Jaehyun moved so he was facing you, holding onto the edge of the hot tub.

“What brings you here?’ he asked, playfully flicking some water in your direction.

You flinched and scrunched up your nose at his action. “I heard you don’t do hookups.”

“You heard correctly.”

“So what am I?”

“You’re Y/N.”

You were a coward. Admittedly, you had probably always been running away from your own problems, deflecting your feelings with unbridled hate that had no direction, no meaning. Underneath your blunt and fiery front was pure cowardice. Even now, you refused to admit anything to yourself.

You didn’t want to accept that maybe you actually liked Jeong Jaehyun.

Maybe you’ve always liked him.

“Don’t be stupid, Jaehyun,” you grumbled. “You’ve always hated me.”

“I think you just want to believe I hate you. Is that how you suppress your feelings?”

“How long have you liked me for, then? Days?”

“Years.”

You paused for a moment as you recounted your interactions with Jaehyun. It was true that he never explicitly said he hated you and that you always started the arguments, but he was the one who broke off your friendship. Why would he do that if he didn’t hate you?

“You said you wanted nothing to do with me, Jaehyun,” you said in a smaller voice, fist balling at your side.

“You were going to a different university.” He ran a hand through his damp hair, and although you were angry, it was difficult not to enjoy the view. “Plus, you just kept going on and on about Jaemin, and I couldn’t even shut that mouth of yours up back then.”

“So you cut me off?”

“I felt like I was being petty, so I tried to apologize but you blocked my number and wouldn’t let me come near you,” Jaehyun deadpanned. He reached forward and grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer to him. You teetered on the balls of your feet, swallowing hard. “Forgive me?”

“No.”

Jaehyun rose up a little so he was eye-to-eye with you. He smiled at your flustered expression and cupped your cheek with his wet hand. Every muscle in your body was telling you to pull away but you couldn’t. Not when his lips were so close, when his eyes were boring into yours.

“Forgive me,” he repeated in a gentler tone, but it became more of an order than a question.

“Make me,” you whispered and Jaehyun groaned, somewhat helplessly.

“You’re going to be the death of me, I swear.”

You opened your mouth to say something more, but you couldn’t even form your words as Jaehyun yanked you forward and sealed your lips with a kiss. Before, you had the sense to try and push him away, but now you were held captive. He slid his tongue past your lips and you let out an appreciative whimper, hand sliding into his wet hair. You tugged at his hair and this time, Jaehyun was the one to react.

He pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, eyes clouding over with lust. “Get in with me,” he said, voice rumbling. You shivered as he dragged his lips down to your jaw; you could feel his voice reverberate down your spine and to your feet.

“What if someone walks in?” you asked in a daze.

“There’s no use for the swim facility, so no one’s going to walk in on us,” he persuaded. “Come in.”

Water dripped from his neck, landing on your thigh. You took in a sharp breath as his hand tugged at your waist. While the pleading look on his face was priceless, you couldn’t even ridicule him because you were at your limit, too. You let out an irritated sigh when you realized you gave into that 2.5% of you caving.

You responded by pulling off your shirt, tossing it to the side where Jaehyun had left his shoes and towel. Jaehyun watched you as you fiddled with the clamp of your bra. Meanwhile, his hands went to the waistband of your sweats, making you shudder as he tugged them down at the sides. You raised your hips to help him get them off and, after removing your bra, you were only left in your underwear to protect you from his hungry gaze.

You weren’t the type to hook up with guys. Hell, you weren’t the type to even show a guy your ankle if he asked. You thought you’d feel insecure with Jaehyun eyeing you in your full glory, but there was none of that. You wanted to know why it was so different with him but maybe it was the way he looked at you like he just wanted to kiss you. Or maybe a tiny part of your heart always belonged to Jaehyun, and you couldn’t bury it anymore.

“You’re so gorgeous.”

He mumbled the words, barely audible, but they set you on fire. He pulled you down onto his lap like you were his anchor, and you were afraid you’d get swept with the current, but you let him. You’ve only ever kissed a few guys before, so you really had no idea what the fuck you were getting into. All you were sure about was that Jaehyun could make you feel good and you were having your first time in a hot tub. You only prayed that you wouldn’t pass out from the pleasure combined with the heat of the water.

“Is this your first time?” he asked, gliding his hands down your sides. You nodded. “Then I’ll be gentle.” Truly, you did find his gesture rather sweet, but it didn’t stop you from rolling your eyes. Jaheyun saw and narrowed his brows. “I don’t hate you, but you really piss me off sometimes.”

He kissed you again. It was more passionate this time, but also harsher and messier. You let out a sound that was something between a yelp and a moan, making Jaehyun move his hands to run down your bare back. Then, he planted his thumb on your clit and pressed down in a way that made a muscle in your thigh twitch. Your grip on his shoulders tightened; you weren’t expecting that. It felt different in the water, but somehow, you couldn’t get enough of it.

“You’re wet,” he mumbled against your lips as his fingers found purchase on your slit.

“We’re in the water, you idiot.”

Jaehyun scoffed. “You know what, Y/N, you’re right, I did hate you,” he spat, rubbing small circles around your clit now. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to steady yourself, whimpering as his movements grew more intense. “I fucking hated how you looked at Jaemin with those love-struck eyes.”

There was a shift in his usual cocky expression. He turned focused and, to a degree, angry. It was the kind of look on his face you saw when he was on the basketball court or during a game.

“You’re the one who told me to go after him.”

Wrong choice of words. Jaehyun lifted you up and placed you on the edge of the pool, pushing a finger inside you with no warning. You gasped, your mouth open to ask him why he took you out of the water, but you already knew the answer; he wanted to feel you completely.

“R-right there,” you whimpered out as he pushed his finger deeper inside of you.

He started to curl his finger whenever he passed over your g-spot, and you had to close your eyes. Jaehyun pulled his finger out to marvel at the slick wetness that coated it. Your body tingled as he slid his finger inside you again. This time, he was teasing your slit with a second digit. Jaehyun had no delicacy, though, and he all but shoved in a second finger, causing you to cry out.

He didn’t even care. You opened your mouth to call him a bastard, but all that came out was a pitched moan that seemed to float up to the stars.

“I fucking hated,” he rasped as he pumped two fingers inside of you, “how you treated Jaemin like he was the only one in the world.”

“I don’t… like Jaemin,” you got out, each labored breath of yours fighting off another moan. “I’ve stopped liking Jaemin after high school.”

Jaehyun’s free hand went to your chest, cupping one of your breasts as he rubbed circles around your nipple. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, unable to contain yourself as the fingers on your clit got almost frantic in their place, and the fingers inside of you were pushing against your walls. You felt an unfamiliar cold fire that felt so fucking good, lighting you up and threatening to spill over. Your muscles clenched and spasmed around Jaehyun, and you weren’t even in the hot tub but you felt like you were sinking.

A high-pitched moan left your lips, leaving you hot with embarrassment because you didn’t know you could make a sound like that. You fell from your peak, relaxing in Jaehyun’s hold; it felt like you were floating amongst the clouds in an almost euphoric way.

“I don’t like Jaemin,” you breathed out, still winded from your orgasm, “you fucking idiot.”

“I know.” Jaehyun pulled his fingers out of you, eyes trained on you as he licked them slowly. The look on his face was more gentle now. With his free hand, he brushed loose strands of your hair out of your face. “You like me now.”

“No, I’ve loved you for a while now.” You didn’t know what possessed you to say what was on your mind, but it surprised you more than it surprised Jaehyun. “I didn’t realize it then but… I think I did.”

Love? Love?

You thought you knew what love was. Something that you felt in your bones, that burst within you instantly. Simple glances, thoughts, and daydreams—something gentle and fluffy, but also emotionally shattering. You thought it was tender smiles, kind words, and little gestures.

But maybe that was the kind of love that led to puffy eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and hoarse voices. The kind of love that was left fruitless with an empty gap in your chest.

Maybe this was different.

It was instinctive, the way you fell for him. Like an effortless intake of breath, you were in love before you even knew it. You always thought love was a monster. Ravaging, scraping, foul monsters with jaws so immeasurably large that they would have swallowed you whole. But maybe it wasn’t the tragedy you made it out to be.

With Jaehyun it was fierce and maddening and made you want to rip your hair out. It was a violent hurricane that you tried to brave your way through. But you were blind. You were already at the eye; you had always been at the center without realizing it. And, despite all the pointless arguments and name-calling, it was the most beautiful thing you had experienced.

Yeah, you liked him. You liked how you were around him, despite how much you complained about it to Mark. Part of you refused to admit it, but sometimes the bickering was fun. You realized that you never let go of Jaehyun before because you couldn’t. You simply didn’t want to be without him because Jeong Jaehyun drove a deeper passion within you.

Your rose-tinted loving moment was ruined as soon as a shit-eating grin spread across Jaehyun’s face.

“You love me.”

“I’ll kill you.”

“You love me,” Jaehyun echoed as if he was internalizing the information. “You love me.”

“I take it back,” you said flatly. “I hate you, I hate you, and I’ve always hated you.”

Jaehyun ignored your words, his cockiness morphing into adoration. “You actually love me back.” He cupped your face in his hands, eyes turning into little crescents as he smiled. “Even though I called you a cougar for liking a guy a year younger than you?”

“Yes.”

“Even though I made fun of you wearing a push-up bra in front of him?”

You clenched your jaw. “Yes.”

“Even though I asked Johnny about you and he told me that I still live in your mind, rent-free?”

“What? Johnny said that?” you exclaimed, eyes wide. You grimaced. Johnny would be dealt with later. You placed your hands on Jaehyun’s shoulders and made direct eye contact. “Look, Jaehyun—as much as it hurts me to say this and I’d rather tear out my vocal cords—I like you. I like you so much that I don’t care about the petty shit you pulled when I liked Jaemin because frankly, I don’t care about Jaemin anymore.”

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You wanted to slap him.

“Are you just constantly horny?” you snapped. “I’m pouring out my feelings to you here!”

“I’m better at expressing my love through actions, not words,” Jaehyun explained. “Can I show you?”

“Is this another ploy to get in my pants?”

“No, I’m asking you out on a date,” he said. “Sneak out with me tonight. I want to explore the city with you.”

The offer was tempting. In fact, you found no reason to be opposed to the idea. After all, you were always down for an adventure in the city. Jaehyun being with you didn’t sound too bad either, especially when Seoul was so lively at night. Part of you wanted it purely to catch up on all the time you missed when you stopped being friends.

“Fine,” you agreed. “An hour after curfew.”

“Great.” Jaehyun flashed a grin that slowly curled into a smirk. “Now let me get in your pants.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Y/N, you see,” Jaehyun started, “I don’t hate you, but you’ve really pissed me off these past two years. We have all of this pent-up rage, so it’s only fair that we let it out on each other.” His grip on your hips tightened.

You loathed yourself for wanting him, and for putting aside the fear of being walked in on for him. You internally cringed at the thought of Mark accidentally bearing witness, and you weren’t sure you were willing to explain the situation to him just yet.

It was the price you paid for carnality, you supposed.

You sighed in a forced way so that you sounded reluctant and bored. Unfortunately, your plan backfired and you ended up feeling bad when a concerned look crossed Jaehyun’s face.

“If you’re worried about getting caught, I’ll just cover you,” Jaehyun mumbled, the softness of his voice almost putting you at ease.

You rolled your eyes. “How kind of you.” You paused and looked up at him. “Are we really going to have sex for the first time here?”

Jaehyun looked around him. “Well, I guess we could go to the hotel room if—”

“Nope!” you interrupted, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer to you. “Let’s do it here. I love the pool, love having sex at the pool.”

He rose a brow at you, hands making their way down your body. Suddenly, your realization of being completely exposed had heightened, and you pressed your thighs together. Maybe it was because your vulnerability showed on your face, clear as day, but Jaehyun smirked, further flustering you by tugging down his swim shorts to reveal his hardened cock.

It was heavy and warm against your thigh, but what you were fixed on was the v-line on his pelvis. You traced along the bone, making him shiver under your touch. You were shocked when he grabbed your wrist tightly, holding it away from him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here,” he growled. Jaehyun leaned closer and nipped at the shell of your earlobe, chuckling as you tensed up under his hold. His hot breath made you squirm under his grip.

Have you ever noticed how insanely attractive he was? Yes, of course. You weren’t an idiot.

Have you ever appreciated his beauty until now? Probably not.

“Just fuck me already, Jae,” you grumbled out as he pushed you down onto the deck of the pool.

In seconds, Jaehyun grabbed your hips and pulled them to his waist. Without any preamble, he rammed himself inside of you. The motion caught you by surprise and you cried out, half out of pleasure and half out of pain. You were definitely wet from being fingered earlier, but two fingers were nothing compared to Jaehyun’s cock.

Seeing his cock disappear in you was enough to make you whimper. Your walls clenched around him, pulsating at the foreign feeling. You were tempted to slap him upside the head for going so fast, but all you could do was tug at his hair and wrap your legs around him.

“You bastard, I’ll fucking—oh.”

Jaehyun laughed cruelly at your reaction, partly to cover up the groan caught in his throat and partly because your attempts at being mad at him were downright pathetic. When you had adjusted to his size, Jaehyun grunted and pounded in you, hitting spots that made your limbs feel like jelly. As if that wasn’t enough, Jaehyun found your clit with the hand that didn’t have a bruising grip on your waist and pressed harshly against it.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Jaehyun gritted out.

“T-then be gentle,” you bargained, drowning in a molten sea.

Jaehyun narrowed his eyes at you. “Have you ever fucking heard of gentle hate sex?” he asked, validating his point with a particularly hard thrust.

Your fingernails dug into his back, leaving hot-white trails down his skin. You were certain you had drawn blood, but knowing Jaehyun, he’d probably feel proud if he saw it. He brought his lips to your neck as you writhed under him, biting around until he found your sweet spot. This wasn’t fair; he was pleasuring you in every way possible and all you could do was cry out as he pummeled in you.

You closed your eyes, sparks flying behind your eyelids as you felt your release rushing to you.

Then, he slowed his strokes down considerably.

“Look at me,” he ordered in a rasp. Your eyes fluttered open, remaining half-lidded as you felt like you were going to spill over. “Look at me when I’m fucking you.”

He slapped his hips against yours again, the sound of skin against skin making you shudder. Jaehyun filled you up to the brim and you were oh-so-close to letting go and falling off the edge. The hardscape was cool but you were on fire, bliss overtaking all of your senses. Your toes curled as you held onto his damp skin for dear life, not sure if it was because he was in the pool or he was sweating due to the heat you both emanated.

“R-right there!” you wailed. “Fuck, right there!”

Jaehyun angled his hips slightly to pound into you, causing you to see metaphysical stars. It was so hard to keep eye contact with him when your eyes just wanted to roll back. Jaehyun let out a groan by your ear, low and guttural. You didn’t even notice how tight the grip he has on you until he releases your hip for you to see the print he left.

You could tell he was close, but he wanted to hold on for you. Both of your breaths were labored as you stared into each other’s eyes, your body moving up and down against the hardscape as Jaehyun railed you. You tightened your grip on him, a pathetic moan falling from your lips as you were falling over the edge.

Jaehyun understood and fucked you through your orgasm, making sure you made the most of it. Warmth blossomed under your skin as you cried out in pure bliss, your vision blurring and refocusing as it flickered from normal to pure white as you rode out your high. You ground yourself back to reality after nearly sobbing out his name, the pleasure overwhelming you. Jaehyun’s eyes went hazy as he fell apart right after you did, and soon, you felt something warm spill inside of you.

Jaehyun finished inside of you and stuttered out a curse as he pulled out of you. He rolled over and laid on the deck of the pool next to you, the both of you catching your breath like you had just run a marathon.

“I have a cute date idea for tonight,” Jaehyun said after a long pause.

You looked over, watching his chest rise and fall. “Yeah?”

“We go to the store and buy Plan B.”

You couldn’t even disagree.

“Sounds good.”

Jaehyun dragged himself off the floor, muttering something along the lines of “shit, that felt good” to himself as he reached for his swim trunks to pull back on. You grabbed a towel to dry yourself off, but pins and needles shot up your legs when you tried to walk. Jaehyun noticed immediately and a smug look settled on his face again, not the least bit remorseful.

You scowled as you slipped your clothes back on. “Shut up,” you jeered. “You’re so shameless for someone who can’t pull out.”

“Oops,” he replied flatly.

“I hate you, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun ran a hand through his damp hair, letting out a laugh as he shook his head. He picked up another towel from the chairs by the poolside and wrapped it around so it covered your head. You bit your lip as you watched him attempt to dry your hair. It was times like these when he seemed so gentle and delicate, unlike his usual irritating attitude.

“You liked it, though,” Jaehyun said. “Right?”

You faltered, looking down at your feet as he continued to dry your hair. “Yeah.”

Jaehyun smiled softly and leaned in swiftly to peck your lips, but your moment was interrupted by the sound of a door opening.

Mark was gaping at you two, eyelids fluttering rapidly as if he was trying to blink away what he had just seen.

“Y/N? Jeong Jaehyun?” Mark questioned, his voice an octave higher than usual. Realization crossed his face through a series of facial expressions that morphed far too quickly for you to process. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Mark!” You and Jaehyun pulled away from each other quickly.

Mark paused to think his words through. “Did I almost walk in on a murder?”

You let out a frustrated groan. “Jesus, Mark, if you’re not going to read the room, at least SparkNote it.”

“Wait, so you were kissing?”

“No, we didn’t kiss,” Jaehyun assured, and you felt tricked for feeling relieved for a split second. “We actually had sex.”

Jaehyun’s words ended with a splutter as you elbowed him in the gut. Mark looked between the two of you, boggled. You nudged Jaehyun again with your foot, signaling for him to leave so you could handle Mark. Thankfully, he took your cue this time and grabbed his towel, mockingly saluting the both of you. You were stupid to think you were safe, though, because Jaehyun had to get another last word in before he walked off.

“See you tonight, Y/N.”

There was a long, awkward pause while Jaehyun opened the door and left the building. You and Mark were staring at each other but neither of you knew what to say or how to approach the subject.

“I just… I just came here to find you, and Jaemin told me you went to the pool. You…” Mark started. He looked absolutely horrified, like a corpse had fallen to his feet—no, rather, he looked like a corpse himself, like someone attempted to do taxidermy on him but did a shit job. “Bitch.”

“Let me explain.”

“Bitch,” Mark enunciated, “you just fucked the hottest guy here, oh my god.”

Definitely not the reaction you were expecting, but you supposed it wasn’t a bad one. You were glad he wasn’t getting into the whole ‘why didn’t you tell me? I’m your best friend’ rant, but this was equally as overwhelming.

Mark continued, “Wait—is that why you were late this morning? Oh my god, this has been a thing. You’ve been hooking up with him in secret, haven’t you?”

“No? Well, yes, but it hasn’t been much until, um”—you gestured awkwardly around you—“you know.”

“So you were the one who was with Jaehyun last night?”

“Yes.”

“And this morning before I picked you up?”

“Yes.”

“Are you two dating now?”

“Honestly, I really don't know,” you admitted. “Mark, please don’t tell anyone about this. Especially not those little shits, Chenle and Johnny.”

Mark gulped. “About that…”

Before you could question him, there was a chorus of loud clapping echoing from the locker rooms which was then followed by a few cheers. You grimaced as the two boys you didn’t want to see walked out: Chenle and Johnny, Tweedledee and Tweedledum themselves. They both wore cocky smirks as they shook their head at you, which made Mark a touch more nervous than he was before.

“Have anything to say for yourself, Y/N?” Chenle teased.

“Go to hell.” You scoffed and turned to Mark, narrowing in on him. “Why’d you bring them along? What are you? The three stooges?”

“We were looking for you so we could invite you to the movie night we were having in Jungwoo’s room!” Mark defended. “I swear, if I knew about you and Jaehyun, I never would’ve brought them along.”

You sighed deeply as Chenle snickered to himself. “Well, I guess Y/N can’t come to movie night since she has a date with—hold on, what did you call him again? The devil?”

“Okay, I get it!” You threw your hands up in defeat, eyes closed to show you were reflecting upon your actions. “I’m a dirty hypocrite and I’ve committed a crime worse than death.” You opened your eyes again. “I’m sorry.” To your surprise, Chenle and Johnny had their right hand up. You stared at it, puzzled. “Do you want me to make an oath or something?”

“In modern society,” Johnny explained, “we call it a high-five.”

It took you a few seconds to process their words before you tentatively gave them each a firm high-five. You blinked up at them before ease washed over you. This was how it always was, anyways. At the end of the day, no matter how much you guys bickered or teased each other, you always made up. That's what friends were for, after all.

“There we go,” you said, oddly satisfied. “For now, I’ll let go of the fact that Johnny snitched on me to Jaehyun behind my back.”

“How dare you!” Johnny gasped. “Chenle was with me.”

Chenle raised his hand to confirm the statement. “Indeed. Please give credit where it's due.”

“Alright, fuck you both.”

What the fuck even was a date?

This was foreign territory to you, but even so, you decided you wouldn’t rely on your annoying friends. First of all, you were sure they wouldn’t really be of any help and just endlessly tease you about it. Secondly, they were simply going to gradually grow more stressed (Mark), lecherous (Johnny), and aggravating (Chenle). Thus, you decided to slay the monster of first dates yourself.

Your first hurdle was looking cute. You packed absolutely nothing that wasn’t for the training camp, so you had already failed. Jaehyun was going to have to deal with you in your gym shorts and a school t-shirt.

Your second hurdle was sneaking away from Eunha, your roommate. That was a piece of cake considering how she didn’t exactly care. When you headed out of the room, wallet and phone in hand, she wished you a kind farewell, which you returned.

Your third hurdle was sneaking out of the hotel. You weren’t quite sure how you and Jaehyun made it outside without being spotted, but you were certain he must have tipped off some of the staff because there was no way the both of you could have walked straight out of the lobby without being reported. When you asked him, though, he said it was probably because you looked like the cleaning lady.

Needless to say, Jaehyun was on thin ice.

You loved Seoul, loved the dirty of it. Even at night, the city was alive and full of vigor, full of young people like you who were chasing cheap thrills. Jaehyun was a dream under the glowing lights, and you almost couldn’t believe that the prince-like boy was head-over-heels for you.

He took you to a wide alley with a night market, full of life and energy. Jaehyun was walking through the crowd and you were following right behind him, like some awkward fish swimming after a cuter, more popular fish upstream. There were several times where you almost lost yourself in the crowd, and Jaehyun noticed this. He reached behind him, still shouldering his way through the crowd, and grabbed your hand. The smell of spicy rice cakes, the numerous pop-up bars lining the alley, and Jeong Jaehyun gripping your hand—it all made a pretty eventful first date.

Jaehyun didn’t kiss you. Not once. He didn’t try to touch you anywhere that would have tempted you both into doing something you definitely shouldn’t do in public. There were times where Jaehyun turned pink or looked away from you shyly, and you indulged in it because this was a side of him you didn’t see often.

Jaehyun stopped at a convenience store before you both decided to head back. You waited outside for him, kicking stones as you thought of him. He was undeniably perfect, which you somewhat despised because you had spent the last two years hating his guts and this was an abrupt change. You were worried if he was buying you something; he had already bought you lamb skewers and rice cakes at the night market. You didn’t want to be the girlfriend to empty his wallet.

Wait—

Were you his girlfriend?

“Y/N,” he called when he walked out of the store, holding something behind his back with a sneaky grin. “Close your eyes.”

You bit back a smile and closed your eyes, holding your hands out. He placed the object in your hands and it felt light, so you were sure it shouldn’t have cost much. Although, your stomach was pitted with guilt at the thought of him spending money on you. You opened your eyes when he directed you to.

Plan B One-Step.

You no longer felt bad for him.

“Very romantic,” you observed, putting the packet in your wallet, “but thank you.”

You were seething. Your face grew unconditionally hot and you had to look down at your feet. It seriously pissed you off that your feelings were so clear right now because Jaehyun had bought you fucking Plan B.

Jaehyun seemed to notice right away and tilted your chin up with two fingers, chuckling. “Is something wrong?”

Your face screwed up when you decided on what you were going to ask him. “Are we dating?” you blurted out.

Jaehyun held your face gently like it would shatter if he applied any more pressure. His fingertips grazed the hinge of your jaw while his thumbs rested on your cheekbones. You were panicking when he leaned in, but it wasn’t what you expected. Jaehyun pressed a chaste kiss to your nose, grinning at your reaction. You reached up to trace his dimple with your finger.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, flustered beyond imagination, but you had already gotten this far so you continued, “do you?”

“Do I want to be your girlfriend?”

You wanted to hit yourself. “Fuck. I mean, do you wanna date me?”

“Of course,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

He drew you into his warm embrace and you buried your face into his chest, wondering how you hated this man for so long. Of course, when those cocky smirks and impish looks came back, you were sure you’d remember again. But right now, in his arms, you just knew that you wanted to be with him. You looked up at him, arms slung around him, and got on your toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

You were positive you hadn’t ever seen Jeong Jaehyun blush before tonight, but it was a sight you were sure you could never get sick of.

And you never would.

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bi-bard · 2 years

Text

Him and His Aftershave Hit like a Drug - Dean Winchester Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Him and His Aftershave Hit like a Drug

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader

Based On: erase me

Word Count: 1,204 words

Warning(s): making out, mentions of sex

Summary: (Based in the earlier seasons) (Y/n) felt dumb the moment they decided that a rebound would be a good idea. Luckily, they don't end up feeling completely alone when an old friend shows up.

Author's Note: Not gonna lie, this is probably the most suggestive thing I've ever written.

Part of my Lizzy McAlpine writing challenge. Find the masterlist here!

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

I felt like a complete idiot the moment that I stepped into the bar.

Not only was I completely overdressed for the small-town dive bar, but I also had badly misjudged the entire environment of the bar. I think my brain got a little ahead of itself when it was imagining what this would all be like.

After a rough ending to a relationship, one of my friends suggested I go out and look for something "fun". I would've originally shrugged it off. I typically prefer wallowing in self-pity from the comfort of my couch instead of in a bar full of people. Still, she persisted, not stopping the pushing until I agreed to give it a shot.

So, here I was. Giving it a shot.

I had hoped for a calm-ish night of just trying to spot a person at the bar and then just going from there.

Nothing could ever be that easy.

I walked in wearing a nice outfit to a bar that was not meant for calm in any way shape or form. I walked in at maybe seven and there was an alarming amount of people that were already shitfaced. I ignored their drunken yelling, singing, and spitting on the floor as I hopped onto one of the barstools and grinned at the bartender.

"This does not look like your scene," he commented as soon as I sat down.

"Nice to know I'm obvious," I replied with a shrug. I didn't hate the energy here. I was just hoping for something different.

He chuckled, "What can I get you?"

I rattled off a drink and tried to look like I was comfortable there.

It was not easy.

It was a new situation, and I was thrown into the deep end alone.

I had resigned to staring at my untouched drink and not even attempting to talk with anyone.

"(Y/n)," I turned around to see Dean Winchester standing a few steps away from me. "Hey."

"Oh, thank God," I said with a laugh as I stood up and hugged him. "How are you? I haven't seen you in ages."

"It's been good... busy," he replied. I knew very well that he wasn't going to go into any kind of detail, so I didn't push for more. "What about you? You don't seem to be in your... normal environment."

"I really just stick out like a sore thumb, don't I," I chuckled as I sat back on my seat. He acted like he was considering the idea; tilting his head from side to side and shrugging. I punched his shoulder. "You're an ass."

"Sorry," he held his hands up. He pulled himself into the seat next to me. "You didn't answer my question."

I sighed and looked at my drink for a moment. I tried to blink away any tears that wanted to form, "I... I got dumped."

"Oh," he muttered. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," I shook my head and waved it off. "My friends pushed me to try to have some fun... so here I am. Trying."

"Do you not want to be here," he asked.

"Better than hiding at my place," I replied simply. "Isolating isn't healthy."

"You're just isolating in public, (Y/n)," Dean pointed out. "You're hiding over here."

I just shrugged.

"Well, I refuse to let you drink alone," Dean promised, slapping the bar once. "It always looks less sad when two people are involved."

I let out a chuckled and nodded, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he said as he spared me a smile before waving at the bartender.

--time skip--

It all seemed like a great idea.

Just a night spent drinking with a friend. It was going to be great. Far better than my original plan.

Or so I thought.

It turns out that I didn't need to be tipsy to make stupid decisions. I just needed to be sad and have someone listen to my ranting and rambling.

There had been a dip in the conversation where I was just kind of staring at Dean. I think in any context other than this, I would've looked like an absolute creep.

"You alright," Dean asked after a moment.

I just leaned over and pressed my lips to his. He froze for a moment but then moved to touch my waist with one hand.

I blacked out any memory that could've been formed between the end of our kiss and walking up to Dean's motel room.

I didn't even think to question where Sam was, I just knew he was gone.

I was just happy to let Dean kiss me as long as I got some kind of affection. Just something other than the isolation that I had been dealing with for these last few weeks.

I was able to ignore any thoughts that could've stopped me.

For a while.

As Dean set me on the motel bed, a switch seemed to be flipped. My brain suddenly was overwhelmed by guilt and 'what ifs' and every other intrusive thought that could have occurred. Every question about this and my ex and what's going to happen in the future. I couldn't do this.

Dean started kissing my jaw just as I felt tears in my eyes.

I started hitting his shoulder frantically, suddenly feeling like I was suffocating in my thoughts.

"Wait, wait," I said as I shoved at his shoulder a little harder.

He leaned back, sitting back on his knees so I had enough room to sit up. I curled up by his headboard, refusing to look up from my knees.

"Are you okay," he asked.

I put a hand over my mouth, hoping to cover the sob that wanted to come out.

"Hey, hey," Dean scooted forward but didn't touch me. "Did I do something wrong?"

I lifted my head but still didn't look at him. I shook my head. It wasn't his fault that I felt like this. My brain was being an asshole and I knew that much.

"Do you want me to drive you home," he asked. I shook my head again. I couldn't be alone. Not anymore. "Okay. Do you want to talk about it?"

Again, no.

"Want me to stay?"

I nodded for the first time.

"Okay," he replied. He shifted so he was sitting next to me. "Whatever you need, I'm here."

I didn't respond or move, but I hoped that he knew that I appreciated him.

After a few minutes, he slowly reached over and held my hand. A silent reminder that he was there. I responded by leaning my head on his shoulder.

The silence and the comfort slowly started to calm my thoughts. Not all of them, but enough for me to start falling asleep on his shoulder. This wasn't going to be easy. I knew that from the start. I knew that I was going to get dragged through pain.

I never thought that I'd have someone by my side through it. My friends were great, but they all just wanted me to move on.

Dean was the first one to make me feel like it was okay to be stuck. As long as I was trying.

He made me want to try.

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

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What I Write For

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#dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #fanfiction #imagine #x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years

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Words: 12,601 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: pre-apocalypse Warnings: language (duh, it's me), violence, domestic violence A/N: This one got LONGGGGG woo! Protective, badass Daryl is just so. damn. good. Summary: Daryl has long had a crush on Y/N, a waitress at the local dive bar. When things start to go bad with her boyfriend, he suddenly finds himself solving problems for her.

Your name: submit What is this?

Your friend nudged you gently with her elbow as you started to move past her with your tray. “Hey. Who’s that?” she asked, nudging her head in the direction of the door. Two men had just walked in. They were regulars at the bar where you’d been a waitress for a long time. Your friend, however, had just started working there a couple days earlier.

“Oh, the Dixon brothers,” you said, skirting past her to load your tray up with the next round of drinks.

“Are they trouble?” she asked, giving you a sideways glance. You had to laugh at that question. The bar you worked at was a total dive and most of the clientele were unsavory characters. It was frequented by a lot of the biker gangs that road the highway causing trouble.

“Everyone in here pretty much is trouble,” you said, loading the row of beers on the bar top onto your tray.

“Even Mark,” she said, her tone dripping sweet because she knew it would annoy you. You rolled your eyes.

“Even Mark,” you agreed. You’d met your boyfriend at the bar while you were working. You hadn’t been dating that long, only about 3 months. He was a member of one of the biker gangs, but you’d grown up around people like him and the rest of the bar patrons your whole life. You were used to the whistles and catcalling and even the occasional ass-grabbery. Most of the time you felt perfectly safe at work with Charlie, the bartender, watching over things and quite frankly, most of the men tipped you generously. You just chose not to think about where they got the money. You didn’t come from any money at all, and you’d gotten a job as soon as you legally could to help your mom pay the bills. She had already been working two full-time jobs trying to keep your family afloat. Even before you’d been able to work officially you took every babysitting or lawn mowing gig you could find. Your dad was a good man, kind and loving, but an alcoholic. He’d had a work accident when you were just a baby and had chronic back pain from it. He was still young when he finally succumbed to his alcoholism.

And you’d just kept working.

“Well, that younger brother is cute,” your friend said, drawing your attention back to the two men who’d just walked in. “What’re their names?”

“Gimme a minute and I’ll introduce you,” you said. You rounded the bar and took the beers on your loaded tray over to a table of boisterous bikers and handed them out. By the time you got back up to the bar, the Dixon brothers had wandered over.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite girl,” Merle grinned at you, leaning his forearms on the bar. “Whatchu doin’ lookin’ that good up in here? You lookin’ to start a fight?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling at him. “Merle, you can knock off the sweet talkin’. It’s not gonna get you free booze.”

“Who said I even come in here for the booze?” he flirted shamelessly, shooting a wink at you. This time you did laugh appreciatively.

“Uh huh. Well, since you’re at the bar and not in my section, I can get away with ignoring you all night,” you joked. “Charlie will be glad to take your order.” You glanced at the younger Dixon brother who seemed to be quite purposefully keeping his eyes on his hands as he fiddled with a discarded beer top. “How are you, Daryl?” His blue eyes shot up to meet yours. “Doin’ alright?”

Daryl nervously licked his lips and nudged his nose up in a single nod. His heart was hammering away in his chest.

“Good. That’s good,” you said, giving him a wide smile. Daryl’s heart jumped. Fuck. He always felt completely out of control when you smiled at him like that. Half the time it shut down his ability to engage in any sort of conversation and seemed to make his body start malfunctioning. “Well, listen boys. This is my friend Rachel. She just started workin’ here a couple days ago so I expect you to go easy on her.” Rachel smiled at them and said hello. “This is Merle Dixon and his brother Daryl.” You caught sight of one of your tables trying to flag you down. “Merle is the one you need to watch out for. He’ll try his hardest to charm you right out of your skirt, even if it never works,” you joked. “Right, Daryl?”

The younger Dixon brother hardly responded, except that his blue eyes flickered up to your face again for a moment before you breezed away. He looked up again as Charlie wandered over and asked what the Dixons wanted to drink. But Rachel cut in with a smile.

“You’re busy, Charlie. I’ll get it,” she said. She was eyeing Daryl and he felt it, glancing up at her. She was definitely attractive and definitely interested in him from what he could tell, but Daryl was so hung up on you he couldn’t have cared less. “What can I get you?” Rachel asked, leaning on the bar top, giving him a small smile.

“Gimme a bourbon, honey,” Merle said. Daryl hadn’t responded. His eyes had wandered back over to you where you were chatting with a couple regulars in a booth nearby. Merle hit him on the arm.

“Just gimme a beer,” Daryl drawled, pulling his eyes off you.

The way the younger Dixon brother’s gaze was fixed on you wasn’t lost on Rachel. “Sure thing,” she said, setting about grabbing the drinks. She handed them out. “So, what kind of trouble do the two of you get up to?” Rachel asked. The question was directed at Daryl but he was staring down into his beer, apparently in deep thought about something, so Merle answered instead.

“Any and every kind,” Merle laughed.

Daryl’s eyes were on you again, flickering between glancing your way, watching you smiling and laughing, and staring back down into his beer. Rachel gave the two one final smile and parting look and rushed back over to her section where someone was flagging her down. Scribbling a few notes on her pad about the order, she happened to fall back into stride with you as you both headed up toward the bar area again. You had a break for a couple minutes and hung out by the window where the cooks sent the food out.

Rachel leaned up against the counter. “I think Daryl is taken,” she said.

You gave her a questioning look. “Really? Why? I’ve never seen him in here with anyone but his brother.”

Rachel laughed. “That’s not exactly what I meant.” You stared at her, puzzled, and she rolled her eyes at you. “Y/N, he can’t keep his eyes off you. I was trying to flirt with him and he barely looked at me.”

“What? No, come on,” you laughed. “They’ve hung around here for years and he’s never said anything. I mean, I was single for a long time.”

“That doesn’t mean anything! I saw the way he was looking at you,” Rachel said. “He seems a bit shy or something. It’s not a surprise he hasn’t said anything to you about it. And besides, now you’re dating someone.”

You shrugged. “Well, he’s—he’s just a bit quiet. I don’t think—”

Rachel turned as the cook slid out the food for one of her orders. “I’m telling you he’s got it for you. Bad.” She lifted her tray. “You’re in denial. Like you usually are when someone likes you,” she laughed. “Just trust me on this.”

As Rachel breezed away, you glanced back at the two Dixon brothers at the bar. Daryl was aimlessly spinning his beer glass in his hands, staring down at it, but a moment later he glanced up and his blue eyes caught yours. He seemed a bit startled that you were looking his way, and you offered up a small smile. Daryl gulped and ducked his head. A jolt of electricity ran through him again. Fuck. Now she’s dating someone, dumbass. Give it up. She doesn’t want you.

The rest of your shift was busy and there wasn’t much time to sit around and chat. Around dinnertime was usually when the most customers rolled in for a greasy pub meal and some alcohol to lubricate their boasting. Then the dinner crowd hung around and became increasingly more intoxicated. It was about nine when your shift was up and you pulled your apron off and stowed it behind the bar. Merle was playing pool but Daryl was still just leaned up to the counter, keeping to himself. You were about to engage him in some small talk when the door pushed open and your boyfriend walked in. He immediately spotted you and gave you a nod and a smile. You grinned back at him, grabbing your purse from underneath the bar. “Hey, I’ll see you later, Daryl!” you said brightly.

He nodded and managed to give you a small smile, really just one twitch up of one corner of his mouth. His eyes followed you through the bar and he watched over his shoulder as your boyfriend’s hands landed on your lower back and you arched up onto your toes to kiss him. Daryl felt a swell of jealousy in his chest and a hard pit form in his stomach. But he simply turned away and raised a finger to Charlie and asked for another beer.

Your boyfriend Mark walked you out into the parking lot and you stopped next to his bike. “Hop on. Let’s go home,” he said.

“I’m starving. I thought we were going to grab something to eat?” you asked.

“No, come on. Let’s go home,” he said.

You thought there was something a bit different in his tone but you brushed it off. He’d been riding all day. He was probably just ready to be done and wanted to relax. But a couple minutes later, you could tell something was definitely wrong. He was speeding far faster than he should be through town, especially with you behind him. You held tighter to him and leaned forward. “Babe, slow down a bit,” you said.

He didn’t. He took a turn fast and your stomach flipped at the feeling. “Seriously! What the hell are you doing? Slow down!” you yelled over the rumbling of his bike’s engine.

He still didn’t. It was like he was getting a kick out of your fear. If anything, his speed increased. Every turn he took you felt like the bike was about to skid out. You were getting pissed. “Slow the fuck down!” you demanded.

This time he did. But soon he turned into a parking lot and stopped completely. You released your hold on him and he climbed off. A second later he had a hold of your upper arm with a grip like a vice. “Ow!” you protested as he hauled you off his bike. You almost fell as he tugged, losing your balance as you lifted your leg over the bike. “What the fuck?!” you snapped at him, ripping your arm away and staring at him in disbelief.

“If you don’t like how I drive my own goddamn bike, you can fuckin’ walk home,” he growled angrily at you. He was glaring at you with some serious rage in his eyes.

Who the hell was this person? And where was the boyfriend you knew? That’s when you realized. You stared at him, your jaw dropping partially open. “Mark… are you—did you start using again?”

He stared defiantly back at you. “I don’t see how that’s any of your fucking business.”

That was a confirmation if anything. You felt another swell of anger. He’d had substance abuse problems before you’d met but he’d assured you he was clean and was planning on staying that way. “Actually, I think it is my business,” you retorted.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. He marched over to his bike and opened the saddle bag, grabbing your purse out and tossing it to the asphalt carelessly. The contents spilled out and rolled on the ground. “Fuckin’ walk it off,” he said, hopping back on his bike and starting it again. You stared in disbelief as he roared away from you.

“Shit! What the hell?!” you yelled as the sound of his bike roared away. You sighed heavily and stared down at the items that had spilled out of your bag, crouching to collect them and stuff them back where they belonged. You straightened up and glanced around at the secluded and dark lot and deserted street. You could walk home, but it would take you a while and you didn’t particularly like the thought of being out where you were alone. You felt vulnerable, like you’d be the perfect prey for some passing scumbag. You hugged your arms across yourself and decided to walk to the nearest gas station and see if you could call someone to give you a ride. Your mind was spinning over what had just happened. He’s using again. Fucking great. You’d have to end it. That was that. After your dad, you steered clear of anyone with a substance abuse problem, and the personality change in Mark was already so apparent and immediate you knew things would, in all likelihood, just get worse.

You walked along the dark sidewalk, just hoping no one would come along and mess with you. It was only a few blocks to the nearest gas station and you fixed your mind on just getting there. You looked over your shoulder as you heard engines approaching and groaned internally. Please just let them ride past. But you could tell immediately that they were slowing. You kept your head down and just kept walking until you heard voices yelling back and forth over the rumble. Glancing over again you saw that it was Merle and Daryl Dixon.

Merle gave you one final parting glance and roared off but Daryl pulled alongside you at the curb and shut off his bike.

“Hey. Are ya okay?” he asked in that sweet southern drawl of his.

You glanced at the earnest expression on his face. His blue eyes were slightly narrowed as he peered at you and his brow was drawn down. You nodded. “I’m fine,” you said. But your tone didn’t even convince you.

“Ya shouldn’t be out here at night on your own. Thought ya were with yer guy,” he said, a slight question in his tone.

You shuffled your feet a little anxiously. “I was but—” you shook your head. “I’m fine. I’m just gonna walk to the gas station and see if I can call someone for a ride,” you said. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Mmm.” Daryl pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment. “I can give ya a ride. I ain’t got anywhere to be.”

You considered him thoughtfully for a moment. You had the overwhelming sense that you could trust him, and maybe it was the openness of his expression or the genuine tone of his voice. Normally you would have bucked at the idea of someone you didn’t know very well learning where you lived, but you’d known Daryl for years. At least, known him on some level. He never started trouble in the bar, although he often got sucked into it because of Merle. A lot of times Daryl was one of the few trying to break it up when it happened. Mostly it just seemed like he hung around with Merle for lack of something else to do. And, sure, sometimes he drank too much and he could be a little hotheaded, but you always had the sense from his rugged but quiet exterior that underneath he was sweet. He chatted with you shyly, asking questions about how you were and your life, but he never pried and he never acted inappropriately toward you or any of the other staff. Daryl Dixon had never once grabbed your ass and that was more than you could say for most of the regulars… Finally, after some consideration, you nodded. “Okay. That’d be great. Thanks,” you said.

He nodded, nudging his nose up. “Hop on.” His heart jumped as you accepted his offered hand for assistance and slid in behind him. It jumped again when he felt your arms lightly loop around him. “Where to?” You explained the route to your house and the bike roared to life underneath you. You held on a little more tightly as he pulled away from the curb.

Your mind was whirring over what you needed to do about Mark. You knew you wanted to end it but you had just witnessed how unstable he was at the moment. Lost in your head, it seemed like mere seconds when Daryl started to slow and you looked up and realized you were already home. The lights were on inside and Mark’s motorcycle was parked in the driveway. Daryl shut his bike off and you climbed off, straightening up at the curb and glancing at him. “Thank you. Really,” you said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate it.”

His blue eyes were soft on your face and one corner of his mouth twitched up as he nodded again. “S’nothin’. Anytime.” His eyes drifted over to the motorcycle in the driveway and that little smile faded. His brow furrowed as he glanced back at you. “Ya sure you’re alright?” He sensed there was something going on. Afterall, he’d seen you leave with Mark and yet there you’d been, abandoned on the side of the road…

You gulped. Your heart started racing. You hesitated for a moment. “Um… Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks again, Daryl.”

He had an uneasy feeling but what could he do? It’s not like he could invite himself to hang around. He chewed his bottom lip anxiously for a moment and then nodded. “Alright. I’ll see ya around,” he said, starting his bike up again. He watched you turn and walk up the drive and front walkway. At the top step you glanced back at him and waved. He nodded and revved the engine as you slipped inside.

_ _ _ _ _ _

When Daryl made it back to the shitty motel he and Merle were calling home at the moment, paid for with stolen credit cards and hustled pool money, Merle was kicked back on his bed getting high. Marijuana smoke was thick in the air.

“Oh, you’re back quick, baby brother,” he smirked. “You must be a two thrust and done kind of guy,” he said with a laugh and a goading smile.

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Merle,” he growled, not in the mood for his brother’s bullshit. He pulled his leather jacket off and tossed it down on the chair in the corner before flopping down on his own bed.

“You tellin’ me you didn’t bed that girl?” Merle said, sitting up. “You’ve been pining after that pretty little ass of hers for years. Why the hell did you offer to drive her home if you weren’t gonna fuck her? What the hell was in it for you?” Daryl’s jaw clenched and he glared at his older brother.

“You’re a worthless piece of shit, sometimes, ya know that? Why don’t you just shut the fuck up?” Daryl spat back at him. He flopped down on his pillow and turned his back on his brother. He could hear Merle laughing to himself again and then the volume on the TV clicked up. Daryl was glad to fall asleep, admittedly thinking about how you smelled a little like lavender and vanilla and remembering the feeling of your arms around his waist.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next day, Daryl and Merle were back in the bar at the usual time. Your friend Rachel was behind the counter loading her tray with drinks, but as Daryl scanned the room for you there was no sign of you. Maybe you were on a break. He grabbed his usual spot at the bar and Merle was already sweet-talking Rachel again.

Daryl flagged down Charlie and ordered a bourbon. “Hey. Y/N on break?” he asked, hoping it sounded casual.

Charlie shook his head, grabbing a bottle and pouring Daryl’s drink. “No. She called in sick today,” he said with surprise. Daryl’s brow immediately furrowed.

“Sick?” he repeated. Charlie nodded and let out a laugh.

“I know. I think it’s the first time since she’s worked here,” he said. “Except the food poisoning incident a few years back,” he added with a laugh. “But, hell, we were all sick after that.”

Daryl nodded and mumbled a thanks accepting the drink from him. He couldn’t remember ever coming in and you not being there on a day you usually worked. He felt that hard pit form in his stomach again. The night before had seemed off to him in the first place. Seeing you walking alone along the road in the dark like that… What the hell? He knew the kind of people who moved through this little shit town. That wasn’t fucking safe. Your fucking boyfriend had been with you. Why had you been alone? And the way you’d answered him when he’d pressed you to make sure you were alright… you’d hesitated. Daryl downed his bourbon in one big gulp and flagged the bartender down again.

And now you weren’t in today. Your boyfriend’s bike had been in the driveway. He anxiously chewed on the side of his thumbnail. Maybe you really were just sick. But he had a feeling you weren’t. What the hell are you gonna do? Show up at her damn house like a fuckin’ stalker?. Daryl knew there wasn’t anything he could do and he hated that.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next day Merle was sleeping off a bender so Daryl rode over to the bar alone. He didn’t even want a damn drink. He just wanted to know that you were okay. That annoying pit was still in his stomach. It was still early when he came in so things were slow and there were only a couple townies nursing beers in the corner. He sidled up to his usual spot at the bar. First glance around the room revealed you were conspicuously absent.

“Daryl. What can I get you?” Charlie asked, wiping down the bar top purely out of boredom.

“Just gimme a beer,” Daryl said, tossing a few bucks down. “Shit. Hold that for a minute. I gotta take a leak,” he drawled. He headed down the hallway that led to the restrooms and took a piss, deciding he needed a fucking smoke before he went back for his drink. He was trying to ignore the anxiety swirling in his stomach that you weren’t at work again. He pushed through the back door, digging in his pocket for his lighter, but he glanced up when he sensed someone standing nearby. “Hey,” he said, realizing it was you. You were leaned up against the wall, a lit cigarette dangling between your fingers. You seemed almost to shrink away when he noticed you. “I didn’t know ya smoked,” he said surprised.

You exhaled, your knee bouncing a little anxiously. “I don’t. Usually.” Your body language was closed off, entirely unlike you.

As Daryl looked at you his unease grew and was quickly replaced with the seeds of anger. You had sunglasses on and it seemed like you were purposely trying to keep your face turned slightly away from him. His eyes landed on a bruise on your upper arm and he stepped toward you, eyes narrowed. “Ya weren’t sick yesterday,” he said. He could clearly see individual finger marks bruised into your arm.

You kept your eyes turned down toward the pavement and took another drag on your cigarette. You could feel Daryl’s strikingly blue eyes scrutinizing you now. What the hell could you say?

He moved slowly, like he was worried he would startle you, but soon he was in front of you and you couldn’t avoid his eyes any longer. There was a split in your lip and it was a bit bruised and puffy. That seed of anger in Daryl’s chest burst into a flame. “What happened?”

You pulled your eyes away from his, grateful that they were still hidden behind your sunglasses because you could feel humiliated tears burning in them. “I’m fine.”

Daryl wanted nothing more at that moment than to lift your chin and look you over, put his hands on you gently the only way someone should. But he stopped himself and sighed and shook his head, leaning back against the wall beside you and finally lighting his cigarette, casting sideways glances in your direction. “He put his fuckin’ hands on ya,” he said softly. There was a growl in his voice.

You gulped.

“What the hell happened?” he pressed again. “I knew somethin’ was off when I dropped ya off. I could fuckin’ feel it. I shoulda—”

“No, you did plenty,” you said, straightening up. “It’s not your problem.” You finally lifted your sunglasses and put them up on your head, turning to look at Daryl. Now he could see the swollen puffiness and bruising around your eye and cheekbone. He thought there was a shadow of a bruise over the bridge of your nose too. You’d clearly tried to lessen the appearance with makeup but it was still very obvious in the bright sunlight.

Daryl felt another burning wave of rage. “He done this to ya before?” he asked. Now he was wondering how many days you’d been at work with fresh bruises hidden beneath your clothes. If he had known—

You shook your head. “No. No… He—he started using again.” You sighed and leaned your back against the wall. “He was driving all crazy when we left the other night and we had a fight about it and he threw me off his bike and left me there. That’s why I was walking out there alone when you spotted me. I knew he’d started using immediately. I’d never seen him like. He was like a different person.” You ground the butt of your cigarette out against the brick wall and tossed the it into the dumpster a few paces away. “After you dropped me off I confronted him about it. I told him I didn’t want him around me or in my house. He denied it and then got angry… I—I just got out of there and ran to my neighbor’s and she called the cops.” You couldn’t find it in yourself to look at Daryl. You felt humiliated and ashamed of the whole thing. “They arrested him,” you said, scuffing a shoe on the ground. “So, that’s that.”

“Shit, ‘m sorry,” Daryl drawled. “I wouldn’ta left ya there if I’d known—”

You let out a wry laugh and caught his blue eyes. “Yeah, well… I wouldn’t have had you leave me there if I’d known. But there was no way to know he was going to hit me and—” The sight of the bruises on your face sent a jolt of anger through Daryl every time he looked at them.

“Ya don’t deserve that. ‘M real sorry ya went through it,” he said again.

There was a softness and heavy regret in his voice and it caused your eyes to flicker up to meet his again. You nodded. “Thanks.”

“So, the prick is in jail?” Daryl asked. You nodded. “Good,” he said, tossing his cigarette down and grinding it under his boot. “And he best be glad for it ‘cuz if I see him around here I’mma kick his ass.”

You shook your head at him, a questioning look on your face.

“What?” he prompted.

Maybe Rachel was right. Maybe Daryl Dixon was taken. “Nothing,” you said, shaking your head. “Probably should get back,” you said. Daryl pulled the door open for you and you both breezed back inside.

Things returned to normal for a few days after that. Same old regulars, same old drinks, life went on. But since Daryl’s obvious care and concern for you and Rachel’s comments you were suddenly noticing how you seemed to blush so easily around him… And every time you caught his blue eyes your heart jumped a little in your chest. Maybe it had always been that way and you were just allowing yourself to notice it. You’d always thought he was sweet and handsome, but nothing beyond that had been on your radar. Now that you were tuned in you seemed to be picking up on frequencies you hadn’t registered before.

One day you rushed into the bar, running late and obviously a bit harried. Charlie shot you a look as you tied your apron on. “I know! I know… I’m sorry,” you told him. “My car is on the fritz. It keeps overheating and—anyway, I’m sorry. I’m here,” you finished, grabbing your order pad and a pen.

Merle and Daryl were sitting in their usual places at the bar and you could feel the younger Dixon’s bright blue eyes on you. “Hey—I—I can take a look at it if ya want,” Daryl drawled, looking a little abashed that he was offering.

“Really?” you asked, perking up immediately. “That would be—amazing. Honestly, I can’t spare the cash at the moment to take it to a shop and—”

“‘S’no problem,” Daryl said, spinning his beer glass in his hand and ducking his head again. “Ya just say when.” You grinned widely at him and his heart fluttered.

“Thank you so much. Um, do you have any time tomorrow afternoon? I’m off work.”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “Ya. Sure.”

“Great. Thank you, Daryl,” you said.

Merle watched the exchange with some interest and then got that usual cocky smirk on his face. “Well, why don’t I come by too? While my baby brother services your car, I can help service somethin’ else,” he said, his tongue darting out to lick over his bottom lip. He chuckled at the sassy and disapproving look on your face in response.

“Keep dreaming, Merle,” you retorted, rolling your eyes at him.

“Oh, I will, darlin’.”

The bar was busy that night, but you still found yourself talking with Daryl whenever you had a spare moment. He seemed to be a little less shy the more you spoke, and you found yourself smiling and laughing more than you could remember in a long time. And it was becoming very difficult to ignore those pesky butterflies in your stomach and that warmth in the apples of your cheeks as you talked with the handsome biker and caught his blue eyes.

That night you had trouble sleeping, and as you tossed and turned you couldn’t stop thinking about Daryl and were finding yourself anxious with anticipation for the next afternoon when he said he’d come by. He’s just being nice. Don’t read into it. You had this nasty habit of talking yourself out of thinking anyone was interested in you. Rachel was good at calling you out on it. You subconsciously bit your bottom lip and rolled to your other side. But maybe he really was interested in you… You were realizing you were definitely interested in him.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The sound of a motorcycle rumbling up in front of your house and then going quiet brought you to the front window. You peeked out and saw Daryl climbing off his bike. Your heart jumped.

He watched you breeze out onto the front walk and the smile you were giving him was intoxicating. You shoved your hands into your back pockets a little nervously and met him on the driveway. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, shifting his weight anxiously from one hip to the other. You were just in jeans and a t-shirt but Daryl still thought you were the most beautiful goddamn thing he’d ever seen. “This the problem car?” he asked, jutting a finger the direction of your car.

You nodded. “Yep. I swear I can’t go two blocks without the damn thing overheating,” you explained.

“Hmm,” he hummed, walking around to the front end. “Pop the hood,” he murmured. You walked around and opened the driver’s side door and pulled the hood latch. Daryl lifted it and was immediately bent over the engine, already peering at this part and wiggling that. You came around to stand beside him and Daryl was finding it hard not to glance over at you.

“Thanks again for doing this,” you said. “You really didn’t need to offer.”

Daryl shrugged. “‘S’nothin. Can’t have ya breakin’ down. That ain’t safe,” he said.

You felt a rush of heat in your chest at his protectiveness. “Well, can I at least get you a beer or something while I totally take advantage of your free labor?”

Daryl turned and one corner of his mouth twitched up. Ugh. Your heart jumped at that boyish smile. “It’s yer day off. Don’t ya think ya’ve brought me enough drinks over the years? We ain’t at the bar.”

You laughed lightly and shrugged. “I don’t mind. It’s literally the least I can do.”

“Ya gonna have one? I ain’t a fan of drinkin’ alone,” he drawled. You nodded. “Alright. Sure.”

“Great,” you smiled. “I’ll be right back.” When you came back with two cold beers in hand, Daryl was leaning over the engine compartment in deep concentration. You allowed yourself to notice his broad shoulders and strong, toned arms and found yourself subconsciously biting your bottom lip again… Your face flushed. You practically needed to shake yourself out of it. “Here,” you said, offering him one of the beers.

He straightened up and accepted it with a nod. “Thanks.”

You leaned over the engine and peered down at what looked to you like an unknowable mass of metal. “Any luck yet?”

He took a swig of his beer and shrugged. “Well, your radiator seems fine. Coolant level is good, no signs of a leak. Might be a bad water pump. Or could be a few other things I’ll check.”

“I’m just hoping for something cheap and easy to fix,” you said with a laugh.

One corner of Daryl’s mouth twitched up again. He loved your laugh. He never got tired of hearing it. “Ya, I got my fingers crossed for ya too.”

“So, how’d you learn all this stuff? Your dad teach you or something?” you asked curiously.

“Nah. My old man pretty much only ever taught me what not to do,” he muttered, leaning on the edge of the engine compartment and ducking his head a bit.

You felt your heart sink. You sensed something vulnerable there, something painful. “Mmm. I see. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I—”

Daryl’s eyes immediately shot up to your face. “Nah, ya didn’t pry. S’alright.” His blue eyes were still fixed on your face and Daryl let himself drink in the sight of you in this new context. It felt so comfortable, so natural just talking with you, even when he neared things he never revealed to anyone. He wasn’t used to that, but he could get used to it. “Nah, I taught myself. Mostly trial and error. There’ve been times I’ve had a whole lotta nothin’ to do so,” he shrugged.

You nodded, your eyebrows lifting. “I’m impressed,” you said.

He shyly ducked his head again, hoping you wouldn’t see a red flush in his ears and cheeks as he felt them grow warm. “Pfft. It takes that little to impress ya?” he joked.

“No! Come on! Give yourself some credit! I mean it! I have absolutely no mechanical mind at all. As far as I’m concerned, an engine is a magic device that runs on belief,” you laughed shaking your head.

“Nah, c’mon. It ain’t that complicated. The engine just converts energy from the burning gasoline into work. That’s what turns the wheels. You’ve got the cylinders, right? See, your car here is a 4 cylinder. There’s a piston inside each of those cylinders that moves up and down and it’s connected with a rod to the crankshaft and that’s what turns the driveshaft which makes the wheels go. The pistons move down when oxygen and fuel are mixed and ignited. Cuz the gases expand, right?”

You stared at him blankly for a moment before a wide smile grew on your face and you laughed. “Listen, I understood everything you just said in principal but—” you shrugged vaguely, “if you asked me to explain it back in two minutes it’d already be out of my brain. Just let me be impressed with you,” you said.

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod, an amused look on his face. You thought maybe his cheeks were even a little pink as he took a swig out of his beer and turned back toward your car. “Alrigh’. I’ll try,” he said. “Ain’t used to nobody being impressed with my dumb ass.”

“Hey! Dumb ass should never be applied to you!” you argued, giving him a stern look.

“Mmm.” He ducked his head again and tried to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at your words. “Your house, your rules, I guess,” he drawled.

You leaned over the engine next to him again. “That’s right. Now please fix my damn car,” you said with a laugh.

And Daryl did just that. By the time he was wiping his hands on a red rag that had been dangling out of his back pocket and putting the tools away, you were shocked to see that the afternoon was gone and it was now officially evening. You’d stayed on the driveway with him the whole time, talking easily about everything and nothing at all, not noticing how the hours slid by. “I don’t even know how to thank you for this,” you said as he shut the hood. The handsome biker shrugged.

“Ya don’t need to. S’nothin’.”

You sighed and gave him a look, shaking your head. “You really are way too modest.” Daryl ducked his head shyly and shrugged again. “Well, it’s getting late. Um, did you want to stay for dinner? I was gonna cook something.”

He pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewed it anxiously for a minute, hardly believing you’d just offered that. He wanted to say yes, but part of him talked back. She’s just bein’ nice. She feels obligated… “Nah, thas alright. Ya probably are sick of me by now,” he said finally.

You shook your head again. “Except I’m really not, Daryl.”

His eyes snapped over to your face and he hesitated again but his nerves got the best of him. “Nah, thanks but—I should go. Gotta check up on Merle, ya know?”

You nodded but couldn’t help feeling disappointed. “Sure. Okay. Well, hey, raincheck then. You can come over some other time. I’m a good cook,” you said. “I mean, when is the last time you had a homecooked meal?”

“Uhh—” He tried to remember if he’d ever had one…

“That’s too long,” you said. “You just say when and we’ll make it happen.” You gulped and touched him lightly on the arm. His blue eyes left your face and flickered down to the point of contact between the two of you. It was electrifying and when your fingers slipped from him, he really wished they wouldn’t. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Daryl, thanks again. I really mean it. Now I won’t piss Charlie off tomorrow. I’ll actually be on time again.”

“Yeah. No problem. I’ll see ya,” he said, gathering the small bag of tools he’d brought over.

You grinned at him and felt your cheeks color. “I hope so,” you said. He gave you a somewhat baffled look and shyly murmured another goodbye. You watched as he climbed on his bike and sped away. The last thing you caught sight of were the angel wings on the back of his jacket and you thought of how wonderfully fitting that was. Even if Rachel was wrong and Daryl wasn’t taken with you, you were starting to realize you were now completely taken with him. And you didn’t know how you hadn’t seen it before.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next day at work started off insanely busy. Customers seemed to be coming in earlier than usual and you were slammed far sooner than you expected with food and drink orders. But after an initial rush, things slowed way down, and that was about the time that the Dixon brothers wandered in and took their usual seats at the bar.

Daryl looked for you immediately out of habit as he walked in and was surprised to meet your eyes which were already on him. You broke into a small smile and Daryl’s heart jumped. As soon as you could, you came over to say hello.

“Hi,” you said with an even wider grin, leaning on the bar top.

“Hey,” Daryl returned.

Merle was looking between the two of you, noting the smiles and intense eye contact. He laughed. “You two do more than fixin’ a car yesterday or what? Huh?” He nudged his elbow into Daryl hard, whose jaw clenched. The younger Dixon gave his older brother a look which could properly be described as a death glare.

“Shut the fuck up, Merle,” Daryl growled.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you said to Merle, straightening up, shooting him a smirk.

“Ahh, come on. I’m just teasing you. I know my baby brother ain’t really man enough to—”

“You know, I think I know what you were about to say and I’m gonna tell you I have a very hard time believing that to be true,” you interrupted, leaning toward Merle over the counter, your voice taking on a tone that was soft but dangerous. “I think you might need to reevaluate who the real man is between the two of you.” You straightened up and shot Daryl a warm look that made his throat constrict. “Be nice,” you scolded Merle, “or I’ll ignore you for good. You’ll be stuck listening to nothing but Charlie’s same stupid jokes.”

Daryl watched in disbelief as you breezed away across the bar and he tried to gulp at the tightness in his throat.

Merle was staring after you too, obviously looking you up and down, and he let out a low whistle. “She’s way too good for you, little brother.”

Daryl nervously ran his tongue over his bottom lip and simply let out a hum of acknowledgement. Don’t I fucking know it.

Since things were so slow, you had plenty of time to chat with Daryl at the bar. Merle eventually wandered away to play some noisy rounds of pool with some fellow bikers and you were glad for his absence. Daryl was so much more relaxed without his brother sitting beside him and making snide or sarcastic comments…

“How are ya doin’?” Daryl asked pointedly. “I mean since… ya know, that night. Ya gotta go to court?”

You avoided his eyes now, feeling that same wave of shame cresting again as you thought about your asshole of an ex-boyfriend and what he’d done to you. “Not sure yet,” you said. “I think the lawyers are still doing their legal maneuvering. Depends on if he pleads guilty or not.”

Daryl felt suddenly anxious about broaching such a sensitive topic with you. Yeah, that’s what she wants to think about, dumbass. “‘M sorry. I shouldn’ta asked. Ain’t none of my business,” he said urgently.

“No! No, it’s okay! I, umm, I appreciate it actually… It’s—I’m okay,” you said. “I feel safe knowing he’s in jail.”

“Mm,” Daryl agreed with a nod. “They get… evidence? He gonna stay there ya think?” He was seized by a sudden and unexplainable intense worry. He knew plenty of asshole men like your ex and most of them didn’t give up easily and they didn’t take any perceived slight lying down.

“Well, I had to go to the police station afterwards and give a statement. They took pictures of everything. And I went to the hospital, so they have the reports…” You trailed off for a moment. “They got statements from my neighbor who called 9-1-1.”

Daryl nodded. “If ya ever need anything, ya just gotta ask,” he said seriously.

He watched the worry on your face soften as you nodded. “Thanks, Daryl.” God, he loved the sound of his name leaving your lips.

Your shift was over and you gathered up your purse from the back and dropped off your apron and order pad behind the bar, saying goodbye to Charlie. Daryl was still sitting up at the bar and Merle was playing pool, so you were glad to have a brief exchange with the handsome biker again without his obnoxious older brother around. “Well, I’m exhausted,” you said. “At least I can go out to my car and know it’ll get me home without a problem now.”

Daryl nodded. “Can’t have ya broken down somewhere this time of night. ‘Specially by yourself.”

“Right. Well, I’ll see ya, Daryl. And I mean it about that homecooked meal!” you said with a smile.

He nudged his nose up in a nod and watched you disappear through the door into the parking lot. He raised a finger to the bartender. “Gimme a double whiskey.”

Charlie was just sliding the drink over when Daryl thought he heard something from the direction of the door and he spun on his stool. It looked like someone had partially opened it, but nobody came in and nobody had gone out and the door slammed closed. He stared at it intensely for a moment, unsure why the hairs on the back of his neck were suddenly standing on end. Probably just the wind or something…

It was just then that he heard a scream from outside in the parking lot and Daryl was immediately on his feet and out the door. He saw red as he took in the scene. Your fucking douchebag, abusive ex was trying to force you into a car and you were struggling with him, fighting as hard as you could. Your purse was on the ground beside your vehicle a distance away and Daryl could see drag marks in the gravel where he’d obviously surprised you and dragged you away. He had a firm grip on your upper arm and with the other hand had a fistful of your hair. You were struggling with everything you had, yelling and fighting, but he was a lot bigger than you. It was a battle you would have lost, despite your tenacity.

But Daryl was a blur of action. Rushing him, he swung a fist and punched him hard across the face. You fell hard to the ground as his grip on you disappeared completely. You scrambled up and out of the way as best you could, but you were dazed and having trouble breathing through your panic. You suddenly realized that there were terrified tears pouring down your face. You were trembling.

Daryl was pulling Mark up by the front of his jacket and slammed his fist into his face again. Your ex dropped to the ground hard. He was still on the ground when he kicked Daryl in the shin, knocking him off balance. Daryl landed on his back in the dirt. “Mark, stop!” you screamed. You watched in horror as Mark pulled out a knife, the same one he’d told you he had when he jumped you, the same one you had briefly felt in the small of your back as he demanded compliance. Mark started moving toward Daryl’s prone figure. You felt your face blanche completely. But Daryl was faster and a better fighter and he was back on his feet in no time, keeping clear of the knife as Mark swiped toward him with it. Charlie and the other bar patrons had come out to see what was happening and the bartender had rushed back inside and was now on the phone with 9-1-1. You were screaming at Mark, trying desperately to reason with him, but he might as well have been totally deaf for all the attention he paid you.

Daryl took an opportunity and knocked him back on his ass again with a good punch and then kicked the knife out of his hand. It skidded away on the gravel and you breathed some small sigh of relief. Daryl landed over him and was punching him repeatedly in the face as police lights flashed brighter and sirens droned louder. The cops had arrived. “Daryl!” You rushed forward. “Daryl, stop! It’s okay!” You grabbed his shoulder and he immediately froze, fist cocked back, knuckles bloodied, chest heaving. Another moment and there were cops rushing over and pulling him away. One officer immediately led you a short distance away and you watched helplessly as both Daryl and Mark were put in handcuffs and then taken away in squad cars practically before you registered what was happening. “Wait—he didn’t—No, it was Mark. He—Daryl was protecting me! He—he tried to take me and—" You were trying to explain, trying to get the words out but it was all jumbled and rushed.

“Ma’am, slow down. Take a breath! Slow down! Okay. It’s okay,” the officer coached you.

“It wasn’t his fault!” you said urgently. Just then an ambulance pulled up and the EMTs jumped out. They raced over to you and you could tell by the looks on their faces that you must be a mess, red-faced and crying. You had no idea that you were bleeding from a laceration in your forehead where Mark had bashed your head into the car as he tried to force you inside. You had no idea that your neck looked raw and red, already revealing broken blood vessels and the obvious start of bruising from his hands around your throat. There was almost a visible hand impression on your upper arm where he’d grabbed you. “You—you took both of them but Daryl didn’t—”

The officer and the EMTs continued trying to calm you down. You glanced over your shoulder and noticed that most of the patrons had skipped out as soon as they’d heard the sirens, or perhaps as soon as Charlie had run for the phone. There were only a couple left and of course Charlie as well being questioned. You rounded on the cop again. “Just take me down to the station! I’ll give you a statement and then—then you have to let Daryl go! He didn’t do anything wrong. He saved me,” you gasped, the full weight of what had happened still not hitting you.

“Ma’am, you need stitches,” one of the EMTs told you gently. “Come on. We need to go to the hospital.” His partner pushed the cop back who was intent only on questioning you.

It was like all of a sudden, the adrenaline in your bloodstream vanished and you were exhausted and the pain started to set in. You glanced back over your shoulder and met Charlie’s eyes, he nodded and gave you a worried look before you turned back to the cop and the EMTs. “My—my purse is—” you gestured to where it was lying beside your car.

“We’ll have someone bring it to you after we get photographs, okay?” the cop said. You allowed yourself to be guided into the ambulance, shock starting to set in.

The doctors in the ER wouldn’t let the police question you while they patched you up and you were grateful for that. Besides, there was no chance of what had happened fading in your memory. To the contrary, every bit of it was burned in your mind despite how fast it had all happened. But you needed a goddamn minute to process it. He was out. How the fuck was he out of jail? And why the fuck hadn’t anyone warned you? You’d just stopped beside your car, ready to put the key in the lock when something hit you hard in the head from behind and you remembered dropping to your knees, stunned and with black vision. You’d heard his voice and made a break for the door into the bar. You’d actually gotten your hand on the handle and pushed but you were grabbed and pulled back violently. And then you’d just fought as hard as you could, tooth and nail. You knew if you got into that car, there was a good chance you were going to end up dead. He wasn’t in his right mind.

It was hard to believe this was the same Mark you’d been in a relationship with. He’d never been the least bit violent toward you, but the drugs… as soon as he started using again, he was a different person. But even then, even after he’d beat you up, you never would have expected this.

Once you’d been treated and released at the hospital, you found yourself sitting in the police station with a little Styrofoam cup of tea clutched between your hands, and some cop’s coat draped around your shoulders. The interview room was uncomfortably cold, but the numbness of shock and disbelief superseded the sensation of the chill air, though you were vaguely aware that you were shivering.

A detective came in and sat across from you at the little table and you looked up at him as he settled into his chair. He sighed heavily and leaned forward, readying his pen over his notepad. “I’m Detective Peters,” he said, checking his watch. “It is Thursday, April 28th, and 10 minutes past 11.” You’d given a statement just days earlier. You knew how this worked. You knew he was marking the date and time for the recording that the little, inconspicuous camera up in the corner was taking. “Alright, Y/N. I’m really sorry to see you again so soon under these circumstances.” He was the detective who was handling your domestic violence case too.

“Yeah, well, so am I,” you said, gritting your teeth a little. The numbness receded a little and was replaced by anger. “How the fuck is it that he was out of jail? He tried to kill me. How was he out? And why didn’t anyone contact me?” you demanded.

“He bonded out. And, yes, I’m sorry… we should have notified you. But we never considered him to be this much of a danger.”

“You never considered him to be this much of a danger?” you repeated incredulously. “We discussed a protection order. I don’t think that implies that everything is peachy.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He paused. “But we need to go over everything that happened tonight and get a statement from you.”

“I’ve already been questioned three times,” you said, exhausted and exasperated. “Why did you arrest Daryl? He saved me. He’s the reason I’m sitting here right now instead of being… I don’t know, maybe dead in a ditch somewhere. Are you still holding him? Is he still here?”

“It was chaos when the officers got there. We need to get everyone’s statements to sort this all out, okay? We didn’t know who was the aggressor or—”

You sighed heavily and shook your head. “Fine. Let’s just do the statement.” You walked him through everything that had happened and consented to have more pictures taken of your injuries; the laceration on your scalp, the bruises around your neck, the handprint on your arm, the scrapes and bruises and cuts on your knees. By the end of it you were so tired you weren’t seeing straight, but the detective stood up and you glanced up when you sensed he was looking down at you.

“Wait here just a few more minutes. I’ll be back,” he said. He left you alone in that little room again and you slumped forward, resting your head on your arms at the little table, completely spent and hurting all over. You weren’t sure how much time had passed when Detective Peters came back in.

“Y/N? Follow me,” he said. You obeyed and walked blindly after him through the station until he unlocked a heavy metal door and pushed through into a room lined with a couple holding cells.

You perked up and breezed past him, scanning the room for Daryl immediately. He jumped up from where he’d been slumped on a metal bench in one of the cells as you rushed over to him. He met you at the bars. “Are you okay?” you asked him urgently. You ignored the twinge in your forehead from your stitches as you furrowed your brow.

“Me? Are ya kiddin’?” he drawled, peering down at you with nothing but concern. “Are you?” His stomach twisted at the sight of your injuries.

You knew you couldn’t get any words out through the bubble of emotion caught in your throat so you only nodded. The clinking of keys behind you drew your attention and you stepped back as Detective Peters moved forward. He slid a key into the heavy lock and turned it, sliding the cell open and gesturing to Daryl that he could exit.

“I’m sorry about throwing you in here,” the detective said. “Everything in your statements matches up, so you’re free to go, with my thanks.” He extended a hand toward Daryl who eyed it with distaste for a moment.

“I don’t want yer thanks. I want ya to do a goddamn better job. This was too fuckin’ close. Never shoulda happened,” he spat. The detective looked regretful and nodded, dropping his hand back to his side.

“Daryl,” you said softly, gently grabbing his arm, trying to reroute the conversation. You were just grateful that he was no longer in a cell. Daryl’s eyes met yours and his expression softened immediately.

Detective Peters sighed. “I’ve got one of my guys waiting to drive you both home. Y/N, they have your items for you up front too. Again… I’m really sorry. But I can assure you that Mark won’t be getting out anytime soon after this.”

“The fuck is wrong with the damn laws? Girl almost had to die before ya’ll got up off your asses,” Daryl spat angrily again. You gently touched his arm again and he relaxed some, glancing down at you and sighing.

As you were settling into the squad car to be driven home, Daryl felt your eyes on his face and he glanced over and took in the wide-eyed expression underneath the fresh stitches and bruises. “Hmm?” he prompted you.

Your heart pounded in your chest. “Could I—I’ve got no right to ask you for anything after what you’ve already done but… could I ask you for another favor?” you said quietly.

Daryl stared back at you intently, feeling suddenly nervous under your eyes. If you’d asked him for the moon at that moment, he would have fucking figured out how to give it to you. He nodded. “Course.”

You wrung your hands nervously. “I’d feel better if—if you’d stay at my place tonight. I know it isn’t rational and that he’s—he’s locked up but I’d feel safer. But if that’s too much to ask I completely understand. You’ve already done more than enough and I—”

“Ain’t no problem. I’ll stay,” he said simply. You thought of him as safety. He didn’t think anyone in his life had ever seen him that way.

You felt a wave of relief and it was visible on your face. You shut your eyes briefly, again feeling beyond exhausted and hurting almost head to toe. “Thank you,” you breathed. “Thank you.”

Daryl nodded and ripped his eyes away from you. You leaned forward and gave your address to the cop and in no time you were both climbing out at the end of your driveway.

You stood at the front door and dug your keys out of your purse. Daryl noticed how much you were shaking as you tried to fit the key into the lock and his face contorted with concern. “Here,” he said gently, his hand enclosing over yours and taking the key from you before slotting it into the lock. His heart jumped at the contact and he did his best to ignore it. Now wasn’t the damn time.

“Thanks,” you murmured, accepting the keys from him again and pushing inside ahead of him.

Daryl softly shut and locked the door behind the two of you and stood a little awkwardly on the front mat. You moved stiffly across the front room and into the kitchen, clicking on the light. Daryl heard you shifting some things around before you returned with a cloth in one hand and a small bag of ice in the other.

You nudged your head toward the couch and he anxiously chewed on his bottom lip but obeyed and took a seat. You sank down beside him, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion, but he knew better than to argue as you pulled his hand over toward you and dabbed at the dried blood across his knuckles. They were split and puffy from their repeated connection with that prick’s face. Worth it. When you were satisfied that they were cleaned up enough, you laid the cloth and then the ice across them and glanced up at his face.

There seemed to be something you wanted to say, something in your expression that took Daryl aback, but before he could decode it, it vanished and you just looked defeated and weary. Daryl swallowed his nerves and nodded at you. “Go on to bed. I’ll be right here all night,” he said.

You gave him another long look before nodding and climbing to your feet with no small amount of effort. “Thank you,” you said, and you hadn’t meant for it to come out in a whisper, but it did. He only nodded back before ducking his head and avoiding your gaze, feeling a little overwhelmed. You managed to trudge to your bedroom and practically poured yourself into bed, still in all your clothes. Feeling safe, knowing Daryl was out on the couch, you sank into a heavy sleep almost immediately.

The next morning you awoke early with the birds, stiff and aching. You clutched a hand to your head, wincing when it landed flush onto the stitches in your forehead. “Fuck,” you muttered, climbing out of bed. You went straight for the bathroom and took some painkillers, pausing to run a comb through your hair and wash your face. You tenderly touched the bruises on your neck and your arm and frowned. You looked a proper mess… You felt a wave of shame and embarrassment before struggling to shove those feelings down. You changed, feeling a little better, and quietly moving through the house, heading for the kitchen and the coffee pot.

Daryl was laid out on the couch, still fast asleep and your heart jumped at the sight of him there. He had his head resting on one of the throw pillows and was stretched out, legs crossed at the ankles, hands resting on his stomach. You couldn’t help but smile at how boyish he looked asleep and there was a wash of heat running through you as you finally tore your eyes away and padded softly into the kitchen.

Coffee brewing, you pulled ingredients out of the fridge and went about making some breakfast. In the other room, Daryl woke up to the sound of you cooking and the smell of bacon. He sat up and shifted on the couch, stretching and feeling a little self-conscious that you had obviously walked through and seen him asleep. He hastily ran his fingers through his hair, trying to smooth down any craziness that might be going on.

Your voice from the doorway into the kitchen drew his eyes. “Hey. Morning.”

You had a goddamn smile for him. Despite what you’d gone through the previous night, you were smiling. At him.

“Hey,” he returned. “Ya get some sleep?”

You nodded and stepped out into the living room, a mug in your hand. “I did.” You were sure your face was coloring pink. “Thanks for staying. Um, do you drink coffee?” you asked, gesturing with the cup in your hands.

He nodded. “Sure,” he said, climbing to his feet. You met him halfway and pushed the mug into his hands. The ceramic was warm and Daryl looked down at the spirals of steam curling away from the surface.

You disappeared for a moment and returned with your own mug. “I’ve got breakfast cooking if you’re hungry,” you said, sinking down onto the now empty couch. Daryl gulped and took a spot at the other end from you.

You took a sip, annoyed at how fast your heart was racing as you looked at the handsome biker on the other end of your couch. “How’s your hand?” you asked him.

He pulled it off the mug and flexed and curled his fingers a few times. It was deeply bruised and the knuckles were definitely still swollen. “S’fine,” he drawled. In truth it hurt, but far less than looking at what was left on your skin from what you’d endured. “How are ya?” A shadow darkened his face for a moment with worry.

You nodded a little hesitantly. “I’ll be okay. Took some painkillers so…”

Daryl pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewed on it anxiously for a moment. “‘M real sorry any of this happened to ya. Ya don’t deserve that.”

You gulped nervously. “Thanks…” You gave him another little smile, this one a little sad, but it seemed like your face brightened quickly again as you looked at him. He ducked his head.

In truth, Daryl couldn’t believe this was real. He’d pined after you for years, subsisting purely on a quick smile here and a word there as you simply did your job. If someone had told him a month earlier that he’d be sitting your house with you sipping coffee he would have thought they were batshit crazy. This was a long way from waking up in that dingy, smoky motel room with Merle bitching about needing another fix even before he could throw the blankets off. He’d never dared to think he would have anything like this, anything nice and normal. Not that he really had it… But even if this was a temporary, singular event it was doing something like filling him up and showing him that life wasn’t all just shit.

You were studying him as he seemed lost in thought, occasionally taking a sip of coffee, and you watched some anxiety cross his face. “C’mon and eat something with me. It’s the least I can do,” you said, nudging your head in the direction of the kitchen. Daryl glanced up and nudged his nose up in a nod before following you in.

You grinned a few minutes later as you sat across from each other at your little kitchen table and Daryl ate ravenously. He was suddenly self-conscious as he realized you were staring at him and he hastily wiped his mouth on his sleeve, but you only leaned your chin on your hand and continued looking at him with that little smile on your lips. It didn’t seem to belong there when you had fresh stitches and bruises. “Hmm?” he prompted, sensing there was something on your mind.

You shrugged and finally looked back down at your own plate. “Nothing. This is—this is nice,” you said.

Daryl gulped. “What is?”

“I don’t know. Just… this. Breakfast with you.”

Daryl’s heart jumped but he nodded in agreement, trying his hardest not to give in to the thoughts of self-doubt and inadequacy. It was nice. It was more than nice. He felt like he had fallen through a wormhole into an alternate reality.

You set your mug down and gave him a long look. “I’m a little surprised you weren’t scared away,” you admitted. “I wouldn’t blame you if you had wanted to just distance yourself from the girl with the psycho ex… Go back to me just being your waitress at the bar.” You twirled your mug in your hands, looking anywhere but at him.

Daryl’s brow furrowed and he studied your somewhat ashamed expression. “Nah. None of this is your fault. And—anything I can do to help, I’ll do it.”

Your eyes shot up to his face and this time his blue eyes held yours steadily. You didn’t know inside he was reeling. The atmosphere between the two of you felt suddenly thick and heavy, charged with electricity and hopeful expectations. Right when you were about to say something, or maybe do something the phone rang and you were startled out of that bubble of tension. You jumped a little and laughed abashedly before going to answer it.

Daryl let out a breath he hadn’t been holding and climbed to his feet, grabbing the dishes and piling them into the sink simply for something to do while you were on the phone. It was a quick call and when you turned around Daryl was rubbing a hand a bit nervously over the back of his neck. “Well, thanks for breakfast. I should probably get goin. Get outta yer hair’,” he drawled. He was sure you’d had enough of him by now.

“Oh,” you said. Wait, did that sound like disappointment?

Daryl gulped. “Ya should rest today. Take it easy,” he said. You nodded and wrung your hands a little nervously.

“I’ll try,” you said. You followed him out into the front room and watched as he pulled the door open and stepped outside, glancing back at you over his shoulder. “Thanks again. For… saving my life and staying and…” you trailed off.

Daryl was very aware that his heart was racing and that there suddenly seemed to be an expanding empty space between his lungs as he got ready to walk down your steps. “Yeah, uhh… don’t mention it. I’ll see ya.”

You gave him one final small smile and he turned away, giving you a clear view of the wings on the back of his vest. Something about the sight of those jolted you out of your hesitation and into action. You squeezed your eyes shut and swore under your breath, stepping out onto the stairs and touching his shoulder.

Daryl turned back in surprise and saw you looking a little wide-eyed and breathless. “Ya alright?”

You gulped down your nerves and looped your arms around his neck, your eyes closing as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, one of your hands moving to clasp his face, feeling the angles of his jaw and the stubble on his skin. It was soft and sweet, but your nerves got the better of you and you pulled back, anxious to take in his expression. He was on the step below you so his blue eyes were even with yours and you thought they were a little searching or maybe a little stunned.

His hands were suddenly on your waist, and it made him flush with heat, his eyes flickering between yours. His heart was pounding so hard and so fast he was worried you’d hear it. “Uhh… are ya sure this is a good idea right now?” he asked in that sweet southern drawl of his.

He watched a faint smile cross your lips and you nodded, your arms around his neck still. “Yeah. Best idea I’ve had in a long time.”

Daryl didn’t need any more encouragement. One of his hands pressed into the small of your back and pulled you into him while the other floated to clasp your face and tangle into your hair. Your lips crashed together, needy and sweet at first but building in heat as you both realized how long you had wanted this and how much better it was than you had even hoped. You smiled into his lips and pulled him more tightly into you, pressing your body against his. Daryl’s lips softened against yours and his hand smoothed through your hair to the nape of your neck as you pulled back just enough to look into each other’s eyes.

“Come back inside,” you breathed, running your fingers through his hair.

His eyes closed at the sensation and he nervously licked his lips. “If ya want me to.” He needed to hear it for it to be true, for this to be real.

You grinned at him, biting your bottom lip. “I want you to. Daryl, I—I wanted to kiss you last night. As soon as you were out of that stupid jail cell, but… I didn’t want you to think I was only doing it because I was—scared or concussed or something… So, come back inside and spend the day with me... Please?”

His expression softened and his lips curved in a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He nudged his nose up in a nod. “Alright,” he said, understated for the wild happiness and disbelief he was truly feeling. You were solid underneath his hands. His palm was flush to your lower back and you were leaning into him. “Anythin’ ya want.”

You shook your head at him and gave him a fond look. “Just you.”

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