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jinnie-ret · 7 months

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scarred knees and insecurities

Stray Kids x Ninth Member!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content warnings: insecurities, heat exhaustion, mean online comments

word count: 2.7k

summary: when the old scars from your youth, become fresh wounds in your adulthood, the boys are there to pick up the pieces.

100 followers special!!! Thank you so much for all your support so far, I hope you enjoy this imagine! I personally share this same insecurity and although I have played it up more for this imagine, I hope that nothing said will offend anyone, I've just written it from my perspective.

As always, asks are open! Let me know what you want to read next! Enjoy! :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Annyeong, Stay!" Y/N greeted the fans as she started streaming on YouTube. She was currently in one of the practice rooms at JYP, ready to dance for stays as she normally did when she went live. She was relaxed in some casual clothes, a big t-shirt and some shorts too.

"What song shall I dance to first?" Y/N grinned at the camera as she read the comments.

"Oh- who said WAP?!" Y/N laughed and shook her head, "Stays you can't be talking like that!"

She got up and started dancing, not to WAP, but to their new song Social Path. Anyways, they weren't allowed to play music outside of their company anymore, so it only felt right.

Finishing the dance, Y/N panted lightly, crouched over with her hands on her knees. As she took a sip of water, sat with her knees bent in front of the camera, certain comments started catching her eyes, no matter how much she tried to act normal and answer questions.

What's wrong with her knees

Ew but why do they look like that

Their knees look so old and wrinkly

Y/N needs to get that checked out it looks so unnatural

Just another reason why she's ugly

Of course, there were actual questions, with Stays giving song recommendations and asking Y/N about what she had been doing recently, but she couldn't help but catch sight of the mean comments. She shifted her body so that her knees were off screen, maybe then the harsh words would lessen.

Look, she's hiding them because she's realised how disgusting she is

Disgusting?

Y/N bit her lip and cleared her throat, but decided she didn't want to force herself to sit there in front of millions of fans when she was trying not to let her thoughts spiral.

"I'm feeling kinda tired guys so I'm going to end the live now, bye!" Y/N blew a kiss like always at the camera and sighed as she ended the live.

She had thought about it a couple of times, she wasn't all too fond of the way her knees looked either. But it always felt different and hurt more when someone else points out your insecurities. Her knees had visible scars on them from how clumsy she was as a child. You could see them stick out yet they were healed over and so had blended in with her skin tone. The other thing was that often she'd find after kneeling down or having pressure on her knees, there'd be a redness or slight colour change to them.

Absentmindedly scratching over the bumps of her scars, Y/N looked up when she heard a slight tap on the door.

It was Hyunjin.

"Why did you end your live early? I was enjoying watching you dance," he pouted at her, clearly in a playful mood as he flopped down beside her in the practice room.

"Don't know, guess I just felt tired," Y/N shrugged. She wasn't tired really, just currently feeling low in her mood.

She jolted as he put his head in her lap, in attempt to look up at her face.

"You're acting all quiet, Y/Nnie," Hyunjin commented, hand stroking her knee comfortingly as he knew this was one of her tells when she wasn't feeling too happy.

Yet this action didn't have the same effect as normal. Y/N moved his hand off of her legs and did a fake shiver.

"It's cold in here..." Y/N rubbed her bare legs, hiding her knees before standing once Hyunjin had removed himself from her.

"I've got some spare clothes, it's in my bag in the other room, come on," Hyunjin patted her on the head gently, before resting his hand against her back as he guided her out of the room.

He wasn't silly. He could tell that Y/N wasn't quite feeling herself at the moment, and the best thing him or any of the other boys could do was treat her gently, that's what she always needed when it came to things like this.

A few days later, Stray Kids were set to do a photoshoot on the beach, perfect for a hot day. Well, as long as they didn't get too hot...

Y/N scanned the clothes that were on the rack in the dressing room with her stylist. She smiled as she caught sight of a beautiful white and blue dress, it fitting their cute casual concept perfectly.

"Oh, Y/N we won't be needing that one today, we've got a better option instead," the stylist fanned her own face, feeling the heat too as she passed over a small pile of clothes to Y/N. It consisted of a heavy pair of jeans, alongside a baby tee with a cute graphic of a heart on it. Now that, she could get behind, she thought the tee was adorable, but the heavy jeans? It was such a hot day.

"But everyone else is wearing shorts, wouldn't it be better if I did too-" Y/N began, before the stylist sympathetically patted her hand, yet it came across as being more condescending than anything.

"Honey, we're just doing what the fans will like best, like wearing jeans instead of anything more revealing, you know, because of your knees," she said, before turning around and sorting through other clothes so that Y/N could change.

What she hated the most was how the stylist's words trailed off into a whisper, like she was ashamed, like Y/N should be ashamed of her body. The company were aware of the comments that had been made online, and just after Y/N was building herself back up and ignoring the thing she can't change, this happened.

Dejectedly, she put on her assigned outfit, and left to head outside in the sweltering heat to join the boys.

"Y/Nnie come stand with me!" Felix dragged her next to him happily. The boys had noticed her mood get better the past few days but being the sunshine he is, he noticed that she was once again in the same low mindset.

"Y/N, aren't you... too hot in that?" Changbin rested a hand on her shoulder as he looked at the heavy jeans she was wearing, fabric slumped over at the top of her trainers.

"No, no, this is fine, it was picked especially for me," Y/N lightly smiled, trying to paint her face to seem content when really she was already sweating, causing a makeup artist to run over and quickly powder her face. Y/N couldn't hide the slight truth in her words, and she was silly to think the small bitterness didn't come through in her tone.

"Okay, just be careful, it's too hot to be wearing those, seriously..." Changbin nodded before returning to where he was previously stood, clearly not happy with the situation his younger member had been put in.

Felix side hugged her before they did their group photos first, the others expressing their confusion for the clothes she was wearing.

"Y/N! You must be so hot!" Han audibly gasped, and all she could do was shrug at him, not really having the words to respond, feeling too hot and overwhelmed at the moment to really think.

"Solo photos now!" the director called out, and one by one they posed, Y/N being the last one to head up, as they were going in age order. As Jeongin stepped up for his turn, Y/N scanned around her for some water she could have, seeing black spots enter her vision slowly.

"Here. Drink, or you'll be too tired to even stand," Seungmin appeared with a bottle of water in front of her, sarcasm coming across through his words as he didn't seem to realise how bad she really was feeling, and that she was too tired to stand.

"Thanks, Seungminnie," she mumbled, drinking it quickly as he nodded and walked away, going to change out of his clothes.

"Yah, you'll choke if you keep this up," Lee Know took the bottle from her hands as he crouched down next to her.

"Just thirsty," Y/N fanned herself as she leant back in her chair.

"You sure that's it? Looks like something else is going on too," Lee Know took one of her hands gently, rubbing a thumb across her knuckles.

"Y/Nnie it's your turn!" Jeongin happily walked over, informing his fellow member yet taking away the chance of gaining more information from his other.

Lee Know sighed as Y/N stood up, standing at the beach bar setup first.

Her movements were slow, yet she was sure it looked casual enough to not seem like she was on the verge of wanting to collapse from the heat. Little did she know, a certain leader had been diligently watching her the whole time. He had inquired about the outfit to the stylists and was annoyed when they said Y/N picked it herself. He knew that wasn't the truth.

"Y/N, turn your head to the left a bit! To the left, turn your head to the left," the director frustratedly said through the megaphone, catching the attention of all the members who were now watching.

But Y/N couldn't really hear what was happening around her. She was more focused on trying to stand up straight right now, panting lightly as she did so.

"The director is being a bit harsh..." Hyunjin whispered to Jeongin, who nodded back in response.

"But she's not acting herself either, look," Jeongin nodded towards the girl, who couldn't seem to keep her head up straight.

"Channie hyung, something is wrong with Y/Nnie," Felix said to his fellow Australian member, frowning as he watched the girl.

"I know. As soon as she's done with her photos I'm going to ask-" Chan turned his head away for one second as he spoke to Felix.

One second.

One second he stopped watching over her, and now she was on her knees, leant against the fake bar as she pulled at the collar of her t-shirt for some air.

Gasps rang out from around the room as both Stray Kids and the staff rushed to help Y/N.

"I knew there was something wrong," Chan shook his head as he started patting Y/N's face with a wet towel provided by the staff.

"Y/N, can you hear us?" Changbin hovered around them, concerned at the state she was in.

It all sounded so muffled to Y/N. She had felt that she had been moved into a position where she was laying down, felt slight relief from the cooler feeling on her face, but her eyes were still resting shut. She managed to let out a groan in response, which offered a light sense of peace before they realised they needed to do more.

"We need to get her inside in an air conditioned room or something!" Chan commanded the staff, as he lifted her up after they nodded and he laid her down on a sofa, the other members following through.

"She needs to get out of these jeans, who's big idea was that?" Seungmin huffed, irritated.

"Let me," a female staff member gestured for the boys to turn away as she and another stylist quickly changed Y/N out of her jeans and into some shorts, letting the boys know they could turn around once more.

They had a fan pointed at Y/N as they tried to get her to sip from some water.

"Come on, Y/Nnie, just slow sips, yeah?" Hyunjin held the bottle with a straw to Y/N's face, a hand under her chin tilting her head ever so slightly so water wouldn't spill down her.

Lee Know tied her hair back, soothingly stroking it back before he gathered it all out of the way.

Y/N's eyes opened wide, feeling a bit better as she had cooled down now. But she saw that her knees were exposed and being in the vulnerable state she was, she grabbed a blanket and covered her knees, her mind going 100 mph and all it could think was that the boys thought she was disgusting.

"No, you don't need a blanket, Y/Nnie, you're too hot right now, that won't help," Han grabbed her hands and held them against her stomach lightly, feeling concerned when her eyes became glossy with tears.

Y/N shook her head, not yet finding the words to explain what she was feeling.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Chan's voice broke through all of her thoughts, the oldest member being someone she could always rely on.

"They're ugly," she mumbled, eyes darting back and forth between her legs and Han's hands holding onto her own.

"What are?" Felix asked confused, looking back and forth between the boys as they all seemed to be catching onto why you had been feeling a bit low the last couple of days.

"My knees. Got scars on them. They're disgusting. Don't want you to have to see them," Y/N rushed out, feeling the grip round her hands tighten ever so slightly and a hand brush through her hair soothingly.

"Now why would you say something so stupid?" Lee Know sighed, hating how she was thinking.

"Don't call her stupid," Hyunjin whacked Lee Know on the shoulder.

"It's fine, it's silly really. B-but Stays didn't like it so why would you?" Y/N bit her lip, still unable to make eye contact with the boys.

"Y/Nnie, look at me," Chan sat in front of her, and reluctantly she looked at their leader. "Is this why you were put in that outfit?" his tone dropped lower, despising how one of his members had been put in such a position for something out of their control.

"The company agreed too... I didn't want to wear it but I guess it was for the best..." Y/N said unsurely, not really knowing how to explain the situation.

"Not when you nearly passed out from the heat!" Changbin exclaimed.

"Y/N, there is nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing about you is disgusting. They're just from when you were a kid, right? You can't control that," Chan said softly as he rubbed her shoulder soothingly.

"I just hate how they look and then when Stays started pointing it out it made me remember how much I hate them," Y/N frowned and looked at her knees distastefully.

"They're not real Stays if they're making horrible comments like that," Seungmin pointed out, as the rest of the boys nodded in agreement.

"Plus if people are always staring at your knees, that's kind of weird," Jeongin laughed, which brought a smile to Y/N's face.

"I guess so," Y/N nodded, the grin still there.

"Aw there's that smile," Changbin cooed, squishing her cheeks together.

"Hyung, she's not a baby," Han laughed at Changbin's antics.

"But, Y/N, just know, it's okay to have insecurities, we all have them, it doesn't make you weird or mean that there is something wrong with you. But this is not the way things should have happened, please talk to us next time. I know it was the company that decided for you today, and trust me, I will be having words with them about this... but please don't obsess over this, yeah?" Chan hugged her to him, resting his head on hers as he talked to her, wanting her to know that they were a safe space for her.

"Okay, okay, I'll try," Y/N nodded as she relaxed against Chan.

"Good. And just know, whatever type of scars you have, it doesn't define you, and they're certainly not ugly. Everyone has some, whether they're visible or not," Changbin patted her knee, being slightly more serious in contrast to him babying her ten seconds ago.

"Woah, hyung, that was deep," Hyunjin clapped.

"Our Changbinnie is so good," Han said in a high pitched voice, causing the older member of 3RACHA to jokingly raise his fist at his dongsaeng.

"Thanks guys, I mean it," Y/N said sincerely with a relaxed smile to the rest of the boys who weren't caught up in the chaos. Let's be honest, it wouldn't be Stray Kids without any chaos, it just wouldn't be right.

1K notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 2 months

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it's easy fallin' in love with you

AN | Nothing much to see here, just the night you meet Steve Harrington and fall in love. 💕

Warnings | Mild Language

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That guy’s been staring at you all night,” Allie nudged your arm and subtly nodded her head across the crowded bar. You tried to inconspicuously follow her gaze and found yourself looking at the very man that had caught your eye from the moment you’d arrived, “he’s totally checking you out.”

“He’s cute,” you whispered into her ear. She looked him over and tutted slightly, “don’t be like that!”

“He’s fine,” she offered you a wolfish smile, “but he’s totally your type. Go and talk to him!”

“I shouldn’t,” you insisted softly, although you really wanted to. The boy - man - was tall and lithe with golden sun kissed skin and a glorious head of hair. He was handsome in a traditional, yet untraditional way, and well dressed to boot. You could see that his eyes, even from a distance, were a pretty honey brown. When he caught you looking at him, he raised his hand in a small little half wave before offering a lopsided grin, “I really shouldn’t.”

“You really should,” she insisted, nudging you in his direction, “whats the worst that could happen?”

“He could break my heart,” you whispered, starting at your shoes on the sticky bar floor, “it’s stupid. He probably really can’t even see me properly. He’d be disappointed so why bother, you know?”

“Hi,” you froze at the sound of the voice and turned your gaze up to the pretty boy. He was smiling prettily, all teeth and plush lips. Your heart started to pound in your chest, as you opened and closed your mouth a few times, staring at him wordlessly, “I’m Steve.”

“Hi Steve,” Allie wrapped her arm around your shoulders and grinned widely at him. She offered him your name as you felt your entire face warming up, “my lovely friend here has been talking about you all night. She thinks you’re super cute.”

“Allie,” you hissed sharply as you came to your senses. You were going to kill her at the first opportunity you had, “stop.”

“Love you,” she whispered softly with a kiss to your cheek as she pushed you towards him, “I’ve gotta go. Buh-bye!”

You watched her go with a helpless expression, fully aware that Steve was watching you intently. Sighing softly you looked back at him, “sorry about her, she’s…a lot.”

“No worries,” he had such an easy going manner about him, “if it’s easy consolation, I think you’re super cute too.”

“Oh, I-I…” you weren’t even sure what to say or do. It had been a long time since anyone had caught your eye and even longer since someone had so openly shown you so much interest, “do you…want to grab a drink?”

“Yeah,” he agreed easily, “I do.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you were in a small, cozy booth towards the back of the bar, the lights low and only the smallest bit of space between the two of you. When you’d grabbed your drinks, he’d easily guessed your drink of choice and had beaten you to paying. Since then, you’d been engrossed in conversation, your drinks half consumed but long forgotten.

In the past you’d need a large number of drinks in order to make through almost any date, but you didn’t feel like that was necessary with Steve. He was so easy to talk to and get along with that it was almost scary. But you found yourself so drawn to him that it felt like you’d been destined to meet each other. You had never really believed in any of that before, but you weren’t going to question it either - not tonight, not when everything felt so good and so right.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked after a while, catching you off guard. You raised an eyebrow, not entirely against the idea.

“Now? This late?” you asked and he laughed - a warm, pretty sound that made your heart beat a little faster, “what are we going to do?”

This was the point where you half expected him to suggest going back to his place. One night stands weren’t really your thing; part of you was already sad to let him down. He might have sensed what you were thinking and feeling because he quickly shook his head, “no - no. Not that. I don’t want-”

“Oh,”

“No, I mean I do,” he groaned as he ran his hands through his thick, luscious hair, “respectfully I do and would absolutely do that, but I have something different in mind.”

You were giggling now, a pretty sound that Steve thoroughly enjoyed. You grabbed your drink and finished off the rest before leaning closer towards him, “what did you have in mind then?”

“Have you ever done karaoke before?” he had a mischievous look on his face as your mouth dropped open. That was definitely not on your bingo card for the evening; then again, neither had meeting Steve.

“Surprisingly not,” you sat back and shook your head in amusement, “are we going to do karaoke, Steve?”

“We’re going to do karaoke. What do you say?” You slid out of the booth and held out your hand to him, motioning your head towards the door.

“Don’t make me regret this,” but you already knew that you were going to enjoy this night. He was staring at you as though you had hung the stars and the moon.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

An hour later your sides were sore from laughing too much and your face hurt from smiling too much. The two of you had just done a round of loud, fun karaoke, picking the worst possible songs for both of your voices. But none of that mattered - you were having too much fun to think about anything else. Plus, everyone around you was either also taking part of the bad karaoke or a few drinks in and couldn’t tell the difference between actual talent and the worst thing they’d ever heard.

Steve had helped you off the stage, his frame warm around yours. He looked at you, sweaty and tousled but still wickedly handsome. It was hard to hear over the thump of the music and the half-drunk singing in the background so you leaned into his space, “that was so much fun.”

You took advantage of the moment and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His cheeks flushed even redder than before, “have you ever gone to the beach at midnight?”

“No,” your eyes grew wide as he started towards the exit, taking your hand in his, “Steve. Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” he insisted in a way that made you feel warm and hopeful but also so alive. You nodded eagerly and let him take the lead, pulling you through the thick throng of people and back into the chill of the evening air. As soon as he noticed you shivering slightly, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, “that should be better.”

“Thank you,” you grinned at him. It wasn’t like you to just go with a man you’d just met and do all of these things with them. But this wasn’t just any sort of ordinary night and Steve didn’t feel like any sort of guy, “let’s go to the beach then!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you got there, it was late and it was peaceful and there weren’t many people out. The beaches of Chicago weren’t a huge attraction this late at night. You walked around the waterline and he playfully threatened to throw you into the water, and pretended to run away from him. The ease with which the two of you got along was magical. Eventually, the two of you found a spot in the sand and sat in peaceful, contemplative silence.

“I’ve never really watched a sunrise like this before,” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder. The two of you were sitting in the sand, feet buried, as you watched the sun slowly start to rise in the distance. The sun was turning from inky blues to pretty pinks and purples and eventually to gold and orange, “it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, reaching for your hand and taking it in his, and giving it a gentle squeeze, “it is. I like coming out here sometimes because it’s so quiet and peaceful. Almost no one else is awake.”

“As much as I like sleeping in, I could get used to this sometimes,” you stifled a yawn as you watched the waves gently lap and break in the distance. You felt your tummy rumble, and a brilliant idea popped up in your mind, “do you want to get breakfast?”

This time it was his turn to look at you in surprise, the corners of his mouth perking up in a small smile, “starving. What’d you have in mind?”

“There’s this little hole in the wall diner that I love. They’ve got the best pancakes and eggs in the city easily and its one of those secrets you have to share with people,” you felt silly getting so excited about food, diner food at that, but judging from the look on Steve’s face, you had nothing to worry about, “and I would love to let you in on this well kept secret.”

“Consider me intrigued, hungry, and honored,” there was a wickedly happy glint in his eye as he slowly stood up and brushed the sand bits off himself. Helped you to your feet and proceeded to dust you off without you even asking or anything. That little bit made your heart practically flutter with happiness, “just give me directions and we’re on the way, baby.”

You looked at him, all sleepy and starry eyed with a saccharine smile, “I like you, Steve Harrington. It feels like I’ve known you my entire life.”

“I like you too,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing a pretty pastel pink, “I feel like you’ve always been here.”

The two of you looked at each other for a few moments before he gently took your face in his hands and kissed you, slow and deep. You liked kissing him; it felt familiar and new all at once. Plus, you know, he was an excellent kisser which didn’t hurt anything.

“If that’s how you feel about me now,” you teased when he pulled away, shy and bashful, “wait until try the pancakes - you’ll love me then.”

“I believe you,” and you believed in what he was saying, “let’s go!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“So?” you asked in between bites of sweet, delicious fluffy pancakes, “what do you think?”

Steve had just stuffed a huge bite into his own mouth but made a small sound of content. You eaned back in your seat with a small, satisfied expression on your face. It was still early in the morning and there were only a few customers in the diner besides the two of you. The waitress had been loud, cheery, and kind and made you feel so at home and comfortable.

“Delicious,” he agreed as he swallowed the bite, “you definitely weren’t lying.”

“That’s one thing I don’t do,” you promised, “I don’t lie.”

“Tell me more,” he took a sip of the coffee and looked at you eagerly, “tell me everything about you. I want to know everything.”

“Everything?”

“Everything,” he confirmed, “I want to know it all.”

“How much time you got?” you were joking, but you knew that he was sincere in his questioning.

“For you? All the time in the world,” his smile was winning, big and pretty and you wanted to see it for the rest of your days.

Was it possible to be in love with the man that had been a total stranger at the start of evening? Because you were pretty sure that had just happened.

“Okay,” you bit the inside of your cheek to keep the smile from breaking your face, “only if you promise to tell me everything about you.”

“Deal.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What are you thinking about, huh?” Steve came back into the living room, two mugs of hot chocolate in hands, topped off with mini marshmallows. He set them on the coffee table before sitting back down next to you. You leaned into him and leaned your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you.

“Nothing much,” you whispered softly, turning your head to press a kiss to his cheek, “just thinking about the night we met.”

He chuckled fondly, giving you a small squeeze, “it feels like it was just yesterday sometimes. Other times it felt like it was a hundred years. That was a good night.”

“Yeah, it really was,” you agreed, “good thing Allie was so…loud and obnoxious or we might have ever met.”

“Maybe not that night,” Steve shifted so he could properly look at you, “but we’d have met one way or another. I’m sure of that.”

“Yeah?” your smile stretched across your entire face as you beamed at him. He gently put his hands on the side of your face, brushing his thumb gently over your cheek. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, “I’m so in love with you, Steve Harrington.”

“And I’m so in-”

“Daddy,” you heard the sound of her small, soft voice before you heard her small footsteps or saw her come into view, “Mama.”

“Hey Busy Miss Lizzy,” you held out your arms to her and she padded her way over, clutching onto her favorite stuffed dog, “what are you doing up, baby?”

She clambered her way onto the couch, and made herself comfortable in Steve’s lap, “I couldn’t sleep. I had a bad dream.”

In her little voice it sounded more like a bad dweam, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to laugh. You stroked her chubby little sweet as Steve kissed the top of her curls, “do you want to stay with us for a little bit?”

“Yes,” she looked between you and Steve with a hopeful little look, “please.”

“C’mon,” you grabbed the blanket at the end of the couch and draped it over the three of you, “that’s better. You two comfy?”

“Mhmm,” Steve hummed in content, happy to be surrounded by his favorite girls, “perfect.”

“Me too,” Lizzy grinned happily, displaying her little gap toothed grin, “can I have some hot chocolate?”

You exchanged a look with Steve before laughing softly.

You hadn’t imagined any of this the night you’d met him entirely by chance. But, you wouldn’t have changed a thing.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #joe keery #st

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macfrog · 10 months

Text

welcome home cowboy like me chapter five

he's back!!! and he's putting up DECORATIONS part v is yours, loves. if ya wanna read the first four (!! how did we get here) parts, you can check out my masterlist right here 😊 as always your support means the WORLD to me. i love talking with y'all & hearing your thoughts. lmk what we think of this one!!!

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel requests your help to decorate his house for sarah’s return…and a few other things, too

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! the smut is smutting. oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it the fuck UP), praise kink, lil bit of overstimulation, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), un poco consumption of alcohol, cursing, soft!joel at the end tbh i'm a sucker for him

word count: 5.4k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

It’s where this was headed anyway, wasn’t it? You’ve fucked around with Joel three times now, and none of your clothes have ever made it off your bodies. This is a first. You’ve never had an empty house plus the time and space to really do it. Always someone about to walk in, or someone waiting for one of you. When, if not right this fucking second? “I want,” you breathe, fingers now taking hold of the waistband of his black boxers, “you,” you slip them down, “inside me,” exposing the base of his hard cock, “right now.”

The two front legs of your chair scrape against the wooden floor as you lift it to sit down. Your dad had an early finish today, so said he’d cook dinner. From scratch.

He’d refused your help when you offered to keep an eye on the chicken, was more offended when you said you’d cook the asparagus, and now, looking at your scrunched nose as you stare down at the lumpy mashed potatoes, looks just plain insulted.

“Sit, eat, don’t say a word.”

“I offered to help.”

His fork hits off the porcelain plate and he sighs. “I had a lot to tend to, alright?”

“Chicken, asparagus, and…mashed potatoes?” you say, dragging your fork through the mash – though it’s more lump than it is mash.

“Eat. It.”

You tuck in, ignoring the rattle of the table as you tug your knife back and forth to cut the chicken. Your dad’s face reddens as you chew your way through his meal.

“How was work?”

You throw your mouthful back your throat with a gulp and take a big swig of water. “Good,” you try not to choke out, “Sal let me go early ‘cause it was so quiet.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Bill was in lookin’ for screws or something. Was Anna who helped him–”

Your sentence is cut short by your dad’s ringtone, and he leans back in his chair to the sideboard behind to retrieve it.

“Yep?” he says, and you know who’s on the other end. Yep? means Joel. “Shoot, I forgot to ask her. Well, she’s right here, gimme a sec.”

He covers the bottom of his phone with his palm, and nods toward you.

“You alright to head over to Joel’s tonight ‘n help ‘im with the house for Sarah comin’ home?”

You narrow your eyes, head tilting. “What…?”

“He’s got some banner or something. Joel, what is it you got? Yeah, a banner. Decorations.”

He cocks an eyebrow and looks at you blankly.

You slowly nod, teeth pulling asparagus off your fork. “I can help.”

“She’ll be over in a bit, Joel. Alright. Alright. Bye, now.”

The phone is thrown onto the table with a clatter. Your dad silently resumes eating.

You clear your throat, trying to sound normal over something you feel very not normal about.

“You volunteerin’ me for things again? I thought we talked about this when you told Rita I’d fix up her flowerbeds for her.”

“Oh, we’re bringin’ up the past, are we?”

“Just sayin’,” you mutter, staring down at your lumpy potatoes.

“Wasn’t me, anyways. Joel asked for you specially this afternoon. Told him you were workin’, he said to ask you when you got back. Was his idea.”

Was it, now? That’s…interesting.

“What time’s he wanting me over?”

“Whenever. He’s in all night.”

Suddenly you’re not so hungry for overcooked chicken and not-mashed potatoes anymore.

You swallow down what you can – what’s edible, anyway – and head upstairs to get ready. Trying to act casual enough that your dad won’t sense your eagerness.

Sure, just grabbing my shoes. I just want the house to look nice for Sarah. It’s really her I’m thinking of. Okay, cool, see you, bye.

You throw a pair of sneakers on, check yourself once over in the mirror, and grab your keys.

“That was quick,” your dad remarks when you reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s still powering through his asparagus.

“Just…wanna get it done. For Sarah, y’know.”

He nods. “You lookin’ forward to havin’ her back? Your ol’ pal?”

“Sure. Alright, I’m off. Don’t wait up.”

You practically throw yourself out the front door before he can get another word in, striding over to your car. You’re thankful when the late sun hits you to only be in sweat shorts and a vest top; it may be seven in the evening, but the heat is still stifling.

You pull up in Joel’s drive and climb out, giving the neighborhood a quick scan as you walk over to the front door, trying not to skip. Being handed an excuse to spend a few hours alone with him in an empty house feels like winning the lottery, you’re a little embarrassed to admit.

Joel’s in the living room laying out the decorations he’s bought when you walk in. He’s wearing a denim shirt and white Rangers tee underneath, his regular old jeans on the bottom.

His Hello is comprised of a glance up, a lift of his eyebrows, and a quick scan over your body as you approach. You take a deep breath to dissipate the bubbling feeling in your stomach.

“So, you asked for me specially, huh?”

He nods. “It was either you or your dad, and his ass ain’t as nice to look at as yours.”

“Oh, nice. Glad to be of service. Looks good,” you muse, nodding downward.

The supplies are sprawled out over the coffee table between you both. A huge banner folded up; the beginning of the word Welcome visible. A few packets of multi-colored streamers, balloons, and other gold and silver colored stuff lay around it.

“Probably won’t use it all,” Joel says, sniffing. “Just wanted to give her a big welcome home.”

“All my dad did was pick me up at the airport,” you scoff.

Joel looks up, misses a beat, then says, “Well, your welcome home gift is me.”

“Ha. Good one. C’mon. Let’s get started.”

You task Joel with blowing up balloons while you balance along the back of his couch to tape streamers to the top of the walls. It’s a struggle, though, since Joel keeps tying balloons and hitting them over to you, aiming for your head. He titters to himself when your hair begins to go static.

“That funny to you?” you yell, whacking the fifth balloon out of your face.

“Yeah,” he chuckles back. “You should see your hair, kid.”

By the time the streamers are suspended from the ceiling, dancing in the breeze from the open windows, Joel’s out of breath and sweating.

“Hard fuckin’ work,” he mutters, taking off his shirt. He throws it onto the couch without looking, but still, you suspect he knows exactly what you’ll do.

With a sideward glance to him, you lean back and fish it from the couch, throwing it over yourself. There’s something intoxicating about wearing his clothes, smelling him all over yourself, feeling the warmth from his body. Joel knows it. When he glances over at you to see his shirt hanging off your shoulders, he smirks.

“I think we deserve a break,” he says, eyes lingering.

When he makes off for the kitchen, you throw yourself down on his couch, head falling back against the soft cushions.

He returns with two beers, handing one down to you before laying back beside you. Your shoulders rub against one another as you both take a swig.

“Your dad really didn’t do nothin’? When you got home?”

“I guess you could say he did the barbecue,” you reply, shrugging.

“The neighborhood barbecue, that everyone takes a turn at hostin’? The same one he had you out buyin’ steaks and soda for, two hours before it started?”

“I don’t need a welcome home party. I am the welcome home party.” Your middle finger meets your thumb and you give your wrist a shake in the air, and Joel laughs.

“You deserve one.”

“You wanna throw me one?”

“Can do. If you want.”

You smile in response.

A few moments of silence pass. Comfortable silence. You lie, temple resting against Joel’s shoulder, listening to the trees in his back yard rustle, the birds singing. Peaceful, tranquil. Content.

You like talking with Joel. You like when he’s doing other stuff to you, sure, but you like just being around him. It’s different to spending time with anyone else his age. They all want to ask about your future, your career, are you dating anyone?

Joel just lets you be. Doesn’t push nothin’, doesn’t make you worry. Just wants to make you feel good.

Both mentally and physically, of course.

“Heard any more from Arthur Kennedy?” you ask, more just to hear his voice again than anything. You’re kinda worried he’s falling asleep over there.

Joel takes a deep breath, starts playing with the label on his beer bottle. “Nope,” he says, taking a quick sip, “and don’t wanna.”

“What is it with him, anyways? Why is he the way he is?”

“Just a dirtbag of a man. You get ‘em, y’know? Ain’t none of us really like him. I was pissed at your dad for askin’ him the other day.”

“What does he say at Frank’s? What kinda talk does he give?”

Joel shakes his head like he doesn’t even want to open his mouth. When you nudge him, he clears his throat and then speaks.

“Just all this, ‘I bagged this chick last week’, ‘I was messin’ ‘round with this little beauty’… ‘Tighter ‘n a’ this, ‘Wetter ‘n a’ that. We all know he’s just talkin’ load. The man’s too old to even get an erection anymore.”

You snort. “I bet I could run rings around ‘im, if I ever caught him talking like that.”

Joel half laughs, but it falls apart when his tone gets quietly serious again.

“Just…do me a favor, and stay away from him,” he says in a soft voice. “You’d have me up all night if I thought him ‘n his sleazy hands were anywhere near you.”

He turns his head to lean his jaw on your hair. You think over what he just said. The thought of Joel, awake all night with worry about some sleazeball being within a four-house radius of you makes your stomach flutter.

The idea of him being worried about you. The thought of what he’d do if he ever caught wind Arthur Kennedy had even so much as looked at you twice.

Before your stomach lurches out of your throat with the butterflies soaring around it, you decide to cut the moment short.

“Where’s the banner goin’?” You lean forward, placing your beer on the coffee table and taking hold of the sign.

“Was thinkin’ on that wall,” Joel nods to the wall across from the living room door, “so it’s the first thing she sees when she comes in.”

“Uhuh,” you reply, nodding.

“C’mere,” he says, standing up. “Climb on.”

“Climb on what?”

“My shoulders. I can’t reach all the way up there, what with the TV in the way and all.”

“You’re, like, six feet.”

“It’s a big banner,” he grumbles, kneeling to let you swing your legs over his shoulders. “C’mon. Up.”

“Pfft, okay, old man.”

“Old–? Did you just–? That’s not even funny.”

Joel straightens up and you clutch your stomach with laughter.

“Will you just get on, baby?”

“Alright, alright. Stay still.”

You carefully mount his shoulders and his steady hands wrap around your knees, holding you in place. You wobble as he straightens his legs, lifting you so high your head brushes off the ceiling.

“Alright, be careful. No sudden movements.”

“Right here?” you ask, positioning it.

“Little to the left,” he groans, craning his neck to see. “Right there, that’s it.”

You push the pin through the banner and into the wall, releasing your breath once it’s secured. Joel slowly shuffles over to the other side where you line it up and do the same there.

Once all four corners are in place, he steps back, your legs still wrapped over his neck, and you both admire your teamwork. Joel’s thumbs are gently rubbing your thighs.

“Looks good, huh?”

“Mhm,” you reply. “Anything else to go up?”

“Nah. That’ll do.”

“You just keepin’ me up here for company, then?” you ask, leaning over to look at his face.

He looks back up at you and snorts. “Sorry, darlin’.”

Joel slowly makes over to the couch and bends a little, letting you dismount him to stand on the leather cushion. You’re only slightly taller than him, even standing on his furniture.

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, scanning from your lips down to your chest, curtained by his shirt, then over your stomach and down your legs. You know that look. You’ve seen it enough by now. It means…

“What’s next?” you innocently ask, and his eyes snap back up to your face.

Instead of answering, he steps forward, taking your waist in his hands and pulling you against him. His chin tilts up and you smile as you dip your head, connecting your lips.

You immediately deepen the kiss, feeling Joel’s hunger, and satiating your own, too. Your arms drape over his shoulders, relaxing as his form holds you, allowing you to fold into him.

His arms take a grip of you as he bends at the waist, lowering you both down onto the couch, laughing against each other’s lips. He pulls your thighs apart to lean his hips between yours.

His hands begin exploring your body, feeling from your hips over your breasts, making you moan into the kiss, and settle on the collar of his shirt, pushing the sleeves down your shoulders to remove it. In return, your fingers find the hem of his tee and pull it up over his midriff, hunger growing with each hot second that passes.

He leans back, giving you room to whip the shirt over his head, before his naked torso is back on you. His fingers then dance along the waistband of your shorts, untying them whilst his other hand plays at the hem of your vest.

Your shorts lying loose on your hips, he peels your top off of your body, and your shoulders lift to let it over your head. Joel takes the opportunity while your back is off the couch to unclip your bra, throwing the article to the floor.

“Nice,” you whisper into his mouth, and he chuckles in response.

His bare chest, decorated lightly with dark brown hair, is against yours; his lips move to your neck, biting another mark into the sensitive skin. Your head tilts back and you let out a moan, wanting more, but Joel’s taking his time. He’s making every second count.

You buck your hips against his and he lifts his head, giving you a knowing smirk and obeying your silent request. He begins making his way down, not forgetting to stop off by your tits and run his tongue over your nipples.

Your hands find home in his hair and your back arches some as he caresses the hardened buds, lips forming an O shape to suck on one while tending to the other with his thumb and index finger.

When you whine and your hips lift a second time, he moves across your tummy and toward your lowering shorts.

Eyes glazed with lust, you watch as he yanks them down, your panties the only thing separating you from him now. You hear your shorts hit the floor when he drops them, and places a wet kiss over your clothed cunt.

“Joel,” you moan, head falling back against the cushion. He’s driving you fucking insane.

“Mhm,” he murmurs, kissing the insides of your thighs. “Tell me, baby, tell me what you want.”

You writhe under his touch; he’s so close, and yet so far.

“Your tongue,” you whimper.

“Huh? Can’t hear you over your moanin’, pretty girl.”

“Fuck– Need your fucking tongue,” you say as clearly as you can, still whining some.

“Good girl.”

He uncovers your soaking cunt and tears – literally, tears – your panties off of your body, balling them up in a tight fist. You gasp, both delighted and relieved, watching him discard the ripped fabric by his side.

Neither of you give a fuck. You’re desperate to feel each other, be on each other, be in each other.

He dips his head to your sex, and drags a long stripe up to your clit, collecting your juices on his tongue as he does. His tongue runs between your folds, swirling around, licking and threatening to dip further, before he lifts away again.

You let out a long moan, hands still tugging at his hair, attempting to push his head harder on your pussy. He doesn’t budge.

“Patience, baby,” he’s whispering, lowering his chin again to place his soft lips against your swollen clit.

He knows what he’s fucking doing – teasing you and making you wait like this. He wants it to build, really build, before you cum. He’s not cutting any corners.

His lips center over your bud, tongue tapping against it as he sucks, and brings his fingers up to sift through your folds. Your cunt aches for him; your hips find rhythm against his mouth as you fuck yourself off of him, and he lets you.

Feeling how wet you are, he plunges two long, curved fingers into your pussy, and your back, sticky with sweat, peels off of the couch for the second time.

“Fuck, Joel,” you gasp, feeling the stretch of his fingers inside you.

He hums against you, the vibrations of his deep voice pleasuring you more. He’s loving it as much as you are; tasting you, hearing you, breathing all of it in like it’s fresh air to his lungs.

Your breathing begins to falter, your chest rising and falling, your entire body ignited by his touch. You’re panting his name over and over, whining every time his fingers hit the spongey walls of your cunt.

He’s so fucking good at this.

He removes his fingers and replaces them with his lips, mouth planted firmly against your pussy. You widen your legs and he pushes down on your thighs, keeping them apart to make room for his jaw against your core, tongue licking between your folds again.

“Tongue,” you remind him.

“I hear ya,” he mumbles, and opens his lips.

His wet tongue slips into your cunt like it’s made to be there. You screw your eyes shut, pushing your upper back into the couch to lift your ass to him. His top lip cups around your clit as he eats you out, moans strumming against your sex, tongue exploring your wet hole.

“I’m close,” you whisper, and he removes his lips for two seconds to tell you to “Keep goin’, baby.”

“Doin’ so well for me,” he laps at your juices, “taste so fucking good, beautiful.”

He inserts his fingers again to bring you nearer your climax, and your mind starts to blank. You know what’s coming.

You can’t even form the shape of his name with your mouth as you draw nearer and nearer to your high; all you can focus on is the feeling of his hand fucking you, pumping in and out of your tight pussy, the way his tongue soaks your clit, the rutting of your hips all over his face.

It’s so fucking filthy, and so fucking good.

When Joel’s voice breaks through the fog in your brain, telling you to “Let go, baby, I’m here,” you obey him.

The edges of the room start to bleed white as your body lifts, fingers gripping onto Joel’s hair, hips digging further into the cushion.

It’s only ten o’clock; for all you know, Joel’s neighbors might be out in their backyard enjoying the warm night breeze. Do you care? Fuck no. You cry his name loud enough that the whole street might hear.

He coaxes you through it, drinking in your orgasm, moaning when your walls lock around his fingers and you cover his tongue in your sweet wet.

He slips his soaked fingers from your core and you whine at the loss; Joel makes up for it by gently massaging your aching clit as you come down, spreading your cum all over you.

“That’s it, baby, did so good. That felt good, huh?”

Still coming to, you don’t reply; you feel his weight back on top of yours, his safe arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“’s okay, darlin’,” he coos as your sight starts to return. He peppers your neck with gentle, wet kisses, bringing you back to earth.

Before even you realize it, your fingers are grasping at his jeans, blindly trying to undo the button and zipper. Joel laughs, lifting his hips to give you better access.

You giggle, loosening them and hauling them past his hips, and he sits up to drag them down his legs and shove them off near your shorts.

“What now, sweet girl?”

Your voice is low, serious. Barely above a whisper.

“Fuck me.”

He almost looks taken aback. As if he never thought he’d hear those words escape your lips. Like he’d been pushing you, further and further, expecting you to always hold back, always bounce back from the edge.

And here you are, clutching his arms and hauling him over with you.

It’s where this was headed anyway, wasn’t it? You’ve fucked around with Joel three times now, and none of your clothes have ever made it off your bodies. This is a first.

You’ve never had an empty house plus the time and space to really do it. Always someone about to walk in, or someone waiting for one of you. When, if not right this fucking second?

“I want,” you breathe, fingers now taking hold of the waistband of his black boxers, “you,” you slip them down, “inside me,” exposing the base of his hard cock, “right now.”

Joel’s eyes darken just as his huge cock bounces free from his underwear.

He’s watching your lips breathe out the words like it’s all he ever wanted to hear, all he’s thought about since that first night with your hands on his thighs, looking up at him so innocently.

Just waiting to be fucking ruined by him.

You slur the words again. “F-fuck me.”

“Yeah? ‘s that what you want?”

“Mhm.”

He’s kneeling over you now, helping you tug the underwear down his legs, precum-coated tip of his cock drawing circles on your stomach.

When he’s fully naked, he presses his body against yours, speaking to you between hot, wet kisses.

“You sure you can take it, pretty girl?”

“I’m sure,” you reply, lust taking over any remnants of your orgasm. Just fucking fuck me.

Joel’s hips raise, and he looks down to guide his cock to your hole. You bring your knees up, positioning them just under his biceps.

“Good,” he mumbles under his breath.

You’re so wet that when he runs his shaft through your folds, slicking himself up, his tip kisses the entrance of your cunt, drawing a gasp from you and a growl from Joel. You’re desperate for him to just slide in, make himself at home where he belongs, between your hips.

And when he does, it’s fucking euphoric.

He’s big. You knew this already. But feeling him inside you is different.

He pushes in halfway first, letting you get used to him.

“Okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod; your voice catches in your throat as he falls out of you, just to thrust in again and let his cock dive through your soaked, swollen folds straight into your warm cunt.

He’s so big that when he bottoms out inside you for the first time, your mouth falls open wordlessly, and your brain shuts down for a few minutes. Nothing but the feeling of him slipping in and out of your cunt slowly, fucking you dumb.

When he knows you can take him, he picks up the pace, dragging his hips back and forth against yours, filling you up until his tip kisses the edge of your cervix, and pulling out until he’s between your folds again.

You’re holding onto his shoulders like you’re hanging off a cliff edge. The feeling of his hot skin under your arms is the only thing keeping you grounded right now; the pressure between your legs with each thrust of his huge cock threatening to pull you off the edge of the abyss.

When his voice breathes in your ear between his groans, you snap back to reality. Thighs burning, nails scratching, pussy throbbing reality.

“You okay, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“Let me hear you, pretty girl, tell me how good it feels.”

He’s going faster still, balls smacking against your ass every time he bottoms out, sighs and whimpers passing your lips.

You whine his name, telling him, “Harder,” and he obliges, hips snapping ever stronger. His pubic bone grinds against your clit as he thrusts, the pressure spreading spots of pure bliss across your vision.

You look down to where your bodies connect, mesmerized by the sight of his cock pumping in and out of you. It turns you on even more.

“We look good, huh?” his voice lulls from above, and you look back up to find him watching you.

He dips his head and kisses you, and you start to near your second high.

“Joel,” you mewl, the feeling so good you can’t even form the words to tell him.

He knows, anyway.

“So good, baby,” he’s panting, sweaty forehead leaning against yours, “gonna cum all over me again?”

You nod, eyes screwing shut. He’s fucking you so good you’re barely remembering to breathe.

“Let go, darlin’, let me hear you,” he whispers, and you fold.

Joel bites into the crook of your neck and lets out a loud groan as he feels your pussy clamp around him. He fucks you through it, only slowing for a few seconds to let it wash over you, then picks the pace straight back up when you quieten and your breathing calms.

You’re so fucking overstimulated, but he’s not done, and you know what he wants. You want something, too. Maybe you two could work together.

“Joel?”

“Mhm?” He’s gone quiet, chasing his own high. You hear his breathing stammer when you say it.

“Want you to do it from behind.”

“Beh–” He’s almost gasping for breath, but when he understands what you mean, he wastes no time.

Wordlessly, he loosens his grip on you and pushes himself up, dick slipping out. You moan at the feeling of emptiness as it pulls out of you.

He gives you space to turn over, helping you move further up the couch with steady hands on your hips. When you settle, he lifts your ass up.

“Not gonna last long, baby,” he tells you, and you nod. Your right ear lies flat, sweat sticking you to the leather, hands splayed out above your head gripping the cushions.

You feel him line up again, his thighs against yours. Your breathing jilts as his head pushes in, followed by his shaft, filling you up, deeper and deeper until his balls kiss your clit.

You let a deep moan pass your lips. Joel groans, hips leaving your ass, only to smack into them again as he fucks you even deeper from this position.

He’s stretching you out more than you thought possible, cock spearing into you, tears swelling across your half-shut eyes. The feeling, the pain, too good to ask him to stop, but so overwhelming you can feel every thought, every instinct, every other feeling, leave your body with every thrust.

Joel’s all you know. He’s all you want to know.

Your legs start to give, and he places his rough hands on your waist to hold you up, pumping in and out of you at a punishing pace.

“Joel…” you whine.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m there, too.”

You feel his weight pushing on the back of your thighs and open your eyes to see him leaning over you, hands placed either side of your head. You lace your fingers with his and let him fuck you, totally mindless to everything around you except for the man at your ass, pummeling his dick inside you so deep your cunt is aching.

It pushes you over the edge.

Your walls squeeze his dick, threatening to pull him over with you. Your vision blanks for the third time tonight; what energy you have left is poured into the filthy cry which escapes your lips as Joel’s hard cock splits you open.

“So tight, baby, good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel begins to falter, his thrusts become sloppy, and he pushes your ass off of him so not to finish inside you. You kinda feel disappointed, wishing he’d just stay inside and fill you to the brim with his cum.

Joel gives himself a couple more strokes before you feel his seed coat your ass, warm, dripping down the small of your back and the underside of your thighs.

You moan at the feeling of him spilling all over you, the grunts he lets slip as his orgasm washes over him. You smile dumbly at the thought that you’re the one doing this to him; you’re the one covered in his cum. You’re his, even if it’s only in this moment.

He’s panting behind you. He almost collapses on top of your back, propping himself on his elbows to keep some of his weight off.

He gently leans down and nuzzles his nose against your ear, eliciting a quiet giggle from you.

“You okay?” he breathes.

You nod. “Better than okay.”

“You sore?”

“A little.”

“Baby…” he coos, and pushes himself up.

You sigh as his weight leaves you, and you hear his footsteps pad into the kitchen. You stay put, in part to keep from staining Joel’s couch with…well, Joel, but mostly because you’re too fucked-out to even move. Too fucked to feel your thighs, your back, never mind between your legs.

Joel returns with paper towel, and softly wipes from your back to your thighs, cleaning up his mess. He massages your muscles as he goes, and your eyes shut over with the sweet feeling.

When he’s done, he rolls you over and takes hold of your ankle, pulling you down the leather to his grasp, where he puts his tee over your head and helps you feed your arms through the sleeves. The Rangers logo sits just below your chest.

He pulls his boxers back on, before taking your outstretched arms and scooping you up in his. Your head falls limp in the crook of his neck, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

He carries you, completely dazed and fucked, out of the living room and upstairs. He makes a right at the top, down the dim hallway, past the same closet he went down on you in just two days ago, toward a door at the end. He knocks it open and takes you through.

Even in your half-sleeping state, you know exactly where you are. You’re in Joel’s bedroom.

You’ve been in here before, maybe only a couple times, when Sarah’s needed something or you’ve accompanied your dad to help repair something for Joel, but it feels different now.

It’s dark, the sun almost set on the other side of the house and the streetlights’ glow a burning orange right above Joel’s headboard.

He carries you over to the left side of the bed and lays you down in his soft sheets. He tucks you under the comforter and bends to place a long, tender kiss on top of your head.

You begin to swim in and out of sleep, waking to find him folding your clothes into a neat pile by the bedside, then again to watch him set a glass of water on the nightstand.

Your eyes are glued shut with exhaustion when you feel him lift the duvet behind you and slip in, taking your waist under his forearm and pulling you flush against his frame.

You listen to the faint sound of a cell phone dialing, and then hear his voice; soft, hushed, but still normal Joel.

“Hey, man. Yeah, no, everything’s fine. We were pretty late finishin’ up with these decorations, and then The Shining was on TV, so we stayed up to watch it. She’s pretty exhausted. I let her take Sarah’s room, I hope that’s okay?”

Your dad’s voice is faint down the line as you begin to drop off in Joel’s arms.

“Sure thing, thanks, Joel. You kick her out first thing, you hear? Don’t want her holdin’ you up for gettin’ Sarah.”

When you hear him slide his cell back onto his nightstand, you mumble something incoherent into his arm.

“What, darlin’?” Joel asks, head lifting to hear you better.

“I said, great welcome home party. Thanks.”

His lips press lightly on your shoulder, his breath hot on your skin. Whatever it is he says, you don’t hear it, already long gone to a deep, comfortable sleep.

----------

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wintersoldiersoul · 6 months

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hey dear ❤️ I maybe thought of an imagine with Bucky where you're on a mission in the mountains but due to the weather you need to stay in a little cabin for the night but it's terribly cold. He lights a fire but then he offers you his sweater. You're both getting closer (you have a crush as well on each other), so you kinda forget about the mission and just enjoy the time together as you also share a meaningful kiss?

Keep Me Warm

A/N: I changed up the timeline of this a tiny bit but the main idea is still there! I hope you enjoy!!

The mission had been long and grueling. You and Bucky have spent nearly a week in the mountains trying to take down the enemy. You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. Finally, you had gotten the call that you could come home. You were so excited to be back home in the compound, sleeping in your own comfy bed.

“Excited to go home, Y/N?” Bucky asked.

You rubbed your hands together, trying to keep warm while you waited for the jet. “Can’t wait. I’m looking forward to a nice hot shower and sleeping in my bed.”

He smiled. There was no better thing in the world than him smiling. You tried to keep your crush on him at bay, knowing he’d never feel the same way about you, but damn was it hard. His blue eyes were so mesmerizing and his smile could wake a goddamn army. He was just so perfect.

You smiled back, hoping that he assumed that the blush on your cheeks was from the cold and not from him.

His phone rang and he answered, hoping it would be an update on how far the jet was. “Hey Steve,” Bucky said into the device. “Shit, really? Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” he sighed. “Yup. I’ll check back when we’re there. Bye.” He hung up and looked at you. “Bad news. There’s a bad storm coming and the jet can’t fly. We’re gonna have to stay here another night.”

“Fuckk,” you threw your head back in frustration. You had spent the entire mission hiding in safe house to safe house, all of them in secluded areas where you couldn’t be found. Sometimes if you were lucky, you got to stay in nicer places with actual beds and furniture. But due to the sensitive nature of this mission, that hadn't been the case. The thought of spending another night in one of those places nearly made you cry.

“Good news is that Steve said there’s a cabin not too far. It’s still nothing fancy, but he said its an upgrade to what we’ve been in. We should be safe now that we’ve, you know, taken down the enemy,” he smiled warmly, trying to get you to stay positive.

“Oh, that's good,” you responded. “Let’s go, then.”

The two of you had to trudge through the snow to get there. The walk ended up being nearly 2 hours and you couldn’t feel your body by the time you arrived. The cabin was small, with only one bedroom, a living room, a small kitchen, and a bathroom.

“Shit, you’re shivering,” Bucky noted when you got inside.

“Yeah, how are you not?”

He shrugged. “It’s the serum. I’m still cold, don’t get me wrong, but it makes it a lot harder for me to be cold. Even in freezing weather.”

“Must be n-nice,” you mumbled through chattering teeth. “I get cold so easily. Any time it’s below 50 degrees I can’t f-feel my t-toes.”

“Go take a hot shower, okay? I’ll try to see if there’s any food I can make for us.”

You nodded, going to the bathroom to take a shower. You took your time, rejoicing in the hot water as you washed all of the dirt off of your skin. When you got out, you rummaged through your bag trying to find a sweatshirt but it seemed to have disappeared. “Fuck,” you whispered. You must have left it at the last safe house. You threw on a t-shirt and sweats, still shivering as you made your way into the kitchen.

“Is the heat on?” You asked Bucky.

“I think it’s broken. I was playing around with it but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything.”

You rubbed your hands over your arms, trying to get warm. “Shit, I think I left my sweatshirt at the last safe house.”

“Doll, you’re gonna freeze,” he said sympathetically. “Here.” In one fell-swoop he ripped off the gray cable knit sweater that he had on. “I just put it on when we got here so it’s clean.”

“Buck, I don’t want you to be cold, though,” you protested, despite how cozy the sweater looked.

He swatted a hand. “Remember, I don’t get too cold. Don’t worry about me. You’re gonna turn into an ice block soon.”

You smiled, graciously. “Thanks.” You pulled the sweater over your head, immediately enthralled by his scent. The fabric smelled like musky vanilla and pine, the scent that you had come to associate with him. It smelled like home.

“I was able to find some soup,” he said, holding out a bowl for you. “Maybe it will help warm you up.”

“Thank you, Buck.” You sat down and began to eat.

“Lemme see if I can get a fire started,” he got up and walked over to the fireplace. You watched him as he threw wood into a pile, entranced by his muscles flexing each time he picked up another piece. Between the serum, the metal arm, and the fact that he was just so in shape, he did it all with ease, not even flinching at the weight. How could you not fall for the guy just a little bit?

“You alright over there?” He smirked at you, noticing your eyes on him.

Shit, get it together, Y/N, you thought. “Oh, sorry, just zoning out,” you tried to cover.

Within a few minutes, he had a roaring fire emanating heat throughout the room. But it still wasn’t enough to keep you warm over by the table you were still sitting at.

“Come over here,” he encouraged. “It's nice and warm by the fire.”

You stood up and made your way over to the couch so that you could feel the heat of the fire better. “Oh, that’s nice,” you hummed, feeling the embers warming your body. Bucky crept up beside you sitting down and rubbing his flesh arm over yours.

“You’re fucking freezing. I can feel how cold you are through the sweater,” he whispered. He was so close to you. “Lemme hold you. Warm you up a bit.”

“Um,” you cleared your throat, heart rate speeding up. “O-okay. Yeah, sure.”

He laughed quietly before pulling you so you were laying back against him. “Damn, I feel bad that you’re so cold,” he said, voice holding sympathy and care.

“It’s not your fault, Buck. You’re already doing a lot to try to help.”

The next words he said were something you never thought you’d hear. “Maybe I should never let you go. Just keep holding you like this forever.”

“What?” Did you hear him right? Did he really just say that? He laughed lightly. “Would you like that?”

“Bucky, I-um…” you felt so flustered. Was he just messing with you?

“Come on, Doll,” he smiled. “I don’t know how much more obvious I can make it that I’m kinda in love with you. And I think…” he said, putting his mouth close to your ear. “You might feel the same way about me.”

“Bucky,” you whispered, the feeling of him speaking into your ear sending chills through your body.

“If I’m reading it totally wrong that’s okay. But I can’t hide how I feel anymore, Y/N. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t even talk to you for like 3 months because I got so flustered around you. Then we did start talking and I found out that you were also the most interesting, intelligent, kind person I’ve ever met. So tell me, please. Do you feel the same way?”

Your heart pounded. How was this happening? “Yes, Bucky. I-I feel the same way.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Can you turn around so I can kiss you?”

You quickly flipped your body so you were lying on him, face to face. He pulled your mouth to his, quickly inserting his tongue into your mouth. It was so much better than you had imagined, and you had spent a lot of time fantasizing about kissing him.

“Y/N,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He ran his hand up and down your back as he spoke. “You’re so amazing.”

“I’ve been dreaming about that for a while too, Buck,” you laughed, enjoying his embrace. “You know,” you spoke, voice in a teasing tone. “There’s only one bed in here. We might have to put it to good use.”

Within a second, Bucky picked you up and carried you to the bedroom.

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yanderelionwrites · 6 months

Text

Trick or Treat (Male!Yandere x Reader)

A Halloween one-shot for spooky season 🎃 I didn't want it to be too long so it's a little rushed, but here it is. Enjoy!

Content Warning: yandere, breaking and entering, assault/grabbing, manipulation

Word Count: 1.9k

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come to the party with us? I have a spare costume you could borrow that I know you would look great in!” Your roommate asked, adjusting the faux dog ears that were sitting atop her head as she walked into the kitchen.

You pulled a candy bowl out of the cupboard, dumping the sweet treats you had bought earlier today and filling it up to the brim. You smiled politely at her, but shook your head.

“Nah, I’m good. You know parties aren’t really my thing. Besides, somebody’s gotta watch over the house to make sure it doesn’t get TP’d or egged or whatever.”

“Still, though, I feel bad leaving you here by yourself. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“You sound like such a mom, Mallory,” Your other roommate, Tristan, snarked, coming down the stairs clad in a black cat costume. “(Name)’s been home alone plenty of times before. They’re not a kid.”

“I know, but it’s Halloween! The holiday just makes being alone feel more scary…”

“I’ll be fine, Mal,” You sighed, though you were still grateful for her concern.

“We should probably get going now,” Tristan said, checking his phone. “Come on, Mal, let’s go,” Tristan grabbed ahold of her wrist, dragging her out the front door. “Don’t have too much fun without us, alright?” He winked at you.

“Bye, (Name)! We’ll probably be back around midnight! Call us if you need anything!”

After waving them goodbye, you took a small table and placed the candy bowl on top, leaving it out front with a “take two” sign. You had only bought one bag so if it ran out, it ran out. Locking the door behind you, you made your way upstairs to your bedroom, excitement coursing through your body. You loved your roommates, but there was just something about having the whole house to yourself that made you giddy. A true introvert at heart.

Plopping down on your bed, you turned on your TV, scrolling through streaming sites to decide what to watch. In honor of the holiday, you naturally chose a horror movie, something you’ve never seen before but heard good things about. Cuddling up with your favorite plush, you get comfortable as the film starts, ready to experience the same dread and terror alongside the main characters.

That feeling never came however, because you quickly fell asleep not even 30 minutes into the movie. An hour had gone by by the time you woke up, with the credits rolling and the obnoxious sound of the doorbell going off. You stuffed your face into the blanket you were wrapped up in, hoping and waiting for the visitor to go away. The candy bowl was probably empty and some greedy brat was outside demanding for more.

You were forced to jump out of bed and stomp down the stairs when the ringing only continued, followed by loud knocking. Damn entitled kids. You thought bitterly, undoing the locks and yanking the front door back without even checking who was outside first.

“Look, I don’t got any more candy, so just-” You barked, but stopped mid-sentence when you were met with a tall figure dressed head to toe in black clothes. He had a hood covering his eyes, with a mask obscuring his nose and mouth. He stood eerily still, staying completely silent, only the sound of his heavy breathing being heard. It felt like an eternity before he said, “...Trick or Treat.”

Your eyes widen, backing up a bit and closing the door enough to shield yourself from him. You definitely were not expecting a grown-ass man to be outside your door asking for treats. Chuckling awkwardly, you stutter, “U-Uhm, sorry…we unfortunately ran out of candy…”

“Darn…that’s too bad,” The man’s voice was husky, but muffled by his mask. “I was really looking forward to having something sweet tonight,” He flipped his hood off before pulling his mask down, giving you a hungry look. “You’re wrong, though. The sweetest piece of candy is standing right in front of me. I could just devour you in one bite.“

Slamming the door shut, you quickly locked it again, disgust and slight fear taking over you. The audacity he had to just start flirting with you was downright deplorable, the creepiness of it all causing your hair to stand on end. Maybe this could be a prank? A stupid Halloween scare that would rack up millions of views online, with poor you being one of the unfortunate victims.

Yeah, that’s probably what it was. You wouldn’t expect any less from this neighborhood, after all. Your heart was still pounding as you tried to convince yourself that it was just a joke, however, and you headed into the kitchen to grab something to drink. A glass of water was needed to calm your nerves.

After gulping down the cool liquid, you searched for a snack to chow down on. Hopefully if you eat something while watching your movie, you won’t fall asleep this time. Deciding on microwave popcorn, you popped a bag in and waited for it to be ready.

Only a few seconds went by when you heard tapping on a window. It was coming from the sliding glass door that led out into the backyard. At first, you wanted to believe you were just hearing things, but the next taps were louder and incessant. The last thing you wanted to do was investigate, having had enough fright for one night, so you stayed where you were.

Good thing you did, because immediately after the tapping stopped, came a loud crash. You screamed, watching in horror as you witnessed a brick fly through the glass door, shattering it to pieces. Reflexively, you quickly grabbed a knife from the knife block, just in time to see the man from before casually stalking into your home. He turned to you, an eerie grin on his face as he approached. You pointed your weapon towards him, making sure he kept his distance.

“Stay the hell away! The fuck’s your problem, why are you breaking into my house?!” You shouted, putting on your nastiest glare.

He cocked his head to the side, as if he couldn’t understand why you were angry. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m here for my candy,” He said matter-of-factly. Smirking, he curled his pointer finger at you. “So put that silly thing down and c’mere.”

“You’re insane! Get the fuck out of my house!”

“So rude,” The man huffed, pouting like a child as if this was all a game to him. “Well, if you’re not going to give me my treat, I’ll just have to give you a trick. That’s how this works, hm?”

Before you could even process his words, he lunged forward, twisting the knife out of your hands with ease. He was stronger than he looked, and within a matter of seconds, he had you pinned against the counter. You winced as your stomach dug into the marble surface, and you desperately tried to move your hands from out underneath his iron grip. They wouldn’t budge.

“Don’t struggle too hard, darling. It’ll make this easier for the both of us,” The man breathed into your ear. Chuckling, he added, “You’re cute when you’re scared, you know. God, I can’t wait to taste you.”

Your fear only worsened at that, struggling even harder even though it was useless. “W-Why are you doing this? Who even are you?” Your voice wobbled as tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“Who I am doesn’t matter right now. And maybe you’ll find out why this is happening to you if you do some digging later. A little detective work, if you will.”

What the hell does that mean? You couldn’t dwell on it for very long, though, because the man was pressing into you even closer now. You squealed when he dragged his tongue along the shell of your ear, anger getting ready to burst when he only laughed at your reaction.

“Get off me, creep!” You snarled, and you actually managed to jerk your arm back and elbow him in the stomach. Hissing, his grip loosened, allowing you to push him off. He stumbled back, and while he was vulnerable, you promptly kicked him in the groin. The intruder yelped in pain as he fell to the floor. You took this chance to run, practically throwing yourself at the front door and fumbling with the locks so you could get the hell out of there.

“Yeah, you better run…while you still can…” The man groaned, but his threats hardly fazed you considering he was just a pathetic heap on the ground now.

Flinging open the door, you sprinted out of the house, planning to find safety with one of your neighbors. You couldn’t get far, however, as you ran into someone quite familiar.

“Tristan?” You panted, hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath while looking up at your worried roommate.

“(Name)? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Tristan asked, putting a hand on your shoulder to try and comfort you. “What are you doing out here?”

You sucked in a few more breaths before explaining the situation to him. “There…someone….some guy broke into the house… He was after me…he tried…tried…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, it was too terrifying to relive.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now,” Tristan hushed you, pulling you into a surprising embrace. It was something you never expected from him, but you returned the gesture anyway.

“He’s still in the house, Tristan… We need to call the cops and get away from here,” You pulled away from the hug, eyes now focused back on the house. “I left my phone in my room, so can you call them?”

“Yeah, I will,” He nodded, whipping out his phone to start dialing. “Let’s go back to my car and stay there until they arrive, okay?”

The two of you made yourselves comfortable in the warm car, and you listened intently as Tristan called 911. After he hung up, he told you that they were on their way and would be there as soon as possible. It was able to calm your beating heart only a little bit. There was a beat of silence between you two before you decided to speak up.

“So where’s Mallory? Is she still at the party?”

Without missing a beat, Tristan said, “Yeah, she is. I just had to come back cuz I forgot something. The last thing I expected was to see you in such a panic, though. Good thing I got here when I did.”

“Yeah… I wasn’t sure what neighbor would answer the door to help me, so I’m glad I ran into you,” You confessed.

Tristan laid a comforting hand over yours and smiled. “I’m just happy you’re not hurt. That guy’s gonna pay for what he did.”

You gave him a weak smile in return, before leaning into his touch. Seeing Tristan being so soft was new, but you found it sweet and appreciated how hard he was trying to soothe you. You closed your eyes as he wrapped an arm around you, glad that you were finally away from that creepy intruder.

Tristan let you rest, pulling out his phone when it buzzed with a text alert. Opening the message, it read:

I’m out of the house now. Sorry I couldn’t keep em pinned for longer, I know u wanted to look like the hero or some shit. Though it looks like it still worked out in the end

Trying to hide his smile, Tristan replied:

Thanks man. I’ll send the rest of your payment over in a bit, after the cops leave and things settle down.

Stuffing his phone away, he squeezed your arm gently, smirking at the way you moved in closer. You were so easy to scare.

Right into his arms.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere oneshot #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere writing #yandere imagines #halloween

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yourmomwhitediamond · 1 month

Note

Can I request Rosie x female reader who owns a cannibal meat pie shop close to the emporium? Just them being a cute couple after a long work day. Maybe Y/N brings over some special meat pies she made just for her lovely girlfriend?

Here’s the first one! I am rusty with my writing, so you’ll have to excuse any mistakes. I hope this is good enough! Enjoy!! :D

You were packing everything up for closing time, as per usual. Double checking every cabinet door was shut and locked before heading into the back of your store to gather all that you had brought with you and what you planned to bring home. The main item of concern was a pie you had specially made for your girlfriend and wanted to get home to her while it was still warm. Seconds before you went to flip the final switch the store's bell rang out and you groaned. Every day, at this exact time, the same person would come in at the last second. Susan. You inhaled and exhaled deeply, putting on your best smile as you stepped back out into the front.

"Susan," You greeted in a sickly sweet voice, already sliding open the panel to where her regular order was displayed, "What can I get for you?"

"The same as always, please" Please? That's a first. You didn't comment on it and simply nodded, going on to bring out the tray. If you took too long she'd get snappy, so there was no time for any chitchat, not like you wanted to converse with her today. It had been a hectic day, the time of the week where you’d made a fresh batch of human pies, and Susan was prolonging it.

Swiftly, you wrapped up Susan's order, not wanting to waste a minute longer. You cursed yourself for not doing this early with the knowledge that she'd come along. When you placed it on the counter, ready to take Susan's payment, you checked the time. If she was quick at getting her money out then you'd only be five minutes late. That didn't happen. Because Susan just had to go and take her sweet time getting every penny out of her purse. You felt like reaching over the counter to strangle her, but kept a smile on your face, nevertheless.

When it had been paid for you bid her goodbye, "Bye Susan, I hope you have a lovely evening"

You got the same old, "You too" from her. And the second the door closed you scrambled to gather your things, praying for no further interruptions. With the lights turned off, a bag over your shoulder and the door locked securely, you hurried home.

The moment you walked into your home you were greeted with Rosie's welcoming smile that you returned with an apologetic one.

"I'm so sorry I'm late-"

"Susan?" She interrupted your apology with an amused smirk.

You let out a short chuckle and a curt nod. You were so thankful to have such an empathetic partner such as her. She understood the struggles of dealing with Susan. You went over and pressed a kiss on either of her cheeks followed by a peck on the lips.

"She's insufferable" You whispered.

Rosie cupped your face and brought you into a kiss, mumbling against your lips, "I know, darling"

Smiling blissfully, you parted but kept your forehead up against Rosie's with your eyes closed. She sighed contently whilst snaking her arms around your waist. Her hands bumped into your bag which caused her to look down with an inquisitive expression.

"What's in the bag?" Her question brought you out of your enraptured state. Your eyes snapped open and you stepped back from the embrace.

"I made you a little something," You told her as you reached into your bag. A proud smile adorned your face with the pie you'd baked held out in front of you.

"Oh sweetie," Rosie took the pie and grinned widely, taking in the intricate patterns on the pastry, "I thought I smelt something good"

"It's got all of your favourite meats in; pinky fingers, eyeballs with some brain, and a few other little things. It will need warming up aswell"

"It'll be perfect, you know me all too well" She placed a kiss on your head before walking off to the dining table. You followed suit, noticing the teapot and cups set in your places. It made your smile grow further knowing that she'd patiently been awaiting your return, having prepared you both the hot beverages to drink over some good gossip, as always.

"Pray tell what these 'few other little things' are?"

"I'm not telling" She feigned an offended gasp at your response.

Laughing faintly, you approached her from behind and wrapped your arms around her waist. With your chin resting on her shoulder, you whispered, "You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

"I suppose I will”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin hotel rosie x reader #hazbin rosie x reader #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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in1-nutshell · 1 month

Note

Hey, love your work, and my sister loves it a lot as well, so this request is manly for her. Would you be open to doing a opposite personality buddy to wheeljack, like buddy is thier little sibling or something, or thier human buddy, idk, dont do this kinda thing. Anyway, sorry for all the writing, keep up the great work.

Your and your sister's request has been fulfilled!

Hope you enjoy!

Wheeljack's younger sibling with the opposite personality

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Mention of injury but nothing graphic, Cybertronain reader

TFP

One of the greater mysteries of the universe.

How were Buddy and Wheeljack related.

Buddy was much more of a rule follower as Wheeljack broke said rules.

Now this didn’t mean that Buddy followed the rules religiously, even they knew there were times where rules did not have a reach. Same went for Wheeljack.

As a scientist, he knew that there were certain things that had to make sense to make other things make sense.

Wheeljack holding a grenade in one servo and some engex in the other.

“We can—”--Wheeljack

Buddy taking the engex and grenade out of his servos.

“But should we…”--Buddy

“Buddy, I’m a scientist. I have questions and I’m going to get answers.”--Wheeljack

“And I’m the only one of us with most common sense, and I say no.”--Buddy

“To bad, I’m the oldest.”--Wheeljack

“Hard to tell some days.”--Buddy

“What was that?”--Wheeljack

“Nothing!”--Buddy

Another difference drawn between the two was their line of work.

Buddy worked closely with the Elite Guard, basically Ultra Magnus’s second in command.

Wheeljack was a Wrecker.

Now Buddy was on relatively good terms with most of the Wrecker’s thanks to being related to Wheeljack.

Bulkhead earned a sibling when they met.

Wheeljack placing a servo on Buddy’s shoulder.

“And this is Bulkhead. Bulkhead meet my little—”--Wheeljack

Buddy jabs him in the gut causing him too nearly double over.

They offer Bulkhead their servo to shake.

“I’m Buddy, Second in Command of Commander Ultra Magnus, and… Wheeljack’s younger sibling.”--Buddy

Bulkhead blinks before shaking their servo.

“Second in Command of Ultra Magnus, huh? You got your work cut out for ya.”--Bulkhead

“Magnus isn’t all bad. He’s a nice bot once you get to know him.”--Buddy

Wheeljack snorts.

“Yeah right, and Screamer is going to create an army of himself.”--Wheeljack

Buddy knew that the two mechs weren’t on the best terms, especially when Wheeljack decided to antagonize their Commander.

Buddy often tries to play the mediator between the two when Ultra Magnus becomes the Wrecker’s leader.

Buddy did as much as they could to keep Wheeljack on the team.

To say they were a bit spark broken that he left them was an understatement.

Magnus standing by the door seeing Buddy’s back trying to organize the ammunition rounds for the 5th time today.

He walks over and puts a servo on their shoulder.

Buddy freezes but knows who it is.

“…I just can’t believe he would leave… just like that… without even saying good-bye… Sorry you have to see this sir.”--Buddy

“Buddy… if you need some time to collect your thoughts, your more than welcome to do so.”--Magnus

Buddy shakes their helm taking in a shaky vent.

“I’ll be fine Commander.”--Buddy

“Very well then… I will be in the main room if you need me.”--Magnus

Magnus begins to walk away.

“Magnus—I mean—Ultra Magnus sir.”--Buddy

Magnus stops and looks at Buddy.

“Thank you for checking in Commander… it means a lot.”--Buddy

“…You’re welcome… and you have clearance to call me Magnus.”--Magnus

Buddy perks up a bit.

“But in closed quarters.”--Magnus

Buddy smiles a bit.

“I won’t ruin your reputation Magnus! Thanks!”--Buddy

Buddy stood by their Commander’s side as the war seemed to have grown longer without Wheeljack by their side.

Soon Magnus sent them on a shuttle to do some atmospheric patrolling, they got spotted by the Decepticon lookouts.

The seekers managed to follow them out into space before they started firing their long-range weapons on the shuttle.

Buddy hit their helm at one point trying to comm in Ultra Magnus.

It was a miracle that they managed to get into an escape pod and get shot out before the shuttle exploded.

Magnus was on the other line getting his shuttle ready to get his second in command when the line went dead, and all signatures went dead.

After a couple of days of searching for any remains, Buddy’s name was listed on the KIA list.

Wheeljack got noticed from the final list before Cybertron went dark.

In space they say that no one can hear you scream, tell that to Wheeljack when he nearly made himself deaf from the screaming.

The pod eventually lands on Earth but gets stuck and remains closed for a while in the woods.

Time skip after Magnus comes to Earth…

Miko was running from the Insecticons.

Somehow one of the cons managed to take the Apex Armor from her leaving her at the mercy of the Insecticons while the rest of the Wrecker’s tried to fend them off.

Of course, a couple strays followed her into the woods.

One of the Insecticons accidentally stumbled on the abandoned pod activating its hatch.

The shaking somehow managed to get Buddy out of stasis and woke up out of their pod.

The first thing Buddy saw was a small organic creature cornered by those blasted Insecticons.

“HEY UGLIES!”--Buddy

Miko and the Insecticons look over to see Buddy aiming their blaster at them.

Buddy doesn’t hesitate and blasts them in the face.

Miko runs out of the way as the Insecticons go down.

She looks up at her savior and eyes fall on the Autobot symbol.

“You’re an Autobot!”--Miko

Buddy raises their optic.

“Yes? How do you know that…”--Buddy

“I’m Miko, I’m actually a Wrecker myself.”--Miko

“Buddy—Wait what?”--Buddy

“You’re name is Buddy?”--Miko

“That’s not important right not Miko.”--Buddy

“I feel like it should be.”--Miko

BANG!

SSSSHHHHRRRRIIIIEEEEEKKKKKK!

“Sweet Solus Prime what was that?!”--Buddy

Miko goes up to Buddy and tries to move them to the direction.

“That’s Predaking and he is going to tear them apart if we don’t get there in time!”--Miko

“Woah, woah, woah. Predaking? Them? Kid I need a little bit more information.”--Buddy

Miko throws her arms in the air.

“Big bad dragon bot is going to Tear Magnus, Bulk—”--Miko

Buddy’s optics widen.

“Magnus? Like Ultra Magnus? And Bulkhead?”--Buddy

“Yeah and—WOAH!”--Miko

Buddy grabs Miko and begins running towards the noise.

“You know them?!”--Miko

“Know them? That’s my team!”--Buddy

Miko did her best to give directions till they came to the edge of the wood.

A giant Predacon was fighting the Wreckers.

Buddy put Miko down behind some rocks and activated her blaster and shield.

This was going to be messy.

Buddy immediately charged in, jumping on a rock, and slamming Predaking in the face.

Buddy continued to shoot their blaster at the Predacon while the others momentarily hesitated before going back to the fight.

Magnus knew from the slam that it had to be his second in command.

No one did a shield slam like they did.

Bulkhead wasn’t sure who this bot was yet, but they were helping in the fight which was good enough for him.

Wheeljack focused more on the fight than the strangely familiar looking color scheme.

Finally, Predaking was called back to the Nemesis and left the Wrecker’s.

Buddy panted a bit.

They just woke up and had to dispose of two Insecticons and battle a beast… they needed a break not blaster to the face.

Miko starts running towards the group.

“THAT WAS AWESOME!”--Miko

Bulkhead looks over at Miko in relief.

Buddy turns to Ultra Magnus, straightens out and salutes.

“Ultra Magnus sir… Sorry I was a little late on patrol…”--Buddy

Magnus slips out a rare smile and places a servo on their shoulder.

“At ease soldier. Its good to hear from you Buddy.”--Magnus

“Buddy!”--Bulkhead

Buddy gets picked up from the back by Bulkhead.

Buddy laughs a bit while patting his arm a bit.

“At ease Bulkhead. I’m fine.”--Buddy

“Fine? Last we heard you name was on the list… Hey Jackie, aren’t you going to say anything?”--Bulkhead

Buddy freezes a bit looking at Wheeljack in front of them.

They both just look at each other.

One with more shock and the other with a more neutral face.

Buddy straightens their back struts more.

“Wheeljack… it looks like you’re in good health.”--Buddy

Wheeljack snaps out of it and begins running to Buddy.

Buddy instinctively slams him with their shield knocking him back a few feet away.

“OW! What was that for?”--Wheeljack

Buddy narrows their optics at him coldly.

“As instinctual as that was, I don’t regret it. You deserve more for what you put me through.”--Buddy

“Hey, Buddy, what’s your deal with Wheeljack!”—Miko

Bulkhead gently grabs Miko close to his chassis.

“Umm… Miko I think you better leave them to it…”--Bulkhead

Buddy walks over to Magnus.

“Sir. Permission to resume my position?”--Buddy

“We will discuss it with Prime.”--Magnus

“Optimus is here. I missed so much…”--Buddy

Magnus and Buddy begin walking to the groundbrigde, Wheeljack sulking right behind them and Bulkhead holding Miko.

“Is Buddy, like, his ex or something?”--Miko

“No, Buddy’s Wheeljack’s younger sibling and Magnus’s Second in Command. They had a bit of a falling out from what I heard around before Jackie left.”--Bulkhead

“Buddy…and Wheeljack… are related?”--Miko

Bulkhead shakes his helm a bit.

“Don’t try to connect the dots on this one. No one knows how their related.”--Bulkhead

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp x platonic reader #tfp wheeljack #tfp wheeljack x platonic reader

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

Text

A FRESH START [20]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: description of injuries, language, spoilers for S3 The Mandalorian, mentions of death experiences, anxiety, PTSD references

Word Count: 5,066

Updates every Thursday

#20: SHORT STICK BEARS HIS WRATH

"you can't heal if you pretend you're not hurt." -aliza grace

Grogu had a habit of making friends wherever he went. So, it didn’t surprise Din to see that a bulk of Ari’s crew were gushing over his son and offering him different things to play with. After parking the N1 and walking to the address Ari messaged him, what looked like an old fighting gym, he entered to see a small group of people surrounding Grogu who stood on the table and babbled. They listened intently, cooed back to him, and offered him a variety of objects to either eat or play with.

Din’s eyes landed on Ari who was sitting in a desk chair, feet kicked up and ankles crossed, while frowning at the sight. When her gaze drifted toward him she blew out an annoyed breath of air. “Finally. Can you please take your son and go? It seems while he’s around my crew is,” Ari turned to yell out the next words at the people surrounding Grogu, “Incapable of doing their kriffing jobs!”

“The stressors of running a criminal empire.” Din snorted.

“Aw, you think my little show is an empire?” Ari grinned impishly. “That’s cute. I appreciate it, but I don’t think I’ve reached that level of notoriety yet.”

“Yeah, well, I have faith in you.”

Din knew her main skill set was in smuggling. He assumed that’s what she was still doing, just branching out and roping others in. Still, Din wasn’t too worried about breaking up her party or shining a spotlight down on her. Of all the evil Din had seen in the galaxy, Ari was harmless. Well, mostly harmless.

“Hey boss, can we keep it?” A large man turned and pointed to Grogu who had his hands up in the air as he babbled about a story.

“Him, you idiot.” Ari corrected. “It’s Mando’s son.”

“Oh, sorry.” The man replied. “Can we keep him?”

“See what I mean? Useless.” Ari scoffed. Din called out for Grogu who took the time to gather up all the snacks being offered to him then jumped into his pram to drift over. Ari crossed her arms and snapped for the others to get back to their jobs. They gradually drifted away. She looked at him. “So? How’s the doc?”

Din tilted his head. “Left him thirty minutes outside the city to crawl back.”

“That all?”

“I may have…” Din chose his words carefully. “Stacked the odds against him.” Ari chuckled in amusement and he nodded. “I need you to keep an eye on that for me.”

“How so?”

“Make sure there’s a corpse, and if there isn’t,” Din shrugged nonchalantly, “Make one.”

The request rolled off his tongue as if he were in Nevarro going to his neighbor’s house to ask for some sugar. Din saw no issue in his request. If he wasn’t on such a time crunch in his eagerness to return to you then he’d stick around and double check for himself.

Ari nodded. “Alright. I’m counting that as two favors now though. So, you owe me.” Din dragged his helmeted gaze to look at her and raised an eyebrow in skepticism as if she’d be able to see. Ari read the tone enough to snicker. “Fine. Fine. We’re even then.”

“Deal.”

“So,” Ari whistled, “If you and your ‘not wife’ ever tie the knot will I get invited to the wedding? Do Mandalorians have weddings?”

“Stop talking.” Din shook his head and turned to leave. He chuckled under his breath. Grogu followed after him⏤ the child’s cheeks full of some local dessert. Great, now he’d be bouncing around the cockpit of the N1 for Maker knows how long.

Ari called a good-bye after him as he left. “Nice seeing you too, Mando! Safe travels!”

Nima told you not to freak out. Her exact words had been, ‘Alright, everything is okay and you are safe and it’s all going to be fine but you need to know this’. Your first horrific thought was that the news would somehow involve your boys. It had been a knee jerk fear that filled your entire soul with dread. Then Nima followed it up with, ‘Kurt’s trial was put on hold’.

And, as wild as it was, you felt relief. That had been your initial reaction. Before Nevarro, hearing those words would have made you immediately throw up. But in this situation, all you could think was how grateful you were that the bad news didn’t involve Din or Grogu.

“I’m sorry.” Nima murmured and you could see how devastated she was to share this news with you. She was the kind of person who felt every emotion she had so deeply. It’s why she was so lively and bubbly as her day to day happiness shined through. However, in moments like this, it broke your heart to see her so empathetic to your own pain. “I went back and forth on telling you, but you made me swear to update you on any news I thought was important and this seemed important. Plus, I didn’t want you to hear on accident from somewhere else or⏤”

“Nima.” You reached out to squeeze her arm and gave her a smile. “It’s okay. Thank you for telling me.” The longer the news lingered in your mind the more it began to unravel your sense of peace. “What happened? Do we know why?”

She shook her head. “They won’t report it yet. Just that it’s delayed.”

Could trials be delayed right in the middle of it? You didn’t know a lot about law or the system surrounding it. Nima was rambling about something or another, trying to bring you comfort, but your thoughts drifted away. You wished Din were here. That wasn’t a surprising thought. Every single day since they left, multiple times a day really, you’d see something or think of something that made you crave their presence more than the baseline. Just yesterday you bought a bag of Grogu’s favorite blue cookies from the sandwich shop just for the hell of it.

You heard your name, mumbled in concern, and your focus snapped back to Nima who was staring at you as if she was waiting for you to crumble. Slowly, you could feel the edges of your nerves beginning to fray, but that’s what work was for right? Distract you from all those dangerous thoughts and fears.

“Seriously. I am okay.” You reassured her once more. “This stays between us, right?”

“Of course.”

Your day carried on as if the news hadn't been shared with you. It would be the one day you wanted to keep busy that all of Nevarro decided to be the picture perfect definition of health. It was in part due to the droid being repaired which took off a lot of lower level urgent cases rather than emergent and it even saw some people with active conditions routinely. That would be it's primary purpose until the new guy that Karga hired eventually got out here.

When you went home for the night, you had only been moving around the kitchen for a few minutes, getting dinner ready, when your com rang for a holocall. You set your armband on the island counter to stand and answer. Grogu’s face immediately filled the entire screen with a loud ‘Ma!’ which pulled a laugh out of you. You needed that.

“Grogu, share.” Din replied though you could only barely see him behind Grogu’s face.

“No.” Grogu replied simply before he began to babble about his day. He was getting better at expressing himself every day and you were picking up on words like ‘new friends’, ‘more food’, and even something that sounded like he was trying to tell you there was someone he didn’t like. Din sighed loudly, but you could hear the amusement in his tone.

“Uh huh.” You nodded your head, giving the little green boy your full attention, “Tell Ma all about it, baby.” It wasn’t until a solid five to ten minutes later that Grogu was appeased with the amount of attention from you that he was willing to share with his father. He wiggled out of the camera’s space so you could actually see Din, and the boy waved with a quick ‘Love Ma!’. You actually felt your heart tighten in your chest. “Love you too, baby.”

Grogu crawled away, probably to stir up trouble where he could find it on the small ship, and you bit back tears. The longer you sat with the news about Kurt the more you felt wired and anxious. Getting to talk to Grogu and see the cheerful boy made a world of difference.

“Mama’s boy.” You heard Din mutter with a chuckle while watching Grogu crawl away to wherever he went. His gaze quickly focused back on you and he let out a soft sigh. “Ner kar’ta. How was your day?”

“It was fine.” You leaned against the counter.

For the next half hour, you and Din talked about anything and everything. He told you about how the rest of his trip on that Outer Rim planet went, and he told you he dealt with Daelar. Din didn’t give you details on the specific, but you found that you didn’t really need them. You didn’t really care. Then you told him about your day, but gradually the two of you got off topic and trailed on about other things. Din was speaking, you could hear the sound of his comforting voice, but you found yourself accidentally zoning out. Your mind not falling into a specific thought, but just drifting away. It wasn’t until the third time that Din called out to you that you realized he had been doing so in the first place.

“Hm? Sorry.” You shook your head.

Even through a holocall, halfway across the galaxy, you could see the worry that Din wore. He had shifted forward in his seat, elbows on his knees, and there was a tension in his shoulders. If that didn’t give him away then the tilt in his head and the tone of his voice did. “What’s wrong? You’re troubled.” He didn’t ask if you were troubled. He just knew you were. “Tell me. Are you okay?”

“I am. I promise.” You replied. The last thing you wanted to do was worry him. Knowing Din, if you told him about Kurt he would do something drastic like immediately come back to Nevarro. Which, on one hand, was tempting, but it would just mean he’d need to leave again. Plus, you knew how important this mission was to him. You were not going to intercede with your own issues and drama. So, you decided on a lie of omission. “This afternoon there had been a patient with a chronic illness I didn’t remember much of. He was also Rodian and their anatomy is a blur to me. So, it was a lot of research and just working on the fly and I guess my brain just won’t let it go. I’m second guessing myself.”

Din’s entire body relaxed, but he stayed leaned over so he was closer to the camera⏤ closer to you. “Don’t. You’re incredible at what you do and immensely clever when you need to think on the spot.” You felt your cheeks warm at his blatant complements. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re the greatest physician in the galaxy.”

You snorted. “Right. And that’s your totally unbiased opinion.” Din nodded. “All that medical knowledge you have makes you an expert in that decision.”

“I have twenty plus years of working a cautery, thank you.” Din replied with a chuckle.

“Yes. Obviously, so qualified.”

“Fine.” Din’s voice took a teasing edge. “You’re the best physician in all of Nevarro. Is that better?”

You let out a loud laugh and just as it had eased your anxious heart with Grogu, Din settled your soul as well. Din was immensely proud of himself. You could see the smug air about him even through the holocall. When your laughter died down, you rested your chin on your hand to hold up your head.

“I miss you.” You mumbled.

Din sighed. “I miss you too, ner kar’ta. But it won’t be much longer.” You perked up. “I am stopping to speak to an…old friend.” The way he said the words made you doubt that this person was an actual friend⏤ or that the relationship was tumultuous at best. “Then on to Mandalore.”

A soft smile filled your features at the news.

“Ma! Ma!” Grogu was yelling again as he tried to get into the picture.

Din scooped the boy up to set him on his laugh and playfully scolded. “You had your turn, ad’ika. It’s my turn with Ma.”

“No. Me.” Grogu argued.

You watched in amusement as Din continued to tease Grogu into a silly argument on who got to have your attention. Maker, you needed them back soon.

Ever since Nima shared the news about Kurt, nightmares plagued you. It was an odd mix of past and future. Some nights Kurt would be carving into you, telling you that you didn’t deserve to live, and other nights you’d have to watch helplessly as he hurt Din and Grogu.

You preferred the nights where Kurt made you bleed.

That added to the fact that while on Mandalore Din was not going to be able to call you due to interference really distracted you. Sleep deprived and anxiety riddled while working in a clinic with medical tools was not the ideal combination. The bacta tank needed refreshing in case of emergencies and during a quiet moment in the office you had told Aayla you planned to get it done. It was dirty work, cleaning the bacta filters, but you didn’t mind it. You hoped forward motion, keeping yourself busy, would keep you awake and sane.

So, when your hand slipped on the mechanism, causing the thick filter door to slam shut on your hand, it had been entirely your own fault.

"Fuck!" You screamed in agony as you felt the bones in your fingers snap. Blinded by the panic, your natural instinct was to try to pull your hand out, but the door was closed too tight for it to budge. All it did was send sharp, lightning strikes of pain shooting up your arm.

Aayla was by your side in an instant and she was shouting commands or reassurances at you, but your mind was in a fog. Maybe it was the pain or the exhaustion, but your body slumped forward onto the bacta tank as your vision went black.

It came back seconds later, but you didn’t feel the same. Rather than pain, you felt the telltale sign of something running through your veins to bring you relief. You were also now lying on a cot rather than standing over the bacta tank.

“What are we supposed to do when the doctor needs a doctor?” Mayfeld scoffed. You couldn't see him from where you laid, but his voice was easily recognizable. So was Vanth’s who replied.

“Use the droid.”

“The droid? That’s your solution? Let the kriffing droid work on the woman Mando is head over heels for?” Mayfeld cried. “He’s better about the damn things, but if he heard about this he’d come back to Nevarro just to kill us. Then he’d somehow save our asses from the brink of death just so he can kill us again.”

You groaned and all your words came out groggily, “Stop talking. Both of you.” There was the sound of steps and suddenly it was Vanth’s face in your vision grinning down at you. “Why are you in here again?”

“Well, because the doc went and got her hand jammed up in some machinery.” Vanth replied. His words reminded you of the injury and you lifted your left hand to see a splint wrapped around your last three fingers. The ring finger was the worst, but all three were discolored and swollen. Vanth’s teasing tone switched to sincerity. “How’re you feeling, little lady?”

“Drugged.” You complained and rubbed your face with your good hand. The lack of pain was nice, but you hated how certain strong medications could make you feel.

“Yeah,” Mayfeld chimed, “That’s the e-bacta shot we gave you.”

“E-bacta??” You scoffed. “Where the hell did you get the e-bacta and why did you bring it into my clinic? That shit is illegal for a reason.” This version of bacta was so potent and strong that it was only one step down from spice, really. Addictive as hell and hard to keep from degrading. “Why did you do that?”

Vanth pointed at your broken hand. “Because that looks kriffing miserable. We’d put you in the tank altogether just to be cautious but we had to break the damn thing to get you unlodged from it.”

“Shit.” You forced yourself to sit up and the room spun. Both men reached out to steady you. “The tank is broken??”

Mayfeld snorted. “Yeah, and so is your hand. Focus on that instead.”

You rubbed your face in a poor attempt to gain some clarity. “Please tell me no one told Mando.”

Maybe he’d still be on Mandalore and there’d be no service for someone to tell him you got hurt. This was just like a few days ago when you learned about Kurt. You couldn’t make Din worry. He needed to focus on his own task and not be thinking about you.

“Told Mando?” Mayfeld cried. “Nobody wants to make the call and tell the indestructible tin can that we let his girl get hurt.”

Vanth shrugged. “We were gonna draw straws later. Us, Karga, Nima, Peli. Short stick has to bear his wrath.” He grinned at you. “But now that you’re up and talking, little lady, looks like we don’t need to do that.”

Mayfeld nodded and pointed at the man. “Yeah, good point. She should tell him. He won’t kill her.”

“Either stop talking or give me more e-bacta.” You grumbled.

Ignoring the well meaning but overbearing men, you cradled your broken hand in your lap. The splint on your hand was decent. You’d need something more permanent, but for a patch job it was solid. The sound of doors sliding open made you glance up to see Aayla fluttering in. She put her hands on her hips with a solid attempt of intimidation.

“I already chased out Nima. Now you two, as well?”

The men glanced at you and you tilted your head and added. “Go. Don’t tell Mando.” As they neared the door you called out one last time. “And…thanks, guys.”

You did appreciate them and how much they cared. Even if some of that caring just came from a healthy fear of Din. Not that you thought Din would actually hurt either man. They were friends and this had very clearly been your fault.

“Did you do this?” You pointed to your hand and Aayla nodded with a sheepish grin. “It’s good. It’s really good, Aayla.” The woman beamed at your praise and you chuckled. “Did you get any scans yet?”

“Yes. We did.” She brought over a datapad and opened up the program that held all the imaging. You took it from her to look over your own scans and winced. Dank farrik. Hairline fractures on your pinky and middle finger, and an actual break in your ring finger. No wonder you blacked out. “Do we need to get you to a facility? Does your finger need surgical correction?”

You praised her line of thought then shook her head. “The fracture will heal itself once splinted. In order to test the tendons I need the swelling to go down just a bit so I can try moving my finger.”

Aayla stepped away and then returned with a cream and some ice. She got you situated on the cot and lifted the bed so you could lay back without being entirely flat. She was going to be a good doctor one day. After she went through school and all that. You leaned your head against the pillow and shut your eyes. It would be best for you to get some solid shut eye while the e-bacta was in your system.

Since reaching Mandalore, everything had happened fast. Back to back to back, Din had what should have been considered one of the worst days of his life. Nearly dying three times qualified as a terrible day. However, Din was not dead. More than just not dead, he was redeemed.

Din Djarin was no longer an Apostate.

He was Mandalorian once more.

That alone could make this a wonderful day, but the knowledge that this meant he could proceed in pursuing you was overwhelming. If he thought about it for too long it’d send him to his knees. The first thing he wanted to do was call you, but that plan was derailed when Imps bombed Bo Katan’s home. Considering the woman had saved his life, and watched Grogu when he was unable, the least he could do was get her to safety. Maybe the covert wasn’t the best place for Bo Katan Kryze, but Din needed to go there anyway so why not use it as a shelter.

As Nima liked to say: two porgs, one blaster.

When everything had settled, the first thing he did was find a quiet spot to call you. Grogu was passed out in his arms and Bo Katan was sitting not too far away in contemplation.

“You alright?” Din questioned.

Bo hummed. “Suppose so. Not how I expected this day to go, but…”

“I’m sorry. About your home.”

“...Thank you.” Bo said after a beat of hesitation.

Din could tell she was still in distress. Lost in her thoughts. He could’ve pressed further, attempt to help her some more, but it would have to wait. If Din didn’t talk to you right now he’d burst. The excitement of being redeemed mingled with the knowledge that for a brief moment today he thought everything had been over.

He activated the holocall and leaned against the cave wall.

When your face appeared on the screen, Din sighed in relief. Being trapped on Mandalore, sending Grogu away, your face had been the last one he thought of. “Ner kar’ta.” He breathed out. Din didn’t even care that Bo was only a few feet away and able to hear his entire conversation. “You are…”

He was going to call her a sight for sore eyes, but you looked more than exhausted. Something was wrong. Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes and you didn’t have that same glow that Din admired. Before he could question, you spoke, “You can call! That means you’re not on Mandalore anymore, right? How’d it go?”

“I am redeemed.” Din said with pride and despite how tired you look the smile you wore brightened in excitement. You cried out about how happy you were for him and how proud and how much you missed him and couldn’t wait to see him. Hearing that praise from you was somehow better than hearing the Armorer confirm he was no longer an Apostate. Din shook his head, deciding to steer right back to his concern, “You look terrible, ner kar’ta.”

You forced a chuckle. “Exactly what a girl wants to hear.”

“You are the most stunning woman I have ever known, and every day I get to see you, bask in your beauty, is a blessing I am undeserving of.” Din said sincerely and he watched your face twist in mild embarrassment. Your smile turning cute and sheepish. He grew serious once more. “But right now, you look ill. Hurt. So I will ask again," Din shook his head, "What. Is. Going. On?”

You twisted your lips, weighing pros and cons, and then with a sigh you lifted your right hand so it came into the screen’s view. Din’s eyes widened at the swollen and discolored look of your fingers wrapped in a makeshift split.

“Me’bana!? Cuyir gar o'r aaray??” Din barked. Grogu stirred briefly in his arms. “Pehea rucuyir gar shupur'yc!?”

“I don’t speak Mando’a, honey.” You sighed with a small amused smile.

If Din wasn’t so caught off guard and worried about the state of your hand, the nickname that fell from your lips so easily would have made him flush in warmth. Din shook his head. “Are you alright?? What happened?”

“It was stupid.” You shook your head. “Cleaning the bacta tank, I slipped up. Got my hand caught in the filter door.” That wasn’t like you. Typically, you were very cautious and careful with your work. “It looks worse than it actually is, I swear. The swelling has gone down a lot.”

Din narrowed his eyes at your wording. “How much time has passed? When did this happen, ner kar’ta?”

“...Yesterday?” You said it like it was a question.

“Ner kar’ta.”

“Yesterday morning.” You confirmed sheepishly.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were on Mandalore. No service.”

Din tilted his head, “You tried to hide it at the start of this conversation. If I didn’t press, would you have told me about your accident?” You pressed your lips together and winced. Din blew out a breath of air. “Dank farrik. Ner kar’ta…”

“I didn’t want to worry you.” You said softly with a frown.

Din shook his head again, keeping his voice firm. “I need to know these things.” The thought that you were injured was staggering, but knowing you could be hurt and keep it from him? All he wanted in life was to protect you. Take care of you. “You need to tell me⏤”

“Why?” Bo suddenly called out loud enough that your face morphed into confusion at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. “Did you tell her about how you nearly died three times today?”

Din flinched and your jaw popped open. The exhaustion seemed to be wiped away and replaced with a mix of anger and shock. “You what!?” Din began to speak but you cut him off. “You nearly died today!? Din! What the hell is the mystery voice talking about!?”

“Well, it wasn’t⏤”

“You were gonna scold me about my broken hand and not mention multiple near death experiences??” Din winced. That was a fair point. He didn’t see it from that side. The sight of your discolored and swollen digits had blinded him about every other detail of the day. “Din Djarin⏤ Do you have a middle name? I want to yell your entire name at you but⏤ never mind. Just⏤ Maker! Are you alright? Are you safe? Is Grogu⏤”

Din cut in, “Yes. To all of it. Grogu is safe,” He lifted his arm enough that she could see the snoozing boy, “I am safe, I am okay. In fact, I am less injured than you are right now.” He sighed. “And, you’re right. That wasn’t fair of me. I just… I panicked.”

Your gaze softened but the concern remained. “Yeah. I guess… As long as you guys are safe.”

“We are, and we’ll be home soon.” Din promised. Your lips twitched up into a smile. “Who is taking care of you right now?”

You chuckled. “Uh, me?”

Din hummed in displeasure. He should be there to help you⏤ to take care of you. It killed him to be this far from you. A part of him wanted to stand up right now and fly home, but he needed to talk to the Armorer tomorrow. He needed to have something forged.

“Maybe you should stay with Nima…”

“I can take care of myself, Din.” You grinned. “I’m the greatest doctor in the galaxy, remember?” Din chuckled under his breath. “You really are okay, though?”

Din nodded. “I swear to you, ner kar’ta.”

They only spoke for a few more moments because Din was adamant you go to bed even though it wasn’t very late in Nevarro. You just looked so exhausted. Maybe he’d talk to Karga about a vacation. If they got the new physician to move to Nevarro then the city could afford to spare you for a few days. Vanth could stay a little while longer to cover for him. Din just wanted to take you somewhere nice⏤ somewhere relaxing. Though he should probably focus on actually courting you before he starts thinking of honeymoon options.

When the holocall ended, Din glanced over at Bo who simply tilted her head at him. He scoffed, “Really?”

“Seemed like pertinent information.”

“Your hand still looks like shit.”

You glanced up at Nima with a tight lipped smile. “A little rude considering I saved your hand.” She snickered. She wasn’t wrong. The swelling had improved but the bruising still looked Maker awful. Though, with Aayla’s help you were able to get a real splint on it. “I thought you were bringing me lunch.”

“I thought you were going to come with me to lunch.” She argued.

Luckily, the clinic wasn’t busy. So you shrugged out of your white coat, leaving you in just your scrubs, and then followed Nima who was leading the way with a bounce. There had been no further news on the Kurt situation which left you in turmoil. However, Nima had been doing her best to distract you and anytime anxiety did try to wash over you, you just reminded yourself that your boys would be home in the next 48 hours or so.

“The Razor Crest project is going so well.” Nima clapped her hands. “I mean, we’re still missing some key pieces, but Peli and I are nearly done with the engine rebuild. Can you believe that?” You hummed in interest. It’d be nice to see it eventually. The Crest was such a strong presence in so many of Din’s story and Grogu’s pictures. Obviously, this wasn’t the exact same. Version 2.0, but still. “Peli said⏤”

The sound of a low rumble filled the air. As you, Nima, and all the other citizens standing outside paused to listen to the sound, a large shade began to cover the city. As if the sun was being blocked out. You looked up and your eyes widened at the sight of a huge ship.

“Shit. That’s a Corsair.” Nima mumbled in shock. Just as the words left her mouth, an alarm began to blare loudly and the voice of a droid called for evacuation to the lava fields. You didn't even have a spare second to panic because that’s when blaster fire rained down on Nevarro.

mando'a translations

ner kar'ata: my heart Me'bana?: What happened? Cuyir gar o'r aaray?: Are you in pain? Pehea rucuyir gar shupur'yc?: How were you injuried?

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#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #a fresh start #female reader #mando x reader #mando x you #mando #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #fluff #angst/comfort #domestic bliss!din djarin

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princessmisery666 · 2 months

Text

The Right Guy On Paper

Summary: Dean receives unexpected news, and his chosen coping mechanism leads him straight back to you. Part 2 of 3. Part 1 - Just Don't Say You Love Me.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, mentions of cheating.

W/C: 4,315.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Mentioned: Sam Winchester.

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: A bar - An Arrest - Loyalty

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes remain my own.

A/N: I finally figured out part 3 so here's part 2.

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

How did he not see this coming? Well, he did, maybe, but not this soon. But still, how could he have not seen it coming, especially after his last encounter with you? It had been written all over your face; you didn’t want a full-blown commitment or declaration of love, but the hope of some kind of promise was there. He’d shot it down immediately, made a hasty retreat, and hadn’t spoken to you in over a month.

It doesn’t make it sting any less. But that’s all it is, a sting, a scratch. It will scab over, and he’ll ignore the itch. At least, that’s what he tries to convince himself of as he pulls up at Jody’s.

The door opens as he steps onto the porch. It’s Jody, phone to her ear, and an incredulous look turned in his direction.

“Yeah, he’s here,” she says into the phone. So Dean assumes it’s you checking up on him. “Yeah, will do. Okay. Bye, honey.”

Dean kisses her cheek, perhaps a little too hard, as he crosses the threshold, heading straight for the liquor.

“Dean…” she starts.

He ends it immediately, holding a hand up so she can see it over his shoulder. “Don’t.”

He doesn’t see her surrendering gesture, but he hears it in the sigh she releases over the clink of the bottle hitting the glass. He shoots back the whiskey; it's the cheap stuff and burns more than it should.

He pours another shot, back still turned, but he can feel Jody’s eyes on him, the worry radiating off her. He won’t tell her he’s fine. She’d see right through it.

“Wanna talk about it?”

He laughs, humorless but amused because Jody knows the answer, yet she always asks on the off chance he’ll give her a glimpse of what’s going on in his head. If only he knew himself, maybe he’d share it.

Another blazing shot warms him from the inside.

He pours another and takes a breath, waiting for the flame in his gut to simmer. But it doesn't, and it’s not because of the cheap liquor, so he concedes, taking the bottle and the glass to the chair. “Who is he?”

Jody sits opposite him, smiling softly. “His name’s Luke, nice guy.”

“Luke,” he tests out the name before washing it away, swilling the liquid around his mouth. This time, he lets the wince show, accepting that it's more than the booze. “He’s a cop, right?”

“Yeah,” Jody confirms.

He smiles, even feels the fondness in it, but the sentiment dies before he finishes his sentence. “She has a type.”

Jody reciprocates the gesture, reaching over to take the glass from him. “Don’t push her out because of this,” she says, “she’s good for you. Some of those broken pieces didn’t seem so broken when you’d been around her. That doesn’t change because you're not sharing a bed anymore. Let her be your friend.”

“Yeah,” Dean sighs, “maybe.”

But he knows he will push you away because he doesn’t know how to be your friend. After all, you’ve never been just friends.

It’s too easy and not as entertaining as Dean hoped. He’s been on a bender for a few days now. He told Sam he was just stir-crazy, the monsters haven’t been monster-ing lately, and he needs an outlet. It’s partly true. It’s the lack of killing, plus the news Jody delivered a week ago. More so the latter.

You and Luke are engaged.

Dean thinks it's too soon; it’s only been two months. But then again, what does he know? Maybe when you know, you know. You're no fool. And you didn’t suffer fools. You wouldn’t commit to something unless you knew it was right for you.

So Dean’s been doing what Dean does best, finding distractions to bury his tumultuous emotions. He was looking for a warm body, but when no one caught his eye, he settled for ridding some suckers of their hard-earned cash.

He’s up three hundred dollars with double or nothing on the line. Though part of the hustle is to appear drunk, as he finishes his seventh, or maybe it’s his eighth beer - he lost count after shot number four and around bottle five - he thinks he really should slow down. If only for the fact Sam will have to come collect him and Dean doesn’t want to hear the ‘your-not-twenty-six-anymore’ lecture.

His opponent, David, walks around the table, looking for the best angle to take his shot. It doesn’t matter. Regardless of what he does, Dean’s got him in three moves. Or at least he would if his earlier victim, Jason, wasn’t striding up behind him with a furious look that Dean sees in the mirror hanging on the wall behind the table.

“Hey,” Jason calls, a tenth of a second before he throws a punch that Dean ducks.

Dean spins to face him, standing his ground. He can’t back up out of reach cause he’ll hit the wall and box himself in. “C’mon man,” Dean tries, “don’t be a sore loser.”

Jason is already swinging a second punch that Dean recognizes the poor form would likely break his hand had Dean not sidestepped to avoid it.

Two of Jason’s friends are close by but seem reluctant to back up their buddy, so Dean tries to reason with them as he pivots so Jason has his back to the wall, and Dean can back away. “Come get your friend before he gets hurt.”

That’s enough to convince them to intervene, but instead of doing the smart thing and removing their friend from further embarrassment, they descend on Dean, and he’s left with no choice.

He smashes the pool cue into the stomach of the first one. The dude doubles over and falls to his knees. The second man narrowly avoids tripping over him, stumbling towards Dean’s perfectly formed fist, and goes down after a crack of bone and a scream of pain.

Jason looks down at his fallen comrades, and Dean lifts his brow, challenging him.

“Walk away,” Dean advises.

He doesn’t.

Dean has to give credit where credit is due. Jason is tougher than his withering friends. He takes three shots to the face and manages to land a good right hook to Dean’s mouth before he drops to the floor, rolling into the fetal position when Dean takes a step forward.

He can’t be sure whether he was going to kick the man while he was down. But he’ll never know because two sets of hands grab his arms.

Dean doesn’t think. He reacts. Twisting his right arm free, he throws a punch as he turns.

“Okay, you're under arrest…” but it’s too late. His fist connects with the jaw of his captor - a blond cop who still has a hold of him.

Dean’s brain finally registers the uniform and star pinned to his chest, and now he’s really in trouble. “Shit!” He grumbles, holding his hands up as the blood trickles from the cop’s nose.

Dean tells Deputy Callaghan he’s making a mistake and wasting his time hauling Dean to the station. But his suggestion to call Sheriff Mills to get this mess straightened out falls on the deaf ears of the cops in the front of the squad car.

Dean gives up. Jody will have his back, and hopefully, she’s got some leftovers for him at the house.

“You're gonna feel really stupid when we get in there,” Dean says as Callaghan roughly pulls him from the car. “I’m telling you, Sheriff Mills will have your ass for wasting her time.”

“That’d be scary,” Callaghan smirks, smug in whatever knowledge he has that Dean doesn’t. “If she wasn’t on a retreat in Milwaukee until Monday.”

“Crap.”

“Looks like you're our guest until we can get a hold of her, which could be days.”

“Crap.”

Despite Dean’s lack of resistance, Callaghan makes a point of manhandling him through the station doors. He must want to look tough in front of his buddies and make the dried blood on his shirt look like Dean put up a fight that Callaghan won on account of his being detained.

Dean accepts his fate - for now. He doesn’t want to cause more trouble for Jody to clean up.

But maybe he should have because slipping the cuffs and making a run for it would have been easier than facing you. As soon as the door swings shut, like some kind of magnetic pull, your eyes find him, and you're frozen in place staring at him while some newbie who looks about twelve talks at you.

You hand the clipboard back to the young deputy and march with such purpose toward him he’s expecting a Sam-level lecture, but instead, you look around him.

Dean’s seen the sneer you unleash on Callaghan before, but there’s an extra layer to it, a venom that spits out with your command, “Uncuff him now.”

Dean is glad he’s not on the receiving end of your ire, and the station falls quiet. All activity ceases while they watch the show.

The softness of Callaghan’s voice doesn’t match his words or reasoning tone. Dean can tell this dude knows he’s on thin ice with you and trying to make it right. “You don’t even know what he did.”

“Bar fight at Lloyds. Heard all about it.”

“He hit me.”

“You're still standing, so it obviously wasn’t hard enough,” you counter, and Dean sniggers, as do some of the other people watching.

“Y/N,” Callaghan tries again.

You purse your lips, stubbornness settling in tight. “Release him and get out of my station.”

Technically, it's not your station, but Dean assumes Jody’s left you in charge while she’s away. He really wants Callaghan to point that out because Dean can see your one smart comment away from adding to the bloody nose Dean gave him.

But you don’t give him a chance to make the mistake of correcting you. “You owe me, Luke, now and forever, so I’m calling in a chip. Release him!”

Silence prevails for a loaded second. Dean turns slightly to look at Luke, jiggling his hands behind his back. “You heard the boss,” he smirks, “I’m a free man.”

Luke shakes his head and looks back at you. “Whoever he is,” he says, pointing a finger dangerously close to Dean’s face, “he’s trouble.”

“She can handle it,” Dean counters and winks when Luke finally breaks the stare-down with you.

That’s enough to deflate his bravado a few notches, and he finally turns and leaves, slamming the door open as he goes.

Dean mumbles a thanks while you unlock his new jewelry, suddenly feeling some embarrassment for being arrested. He turns to face you, rubbing at his wrists now that the metal is gone. “Sorry if I’ve caused you any trouble.”

“It’s fine,” you wave him off, “no trouble.”

You stare at one another for a short moment, and he sees how tired you look. He opens his mouth to say it's good to see you despite the circumstances, but before he can utter a syllable, you hold up a finger.

Leaning around him, you announce, “Shows over,” and the station springs to life again.

“I should get out of your way,” he says, giving a tight smile.

“Can I give you a ride back to your car?”

He shakes his head, “No, thanks. I’m good. I could use the walk.”

“You got a motel?”

“Nah, just passing through.”

“You’re too drunk to drive back to Lebanon.”

He shrugs, “I’ll find a motel.”

“Here,” you say, fishing in your pocket for a set of keys. “These are for Jody’s. No one’s there. Jody is in Milwaukee, Alex is on vacation with friends, and Clare is hunting in Michigan.”

He makes no move to take them, so you grab his hand and place them on his palm, closing his fingers around them. “I’ve been keeping an eye on the place, but I’m finishing up here and heading up to her cabin. Jody will be back about three tomorrow.”

“Deputy Dick said she wasn’t back until Monday.”

You roll your eyes, “he lied. He does that.”

You don’t elaborate, and Dean doesn’t push, but he knows there's a story to be told.

“There’s beer and leftover lasagne in the fridge,” you layer on top of the perks, “and it's closer than the bar. Just sleep it off, please. For me.”

He nods, “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“Take care, Dean.”

“You too,” he says. He wants to hug you or kiss your cheek or something, but instead, he stares at his fidgeting hands. “Um…maybe we can grab a drink soon,” he suggests, “it’d be nice to catch up.”

“I’d like that,” you say, and your smile is genuine and kind when he meets your eyes again. “You know where to find me, Winchester. You never needed an invitation. That hasn’t changed.”

He laughs just as someone calls your name, and you excuse yourself. He watches you cross the room to the same deputy you were speaking with earlier. He really has missed you, but the open invitation dulls the ache a little. He’s definitely going to take you up on it.

You haven’t been sleeping well lately. It’s understandable; you’ve been through a lot, so you're surprised that you wake just after eleven to the cheerful, chirping bird song.

It must be the peacefulness of the forest that surrounds Jody’s cabin that allowed the much-needed rest to extend later than usual. You're grateful that she practically forced the mini-break on you - “You need to get away. Get your head straight. Take a few days.” As you step onto the porch with a steaming mug of coffee and the thickest blanket you can find, you realize she was right.

This is definitely what you need: nature and some quiet time. No hustle and bustle of a busy town, no traffic noise or drunks snoring logs in the holding cells.

Wrapping the blanket around you, you get a whiff of the cotton-fresh fabric softener and wrap it snugger around you as you sit on the porch swing.

That’s where you spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon wrapped up in the blanket with a book from Jody’s collection. You brought a healthy supply of food with you, and that's the only decision you need to make today: what to cook for dinner.

You’re two delicious sips into your third coffee of the day when the quiet is disrupted by the unmistakable growl of Baby’s engine. He’s not speeding, and you haven’t missed any calls, so you don’t think it's an emergency.

Dean cuts off the engine as he pulls up behind your truck, returning the forest to its quiet tranquility, and steps out of the car with a bright smile.

“Hey,” he greets as he reaches the bottom step.

“Hey yourself,” you grin, finding his smile endearingly contagious. “Everything okay?”

“Peachy,” he says, “passing through on my way home and wanted to say thanks again.”

He could have called you from the road, so you know the flimsy excuse is the best he could come up with, but you're not upset that he’s there.

You laugh, “You mean Jody asked you to check up on me?”

“That too,” he admits with a slight shrug.

You feel the hurt constrict your chest again. Jody’s concern is a reminder of what happened. “She tell you why she wanted you to check up on me?”

“No,” Dean says, climbing the few stairs to stand on the porch. “Doesn’t take a genius, though.”

“Just a sober hunter.”

“Ow, low blow,” he laughs.

You laugh with him for a second but cut it off with a deep sigh. He will hear the story sooner or later. It may as well come from you. Closing the book and putting it on the table, you ask, “Can you stay for dinner?”

He claps his hands and rubs them together, “What’re we having?”

It shouldn’t be as easy as it is to fall back into the familiarity of working together. Dean chops peppers and onions while you put the chicken breasts in the oven. It’s effortless, moving around without getting in each other's way.

You’ve missed it, and from the slight smile that remains while Dean works, you think he feels the same.

He doesn’t press for information, though you’re sure he’s desperate to know why you're at Jody’s cabin alone and if Luke was/is your Luke owed you big enough to let him go without question.

You wash your hands and move on to making the dough, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Dean. It’s easier to talk that way without the embarrassment of looking at him face-on. Though you know he won’t judge you, you don’t want his pity. Still, you start with an easier question.

“You have Charlie’s unlimited credit card.” Mixing the ingredients in the bowl, you ask, “So it’s not like you need the money. Why were you hustling people?”

He shrugs. “Needed some entertainment.”

“It work?”

“Yeah, for a minute,” he chuckles, “at least until I got socked in the mouth.”

You see his tongue poke out to lick at the cut on his lip. “Maybe that's what I need.” you wonder, sprinkling flour on the countertop.

“To get clocked in the face?”

You chuckle along with him. “No, smartass. Some mindless entertainment, forget everything for a while.”

“Like why Luke owes you now and forever?” Dean asks.

“Nice transition,” you jest.

“I thought so,” he says, walking to the fridge to grab the cheese along with two beers.

He twists the caps off and tosses them in the trash. He’s started grating the cheese before you decide to tell him what happened.

“It was good for a while, really good, dreamlike even.” you take a long pull on the beer, and he’s nice enough to keep working, piling grated cheese to the side before continuing to work on the remainder of the block. “But obviously, it was too good to be true. His ex showed up. She’d left him to take a promotion a couple of years ago but decided her career wasn’t all she wanted after all. He made a big show of telling her no and asked me to marry him." The dough takes the brunt of your ire, words punctuated with huffs of breath while you knead it into shape. “He took a demotion to be closer to me. I thought I’d bagged a good one, a real devoted guy. But I was wrong. It didn’t take long for him to cheat.”

“Glad I clocked him.”

“Me too.” silence stretches, and you break it by blasting out a long sigh. “I’m such an idiot. I chose the stable guy, the guy that was right on paper. I picked the easy way, and it backfired.”

“That doesn’t make you an idiot.”

“No?” you question, pausing your work to look at him. He halts his task, too, looking at you fully. “When I found out, I did all the tests, holy water, silver, recited an exorcism ‘cause I didn’t believe he was just a bad guy. If that doesn’t spell out desperate idiot, I don’t know what does.”

“It doesn’t!” He argues, frustrated that you're talking down about yourself. “But you know what does spell out ‘idiot’? Cheating on someone as awesome as you.”

You cock a small smile, “Thank you.”

You hold one another's gaze for a long moment. You want to tell him that you would have picked him over Luke, over anyone else, but you know he wouldn’t want to hear it. As if he can read it in your expression, he clears his throat and breaks the loaded stare to turn back to his task.

“C’mon,” Dean says, “Let’s get these pizzas baking and get drunk.”

The late morning rise must have been a fluke because you can’t sleep. Considering the half bottle of whiskey you drank with Dean, you're surprised by your inability to fall asleep.

Maybe that’s the cause of your insomnia, too much alcohol in your system, or the fact that it feels weird knowing Dean is sleeping in the room next door, or perhaps the emotional turmoil of the last few weeks is taking its toll. Whatever the reason, the more you try to force it, the further away it seems to get and the angrier you become. After an hour of tossing and turning, you give up.

You need to do something to occupy your mind and decide to bake some cookies. Once in the kitchen, you realize that using a mixer will most likely disturb Dean, who’s just down the corridor. But now that you’re up, you really want cookies and decide to mix them by hand.

The first batch is just starting to rise in the oven when Dean appears, fully dressed but with messy hair and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Crap, did I wake you?” You ask.

“Nah,” he shakes his head, bleary-eyed, squinting under the brightness of the kitchen lights. “Don’t tell Sam,” he says, “but I’m not twenty-six anymore. Indigestion woke me up.”

You laugh lightly, “There’s Pepto in the bathroom.”

“Found it,” he tells you, clicking the button on the coffee machine. “Then I smelled cookies, so I came to investigate.”

“Well, perfect timing. The first batch should be ready by the time the coffee’s done.”

He doesn’t speak while the coffee brews, but you feel his eyes following you. You wonder what he’s thinking but know better than to ask. Maybe you truly don’t want to know. The thought of him pitying you fills you with embarrassment despite knowing Luke’s actions are not a reflection on you.

Dean pours the fresh coffee and adds sugar and a splash of cream to yours, sliding it closer to you while you pull the first batch of cookies from the oven and onto a cooling rack.

He steals one, “hot, hot, hot,” he hisses, juggling it from one hand to the other. Despite the obvious temperature, he takes a bite, huffing out the heat before it's cool enough to bite down.

He chews three, four times, hesitates, and chews some more. It’s evident from the face he’s trying, unsuccessfully, to not pull that it’s terrible.

“It’s awful, right?” you ask with an apologetic scowl.

He nods, grimacing, “Disgusting,” he confirms but starts chewing again as if the taste will improve.

“Well, don’t eat it!” You scold, laughing, “spit it out!”

He rushes to the trashcan and spits out the chewed-up wad.

“I’m sorry,” he says, swiftly walking back to grab his coffee and taking a big gulp. “I was trying to be polite, but yeah, that was not good.”

You know he’s not being purposefully mean. You’ve never been good at baking, and clearly, eyeballing the ingredients didn’t work, but it still hurts a little. You sigh, watching the cookies slide off the plate and into the trash.

You scoop the second batch of cookie dough onto the spoon and into the trash, “I guess I wouldn’t have made a good wife after all.”

“Don’t say stuff like that,” Dean reprimands. “You’d make an awesome wife.”

Has he really thought about what kind of wife you would be? Why would he? That was never a possibility for the two of you, so it’s purely a reflex, saying something nice to make you feel better.

You don’t respond, continuing to tidy the mess you’ve made while Dean steps out of the way, leaning his shoulder against the fridge to watch you.

While your back is turned, he asks, “Is that really what you wanted? To be his wife?”

You shrug, wiping down the countertop with a damp cloth. “I don’t even know anymore.”

“You were so career-driven, always seemed happy in the moment. I never pegged you for the white picket fence type,” he comments, sipping his coffee again.

“I never was.” You laugh without an ounce of humor because he has you dead to rights. How well he knows you always surprises you, which in turn surprises you more because that’s what he does for a living. He has to read people. The same way you do - checking for tells and body language of victims and suspects. Dean knows when he’s being lied to. You know you’d never sneak one past him. Yet he doesn’t seem to understand that he was the one who changed your perspective. He was the one who made you believe there was more to life than a career.

“So it was him then?” he softly asks, as if he’s expecting you to reveal a secret. “He changed your mind, made you want it all?”

The anger and bitterness swell inside of you. Not just towards Luke for promising you a future and then ripping it away, but at Dean for being oblivious to the fact he’s the reason for the change of perspective.

“It doesn’t matter what changed. It’s over now,” you snap, throwing down the cloth and knocking the neat pile of crumbs you’d made onto the floor. “All of it.”

“Why are you mad at me?” he yells, looking slightly confused and standing straighter.

“I’m not,” you try to backtrack, though your volume increases. “I’m just mad! Mad at Luke for being an unfaithful asshole, mad at myself for falling for it, mad at the universe for giving me something good and taking it away again. And y’know what? Yeah, I am mad at you, Dean! I’m fucking furious ‘cause you changed my mind. You made me realize I could have it all: a career and partner who understood my commitments, someone who was happy to slot into my life when it worked for both of us, and made me see it could be effortless. I didn’t want any of that until we started our thing.”

“Hey!” he shouts back, “I never said never. I said not right now. Or then or whatever.”

“Bullshit! You said you couldn’t make any commitments, even without Chuck pulling the strings.”

“Yeah, I meant I needed a minute to process, figure some stuff out. You said we were good. You didn’t want any ‘awkward conversations’,” he counters with full-on air quotes.

“I didn’t want to scare you off!”

“And I didn’t want you to run off and meet someone new!”

“Yeah, well, that worked out just fucking great, didn’t it!” The anger simmers, and you hold his eyes until he blurs behind your tears.

Dean blasts out a sigh, “Maybe I should go.” He phrases it as a suggestion, but he’s already tipping the remainder of his coffee into the sink, so obviously, he’s made up his mind.

“Yeah, maybe you should,” you say, blinking up at the ceiling to stem the tears. “I’m really not in the headspace for this right now.”

You keep your back turned while he shuffles around, going to the bedroom to grab his duffle.

Why did Jody send him? She was the one who suggested the vacation, and she, of all people, knows how much losing Dean hurt you. You’d confided in Jody about the commitment comment, which had been the catalyst for realizing how deep you’d got with Dean and how much it wasn’t reciprocated.

A chair momentarily teeters as Dean pulls his coat off the back, but the jingle of his car keys is what pulls you out of your own head.

Tears suffocated and stalled, you find the courage to turn around, but he’s already at the door. “Dean,” you call. He stops and half turns to face you, but you don’t know what to say. It’s too soon to let yourself be vulnerable with anyone, but you don’t want him to leave, at least not like this.

You stare at him, hoping he can read the words you can’t find in your expression.

He breaks eye contact, looking down at his feet. “I’ve, er… I’ve missed you.”

It lifts a weight you weren’t aware you were carrying but brings fresh tears to your eyes. “I’ve missed you too.”

He drops his bag at the door, crosses the room, and swiftly tugs you into a tight hug. “Call me when you’ve figured all this out,” he requests, and all you can do is nod into his shoulder. He kisses the side of your head and rushes out like a gust of wind.

Part 3 - Just Say You Love Me

Tags info

/ @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimal87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @pank0w / @kmc1989/ @deans-spinster-witch / @spnbaby-67 / @roseblue373

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

#dean winchester #jacklesversebingo23 #spn #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #reader insert #female reader #dean winchester angst #spn fanfic #angst #spn fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fandom #dean winchester x you #you x dean winchester

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strawberriianime · 12 days

Text

Your Love Is My Drug

✰ rockstar! choso x reader

✰ cw: 18+ content, descriptions of sex, unprotected sex, nipple play, fingering, creampies, lots of dirty talk, slight choking, choso smoking & with a dxk piercing !

You clutched your phone sighing looking at the concert tickets your best friend had shoved in your face. "My favorite band is coming and you have to come with me! I don't wanna go alone!" she exclaimed squeezing the tickets and jumping up and down. "Yeah, fine I'll come." you smiled slightly as she hugged you tightly. "It's Friday, at 8:00 pm we can meet up at the venue! I'll take both tickets with me, but I'll see you later bye!" she waved walking out your front door. You flopped down onto the sofa chair pulling your knees to your chest laying in complete silence nothing but the tick tick of the clock on the wall filling the room. Friday. The concert is in a couple of days, giving you 4 days to prepare. If it wasn't for your friend you definitely wouldn't go, but being the good person you are you would hate to disappoint her.

Friday

The day has finally come, instead of counting down days, you were counting down hours, minutes even seconds. Dragging the sheets from your body, considering you laid in bed all day wasting time and made your way to your shower stripping the clothing you had lounged around in. The warm water slid down your skin as you exfoliated and washed your body. You did your skin care as well before turning off the shower and wrapping a fluffy white towel around you. Drying and moisturizing your body, you begin putting on your outfit and your jewelry. After styling your hair you looked at the time 6:26, meaning you need to get a move on. Putting the last few belongings in your purse, you grabbed your keys locked your door, and made your way to the venue. Fortunately, it was close to your apartment so you could walk there. Upon arriving, you could see the large crowd of fans some wearing merchandise, some dressed as their favorite member but you were looking for your friend. Almost on cue, there was a tap on your shoulder causing you to look back at the unknown person. "I'm glad you made it! C'mon let's go check-in, we got really good seats!" she grabbed your hand dragging you through the crowd.

Just your luck, the seats were in the front row giving you an up-close view of the members. The stage was still empty as music was being played through the venue to warm up the crowd. "Ah! I can't wait to see Mahito he's my favorite!" your friend squealed as the lights began to dim, spotlights replacing the main lights. You twisted in your seat nervously as you heard the riff of a guitar watching as four people made their way on stage. The crowd began cheering loudly, almost louder than the music that was playing on stage. Smoke filled the venue as the lights flashed down on the members causing the fans to scream even louder than before. "I can't believe I'm seeing Mahito in person in real-time!" your friend exclaimed causing you to chuckle. Looking up at the stage, your eyes were met with the member who had his hair pulled up into two spikey pigtails. You quickly looked away, shuffling In your seat once more. As the show went on, you prayed over and over again for it to end and finally the lights came on. "Aw I can't believe it's over already, I love The Cursed Spirits is it bad I want to put tickets to their next show too?" your friend sighed as she followed you out of the venue. "Well goodnight, get home safe okay." you smiled at her softly hugging her. Just as you turn around you feel your phone buzz.

*new message from +1 (867) 584-5421*

___? *read*

You sighed ignoring the message, feeling your phone buzz once again.

*new message from +1 (867) 584-5421*

I know you read my message. Just talk to me...please? *read*

*new message from +1 (867) 584-5421*

Please, I will send a security guard down to escort you just wait somewhere. I just want to talk to you, please.

Fine. I'm standing out front. *send*

You sighed once more standing with your arms crossed and waiting until you were approached by a bald man with a goatee wearing a pair of black glasses. "Are you _____?" you nodded your head in response as he led you to a black sprinter that was parked in a dark alleyway. Getting in, you were the only passenger to your luck. He slammed the door before hopping in the driver seat and pulling off to who knows where. After about 15 minutes, the van stopped and the door opened. Looking around you were at a fancy hotel, probably the fanciest one in the city. You followed the bald man to the elevator, waiting as the music filled the silence between you two. The door opened as he led you to a room in the back of the hotel. He disappeared leaving you to knock slowly at the door.

After about a minute you hear soft clicks before the door opens allowing you to walk into the spacious room.

"It's been a while" that familiar voice rang causing you to turn your head. You let out a deep breath before responding, "What do you want?" you stared up at him. You'd be lying if you were to say he didn't get even more attractive or perhaps it's the fact that it's been too long since you last seen him. "I want to work on us," he stated. "Work on us? There is no us? We broke up six months ago." you huffed eyebrows furrowing slightly. You watched him make his to the chair, pulling out a cigarette in the process before lighting it ablaze. "That's what I want to work on. The fact that there is no us," he said blowing out the smoke and leaning into the chair. "Choso, we broke up," you replied. "And we can get back together." he took another drag of the cigarette. "I still love you. I know you still love me, if you didn't you would have gone back home and ignored me. I didn't force you to come here, I just asked nicely." he blew the smoke of the cigarette out. He wasn't lying, you did have feelings for him still. He can tell by the sudden contortion of your face that you were in deep thought.

He put the cigarette in the ashtray putting it out and made his way over to you. You felt his cool hands grab your face suddenly making you look up toward him. His soft lips made their way to your own as he began kissing you gently. Standing on your tippy toes you pulled him in closer, deepening the kiss missing the feeling of his cold lip ring on your warm lips. "Jump" he demanded as you followed his strong hands gripping onto your lower thighs. He swiped his tongue across your bottom lip making you open your mouth slightly as this tongue slid against your own. You moaned into the kiss as he began walking over to the countertop, sitting you down gently hands now finding their way to the plump of your ass. Your hands fiddled with his shirt signaling him to remove it granting you access to his toned muscular chest. Breaking the kiss once more, you quickly removed your own top and fortunately, you hadn't been wearing a bra. He peppered kisses from your lips, down to your jaw to your collar bone finally stopping at your full breast. Taking his right hand he began tweaking your sensitive buds before replacing his hand with his warm tongue making you arch your back slightly. He sucked greedily at your nipple making sure to leave the bud satisfied before switching to your left. He sucked at your left bud, using his free hand to snake its way to your bottoms pushing down the material along with your panties. You felt a finger swipe at your slit and gather the juices that had quickly formed, "So wet already. Fuck I missed you so bad." His ring finger circled your entrance accompanied by his middle finger before he pushed both fingers in causing you to let out a series of moans. He sucked at your neck as he began moving his fingers in a "come here motion" "Fuck." He groaned the sound of your own arousal turning him on even more as each thrust of his fingers released a squelching pop noise. He could tell you were close to cumming as he pulled his fingers out making you let out a disapproving sigh. "Need you to cum on my dick baby, not on my fingers." He quickly shuffled out of his pants causing his hardened dick to spring free, precum leaking over the piercing. He rubbed his dick up and down your slit using your juices to coat his tip, the feeling of the cold metal brushing against your clit was just enough to almost make you cum on the spot. You arched your back slightly, letting out a high-pitched moan as you felt him push himself into your heat. "Fuck I missed this pussy so bad" His words alone were more than enough to get your juices flowing. "Always nice and wet for me, shit have you always been this tight." he pushes into you creating a steady pace. You wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him in even deeper than before feeling his piercing nudge at your G-spot. "Ah fuck fuck fuck feel so fucking good I can't" You throw your head back as his hard rough stroked continues to make your legs grow weak. "Who's pussy is this huh?" he groans in your ear rough strokes choking you up. He wraps his hand around your throat, tightening it just enough to allow you to still breathe. "I-It's yours" You throw your head back feeling your release build up. "Pussy so wet fuck, I'm gonna cum. Are you still on the pill?" his thrust never slowed down going faster and rougher than before. You nodded your head. "Good I'm gonna fill you up with my cum, and down waste a single drop" he tightens the grip on your throat fucking into you roughly his thrust getting more sloppy. "Fuccck" With a final snap of his hips he feels you pulsate around him causing him to cum deep inside you. The room was silent as you both caught your breath, a comfortable silence. "So are we back together?"

#I had finished watchin Nana and got a lil inspired from nana and ren btw ren so fine #choso x reader #choso kamo #choso smut #choso jjk #ayeteen plus #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #anime smut #mahito #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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lovelettersforthedamned · 2 months

Note

Congrats on 400 followers! Can you do Jake Lockley + "shut up and just let me take care of you" and make it fluffy pls 🥹

Fall Into You

✮ jake lockley x f!reader

✮ word count: 0.4k

✮summary: taking care of jake was a treat. for both parties involved.

✮ warnings: a few kisses, ending hints at fun times;), mentions of scars, so much fluff.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main masterlist ⋆ moon knight masterlist ⋆ four-hundred follower bash

not my gif. credits to the owner.

London nightlife was always loud. The street below the apartment you shared with the boys was bustling with crowds moving from point A to point B. But while the erupting laughter was heard, the buzz of comfortable silence filled the room.

Jake was ‘Moon Knight-ing’, as you liked to call it, before he returned home, his muscles sore from the abuse it’s taken from the many nights he pushed himself too far. You’re sitting behind him in bed, lotion lathered on your hands as you massage it into his back.

As you work the lotion into his skin, you can’t help but stare at the scars that litter it. Your fingers trace over each one. Each pattern you draw sends a shiver down Jake’s spine, you giggle each time he reacts. “You know you don’t have to do this, hermosa,” he turns his head over his shoulder to look at you. You pay him no mind as you bring your hands over his shoulders, applying pressure to the knots there.

“Shut up and just let me take care of you,” you whisper into his skin, planting a kiss there.

Jake’s body relaxes as soon as your lips touch his back. He always thought that he never deserved a love like this. He was the last one to meet you out of the three. Lingering in the back, he was secretly jealous of the attention Marc and Steven were receiving. And with their encouragement, he finally came out of his shell, letting you in, letting you love him.

If anyone saw this side of Jake, they wouldn’t believe it. Whenever he fronted, his cold demeanor never left until his eyes laid on you. And just like tonight, he’s never felt more relaxed in his life.

“Hermosa,” he calls out for you, causing you to stop your movements, “c’mere.” You crawl around to place yourself next to him, your hands immediately reaching for him, as if it’s an instinct. “I love you so much,” he sighs before leaning in to press your lips to his.

The kiss is slow, but so incredibly passionate. Your lips dance together to an unknown beat. Jake’s hand reaches up to cradle the side of your face, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You sigh into his mouth as you crawl into his lap. Pulling away he looks down at your new position, “It looks like I’m about to take care of you, huh?”

A giggle escapes your lips, “I hate you.”

“Yeah, mhm. Let’s see if you still say that in twenty minutes,” he smiles before planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

✮ author's note: thank you anon for the request!! i love jake with my whole heart omg. i have a bash going on, so check it out!!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support my blog!! ok, bye ily<3

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley fluff #jake lockley drabble #moon knight x reader #fluff #marvel #moon knight fic #llftd 400 follower bash

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chweverni · 4 months

Text

HOW I THINK _ bonedo 'n their love languages ! (pt.2)

pairing; ot6!bonedo x fem!reader synopsis; how would your adorable boyfriend(s) express their love for you? word count; 614 author's note; pt.2 is here!! wooo what are yall's thoughts on a taesan fic involving love potions? i got the idea a while back but idk if the commitment is there lmfaoo

read pt.1 here !

KIM DONG HYUN - physical touch/gift giving & receiving !

ESFJs are.. interesting. when they're in love, every little thing their partners do, affect the way they judge their relationship. here, leehan would definitely be the one who's into physical affection a lot. for him, a day without your hugs and kisses, or cuddles right after waking up, is enough for him to jump into conclusions that maybe your day was bad, or that you had a nightmare. he'd do everything, in his favors to make your day better. leaving you in bed, with a forehead kiss, and going out of his way to bring you breakfast in bed is something i definitely think he'll do a lot! the type to be totally into pda because he desperately needs people to know that he has the most prettiest, cutest, sexiest, smartest and loving girlfriend on this entire planet!

think of gifts such as flowers, hand-made cards, CDs or cassettes, rings, things he made in art classes such as little pots, drawings, tickets to concerts or amusement parks, because he loves to spoil his babe a lot and would swim across oceans just to get you the things you like. and this would totally go both ways, too. you would exchange gifts whenever there's a special day you both would like to cherish together.

he'll probably get you hot water bags, chocolates, snacks and warm blankets when you're on your period and would check up on you frequently to make sure you're doing fine. he would give back rubs whenever you're having cramps, while you sleep helplessly on your bed.

"i made you this during pottery classes.. see the flowers here? they're real! i glazed them afterwards.", he'll say proudly, with his adorable eye smile.

you'd kiss him immediately right there and then, which he would return in a heartbeat.

KIM WOONHAK - quality time/physical affection !

another ENFP, who has an unhealthy obsession of being with and around you 24/7 because he just loves you a lot, he can't help it okay? for him, one second without you feels like eternity. you two spend every second together, being literally attached at the hip. the type to send you messages like, "i wish you lived next to me, so that whenever i wake up, i could just stick some notes in my window, wishing you good morning, hoping you'd see them.", knowing that you'd have to literally run out of your house to reach school on time if that happened. he's the one who yaps a lot in the relationship, while all you can do is either listen with full interest, or feed into his interests by asking him more. and if you do both, he'll probably be planning a future with you, far away from the main lands, because he wants you to himself.

the type to give you surprise hugs whenever you're fully focused on something, like reading a book, to see you flinch. he'll probably be into the concept of cheek touching, as a form of greeting you. be prepared for random kisses on your cheek, nose, forehead, lips, hands and knuckles through out the day, because poor baby just cannot get enough! think of teddy bear hugs, and him resting his chin on your shoulder.

he's totally the type to fall asleep in the bus/train ride home after school, leaning to your body or shoulder, while one of your earbuds is still playing faint music, to help him sleep.

"can you come over, baby? pretty please? i promise this is the last time i'm asking you this! i miss you.", even though it probably will continue to happen every single day.

that's it! i hope i did them justice as usual <3

thanks for checking in on my blog, love you, bye!

all creds to chweverni only on tumblr !

#boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor #leehan fluff #leehan imagines #leehan boynextdoor #leehan x reader #woonhak imagines #woonhak x reader #boynextdoor woonhak #woonhak fluff #these two <3333

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merrybloomwrites · 9 months

Text

You Can Start a Family (Chapter 10)

Summary: Love on Tour comes to an end, and new relationships begin in Italy.

Previous Chapters: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine

CW: Smut

This is the final chapter of this main story! But don't worry, I have lot's of plans for blurb/ one shots. Check out my last post here for more details about that. And please send me requests!!

Thank you to everyone who has read this story! It's the first things I've ever published like this and the feedback has truly been wonderful. I hope you enjoy this last chapter.

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The second week of traveling Europe and going to shows is just as wonderful as the first. Maybe even more so. You’re more comfortable with everyone, having become friends with the whole band and a fair number of crew members. Things have calmed down slightly, and you learn that there was a lot of extra craziness surrounding the Slane and Wembley shows. Everyone has a bit more free time now, including Harry.

You, Harry, Sarah, and Mitch hang out a couple of times all together. Each pairing also spends some quality one on one time together. Sarah made plans for the two of you to get massages as well and mani pedis during a day off in Cardiff. You and Mitch have lunch together followed by him teaching you some new skills on guitar. Harry had found a hiking trail he wanted to try so the two of you do that together and have a picnic.

Mitch and Sarah each go out with Harry, and have a date just the two of them. After each outing you all tell each other what you’d done but don’t share all of the details. It doesn’t seem necessary. There is an inherent trust that you all have, and this allows you all to keep some of the individual moments special. You’d realized that in a relationship with this many people, each individual pairing needs to be fostered.

The four of you are able to hang as a group two times that week. The first time, you all go for a walk in Cardiff together and have lunch. The next day you have a movie night in Harry’s hotel room. Both times are very casual, and the conversation about Harry officially entering the relationship is never brought up. There’s an understanding that things are to go back to normal until tour ends.

You enjoy the last three shows you are at. There is a chance you’ll be back for the final show in Italy, but nothing is set in stone, so you keep that to yourself. You wander around the stadium with Brad again for the two Cardiff shows and are permitted to sit in front of the barrier during the show in Belgium. You take in every moment in Werchter, ignoring that this time tomorrow you’ll be back home. You latch on to Mitch and Sarah the second the show ends.

The three of you fight sleep that night, staying up too late talking, kissing, exploring each other’s bodies once again. You wake up wrapped in their arms and continue the activities from the night before. You spend time simply pleasing each other with your hands and mouths until your alarm goes off, signaling you need to start getting ready for the airport.

You shower, get dressed and make sure everything is packed. There are about 15 minutes left before your car leaves for the airport, and you hear a knock at the door. Mitch goes to answer and a moment later he walks back, Harry following him.

“I just wanted to say good-bye,” he says. “It truly has been wonderful getting to know you these past couple of weeks.”

“I’ve had a great time hanging out,” you reply.

“Will I see you again soon?” he asks.

“I hope so. I’m working on it.”

“Good,” he says as he pulls you in for a hug. It’s everything you’ve come to expect from Harry’s hugs- comforting, long, feels like home. You say good-bye to him before pulling back, and soon after he leaves so that you have alone time with Mitch and Sarah.

You’ve been holding up better than when they left you a few weeks prior, but as the time to depart draws closer, your eyes start to fill with tears. You look up, trying to blink them away, but it’s no use.

The second they notice Mitch and Sarah wrap their arms around you. For a few minutes no one speaks. You all just stay in this group hug, comforting one another and soaking up the contact. Your phone buzzes, and you have a text from Pete saying he’s available to drive you when you’re ready.

Sarah steps back, allowing Mitch to pull your lips up and meet his. “I love you,” he says against your mouth before moving to press a kiss to the crown of your head. “I’ll miss you baby.”

“I’ll miss you too, Mitch. I love you so much.” After one more kiss you turn from him to Sarah who immediately pulls you in tight.

“I love you sweetheart. And we’ll see you again soon, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, now so emotional that you’re having trouble getting the words out. Your “I love you” is barely a whisper, but she hears. Her hands rub your back and she kisses you just like Mitch had- first your lips, then your forehead. You keep your eyes closed, committing every detail of this interaction to memory so you can hold on to these feelings as long as possible.

You take a deep breath and finally break the hug. You grab your bags, dry your tears, share one more simple peck with each of them and walk out of the room.

Pete is waiting in the lobby along with Madi who says, “Hope you don’t mind me tagging along. A friend of mine is landing soon, and I wanted to be there to pick her up.”

You’re happy to have Madi’s company, so you reply, “I don’t mind at all!” and you give her a genuine smile. It was hard saying good-bye to Mitch and Sarah, which is why you had decided it should be done in private and not at the airport, but having Madi in the car with you raises your mood. It makes you realize that in the past two weeks you have made a lot of new friends, which is something so difficult in your adult life.

You spend much of the flight home thinking about all those friendships, the moments you spent with the band and the crew. Though you are sad to leave, you also feel happier than you have in a long time.

You text Mitch and Sarah once you get home and even though it’s the middle of the night for them, they both reply immediately. It fills you with warmth to know that they stayed up until they knew you were home safe.

*****

The next few weeks are just like those first weeks of tour, except this time you’re on the phone with more than just Mitch and Sarah. You speak to Harry every couple of days, and occasionally get to FaceTime with other members of the band when they hang out together.

A week after you leave you find out that Harry has rented out a number of homes in Italy for the week following the final show. Much of the band and crew would be staying there for a relaxing vacation after these stressful months. At first Mitch and Sarah say that they’re not going to stay, that they want to fly back to you as soon as it’s done, but you tell them not to come back right away.

You tell them that baby Ryan’s grandparents are planning to visit, and that you’re going to get more time off that week. You assure them that you can fly out at least for the second half. What you don’t tell them is that you’re actually planning to get to Italy just in time for the final show. Pete’s been helping you coordinate the details, ensuring that no one else knows. You’re not sure if he’s an incredibly loyal person, or if he simply doesn’t care about your personal life, but he’s a lifesaver for helping you without asking any questions.

The weeks end up flying by. You and Ryan spend as much time outside running around or swimming in the pool as possible. You’re keeping so active that you’re exhausted by the time you get home each night. While tiring, it comes in handy because before you know it, you’re packing for a week in Italy.

Keeping your travel plans a secret from Mitch and Sarah is difficult, especially when they call you while you wait at the airport. You run to find a quiet corner, praying no overhead announcements get picked up by the phone. You keep things light, a normal Friday night phone call before they head to bed. When they hang up you breathe a sigh of relief, as it seems they didn’t figure out your whereabouts.

This trip is definitely more stressful than the last. It’s not a direct flight and the second leg is delayed. Once you land you still have to take two trains, and due to you arriving late you miss your original departure. You get new tickets sorted and grab lunch to enjoy on the way. Finally, you arrive in Reggio Emilia, but Pete is no longer able to pick you up, since he has other jobs assigned to him. He sends another crew member, Erin, which leads to a moment of confusion since you hadn’t met her before and didn’t have a way to contact her. It takes a while but you eventually find her in the pickup area.

It's nearly 6 PM by the time you make it to the stadium. Erin ends up being a literal godsend and shows you a place where you can quickly freshen up and get changed. She also takes care of your luggage and leads you down the hall to the band dressing room.

Luckily the door is open, so you walk right in. Ariza is the first to notice, shouting, “Hey! She’s back!” which alerts everyone else to your presence.

You’re looking right at Mitch and Sarah, and you can tell the exact moment they realize who Ariza is talking about. You blink and the next thing you know Mitch has wrapped his arms tight around your waist to pick you up and spin you in a circle. He quickly puts you down and lets go, not wanting to be too obvious in front of the whole band.

Sarah hugs you next, tucking her face into your shoulder and pressing a kiss there knowing that your hair is blocking the intimate gesture. You’re then pulled into hugs by the rest of the band as well as some crew members who pass by.

After a short conversation with the band, they turn to continue getting ready. There’s definitely a different atmosphere in the room than usual, and you know everybody is dealing with their mixed emotions about this being the final show.

“Do you think there’s any chance I can say hello to Harry before the show?” you ask Mitch.

“We can go check,” he replies, “but I’m not sure if he’ll want to see people right now or be alone.”

“Of course.”

The three of you walk down the hall and Sarah gently knocks on the door. You’re standing behind her and Mitch, and so Harry doesn’t notice you when he opens the door.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” he says with a smile.

“Brought a surprise,” Sarah says before stepping to the side.

The second he sees you his eyes light up. He pulls you in for a hug, one arm secure around your waist while the other holds the back of your head. You stay like that for a full minute before he pulls back and ushers the three of you into his dressing room.

He sits in his chair, gesturing that the three of you take the couch. You sit in between Mitch and Sarah who each take one of your hands in theirs, still in slight disbelief that you’re there.

“I thought you weren’t coming for another few days,” Harry states.

“Yea, why’d you lie?” Sarah asks with a smile.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure this would work out. I didn’t want anyone to get their hopes up just in case I didn’t make it. And I barely did. I was supposed to get here hours ago.”

“What happened?”

“Typical travel nonsense, nothing to worry about. Now tell me, how are you all feeling?”

Everyone is quiet for a minute. Harry speaks up first, saying, “I’m feeling sad that it’s ending. And proud of what we accomplished. It’s very bittersweet.” He pauses and the others nod their heads in agreement. “And I’m also feeling very hopeful. I will say I’m glad to have something to look forward to.”

You give him a confused look, not exactly sure what he’s talking about. He continues, “I mean if the offer is still there. For me to join you all.”

It clicks in your mind and your expression changes immediately.

Mitch reassures him quickly, “Of course the offer is still there. We want you to be a part of this Harry. You’re so important to us, and if we can make this work, I think we’ll all be extremely happy.”

Harry visibly relaxes in front of you, a content smile spreading across his face. This moment of peace is short lived as there is another knock on the door. Pete is there alerting everyone that it’s almost time for Wet Leg to open the show.

“I should go, I want to talk to them before they start,” Harry says.

You all get up and you turn to give Harry another hug before leaving, as you know you likely won’t see him again before the show starts. You lean in to say, “I am incredibly proud of you. Everything you’ve done is amazing. And I’m very happy to see what the next chapter brings for you, and for all of us together.”

When you pull back you see a hint of tears in his eyes. He blinks them away before looking back at you. He brings one hand up to rest on the side of your face and then hesitates. He moves forward slightly, your eyes meeting and his lips a mere inch from yours. At the last second, he seems to stop himself, and you feel his lips press against your cheek.

He pulls away to press a kiss to Mitch and Sarah’s cheeks as well, and you’re all blushing when you walk out of the room.

After a brief stop in the band dressing room, you all head out to watch Wet Leg. Sarah and Mitch are more reserved, standing together, Mitch’s arm around Sarah’s waist. A part of you wishes you could be like that in public, but you’re honestly just happy to watch them be adorable. Plus, you know the fans are loving how cute they’re being. You dance with Madi, Elin, Ariza, and Pauli and have a wonderful time.

Once Wet Leg is done you join the people who are congratulating them. After a little while you make your way to the band’s room again so you can see Mitch and Sarah before they go on. You don’t say anything, but you don’t have to. They heard your words to Harry earlier and they know you’d be saying the same to them if you had privacy.

You use your all access pass to its limits during the show, moving around to wherever you’ll get the best views without blocking any of the fans or getting in the crews’ way.

You’re mesmerized from the first moment everyone steps on stage. Harry looks amazing in his silver outfit, and you love the denim jumpsuits on the band. You practically melt every time Harry speaks in Italian. The extra songs are so special, and you barely hear the Two Ghosts intro leading to Falling because the crowd is screaming so loud.

At one point you find yourself with Brad, James Corden and a few others mixing in with the fans. Everyone loses their minds when they do the full version of Best Song Ever, including you.

You cheer extra loud for everyone when Harry introduces the band. Fine Line nearly brings you to tears. The piano piece that Harry wrote to play as the final song truly did bring you to tears. It was so beautiful and a perfect ending to the tour.

Everyone takes their final bows. Harry walks across the stage, thanking all of his fans before moving back to the center. He takes it all in, finally falling to his knees because he is so overwhelmed with emotions. You glance at Mitch and Sarah, now standing together with arms wrapped around each other. They’re watching him and you can see the love and admiration in their eyes. They’re just as proud of him as everyone else.

As soon as they walk backstage you and the rest of the family and friends head there as well. Immediately you’re met with celebratory chaos. For a solid half hour there’s cheering, shouting, dancing. Finally, everyone starts breaking away to get changed. After everyone is ready you all head over to a nearby club to properly celebrate the end of tour.

The place Harry chose is perfect. Downstairs in a small dining room, quiet music playing, and delicious Italian food set up along one wall. Upstairs is the complete opposite. It’s darker, there’s loud music, and a bar is set up on every wall of the room.

After scoping out the place Mitch simply says, “food” so you join him and Sarah at the buffet. The three of you are joined at a table by Madi and two of her friends. The food is delicious. Your family may be Italian, but they’ve never made anything this good.

Once you’re all satisfied you head upstairs. It’s gotten extremely crowded, and you have to weave your way through people to get to the bar. Sarah orders for everyone since she has the loudest voice out of the trio. You smile as she hands you your favorite.

For the next hour or so you dance, drink, sing along to the music, and have a great time. It’s been years since you’ve let loose like this, and you’re enjoying the freedom of it. For the most part you stick with Mitch and Sarah, but you also spend time hanging out with other band or crew members.

You find yourself lost in the crowd after Pauli leaves the dance floor to head to the bathroom. A moment later a man you don’t recognize walks up to you.

While the party is mostly for all the people who worked on the tour, there are also others there that you haven’t met. Some are crew members you haven’t had the chance to talk to, and some are friends, family members, or industry contacts that got an invite because of the status they hold.

“Hey, I’m Ricky,” he says, holding his hand out to you.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you,” you reply while quickly shaking his hand. You don’t necessarily want to talk to him, but you were always taught to be polite.

“Great party huh?” he asks, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Oh, yea, it’s pretty cool,” you reply, looking around for someone that you know but not being able to see anyone. You can’t explain it, but something about this guy has you feeling uncomfortable.

“What are you drinking? I can get you a refill.”

“Thank you but I’m alright.”

“Yea it’s getting late huh. Maybe we could get out of here, have another after party of our own.” And there it is. You’ve been hit on a couple of times before and you never know how to respond.

“No, I think I’m just going to find some of my friends.” You turn and try to walk away but he grabs your wrist to keep you there. The second his skin touches yours you start to panic. You’re not fully freaking out, figuring he wouldn’t try something in a room full of people, but what if he’s able to get you alone?

“I could be your friend.” If you weren’t so worried about what he might do, you’d be rolling your eyes at that awful line and the way he thought that would actually work on you.

“That’s okay, I’m all set on friends at the moment. Now please let go of me.”

His other hand slides to your hip, gripping tightly and he leans in to say, “Oh c’mon babe, don’t play so hard to get. It��s a night for celebrating. Let’s have some fun.”

Your panic kicks up a notch at how close he is, and how tightly he’s holding on to you. It’s becoming more obvious he’s not going to take no for an answer, and you’re desperately trying to think of ways to get away from him, or at the very least, stay in the crowded party room until someone finds you.

He steps more into your space and your mind goes blank with fear. Suddenly there’s a hand on the small of your back and you jump at the touch. “Shh, love, it’s just me,” you hear Sarah say and take a deep, relieved breath. You’re finally free from his hold and you lean into Sarah who wraps her arm tight around your waist.

You look up and see Mitch leaning over Ricky, talking so low that you can’t hear him, but whatever he says works and the man walks away looking both embarrassed and afraid. Mitch takes a deep breath before turning to you. He cups your face in his hand and asks, “Are you okay?”

Your eyes are wide with leftover fear and panic as you meet his, but you nod. “I’m okay,” you say quietly, but they’re both close enough to hear you.

“Okay. Good. Do you want to leave and go back to the house?”

You shake your head no. “I really don’t want to end the night on that note. Can we stay a little longer?”

“Yea, baby, whatever you want.”

“But just stay with me, okay?”

“Of course,” Sarah says.

Mitch adds, “We’re not leaving your side for a second.”

You take another minute to collect yourself and put a smile back on your face before sliding your hand into Sarah’s and leading her to the dance floor. At first, you’re not as into it as before, going through the motions rather than fully dancing. Eventually the rest of the band joins in and you feed off their positive vibes. By the time people start leaving an hour or so later you’ve basically forgotten about Ricky.

After another little while most of the people have gone. The music is turned down and the lights are still dim but brighter than before. Mitch leads you and Sarah over to one of the bars, where Harry now seems to be sitting by himself, a new drink in hand.

You had lost track of Harry an hour or so before, and it seems he had spent much of that time in this location. You’ve never seen him drunk before, and while he’s certainly not wasted, he’s not sober either. He has a sort of a lost, sad puppy look on his face.

“You alright man?” Mitch asks, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yea, mate. I’m good,” Harry replies in a tone that indicates he’s definitely not as good as he says.

Mitch gently takes the glass from his hand and places it on the bar and says, “I think it’s time to go. They’re starting to clean everything up.”

“I don’t want to go,” Harry replies. A beat later he continues, “I don’t want to be alone.”

Your heart breaks at the sadness in his voice and you share a look with Mitch and Sarah. You know they feel the same.

“You’re not going to be alone, love,” Sarah says gently. Harry looks up at her, not understanding. “We’re coming with you. Tours over. We’re all going to be together. And that can start tonight. Does that sound alright to you?”

His face lights up at this news. He nods and looks between the three of you, seeing smiles on all of your faces.

“Come on, let’s get going,” Mitch says, wrapping an arm around Harry and supporting him out to the car. Harry leans heavily on him, but you think this has less to do with being unsteadily drunk and more to do with seeking comfort from the physical touch. You know that’s what he’s doing because you’re doing the same with Sarah.

A large black Chevy Suburban is waiting outside for your group. You and Sarah climb into the back row and Mitch and Harry take the middle. You try to stay awake for the drive, but it turns out you’re heading straight to the beach villa which is two hours away. You fight sleep for the first few minutes, trying to watch the scenery outside, but Sarah sees what you’re doing. She knows that between working all day Friday and then immediately traveling to the show, you likely haven’t slept in close to 40 hours.

Her arm wraps around you and her hand presses gently on the side of your head. “Sleep my love,” she says. You stop trying to fight it and instead melt into her side, your head resting on her shoulder. You fall asleep immediately.

The sun is starting to rise by the time you arrive at the house. The others had all dozed off as well but wake up when you pull into the driveway. You, however, snuggle closer to Sarah, refusing to open your eyes. Mitch looks back and sees the predicament and says to Sarah, “Go in with Harry, I’ll take care of her.”

Sarah moves you so that you’re leaning against the window instead of against her. Mitch lowers the middle row of seats so that Sarah can get out and so he can reach you. He carries you into the house and finds the other two in the bedroom. Harry is setting out some of his clothes for everyone.

“I don’t think they knew where to bring your bags. We’ll get them here in the morning, but you can borrow these for now.” Mitch lays you on the bed and takes off your clothes from the day, pulling a large t-shirt over your head to cover you.

“If you guys want you can have this room, I’ll sleep in the other one,” Harry says.

Mitch and Sarah share a confused look. “Harry,” Sarah starts. “We were planning on you staying with us here. So that we’re all together.”

“Will we all fit?”

“Of course we will. Y/N typically sleeps on top of one of us anyway so technically she doesn’t take up any room,” Mitch says with a fond smile.

They climb into bed with you, Sarah next to you on one side with Harry on the other. Mitch checks the doors are locked before turning off the light and getting in next to Harry. Everyone falls asleep within minutes.

You wake up to bright sunlight in an unfamiliar room. You’re laying on top of someone, a male someone, but it isn’t Mitch. You think about everything you remember from the previous night, and panic. The only thing that comes to mind that could explain the current situation would be if Ricky had come back and somehow got you to go home with him.

You quickly sit up, moving so suddenly that you nearly fall off of the bed. Sarah catching you is the only reason you don’t fall to the floor. Seeing her is enough to break through the panic, and your brain finally wakes up enough to realize what’s going on.

You weren’t sleeping on Mitch, but he is right next to you. It was Harry underneath you. You’re embarrassed by your reaction, and disappointed that you ruined what should’ve been a sweet moment.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks. “Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

“No! Not at all. I’m fine, I just got confused for a minute. There was a guy last night who was hitting on me and not taking no for an answer and when I woke up in a new place, I got scared thinking I was with him. Just freaked out for a second.”

“Who was it?”

“I think he said his name was Ricky.”

“I don’t know a Ricky. He must be one of the people management insisted we invite for networking. I can get the guest list, figure out exactly who he is if you want. Get him fired or something.”

His protectiveness has you feeling incredibly cared for, but you assure him that it’s fine.

“Can we just redo that?” you ask.

“What do you mean?” Sarah says.

“Redo the start of the day. It’s the first time all four of us are waking up together and I ruined it!”

“You did not ruin anything Y/N,” Mitch says. “You expressed real emotions, okay? We’ve talked about this; you can’t feel guilty for having feelings.”

“I know, I know! I’m not trying to ignore my feelings. But I want today to be a happy day. And I want to start it right. So can we please forget all that and redo?”

“Yes, love,” Sarah says. “We can start again if that’s what you’d like.”

“Thank you!” You crash into Harry, pushing him back so he’s once again laying down with you on top of him.

You lift your head off his chest to meet his eyes. “Good morning darling,” he says, and you smile as you say the same to him. You then turn to Mitch and Sarah and they each wish you good morning and place a kiss on your lips.

There’s a moment where no one knows what to do next, but Mitch makes a decision. He leans down so he’s level with Harry. Their eyes meet and slowly they inch their faces closer together. Finally, their lips meet. It’s a small press of their lips, chaste, almost domestic, like it’s something they’ve been doing to greet each other every morning for years.

When they pull back there’s a new light in Harry’s eyes. He looks happy and peaceful, like he’s been waiting for this forever. He turns his head, and since you’re still on top of him you think it’s your turn to properly greet him. But Sarah leans in, capturing his lips with her own. Mitch chuckles as you pout, but the expression quickly fades away as you watch the two of them.

While the kiss with Mitch was one of familiarity, and rekindling a romance, this is two people exploring each other for the first time. After years of friendship and working together, they now get to come together in this new way. They take a minute to get lost in one another, and you smile as you hear soft sighs from both of them.

They break apart and Harry looks to you. He brings his hands up to cup your cheeks and you move so close that your noses brush and you can feel his soft exhale on your skin.

“Is this okay?” he asks quietly, and you whisper “yes” before crashing your lips to his. His fingers slide through your hair, holding you close to him as his lips slot against yours. It’s a short kiss that has you craving more, but as you pull away you know it’s perfect for the moment.

“I want to have a proper date with you all,” Harry says.

“We’d love that,” Sarah answers.

“Tonight. I don’t want to waste another minute.”

The conversation is interrupted by knocking at the front door. You move so that Harry can get up and answer it. He walks back a minute later and lets you guys know that your luggage was just dropped off. Hearing that makes you realize how long it’s been since your last shower and so you open your bag and grab what you’ll need.

Everyone takes turns showering and getting ready. Once you’re done you realize you’re starving and look at the clock. You’re shocked to see it’s already past 2 in the afternoon. You head to the kitchen and see Harry making sandwiches for everyone.

“Anything I can help with?” you ask.

“Got a bunch of fruit in the fridge, can you help me cut that up?”

“Absolutely!”

You get to work, natural light streaming through the windows of the beautiful kitchen. The four of you sit down for lunch and then enjoy the afternoon sitting out by the pool. Luckily the house is set away and is completely private, allowing you all to be yourselves without fear of fans or paparazzi seeing.

By 5 o’clock you’re all inside getting dressed for the date. Harry had planned it all and told you to dress nice, but casual. You’re a bit confused but settle for a blue and white sun dress. You walk downstairs and see not only Harry, Sarah, and Mitch, but two other people as well.

“Y/N, I’d like you to meet Claudio and Mia. They’re going to be cooking dinner for us all tonight,” Harry says to introduce you. You shake their hands and say hello and you realize the date Harry has planned.

It’s perfect. A wonderfully cooked Italian meal here at the villa. There’s no risk of you all being spotted or overheard, and you’re free to have a true first date. If you’d all gone out, then you’d have to be careful about everything you say and do, but that’s not the case here.

The four of you make your way out to the patio and immediately open a bottle of wine, Harry filling everyone’s glasses. A few minutes later Mia brings out the first appetizer, a caprese salad that must be made with the freshest ingredients you’ve ever tasted. Next, she brings out a fig and goat cheese crostini, some of which are topped with prosciutto that makes your mouth water.

Dinner is just as delicious, homemade pasta topped with a sauce that is both decadent and light, bursting with flavor. After dinner, while you’re sharing the second bottle of wine, Claudio and Mia come out one last time. They inform you all that they are heading home, and dessert is plated in the kitchen whenever you’re ready.

You thank them profusely, telling them how much you loved everything, and Harry walks them out. He comes back and the four of you are once again alone. While dinner conversation had been quite casual, everyone learning more about each other, it starts to get a bit deeper.

“How exactly will this all work?” Harry asks.

“Well, obviously communication is the most important thing here,” Sarah replies. “Everyone needs to be honest and open about anything they’re feeling. If we hide things from each other that will create problems.”

“And what about publicly? We can’t really go and tell the fans all four of us are together.”

Mitch answers this time saying, “No but we could just say that you and Y/N are together. She’s been seen enough with us, people probably have assumed by now she’s our friend. You’d say we introduced the two of you and you hit it off. And because she’s our friend it would make sense for all of us to be seen together.”

“Lots of double dates in our future,” Sarah says with a wink.

Harry turns to you and asks, “Are you okay with that? Dating me publicly?”

“I am. I know that it’ll probably come with some pushback from fans and things like that, but I really think this could work. And we’ll all be happy.” Harry leans in, pressing his lips to yours. It’s innocent enough and first, just a couple of quick pecks.

He pulls back and his eyes meet yours. There’s a moment where he watches you, his gaze intense, and the next thing you know his lips are back on you. Even though the kiss is firm, his lips feel wonderfully soft against yours as he takes control of the kiss. You feel his hand move to your thigh and you gasp, opening your mouth and allowing for his tongue to enter.

“Maybe we should head inside,” Mitch suggests. You bite back a whine as Harry pulls away, already missing the feeling of his lips. Everyone stands and heads inside to the bedroom. It honestly should feel weird, the group of you moving in near silence, but the energy is one of excited anticipation.

You pause once inside the room, unsure of what to do next. There are so many options, too many choices, and you do not want to be the one making any. You look to Mitch, who sees the hesitation from all of you, and he takes control of the situation.

“Harry and Y/N, lay next to each other,” he says. You both follow his directions as he turns to speak with Sarah. You’re only left wondering what their plan is for a moment before they also climb on the bed, Mitch straddling Harry while Sarah does the same to you.

She leans in to kiss you, her tongue sliding in immediately. She swallows the whine you let out, and all you can think of is her. It’s been over a month, and you’ve missed them all so much, you’ve been starving for their touches.

After a little while (truly you have no idea how long) you feel Mitch’s hand pick yours up and he places it on Harry’s thigh. A second later you feel Harry’s hand on you. It starts moving higher on your leg, sliding under your skirt. Sarah shifts only so that you can spread your legs a bit but continues to keep her lips on yours.

Harry’s hand moves again, this time to press two fingers to your clit over your underwear and you’re gasping in pleasure at this touch alone. You automatically grab his thigh and realize that your hand hasn’t moved since Mitch placed it there. You decide to follow Harry’s lead and slide it up his thigh. You and Harry let out matching moans as you finally grip Harry’s hard length over his shorts.

You feel Harry pull away for a second before he slips his fingers under your panties to touch you directly. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of being touched so intimately. Summoning confidence that you didn’t know you possess, you slide your hand under his layers of clothing. There’s a moment where you hesitate, unsure if it’s okay to touch him directly. He senses your inner debate and guides your hand to his cock, letting you know it’s absolutely okay with him.

You grip your fist around his length and pump him a few times. The noises he makes only turn you on more. Your other hand travels down to Sarah’s leg, and you move under her skirt and waste no time sliding your fingers into her underwear to rub through her folds.

She’s soaking, and you easily push two fingers inside her.

“Fuck, Y/N,” she moans before starting to leave love bites along your neck. She pulls back and looks to her side, saying, “Mitch, switch with me.”

He gives Harry one last deep kiss before pulling away from him. Sarah gently pushes your fingers out of her so she can move to Harry’s lap. “Are you clean?” she asks him as they help each other out of their clothes.

“Yes, got checked a couple weeks ago, haven’t been with anyone since.”

“Good,” she says, running her entrance above the tip of his cock. “Is this okay?” she asks him.

“Please, yes,” he practically begs, and she sinks onto him. You’re watching them so intently that you don’t notice Mitch at first. That changes the second he pulls your panties off and his hard cock grazes your sensitive clit.

He brings his hand to your entrance, pushing in one finger at a time to open you and ensure you’re ready for him. A moment later his fingers are gone and you feel his cock lining up. His eyes meet yours in a silent question and you nod your head, wrapping your legs to bring him closer to tell him that you want this, want him desperately.

He slowly pushes inside you and you let out a broken moan at the feeling of being filled for the first time in over a month. You pull Mitch’s face down to yours, having realized that you’ve barely had the chance to kiss him all weekend, and you need to remedy that immediately.

The time that follows is both blissful, and a bit confusing. Everyone’s hands are traveling over any limb they can find, kisses being pressed against any bit of bare skin.

You and Harry are the first to come, nearly simultaneously while his tongue is sliding against yours. A moment later you hear the cries that can only mean Sarah has followed the two of you. Finally, you feel Mitch’s thrusts stutter as he finishes inside you.

Everyone comes down from their high, Sarah pulling off and laying next to Harry. Mitch moves to pull out of you but you hold him close and whisper, “Not yet, please.”

“Okay, baby, I’m here,” he answers, leaning down so that you can tuck your face into his neck. After a couple minutes you release your hold on him. Sarah has already snuck out to grab a couple of damp washcloths from the bathroom and she helps everyone clean up.

You all get ready for bed, checking in that everyone is okay with what just happened. Not one of you has any complaints or uncomfortable feelings, and you fall asleep content that the four of you will work just fine together.

The rest of the week in Italy is absolutely perfect. Your group has plenty of time to spend together and your personalities fit together wonderfully. There are a few more discussions regarding the dynamics of the relationship which helps you all feel secure with one another.

During the middle of the week Harry rents out a couple of boats and you all spend the day on the water. Gemma and a few others join you and it is absolute perfection.

At one point Harry wanders to the kitchen area and a moment later Sarah follows him. While he’s been enjoying the day as much as everyone else, she can tell he’s bothered by something and is determined out figure out what it is.

They talk for a few minutes while making drinks for everyone, and after a beat of silence Sarah finally asks, “What is it Harry?”

“Not sure what you mean. I’m fine.”

“No you’re not love, something’s bothering you.”

He takes a deep breath and says, “I know there’s paparazzi watching us. And other people are here. And I guess I am used to hiding a lot of my life but this time feels different. I don’t want to hide our relationship.”

Sarah places a comforting hand on his arm and says, “I completely understand. I know it’s not ideal that we can’t all be together publicly, but if you’re ready, nothing is stopping you from being with Y/N in front of the camera. Whatever comes from that, we’ll make it work.”

Harry smiles, eased by Sarah’s words of wisdom.

They walk back to the main area where the rest of you are hanging out and Harry sits down next to you, closer than he usually would in public. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, and you give him a look. He can tell that you’re confused by the gesture, but not mad or uncomfortable.

He leans in and quietly asks, “Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

“Of course you can.”

“I mean, in front of everyone. With paps watching over there.”

“Yes Harry. That’s perfectly fine with me,” you answer with a smile.

He cups your face, pulling you close to him. He hesitates with his lips mere centimeters away and you whisper “It’s okay, Harry.” A millisecond later his lips crash against yours. He presses firmly against you, a series of chaste kisses on your mouth, nose, and forehead. When you look up you see everyone watching the two of you.

Mitch and Sarah are looking over, warm smiles on their faces. After a beat, Gemma jumps up and rushes over to give the two of you a hug. “I told mum weeks ago you two would be perfect!”

The rest of the day is absolutely wonderful. After sailing in the sun for the afternoon you all head back for dinner at a beautiful restaurant.

You, Harry, Mitch, and Sarah get to the house just after sunset. Immediately you fall into bed, not wanting to waste another moment. You explore each other’s bodies once again. Harry proves without a shadow of a doubt that he is a gentleman, checking in with you constantly as he slides into you for the first time, stretching you more than you’ve ever been before.

As you’re all catching your breath, trying to readjust the mess of covers, you can’t help but start to giggle. It’s contagious and suddenly the four of you are laughing, though no one’s entirely sure why.

You finally calm down enough to say, “I can’t believe this is my life.”

“Well, believe it baby,” Harry says. “Because we’re not going anywhere.”

“Good.” You reply, shifting everyone so that you’re laying across all three of them. With your head on Mitch’s chest, torso being held by Harry, and legs tangling with Sarah, you fall asleep.

Your last thoughts of the night are about how indescribably happy you are that you’ve found your home and have started a perfect family.

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

@akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @theekyliepage @numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry @ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess @houseofdilfs @shaquille-0atmeal-1 @kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye

AN: Thank you again for reading this story! Can't wait to share more with you all!

#harry styles x reader #mitch rowland x reader #mitch rowland x sarah jones x reader #sarah jones x reader #mitch rowland x harry styles #sarah jones x mitch rowland x reader

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honeypiehotchner · 9 months

Text

Devil's Backbone (Unsub!Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part seven

It's so fun to relive this fic as I post it because when I tell y'all I've been writing it for MONTHS I mean it

Warnings: more unsub!Hotch in action

Follow @honeypiehotchnerlibrary and turn on post notifications to be “tagged” when a new part goes up!

Seven: I've fallen in love with a man on the run -- "Devil's Backbone" by The Civil Wars

A week later, you found yourself on the BAU jet once again -- awake this time, and headed to Florida. It was a run-of-the-mill case, nothing too special, but you remember it because of the call Rossi got when you landed.

“Really?” he asked, turning around, walking to the back of the plane. A smart move, to keep his face and expressions away from the rest of the team. “Alright. Do they know who did it?”

You shared a look with Morgan and Emily. Reid was listening intently, and JJ was typing furiously on her phone.

“What is going on?” you whispered.

Emily shrugged.

“Alright, okay. Thank you. Uh-huh. Bye.” Rossi returned to the main cabin and took everyone in. “Issac Holman is dead.”

“How?” Reid asked before you could say, who?

“He was beaten and shot in his home in Washington,” Rossi replied with a shrug. “They don’t know who did it. It looked personal, but he wasn’t liked in his neighborhood. It could’ve been anyone.”

“If they even try to look,” JJ added, gesturing with her phone. “I’m hearing that they saw it as a good riddance case.”

“Who are we talking about?” you asked.

“I think it was the year before you joined us,” Morgan said. “Holman murdered his friend’s family. Mom, dad, and a little girl.”

“Madison,” Reid said quietly.

“Why?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Because he wanted to,” Rossi shrugged. “His words.”

“We found him when he was seconds away from killing another family,” Morgan continued. “He tried to create a hostage situation, but we got them out.”

“God,” you groaned. You found yourself not that upset that he was dead, but something still felt wrong. No one deserved to be brutally murdered, even if they had murdered a family. “Well. On to the next one.”

“Yep,” Emily nodded, exhaling. “Let’s go.”

+++

Hotch made sure to be long gone from Washington by the time the news broke about Issac’s death. He had another job to finish, one closer to Virginia, so he decided to stop back at his place near Quantico first.

He needed a rest after the drive to and from Washington. He needed to sleep for a full twenty-four hours if he wanted to feel awake again.

Before he could do that, though, he tossed everything in the washer.

Hotch’s phone remained on the kitchen counter, only a few texts from Rossi and one voicemail from him, too. He picked his phone up to listen.

“Aaron, hey-- I got a call a few minutes ago from a friend up in Washington. Issac Holman is dead. They think it happened last week, but they don’t have any suspects. Just thought I’d keep you in the loop. I hope you’re doing alright. Call me if you’re not. Bye.”

Unexpected, but fine. He should’ve known Rossi kept tabs on almost everyone.

He decided to call him back, regardless of if he answered. He needed to curb suspicions before they even began, so he dialed.

Dave didn’t pick up, so Hotch left a voicemail in return. “Hey Dave, got your voicemail. Thanks for keeping me updated, I hope they figure out what happened. Sorry I’ve missed you, I’ve been leaving my phone in random places around the house,” he chuckled. “Thanks again for checking in. Talk soon, bye.”

He ended the voicemail with surprising calmness. Indifference. How easy was that? This would be easier than he thought.

Once his laundry was done, he put it in the dryer, and then went to bed. He slept like the dead.

+++

Rossi listened to Hotch’s voicemail in the conference room of the police precinct in Sarosota, Florida. Hotch sounded good, better than Rossi was expecting, but not off the deep end, which left Rossi relieved.

You heard every word. Because Rossi wasn’t aware of how loud the speaker was, and you didn’t want to tell him. A foolish part of you wanted to hear Hotch’s voice. And he did sound good.

Hearing his voice made it all hit you like a ton of bricks. You missed him more than you previously thought. Everyone saw you missed him more than what felt normal, but no one mentioned it.

Rossi did, though, after he caught you listening to the voicemail. He gave you that typical Rossi smile.

“I know you miss him,” Rossi said, nudging your shoulder with his. “He sounds like he’s doing good.”

You nodded. “Good.”

“I know things ended…badly between you two,” Rossi started again, “but he’s going through a lot.”

You scoffed. “I know that.” But did he really have to end things with you so abruptly and fiercely? Like he wanted nothing to do with you in the first place?

Despite that, you don’t blame him. He lost his wife and child to a serial killer. They were divorced, sure, but should you really have been sleeping with him so soon? How much of this had you caused by not giving him more time?

Part of you wanted to apologize, but didn’t know if that was right. If you had the right to apologize.

“Do you think I could go see him?” you asked, not expecting an answer, but Rossi still gave you one.

“I think he’d like that,” Rossi smiled. “But I don’t know for sure. I can’t speak for him.”

“I know,” you said.

But you wanted to see him. Even if it was just to say you were sorry.

+++

Aaron woke after nearly eighteen hours of sleep. His head hurt like fucking hell. He needed painkillers. Or something.

He went stumbling into the bathroom, pawing open the medicine cabinet. He steeled his face when he saw the various vitamins and over-the-counter cold medicine from when Jack was here. Hotch grabbed them and tossed them aside. The bottles clanged loudly in the bathtub. Whatever.

Aaron found the Excedrin and wrenched the cap off, grabbing two and then a third. He swallowed them dry and shook his head, waking himself up.

He had plans for the day. He had a new unsub to catch.

This one was particularly disgusting. This unsub murdered his wife, nearly murdered their son, yet was never convicted, and even retained custody of their son after it all. The evidence, the profile -- none of it was enough.

Hotch needed to do some surveillance work first. He needed to make sure the son was nowhere near the home when he acted. He would never put a child through something like that.

Not like Foyet did to Jack.

Hotch smacked the doorframe of the bathroom as he left, hearing the wood crack underneath his force. He kept walking.

He threw his clothes in the dryer, surprised by how little blood was left on them. The few that weren’t redeemable, he threw in a separate trash bag to burn somewhere. At some point.

Back in his bedroom, he rummaged through his closet for a black shirt and dark blue jeans, preparing for a long day of surveillance.

+++

Strauss called Rossi on the third night of the Florida case, under the guise of a status report. It didn’t take long for Dave to realize what she really was calling for.

“He’s fine, Erin,” Dave chided lightly. “You could call him yourself.”

“I tried. It went to voicemail.”

“He’s been off his phone more, like you suggested,” Dave added. “I just talked to him a couple days ago. He said he’s been leaving his phone around the house instead of staying attached to it, which is a good thing, if I say so myself. Quit worrying.”

“Alright,” she conceded. “I do hope this time off helps him heal.”

“I think it already has,” Dave said.

“And you haven’t discussed any cases with him?”

“Nope.”

“Has anyone else?”

“I just told you he’s off his phone,” Dave paused to chuckle. Who knew Strauss would turn into an overbearing mother over Hotch. “No, Erin. No one has.”

“Good, good,” she said, pausing. “How are you?”

Dave smiled. “I’ll call you later.”

After hanging up with Strauss, Rossi decided to send a quick text to Hotch. Strauss is worrying. Give her a call when you can, would you?

Hotch replied about half an hour later. Just saw she called, about to call her back. I was out on a run

Rossi smiled, wishing he still had Strauss on the line so he could say See? He’s doing just fine.

+++

A day of surveillance taught Hotch a few things. 1. The unsub lives alone with his son. No other family members means no unnecessary casualties. 2. The unsub is home alone most of the day while his son is at school. Presumably working a remote job. 3. This will be easy.

Or so he thought, because the next day took a turn.

Everything went according to plan, until the unsub ruined it.

Hotch parked down the street. Went up to the unsub’s door, knocked. The unsub answered. Hotch, prompted, “I’m a retired FBI agent, Jason Gideon. I’m writing a book.”

The unsub’s eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed. “No you’re not,” he said.

Hotch narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“I remember Jason,” the unsub laughed, good-natured. “You’re the other one, right? Morgan? No, Hotchner. That’s you. You were younger back then.”

Hotch was caught off guard from the start.

“You said you’re writing a book? Come on in.”

Hotch took the opportunity and went inside, joking with the unsub that he introduced himself as Gideon in case he recognized him.

“No hard feelings,” the unsub joked back. “Want something to drink?”

Hotch didn’t answer. The unsub made the mistake of walking ahead, giving Hotch ample time to smack the unsub on the back of the head with the butt of his gun.

The unsub went down to his knees with a groan, but quickly regained his footing, spinning around to stare wildly at Hotch. “What the fuck?”

“Shut up,” Hotch hissed, barreling closer and swinging a punch, but missing. The unsub bolted for the back door and Hotch followed.

“You’re crazy!” the unsub yelled, twisting the back door’s knob. It didn’t budge. “What the fuck!”

“You killed your wife!” Hotch yelled back, cornering him against the door. “And you kept the kid. Do you hit him too?”

The unsub stared, bewildered. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid with me,” Hotch growled, grabbing the unsub’s shoulders and slamming his head back into the door, forming a dent. “You know what you did.”

In one sudden move, the unsub lurches forward, knocking his forehead against Hotch’s, causing the latter to stumble backward.

“Shit,” Hotch cussed, anger brewing closer to the breaking point. “Oh, you--”

The unsub yanked the back door open and ran, the door shutting behind him just long enough. By the time Hotch wrenched it open and sprinted into the backyard, the unsub was gone, hiding in the woods.

“Fuck!” Hotch screamed, the sound coming from his chest. Not only was he recognized, but the unsub got away. Once he got his hands on him--

But for the next two days, that didn’t happen. The unsub fled the home, but Hotch knew, at least, that he wouldn’t dare go to the police. Not if he was as guilty as Hotch knew he was.

+++

Once the Florida case was over and the jet touched back down in Quantico, you knew you had to visit Hotch.

With flowers in hand -- that you nearly threw away five times on the way because you thought you looked ridiculous -- you knocked on Aaron’s door, not expecting him to answer. If he didn’t you planned to leave the flowers on the welcome mat. Either way, you were here to drop off flowers, check in, and say goodbye. That was all.

Hotch answered the door, shock covering him when he laid eyes on you.

“Hi,” you said, holding up the flowers.

“Hi,” he echoed, standing in the doorway. “What can I do for you?”

You grimaced at the professional tone. “Just wanted to drop these off,” you handed him the bouquet. “And apologize for how things ended. For ratting you out.”

He shook his head. “It’s alright.”

“We miss you,” you said, smiling sadly. “But I hope you’re doing better.”

“I am,” he said, smiling softly. It almost looked too genuine, but you supposed that was a good thing. “And I’m sorry too.”

“It’s alright,” you echoed. “Don’t worry about it.”

And you left. Said something about how you just got back, didn’t get much sleep. He knew the drill. He said goodbye. And you left.

You left.

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