#careful flash your rogues are next | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

urdreamydoodles · 3 months ago

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How about Scott, Logan, Hank, Jean, Orroro, Erik, Colussus, Emma, gambit x reader where they kind of forget to take care of themselves. Like the reader will forget to do basic survival things ( eating, sleeping, drinking water, ect) and just generally overworking themselves

ps. love your content

X-Men x Reader

You forget to take care of yourself

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Hank McCoy, Colossus, Emma Frost & Bobby Drake

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- Logan isn’t the type to hover, but he notices things others miss. He’s sharp enough to pick up on your exhaustion, the way your hands tremble slightly when you’re holding your coffee mug or how you’ve been skipping meals. At first, he doesn’t say much, figuring you’re just busy, but when it becomes a pattern, his concern kicks in.

- He corners you one evening when you’re buried in work, his gruff voice cutting through the quiet. “You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on, or do I have to guess?” When you brush him off with a tired smile, he narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “You forgettin’ you’re not made o’ adamantium? You’re gonna keel over if you keep this up.”

- Logan doesn’t let it slide. The next morning, you wake up to the smell of coffee and bacon. He’s standing in the kitchen, his expression unreadable as he gestures to the plate he’s made for you. “Eat. And don’t even think about arguin’.” His tone leaves no room for negotiation.

- Despite his rough edges, Logan’s care is genuine. He starts keeping a closer eye on you, making sure you’re eating regular meals and getting enough sleep. He even drags you outside for fresh air, taking you on walks or insisting you join him for a sparring session. “Sweat it out, darlin’. Clears the head.”

- When you finally break down and admit how overwhelmed you’ve been, his reaction surprises you. He pulls you into a tight hug, his voice soft as he says, “You don’t gotta do it all alone. I’m here, y’know.” There’s an intensity in his gaze that makes you believe him.

- Logan becomes your rock, the person who grounds you when you’re spiraling. His quiet, steadfast support makes all the difference, and you know he’ll always have your back, even when you forget to take care of yourself.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy is quick to notice when you start slipping on self-care. He may come off as laid-back, but his sharp eyes catch every little detail—the skipped meals, the heavy bags under your eyes, the way your energy dwindles. At first, he tries to coax you back into a routine with his usual charm.

- “Chérie, y’know you can’t live on caffeine alone, oui?” he teases, placing a plate of food in front of you during a late-night work session. When you wave him off with a distracted “later,” his smile falters, but he doesn’t push—yet.

- The breaking point comes when he finds you passed out at your desk, papers scattered everywhere. Panic flashes in his eyes as he shakes you awake, his voice tight with worry. “Mon amour, this ain’t okay. You scarin’ me.” Seeing the genuine concern on his face makes you realize how far you’ve pushed yourself.

- From that moment, Remy takes it upon himself to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. He starts showing up with your favorite snacks, pulling you away from work for impromptu dance breaks, and insisting you take naps—sometimes dragging you to the couch himself.

- One evening, after you confess how overwhelmed you’ve been feeling, he cups your face in his hands, his red-on-black eyes soft with understanding. “You ain’t gotta do it all, cher. Let me help, yeah? We a team.” His voice is so full of love that you can’t help but nod.

- Remy becomes your biggest cheerleader, always finding ways to make you smile and reminding you to prioritize yourself. His unwavering support and playful affection make it impossible not to feel cared for, and you know he’ll always be there to lift you up when you falter.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt notices something’s wrong when you start missing your usual cheerful banter. Your exhaustion doesn’t escape him, and it worries him to see the spark in your eyes dim. He approaches you gently, his tail swishing with concern as he offers a soft, “Liebchen, you seem tired. Are you all right?”

- When you brush off his concern, Kurt doesn’t push, but he starts paying closer attention. He brings you tea when you’re working late, gently encouraging you to take breaks. When he sees you skipping meals, he tries to tempt you with your favorite dishes, his smile warm and inviting.

- One day, he finds you asleep in the library, slumped over a pile of books. His heart aches as he watches you, realizing how much you’ve been neglecting yourself. He teleports you to the couch, covering you with a blanket before sitting beside you, determined to be there when you wake up.

- When you finally open up about feeling overwhelmed, Kurt listens intently, his golden eyes full of empathy. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says softly, taking your hand in his. “I know how it feels to carry too much, but you mustn’t forget to care for yourself. You are precious, mein Schatz.”

- From then on, Kurt makes it his mission to remind you of your worth. He leaves little notes of encouragement around the house, surprises you with flowers, and insists on taking you out for relaxing strolls or quiet nights under the stars.

- His unwavering kindness and quiet strength help you find balance again. With Kurt by your side, you feel lighter, knowing that his love and support will always be a safe haven when the world feels too heavy.

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott is the first to notice when you start overworking yourself. His leadership instincts kick in, and he keeps a watchful eye on you, though he tries not to overstep. At first, he offers subtle reminders: “Don’t forget to eat,” or “You should get some rest.” But when it becomes clear you’re ignoring him, he grows more direct.

- One night, he finds you still at your desk, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. “This isn’t sustainable,” he says, his voice firm but laced with concern. “You’re going to burn out if you keep pushing yourself like this.” His seriousness makes it hard to argue, but you wave him off, insisting you’re fine.

- The breaking point comes when you collapse during a training session. Scott rushes to your side, panic flashing across his usually composed face. “You’re not fine,” he says, his voice tight with worry. “You need to take care of yourself. You can’t keep doing this.” His frustration is evident, but so is his love.

- After that, Scott takes a more proactive approach. He adjusts your schedule, ensuring you have time to rest and recharge. He checks in with you regularly, bringing you meals and reminding you to hydrate. Though his methods can feel a bit overbearing, his intentions are always rooted in care.

- One evening, as you sit together on the couch, you finally admit how overwhelmed you’ve been. Scott pulls you into his arms, his hold steady and reassuring. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says softly. “We’re a team, and I’m here for you. Always.” His sincerity brings tears to your eyes, and you feel a weight lift off your shoulders.

- Scott’s support becomes a constant in your life, his quiet strength and unwavering dedication helping you find balance again. With him by your side, you feel like you can take on anything, knowing he’ll always be there to catch you when you stumble.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean notices your neglect almost instantly. Her psychic connection to you allows her to sense the subtle shifts in your emotions—the way your mind feels frazzled and your energy drained. She approaches you gently, her green eyes filled with concern as she asks, “Have you eaten today?” When you shake your head and brush her off, she doesn’t push, but you can tell she’s not satisfied.

- She starts taking small steps to ensure you’re cared for. She’ll float a sandwich or a glass of water to your desk while you’re working, her telekinesis a quiet reminder of her presence. When she sees you avoiding sleep, she’ll softly suggest turning in early, sometimes even staying awake with you to keep you company.

- One evening, Jean finds you in the kitchen staring blankly at an empty coffee cup. Her worry reaches a breaking point. “This isn’t just about being busy,” she says, placing her hand over yours. “You’re pushing yourself too hard, and I won’t let you burn out.” There’s no judgment in her voice, only love and determination.

- When you finally break down, admitting you’ve been overwhelmed and feel like you’re failing at everything, Jean pulls you into a warm embrace. Her psychic presence wraps around you like a soft blanket, calming your racing thoughts. “You’re not alone in this,” she murmurs. “Let me help carry the weight. That’s what love is for.”

- Jean starts creating little rituals to help you take care of yourself. She insists on morning coffee together, quiet evening walks, and regular check-ins where you both share your thoughts and feelings. Her calm, nurturing nature makes you feel safe, like you can breathe again.

- With her help, you begin to find balance. Jean’s love is steadfast and comforting, a reminder that you don’t have to face life’s challenges on your own. Her psychic connection becomes a lifeline, silently encouraging you to take care of yourself as she quietly supports you every step of the way.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Ororo notices something is wrong when your usually vibrant energy starts to dim. She’s intuitive and observant, picking up on the smallest signs—the slump in your shoulders, the hollow sound of your laughter. She approaches you one evening, her calm voice breaking the silence: “You’ve been neglecting yourself, haven’t you?”

- When you try to deny it, Ororo gives you a knowing look, her piercing blue eyes full of quiet authority. “You can’t lie to me, love. I see the storm you’re carrying inside you.” Her words are gentle but firm, and she begins to subtly guide you toward self-care without overwhelming you.

- One night, Ororo invites you to join her in the greenhouse. She hands you a watering can and encourages you to tend to the plants with her. As you work side by side, she talks softly about balance and how nature thrives when it’s nurtured. “You’re just as precious as these plants,” she says, her voice full of affection.

- When you finally admit how much you’ve been struggling, Ororo takes your hands in hers, her touch warm and grounding. “You’re not weak for needing help,” she tells you. “Even the strongest storms need time to rest and rebuild.” Her words hit you deeply, and you feel a weight lifting as you share your worries with her.

- Ororo begins incorporating moments of peace into your daily routine. She takes you on walks during sunrise, leads you in meditation sessions, and teaches you how to find solace in the quiet moments. Her serene presence becomes a beacon of calm in your chaotic life.

- With Ororo by your side, you start to feel whole again. Her love is like the rain—cleansing and rejuvenating, reminding you that even in the darkest times, there is beauty and renewal waiting just around the corner.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- Rogue isn’t the most subtle when she notices you’ve been neglecting yourself. She’s direct and to the point, her Southern drawl laced with concern as she says, “Sugar, when’s the last time you ate somethin’ that wasn’t outta a vending machine?” Her bluntness is her way of showing she cares, even if it catches you off guard.

- She doesn’t let the issue slide. Rogue starts showing up with home-cooked meals, setting them in front of you with a stern look. “Don’t make me spoon-feed ya,” she jokes, though there’s an edge of seriousness in her tone. Her care comes with a healthy dose of sass, but it’s impossible not to feel loved.

- When she catches you skipping sleep to work late, Rogue plants herself on the couch beside you, her arms crossed. “If you don’t lay down and rest, I’m gonna drag you to bed myself,” she warns. Her no-nonsense attitude is oddly comforting, making you realize she’s not going anywhere.

- One night, after you finally break down and admit how overwhelmed you’ve been, Rogue’s demeanor softens. She pulls you into a tight hug, careful not to touch you with her bare skin. “I know what it’s like to feel like you gotta carry it all, but you don’t have to, darlin’. I’m here, and I ain’t lettin’ you go through this alone.”

- Rogue starts actively looking for ways to lighten your load. She’ll take over small tasks, crack jokes to make you smile, and even pull you away from work for impromptu movie nights. Her mix of tough love and genuine affection becomes a lifeline for you.

- With Rogue in your corner, you feel stronger and more supported than ever. Her love is fierce and unwavering, a reminder that you’re never truly alone as long as she’s by your side.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik is not one to hover, but he’s perceptive enough to notice when you’ve been neglecting yourself. He watches you carefully, his piercing gaze full of unspoken concern. “You’re running yourself into the ground,” he finally says one evening, his voice low and serious. “This cannot continue.”

- When you try to brush him off, Erik’s frustration shows. “Do not insult my intelligence,” he says sharply, though there’s no malice in his tone. “I know you’re struggling. Why must you insist on facing this alone?” His words cut through your defenses, but they’re rooted in a deep care for you.

- Erik begins to intervene in his own way, using his powers to remove distractions and obstacles. He’ll levitate your work away from you, placing it out of reach with a raised eyebrow. “You can finish that later,” he says firmly. “Right now, you need to rest.”

- When you finally confess how overwhelmed you’ve been, Erik’s expression softens. He steps closer, his voice quiet but resolute. “I have spent a lifetime fighting for what I believe in, but nothing is more important to me than you. Do not think for a moment that you must bear this burden alone.”

- Erik becomes a steadfast presence in your life, offering both practical support and emotional comfort. He’ll prepare meals, insist on regular breaks, and hold you close when the weight of the world feels too heavy. His love is intense and protective, a force as unyielding as the metal he commands.

- With Erik’s unwavering support, you begin to find balance again. His love is a shield against the chaos, reminding you that even the strongest among us need someone to lean on. In his arms, you feel safe, cherished, and whole.

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Hank notices your habits immediately—your distracted demeanor, the hollow tone in your voice, the faint shadows under your eyes. Ever the scientist, he doesn’t bring it up outright but quietly observes. “Have you had any sustenance today?” he asks casually, his blue eyes studying you carefully. When you deflect with a vague answer, he hums knowingly but doesn’t press—yet.

- The next day, you find yourself gently cornered in the lab as Hank casually sets down a plate of food next to you. “I’m aware of your penchant for neglecting basic human needs under stress,” he says with a slight smile. “So, humor me and eat this while we talk.” His concern is masked with light humor, but you feel his genuine worry behind every word.

- One evening, after you nearly pass out from exhaustion, Hank’s patience wears thin. “Enough,” he says firmly, his normally gentle tone sharp. “You’re not a machine, and I won’t allow you to treat yourself as such.” His words hit harder than you expect, and his disappointment feels like a heavy weight.

- When you finally break down, confessing that you feel like you can’t stop or everything will fall apart, Hank pulls you into a surprisingly tender embrace. “You are not an island, my dear,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to face everything alone. Let me be your foundation when the ground feels unsteady.”

- From that day forward, Hank becomes your fiercest advocate for self-care. He insists on regular meals and sleep schedules, even developing a playful system of reminders with your favorite quotes or jokes to lighten the mood. His support feels like a lifeline, steady and comforting.

- With Hank’s love and guidance, you learn to value yourself as much as he values you. His steady presence and unwavering care remind you that balance is essential, and you’re never truly alone as long as he’s by your side.

Piotr Rasputin aka. Colossus

- Piotr is gentle and observant by nature, so he notices your struggles quickly. When you skip meals or overwork yourself, his brow furrows with quiet concern. “My love,” he says softly, his Russian accent warm and soothing, “when did you last take a moment for yourself?”

- At first, he tries subtle nudges—leaving water by your desk, offering to cook meals together, suggesting walks to clear your mind. When these hints go unnoticed, Piotr decides to take a more direct approach. One evening, he lifts you effortlessly and carries you to the kitchen, setting you down with a warm smile. “Now, we eat.”

- Piotr’s breaking point comes when he finds you passed out from exhaustion. His steel exterior reflects his internal turmoil as he carries you to bed, sitting beside you until you wake. “You push yourself too hard,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “You do not need to prove anything to me—or anyone. You are enough as you are.”

- When you finally open up about feeling like you can’t afford to slow down, Piotr listens intently, his large hands gently holding yours. “I understand what it means to feel burdened,” he says. “But strength is not just enduring. It is knowing when to lean on those who love you.”

- From then on, Piotr takes it upon himself to help you find balance. He plans quiet evenings with books and art, prepares your favorite meals, and insists on taking over tasks when you’re overwhelmed. His unwavering care feels like a protective shield around you, keeping the chaos at bay.

- With Piotr’s love and steadfast support, you begin to feel whole again. His patience and kindness teach you that caring for yourself is not weakness but strength, and his presence becomes a source of peace in your life.

Emma Frost aka. The White Queen

- Emma is not one for subtlety, so when she notices you neglecting yourself, she calls you out immediately. “Darling, when was the last time you ate something that wasn’t coffee?” she asks, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised. Her tone is sharp, but her concern is evident beneath the cool exterior.

- At first, she approaches the situation with her usual no-nonsense attitude, dropping off meals and reminders as if it’s part of a business transaction. “Eat this. Sleep at least six hours. Hydrate. It’s not rocket science,” she quips, but you catch the flicker of worry in her piercing blue eyes.

- One evening, when she finds you working late into the night, Emma decides enough is enough. She strides into the room, telepathically shutting down your laptop with a smirk. “You’ll thank me later,” she says, her voice softer than usual. “You’re running yourself ragged, and I won’t stand for it.”

- When you finally admit you’ve been overwhelmed, Emma’s demeanor shifts. She places a hand on your shoulder, her touch surprisingly gentle. “You’re not invincible,” she says, her tone uncharacteristically tender. “Even diamonds need care to maintain their brilliance. You are no exception.”

- Emma takes a proactive role in helping you find balance, using her sharp intellect and connections to ease your workload. She also insists on luxurious self-care days, dragging you to spas or planning lavish evenings to remind you of your worth. Beneath her icy exterior lies a fiercely protective heart.

- With Emma’s unwavering confidence in you, you start to see yourself through her eyes—strong, capable, and deserving of care. Her love is a blend of tough love and indulgent comfort, reminding you that self-worth is as important as any task at hand.

Bobby Drake aka. Iceman

- Bobby notices your neglect through your behavior—the way you brush off his jokes or seem too tired to engage with his usual antics. “Hey, you okay?” he asks casually, but his tone is laced with concern. When you shrug him off, he doesn’t push, but he starts paying closer attention.

- At first, Bobby tries to help in his own playful way, slipping snacks onto your desk or cracking jokes about needing to stage an intervention. “Don’t make me freeze your coffee until you eat something,” he teases, though his grin can’t quite hide the worry in his eyes.

- One day, when he finds you asleep at your desk, Bobby’s joking demeanor drops. He gently shakes you awake, his expression serious. “This isn’t funny anymore,” he says quietly. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. It hurts me to see you like this.”

- When you finally open up about how overwhelmed you’ve been, Bobby listens intently, his usual humor replaced with genuine care. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says, his hand warm on your shoulder. “I’ve got your back, no matter what. Let me help, okay?”

- Bobby becomes your biggest cheerleader, finding creative ways to make self-care fun. He’ll freeze your water bottles into cute shapes, plan impromptu dance breaks, or drag you out for ice cream dates to remind you to take a breather. His lightheartedness feels like a balm to your stress.

- With Bobby’s love and unwavering support, you begin to find joy in the small moments again. His ability to make you smile, even on the hardest days, reminds you that life is about more than just work. Together, you learn to face challenges with a little more humor and a lot more heart.

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daeniradraconis · 19 hours ago

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I was thinking of a request with one of the hughes brothers (your choice!! I cannot choose between them) x reader who works for the team in some capacity, where reader gets injured by a stray puck or something and their love interest totally outs himself by caring for/being protective over reader.

Obviously only if you think this is interesting!! Love your stuff!

Thank you for requesting! 💖 Hope you will like this as well.

Secrets and Slapshots Being the Devils’ photographer had its perks. You got to stand on the ice, snap the team’s best moments, and—most importantly—spend extra time with Luke Hughes. Not that anyone knew why that mattered. You and Luke had kept your relationship a secret for seven months, a choice born of practicality (dating a player while working for the team? Tricky) and a bigger, messier reason: your older brother, Curtis Lazar. Protective was an understatement. If Curtis found out you were with Luke—the youngest Hughes brother, no less—heads would roll. So you stuck to sneaky glances, stolen moments, and hushed talks behind closed doors.

It worked. Until it didn’t.

You were by the boards during practice, camera raised, framing a shot of Nico roofing a puck when—BAM. A rogue slapshot rocketed toward you, too fast to dodge. Pain exploded in your shoulder, sharp and blinding, the force slamming you back into the boards. You stumbled, vision blurring, a choked gasp escaping as your arm went limp, fingers buzzing with static. Your camera dangled from its strap, barely gripped in your good hand. Nausea surged, and you pressed your palm to your shoulder, trying to breathe through it.

The rink went quiet, then erupted.

“OH SHIT—”

“YO, YOU GOOD?”

Dawson Mercer skated next to you, panic etched on his face. “I didn’t mean to—I swear—”

Before you could respond, a furious shout cut through. “WHO THE HELL HIT HER?”

Your stomach dropped. Luke.

You looked up just in time to see him charging across the ice, stick tossed aside, eyes blazing.

“Ohhh, shit,” Jack muttered nearby. He knew his brother rarely got angry, but when he did, it never ended well.

“Luke, no—”

Too late. Luke’s fist crashed into Dawson’s jaw with a sharp crack, the sound cutting through the air. Dawson’s head jerked to the side, his body stumbling back as his hands flew up on instinct. For a second, he just stood there, blinking, dazed—like his brain hadn’t fully registered the hit yet.

“BRO, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT—”

“YOU HIT HER WITH A PUCK—” Luke’s voice trembled, fists still tight.

“IT WASN’T ON PURPOSE—”

“DOESN’T MATTER—”

Jack, Nico, and Bas lunged, grabbing Luke’s jersey as he strained toward Dawson, wild and unhinged.

“DUDE,” Jack groaned, wrestling him back. “Chill—”

“NO,” Luke snapped, still fighting against his teammates and brother’s hold. “HE HIT MY GIRLFRIEND—”

And then everything stopped.

Your heart slammed into your ribs. Girlfriend. Seven months of secrecy, gone in one furious outburst. You wanted to sink through the ice, but the way Luke stood there—chest heaving, daring anyone to step up—stirred something warm beneath the shock.

Jack’s jaw dropped. “Wait—YOU’RE DATING HER?”

Luke’s face went crimson. “I—uh—” He instantly knew he’d messed up.

Jesper skated closer, laughing hard. “Dude, you just outed yourself.”

“I hate all of you,” Luke muttered, dragging a hand over his face.

Jack smirked at you, eyebrows raised. “Damn, took a puck to the shoulder and you’re dating Luke? Talk about bad decisions.”

You rolled your eyes, pain slicing through as you tried to laugh. “Thanks for the concern.”

Luke was beside you in a flash, hands hovering, unsure where to touch. “Baby,” he said, voice low and thick with guilt. “Does it hurt badly?”

“Yeah,” you gritted out. “Like hell.”

His shoulders tensed, eyes darting to Dawson with barely-leashed anger. “I’m gonna—”

“Luke.” You grabbed his hand with your good one, squeezing weakly. “Accident happens. Breathe.”

But before Luke could get a word out, a sharp whistle cut through the air.

"What the hell is going on?"

Great. Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse.

Here came your worst nightmare—your brother, Curtis.

Your stomach sank as he skated over, gaze flicking between you, Luke, and Dawson—still rubbing his jaw, half-guilty, half-amused.

“Someone explain why Hughes punched Mercer,” Curtis demanded, voice edged with steel.

Luke straightened, completely unfazed. “He hit her with a puck. She’s hurt.”

Curtis’ eyes softened briefly as they landed on you, cradling your arm. “You okay?”

“It hurts,” you admitted, wincing, though you forced a smile for your brother.

His jaw ticked. Then he turned to Luke. “So you thought swinging was the move?”

“Yeah,” Luke said, his voice casual but there was something sharp in the way he spoke—like he didn’t quite understand why Curtis was making this harder than it had to be.

Curtis stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he sized up Luke. The anger in his chest flared, but it was something else that was settling in—he knew. He’d pieced it together, the secret clicking into place. He just needed to hear Luke say it. “Why do you care so much, Hughes? What’s she to you?”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Luke said, his tone firm, yet there was an undeniable fierceness behind it as he locked eyes with your brother. “And I love her.”

The tension in the air grew heavy, thick, like the calm before a storm. In the distance, you could hear the guys muttering, probably betting on how long it’d take for things to escalate—whether Luke would end up with at least a bruise or if he’d walk away unscathed.

Curtis blinked, his gaze flicking between you and Luke as the weight of the words sunk in. You held your breath, your heart pounding, bracing yourself for the worst.

Before you could process it, Curtis lunged.

It was all instinct—your body moving faster than your mind. You stepped between them just as Curtis’s hands shot out, the force of his momentum catching you off guard. His palms slammed into your injured shoulder with a sickening crack.

Pain exploded through your body, white-hot and blinding. A sharp cry ripped from your throat as you hit the ice, your arm going completely useless beneath you.

The rink went deadly quiet again.

Luke saw red. Pure, unfiltered rage took over as he shoved Curtis back with a force that sent him stumbling. His voice was raw, furious. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!.”

Curtis froze, his anger melting into something like shock as he looked down at you, crumpled on the ice. “Shit.”

Luke didn’t give him a second to recover. He took another step forward, fists trembling but unwavering, his voice low and lethal. “You wanna take a swing at me? Fine. But don’t you ever, ever touch her again.”

His words rang with a fierce conviction. “I love her, Curtis. Seven months, man. Seven months, and she’s the best thing in my life. I’ve been respectful for her sake—because I get it, you’re her brother, my teammate. But if you hurt her again, I swear to God, I’ll break your fucking hand.”

Curtis stared, his expression flickering between anger, guilt, and something else, something more vulnerable. After a long pause, he let out a slow breath. “It wasn’t on purpose. You know I’d never hurt her like that. I love her too…she’s my sister.” His voice cracked, and his gaze fell to you, still lying on the ice.

Luke didn’t soften. He wasn’t backing down. His fists remained clenched, his chest rising and falling with the force of his words. “I get it, Curtis. You’re protective. But if you hurt her again, I won’t hesitate to make you understand, just how far I’ll go to protect her.”

You tried to push yourself up, desperate to get Luke’s attention, but your shoulder flared with pain, and your vision swam. “Luke—”

His fury vanished under a minute, replaced by panic. He dropped to his knees beside you, hands hovering. “Baby, talk to me.”

Tears stung your eyes as you tried to speak. “It’s... bad.”You attempted to move your hand, but it didn’t respond at all, sending a wave of panic crashing through you.

“Okay, I got you.” He scooped you up, careful but firm, holding you close to his chest. “Team doc. Now.”

As Luke carried you off the ice, Curtis stood frozen, watching in silence. His gaze was hard to read—maybe respect, maybe regret—but something in his eyes shifted, betraying a hint of emotion.

—

The ride home was quiet, just the hum of the car and Luke’s soft “You okay?” whenever you winced. The doctor had strapped your arm into a sling—nasty bruise, minor strain, no fracture—but the ache still gnawed deep. Luke had insisted on driving, knuckles white on the wheel, worry carved into his face.

Now, in your apartment, the adrenaline has faded, leaving you exhausted. You leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Luke set down takeout bags he’d grabbed despite your lack of hunger.

“You holding up?” His voice was softer now. His dark green eyes met yours, searching, full of both tenderness and concern.

“Yeah,” you lied, managing a small smile. “I’m just tired. And my shoulder is killing me.”

He stepped closer, wrapping you in a gentle hug. “You should’ve let Curtis hit me.” A half-joke, but guilt shadowed his gaze.

You laughed, then winced as the movement jolted you. “Luke, stop. I’m okay.”

“You’re not,” he said, his voice leaving no room for debate. “Come on, let’s get you comfortable.”

He gently guided you to the couch, his hand warm on your lower back, and carefully eased you down. He fluffed the pillows, draped a blanket over your legs, and made sure you were comfortable. It was Luke, completely unguarded—raw with worry, soft with love—and it wrapped around you in a way that made the pain seem distant.

“Soup,” he said, heading to the kitchen. “You need food before the meds kick in.”

You didn’t argue, and honestly, you didn’t really want to. You weren’t hungry, but the thought of warm soup didn’t sound half bad.

Half an hour later, after a few spoonfuls—Luke holding the bowl because your good hand wasn’t enough—you felt the weight of helplessness settle in. Brushing your teeth, washing your face, taking a shower—things that used to be so simple now felt impossible. A lump caught in your throat.

Luke noticed the shift in your mood. “What’s wrong?” He set the bowl down on the coffee table, leaning in, his concern obvious.

You hesitated, a tired smile flickering across your lips. “I can’t move my arm. At all. I feel gross from practice, but…” You waved vaguely toward the bathroom, a bit embarrassed.

His eyes softened as he caught on. “You need help showering.” It wasn’t a question—just a simple fact.

“Yeah,” you muttered, a small laugh slipping through.

He rubbed the back of his neck, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “I can help. If you’re okay with it. I just don’t want you to make it worse.”

You couldn’t help but tease. “Yeah, it shouldn’t be weird. We’ve already... you know...” You trailed off, awkwardly trying to convince both yourself and him. Still, the situation felt different—vulnerable, exposed.

He cleared his throat, his blush deepening. “Alright, let’s get this over with,” he said, offering his hand, clearly trying to hide the discomfort.

The bathroom quickly filled with steam as Luke adjusted the shower to just the right temperature. He stripped off his clothes first, then turned to you, his gaze steady but gentle. You pulled at your hoodie with your good hand, and he stepped in, carefully sliding it off—first your good arm, then easing it over the sling. Next came your shirt, followed by your bra, sweatpants, and panties. His fingers brushed your skin with quiet confidence, his touch gentle and reassuring.

“I’ve got you,” he said, guiding you into the shower. The water hit your back, and you sighed, tension easing slightly. He grabbed the showerhead, letting the stream glide over you, avoiding your bad shoulder.

“Too much?” His voice was low, careful.

“No. Feels good.”

He squeezed body wash into his hands, lathering it up, and started at your neck, fingers gentle but sure. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I keep seeing that puck hit you,” he murmured against your hair. “Should’ve been faster.”

“You can’t stop everything,” you said, tilting your head to meet his eyes. “But you’re here now and that’s enough.”

He kissed your temple agin, soft and tender, before his hands moved down your back, the warmth of the water mixing with the steadiness of his touch. His fingers glided over your skin as he worked the soap down your spine. "Turn for me," he whispered, his voice low and soothing, his hands resting lightly on your hips, guiding you with quiet strength.

You turned slowly, your back now facing him, and as you did, you felt his lips brush against the back of your neck, the kiss lingering just a moment longer than usual. His hands were gentle, but there was an undeniable tenderness in the way he moved, as though he was cherishing every inch of you.

“You’re so strong,” he murmured, rinsing you off, his hand gently shielding your eyes as he worked shampoo through your hair. “But let me take care of you, alright? Don’t try to be tough for me. If you need anything, just ask. Okay, princess?”

You relaxed against him, giving him a small nod and a soft smile, the pain fading as his warmth surrounded you.

When he was done, he wrapped you in a towel, pressing a quick kiss to your head. “All clean,” he said, his voice filled with love and gentleness.

He grabbed one of his Devils shirts, the one he’d left in your wardrobe ages ago—loose enough to accommodate the sling—and a pair of your pajama shorts, dressing you with the same careful attention. Once he finished, he wrapped a towel around his waist. Luke hated sleeping with anything on, so he didn't bother with boxers—he preferred to sleep completely bare. And you definitely didn’t mind one bit.

Once you were settled, he walked over to the sink, a playful grin spreading across his face as he held up a toothbrush. “Open,” he said, his voice teasing but soft.

You rolled your eyes but complied, letting him brush your teeth—clumsy but full of enthusiasm. “Sorry,” he chuckled when he accidentally bumped your lip, his hand instinctively steadying you at your hip.

Then came the skincare routine—toner, serum, moisturizer—and Luke looked utterly baffled. He picked up the toner and held it out, squinting at the bottle. “Wait, so you actually need all of this?” he asked, genuinely confused. “But you’re already, like, ridiculously pretty. Why all the extra steps?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “It’s not just about looking pretty, Luke. It’s about healthy skin and preventing wrinkles.”

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing at his lips. “Well, you'd still look hot with wrinkles, you know.”

You giggled, kicking your legs as you sat on top of the washing machine, where he’d placed you after brushing your teeth. “I don’t know about that,” you teased, enjoying the playful energy between you two.

Luke just shrugged with a grin, clearly unconvinced. But he didn't argue. Instead, he got to work with the precision of someone who had no idea what he was doing but was determined to get it right. He carefully applied each product—toner, serum, moisturizer—treating it like a delicate task, though still clearly puzzled by the whole process.

“Good?” he asked, stepping back with a gentle smile, his eyes searching for yours.

“Perfect,” you murmured, feeling the warmth of his care in every word.

He kissed your forehead softly, taking a deep breath as his fingers grazed your healthy arm. “Bedtime?”

You nodded, already feeling the pull of exhaustion. “Yeah,” you whispered.

He tucked the blanket around you, his movements slow and deliberate as he slid in next to you, propping himself on one elbow, watching you settle against the pillow. His hand brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, his gaze tender.

“Lukey,” you murmured, half-asleep, “Thank you.”

He smiled softly, his fingers brushing your cheek slowly. “Anything for you. Even if Jack’s never going to let me live this down.”

You smiled, your face relaxing into the comfort of his touch, curling closer to him. “Worth it,” you whispered, feeling the weight of his love wrap around you.

He kissed your knuckles lightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, you are.”

#luke hughes #jack hughes #curtis lazar #lh43 #new jersey devils #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfic #nhl imagine #hughes brothers

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pinkchwrryyy · 5 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐒𝐃 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 (●’◡’●)ﾉ

✦𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: Bungou Stray Dogs

✦𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Dazai Osamu x Afab! reader

✦𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭: You’ve just got home from a very tiring day at the Agency when you see someone sprawled onto the couch, and that someone is, of course, your colleague Osamu Dazai.

✦𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: one-shot, prompt

✦𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, hurt/comfort

✦𝐓𝐖: none

✦𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: none

⚠️𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭⚠️

You are my new pillow!

Yokohama at night always had a certain charm to it—the streets quieter, the neon lights casting a soft glow over the sidewalks, and the occasional sound of a distant car cutting through the stillness. It was moments like these that you found peace, when the city’s usual chaos dimmed to a low hum, giving you a chance to catch your breath.

After another long day of working alongside the Armed Detective Agency, you were thankful to finally get some rest. The latest case had been exhausting, a wild chase involving rogue ability users, more than a few close calls, and—of course—Dazai Osamu’s endless antics.

As you walked back to your small apartment, your mind wandered to the enigmatic man who had become a constant presence in your life. Dazai was… difficult to pin down. He was brilliant, yes, but also frustrating beyond belief. One minute, he was solving a life-or-death situation with calculated precision, and the next, he was trying to coax you into some absurd suicide pact, wearing that maddeningly charming smile of his.

But despite his quirks—perhaps because of them—he had grown on you. There was a sadness beneath the surface that you couldn’t ignore, a darkness he hid behind jokes and flirtation. And somewhere along the line, you had started to care for him more than you ever intended.

Your thoughts were interrupted as you reached your door. With a tired sigh, you unlocked it, stepping inside the familiar warmth of your home. You flipped on the lights, planning to head straight to your bed for some well-deserved sleep.

But as you took off your coat and walked into the living room, you froze.

There, sprawled out on your couch like he owned the place, was Dazai Osamu.

His coat was draped lazily over the armrest, his dark hair tousled as if he had just woken up from a nap. One arm was thrown over his eyes, while the other rested against his chest. He looked completely at ease, as though he had been waiting for you.

“Dazai!” you exclaimed, startled by his sudden appearance. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

Without bothering to lift his arm, Dazai replied in a lazy, sing-song voice, “Ahh, you’re finally home. Took you long enough.”

You glared at him, even though you knew by now that he was impossible to stay mad at for long. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

He peeked out from beneath his arm, flashing you a playful grin. “I got bored, so I let myself in. You weren’t home, and the couch looked so comfortable. I couldn’t resist.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. “You can’t just break into people’s homes, Dazai.”

“I didn’t break in. You gave me a spare key, remember?”

“That was for emergencies,” you shot back. “Not for you to use whenever you feel like taking a nap on my couch.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, finally sitting up and stretching his arms above his head. “Well, in my defense, it was an emergency. I was exhausted after today’s mission, and I needed a place to rest my weary head.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “And what exactly was wrong with your own place?”

Dazai gave you a sly smile, his brown eyes glinting with mischief. “Your couch is much more comfortable than mine. Plus, it’s closer to you.”

That last comment made your heart skip a beat, though you tried not to show it. Instead, you huffed, walking over to the couch and pushing his legs aside so you could sit down. “If you’re going to be here, at least don’t take so much space.”

Dazai’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he shifted his position, moving closer to you until his head rested comfortably on your lap. “Ah, I see. You just want an excuse to stay closer to me?”

“Actually, no,” you said, though the blush creeping up your neck betrayed you. “I want you to stop using my apartment as your own.”

He chuckled softly, making himself more comfortable by nuzzling into your lap. “Too late. You are now officially my new pillow.”

You stared down at him, half exasperated and half amused. He had closed his eyes again, a contented smile playing on his lips as if he had just won some unspoken battle. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, and the shadows of the dim living room light accentuated his sharp features. There was a strange serenity in his expression, one that you rarely saw in him—like for once, he wasn’t trying to hide behind his usual mask.

For a brief moment, you let yourself relax, your fingers absentmindedly running through his hair. You had no idea how this had become your life—sitting in your apartment with Dazai Osamu using you as a pillow—but somehow, it didn’t feel wrong. In fact, it felt nice.

“So, is this what you had planned for the evening?” you asked, your voice softer now, teasing but genuine.

“Mmm,” Dazai hummed, his eyes still closed. “I didn’t have any specific plans, but this is much better than what I could’ve come up with.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he replied with a lazy grin.

For a few minutes, neither of you spoke, the comfortable silence only broken by the occasional sound of the city outside. It was strange how natural this felt—being here with him, his head resting on your lap as if it were the most normal thing in the world. There was no pretense, no need for words. Just the quiet understanding that came with spending time together.

But as the peaceful silence stretched on, you couldn’t help but wonder what was really going through Dazai’s mind. He was always so guarded, always keeping people at arm’s length. Yet here he was, allowing himself to be vulnerable, if only for a moment.

“Dazai,” you began hesitantly, your fingers still gently combing through his hair, “why did you really come here tonight?”

For a long moment, he didn’t respond. You thought he might ignore the question or deflect with another joke, but when he finally spoke, his voice was softer than before.

“Because sometimes… it’s nice to be around someone who doesn’t expect anything from you,” he murmured, his eyes still closed. “Someone who lets you be… just you.”

His words caught you off guard, and you felt a tightness in your chest. You had always sensed that Dazai carried more weight than he let on, that beneath his playful exterior was a man burdened by his own demons. But hearing him admit it—admit that he sought out your presence for comfort—made your heart ache for him.

“Well,” you said quietly, “you don’t have to pretend with me.”

Dazai opened his eyes, looking up at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. For a moment, the playful mask slipped away entirely, and you saw the loneliness in his gaze. It was fleeting—gone as quickly as it appeared—but it was enough to remind you that, beneath it all, Dazai Osamu was just as human as anyone else.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he closed his eyes again, his voice returning to its usual playful tone. “Good. Because I fully intend to keep using you as my pillow.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Of course you do.”

But even as you laughed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this moment than either of you were willing to admit.

And as Dazai settled in your lap, content and at peace, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—you had become something more than just a comfortable pillow to him.

#dazai osamu #bsd #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #dazai x you #oneshot #writing prompt #fluff #comfort

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sanguineterrain · 7 months ago

Note

Hiii i love your writing SO much💕, you're so good with the characterization of the boys it's crazy. I was wondering if I could request a second part of your dick x assistant fic?

thanks sm! i surely can deliver a 2nd part of these two :3 pt 2 to this.

dick grayson x gn!rogue!reader. flirting, canon typical violence, reader being a brat teehee! all fics are rb to @sanguinelibrary

****

This coffee shop is packed.

Normally, you'd say 'fuck it' and just go without caffeine. But you've stayed late for three nights in a row, and Bruce requested coffee ten minutes ago.

And because you work for the local billionaire, you have to buy from the expensive, organic, ridiculously priced coffee shop across town.

The cashier looks up. "Next?"

You step forward in relief, opening your mouth to recite the order you memorized a year ago, when a man cuts you off.

Oh, hell no.

"Hey, what the hell is your problem?" you ask, patience finally snapping. The four people behind you also express their anger at the offending cutter.

He turns around, and suddenly you're looking into blue, blue eyes. Dick smiles apologetically.

"Sorry." He turns. "Sorry, everyone! Everyone's coffee is on me."

That soothes the line completely, and a few even clap. You, however, are unamused.

"I've never seen you in this coffee shop," you say, folding your arms as Dick gets out his wallet.

"Really? I'm here all the time," he says easily. He points to you. "I'll order for them as well."

God. He thinks he can just flash his pretty smile and have you eating out of his—

"...And can I get that with no foam? Thank you," Dick says, finishing the order. He pulls out his card. "D'you mind if I pay ahead for everybody here in line?"

The cashier, predictably, is absolutely dazzled by Gotham's pretty prince, their eyes big and awed. They nod as Dick puts four fifty dollar bills in the tip jar.

"I just wanna say that that was so great, what you did for those kids in the hospital last week," the cashier says. "I live in Blüdhaven, and you're definitely our hero. I mean, wow. Between you and me? You outshine your dad, too."

Dick laughs and hands them another fifty. "Well, someone's gotta keep him sharp, right? You have a good day, okay?"

You stand there blankly until someone behind you says, "You gonna move or what?"

Gotham. City of manners.

You leave the line and walk to the pick-up area, where Dick is chatting with another customer. Good God.

"What was that?" you ask, not caring if you're interrupting.

The lady chatting up Dick begins to protest, but Dick quickly soothes her, apologizing profusely. She leaves.

Dick turns to you, cocking his head. "Hi. What was what?"

"I had to order Mr. Wayne's coffee, too. And mine! What did you even order?"

"I got both of yours," Dick says. He holds out a brown pastry bag. "And I got you a white chocolate raspberry muffin."

"I hate those," you lie.

Dick's face falls, crinkling the bag. "Oh. I thought... uh, sorry. Someone said you..."

You're suddenly hyper-aware of what a jerk you're being. What has Dick done to you, besides be a nice guy?

It's just... you know you should be wary. No guy is this nice and polite and pays for coffee and compliments your laptop stickers and laughs at your jokes and doesn't also have a secret. Dick probably goes American Psycho on the weekends, or does pig's blood sacrifices in his basement. Rich people are weirdos.

He did buy you coffee, though. And a muffin.

"Actually. Sorry. I, uh, thought you said something else. I do like those. Thanks." You take the bag.

Dick perks up. "You're welcome."

You eat the muffin, mildly humiliated but extremely hungry.

"Order for Dick?"

The barista slides a cardboard cupholder with three drinks. He smiles at Dick.

"Hey, man. Nice to see ya! Thanks for the save."

Dick waves his hand. "No trouble at all, Darryl. Take care!"

"And how do you know him?" you ask, following Dick to the creamer station. "Or are you going to tell me it's because you're in here all the time even though I've never seen you here once?"

"Okay, you got me," Dick says, smiling sheepishly. "I don't come here. I know that guy 'cause I found his dog. And saved him from a mugging. Nice guy. He's getting married in November."

"He invited you to his wedding?"

"Yeah! Not sure if I can make it, though, which is too bad. They're having it at the Botanical Gardens. I've always wanted to go there."

"What—" You stop, looking down at the cups. One is Dick's iced caramel mocha, one is Bruce's hot black coffee, and the third is your exact order. "How do you know what I order?"

Dick shrugs. "Just noticed when you bring it to work."

You thought Dick couldn't say what he eats for breakfast, much less what you eat.

"Do you stalk me?" you ask.

"What, no! I don't stalk you. I'm just... observant."

"That's exactly what a stalker would say."

"I would never stalk you." Dick raises his right hand. "Scout's honor."

"I doubt you were ever a scout," you mumble, fixing your own drink.

"You're right. I actually got kicked out of Boy Scouts. I wanted to be a Girl Scout 'cause of the cookies. My little brother was a Scout, though. Got an Honor medal. Never let me forget it."

You turn from the counter, suddenly remembering your exasperation. "Mr. Grayson—"

"Dick! Or Dickie, if you prefer. Why won't you call me Dick?"

"Because it's unprofessional," you say frostily, sipping your drink. "You're my boss' son. And I'm not calling you Dickie."

Dick leans against the counter. "But we're friends now, remember?"

"I don't think I ever agreed to that."

"Pretty sure you did! I have an excellent memory."

You sigh. "Just—"

The TV blares loudly, 'Special Report' popping up on screen.

"And in a shocking turn of events, Brendon Sommer was found dead in his apartment this morning, just two days before his trial. D.A. Colson says this is a tragedy but insists that neither he nor the police suspect foul play. Sommer was a key eyewitness to the Maroni case..."

"What the fuck?" you burst.

No. No way. You had him.

Dick squints at the TV. "This doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah, no shit! Colson is fucking guilty! That had to come out in the trial!"

He raises his brows. "I... didn't know you were following this case so closely."

Shit. Too much. Dial it back.

You fold your arms. "No, I mean, I'm not. Well, I am, but... it's just that Sommer was an assistant, so it's personal to me. The lowest rungs on the ladder are always getting stuck in the shit."

Dick's eyes turn soft and sympathetic. "Yeah. That's true. He was only trying to protect his boss."

Fat lot of good that did him. Those Fortune 500 hotshots are all the same.

You wonder what Nightwing thinks of all of this. You're sure he's full of righteous fury at Sommer's death, but what good can that do? You were at least trying to stop more little people from getting stepped on.

"I have to go," you say, taking your drink. "I have, uh..."

"Work?" Dick offers.

"Yes. Right. Work." You nod. "Thanks for the... and the... you're really, um—you didn't have to—"

Dick grins. "It's no trouble at all. I'd buy you coffee every day if you'd let me."

Seriously, what is wrong with him?

You can't manage anything but an awkward wave in response, bumping into the shop door on your way out.

You're going to the coffee shop by your apartment next time. You doubt Bruce is lucid enough to know the difference.

****

Beeeeep! Beeeeeep! Beeeeeeeeep!

You wince as the museum alarm goes off. You have maybe two minutes before the cops get here. Inept as they are, you don't want to have to slip out of handcuffs.

Hopefully, he gets here before you...

"I thought stealing diamonds wasn't your thing."

Nightwing lands three feet away from you and the display case with the special ruby on display at the Gotham Museum.

The ruby that's now in your hand.

"It's not. Diamonds are overrated. Rubies, however..."

You toss him the ruby. Nightwing catches it one-handed.

"I don't..." He sighs. "Did you do this to get my attention?"

"Not like I can look you up in the phone book, Wing Ding," you say, strutting past him. "C'mon, we have about a minute before the cops show."

Nightwing grabs your arm. "I don't think so. I have you on two counts of breaking and entering and falsified evidence."

"Wing, baby, you'd have me even if I didn't do all that," you say, patting his arm. "And as much fun as it is to be apprehended by you, I can't play with you tonight. We have serious business."

He presses his lips together, and you watch him fight the battle between doing what's right and what's good.

He finally exhales through his nose and puts the ruby back. Which is fine. The diamond necklace you swiped before he came is safely in your pocket. Just because they're overrated doesn't mean you don't have rent to pay.

"Let's go," he says, stalking out of the museum.

You happily bounce after him. "Oh, Wing, I knew you liked me! Am I your favorite thief with a heart of gold? Be honest. I can tell when you're lying."

"You certainly keep things interesting," he says, leading you up a fire escape and onto a rooftop.

"Why, Wing," you say, skipping behind him. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. I'm choked! I'm touched!"

Nightwing stops and turns, hands on his hips.

"I don't feel good about letting you go, so start talking. What happened with Colson?"

You sober at the mention. "I swear, I don't know. He was supposed to be arrested. I laid it all out."

"You turned him to the cops?"

"Yes. I had no choice. Somebody didn't want to help me bring Colson in."

"The way you were doing it was illegal," Nightwing says.

"Yeah, well, Colson's free and Sommer's dead, so it doesn't really matter, does it?" you snap. "I couldn't even get Colson before killing Sommer."

Nightwing steps forward, frowning. "Hey. His death isn't your fault."

"No? Because I could've done anything to make sure Colson got what he deserves, and they got Sommer anyway."

You take a deep breath. You can't get worked up now. Nightwing is a resource you can use to get Colson.

"Why do you care so much about this case anyway?" he asks.

"Because Sommer gave everything, and he was still disposable. That's how all of us little folk are treated. We're just bricks in the wall."

Nightwing tilts his head. "You're including yourself in this analogy?"

Whoops. You shouldn't be giving personal information away. Dammit. How is he so good at putting your defenses down?

"Well, I do have a life outside of this, Wing."

"Really? I don't," he says, grinning.

"No? Not even a special someone?"

"Hm. No comment."

You try not to deflate at that. "Well, anyway, Colson needs to go down. He can't get away with this."

"The circumstances certainly implicate him. But we have no evidence that he was involved in Sommer's death."

You perk up. "We?"

A sigh. "I suppose we can work together, considering the time you've invested into this case. But I have rules," he says.

You grin. "Sure, Batboy. I'll go slow since it's your first time."

He ignores you. "My first rule is that you can't commit any more crimes."

"What!" you say. "But I'm so good at them!"

"Number two is that we have to do things my way, by the book. We can't rely on illegally-obtained evidence. I will help you with every resource I have, but we have to be good and honest about it."

"You're stifling me already, Golden Boy," you say, spinning around him. "Where's your sense of whimsy and joy?"

"I left it at home. Are we clear?"

You stop and heave a dramatic sigh.

"I guess. Are you really dating someone?"

Nightwing scoffs. "Is this you telling me that you're interested?"

"Well, yes. I can fight, by the way. I'll fight for you, babe."

He smiles. "Eh. They're feisty. They can probably fight better than you."

"Ouch! Who's this challenger? Can they promise a dowry of more than five goats and three cows?"

Nightwing laughs a real laugh. You beam at the sound.

"What would I do with goats and cows?" he asks.

"I dunno. Build a farm, I guess."

"I have to build a farm, too? Sounds like a lot of work."

"Marriage is hard work, Wing!"

"Sorry, my heart belongs to someone else."

"I'll court you, yet. I'm an excellent chef. I'll bring us grilled cheeses next time," you say.

He shakes his head, but his posture is relaxed. "You're unbelievable. Really. Criminal, but..."

"I reject the label of criminal. I prefer 'independent contractor.' Or 'director of joy and whimsy.'"

"Okay, Director. No more breaking into museums," he says.

"But how will I get your attention, O Wise and Beautiful?"

Nightwing gets close, breath fanning your cheek. His hand rests on your back. He tilts his head like he's... like he's gonna—

Your heart stutters.

"You've already got it," he murmurs, tongue resting between his teeth. "Meet me here on Friday. Oh, and..."

Nightwing holds up the diamond necklace you took on a single finger. Your eyes widen.

"How did you—"

He grins. "You wouldn't want these, anyway—they're overrated, remember?" Nightwing shoots his grappling gun to the opposite roof and swings away. "Have a good night!"

You watch as he disappears beyond the skyline. You try to muster anger or regret for getting caught and losing the diamonds, but you can't. If anything's criminal, it's that damn smile of his.

God. You are so screwed.

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #richard grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x yn #nightwing imagine #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fluff #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #nightwing fanfiction #nightwing x gender neutral reader #inbox #blurb

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shegotheruby · 1 month ago

Text

Make Him Jealous

“If i’m being honest..” Chan continues. “I always had this fantasy that she would see me with another girl and immediately feel jealous. I’d dream at night that I had this gorgeous date on my arm and she’d see me and take me back after that shockwave hit.”

You nod and make eye contact with him. “I’m quite familiar with that dream.”

“So let’s make it come true for both of us” He shrugs. “I’ll help you make this guy jealous like I never got the chance to. Maybe it won’t help, maybe he won’t care, but at the very least can I give you a ride home?”

Running into your cheating EX at a party was not on your bucket list for the night... But a surprise encounter with Lee Chan changes things around. What starts as making Mingyu jealous might end in something more...

WC: 11.3k

TW: SMUT. 18+ MDNI. implied/referenced cheating, alcohol, speed dating, fluff, college au, fluff, again.. smut.

“Jun! Hao!” You yelled over the sound of the party. “Where did Soonyoung go?”

“Not sure” Minghao replied in a daze, obviously focused on the sports match on TV.

“I think he’s with Chan” Jun replied, eyes also glued to the screen.

Not helpful. Firstly, you have no idea who Chan is, and Secondly, this house is massive. Without some help, it would take forever to find your best friend (and your sober driver, because let’s be honest, you’re tipsy). You wandered into the kitchen, weaving in and out of the couples slobbering all over each other in drunken makeouts. It made your heart hurt, seeing all of the happy people. Unfortunately for you, your Ex is here, and you’d rather escape before he tries to -god forbid- speak to you. So you continue on, making your way into the dining room and down the stairs.

You search the entire basement with no luck. He’s not in the main room playing beer pong, he’s not in the cinema room, and he’s definitely not in the bedroom (sorry Vernon…you definitely did not mean to walk in on a hookup). You wander back up to the main level, deciding to check the second story next. You check (more carefully this time) through the different bedrooms and bathrooms with no luck. You call out his name, but your friend is nowhere to be seen. You could go back downstairs, but what if you ran into Mingyu? He broke your heart and you’re not ready to see him with a new girl attached at the hip.

You swear under your breath before leaving the last bedroom, wandering over to an open window. You pop your head out and suck in a deep breath, the cold winter air biting at your nose. At least it didn’t smell like weed out here. A rogue tear escaped, rolling down your cheek, and you looked at your phone again, still no response to your texts. The window opens to a pretty flat roof, and against your better judgement, you decide to step out on it. More tears start to fall, and you realize that you’re not just teary, you’re full on crying. Images of Mingyu the day you broke up continue flashing through your mind, and all you want is to just get out of here. But your stupid friend is missing and your stupid roommate is out of town and you failed your stupid exam today and you didn’t want to come to this stupid party anyway and life just sucks.

You stumble a little in your buzzed state, but the ledge of the roof is feet away. You’re fine. You wander towards it, just hoping to get a good look at the party happening in the backyard. Maybe you’ll be able to spot Soonyoung from above! Genius! You wipe at your tears and step after step walk towards the edge.

But you don’t quite make it, because a strong pair of arms wraps around you and pulls you back against the wall of the house. “Don’t jump!” his voice says, a bit frantic. “There’s always another option!”

“what the fuck” you snap, shoving the stranger off of you. “I wasn’t going to jump!”

“Ok, sorry” he replies, putting his hands up in defense.

You take a moment to stare at each other in silence. You wipe another tear away and feel immediately awkward.

“I didn’t mean to assume…” He speaks slowly, “I just saw a crying girl approaching the edge of a roof…thought I should intervene.”

Reality hits you and you slump your shoulders.You slide down the wall, resting your head in your hands with a huff. “Oh my god.” you mutter. “I am actually a walking disaster.”

You rub at your temples as he stands next to you, looking a little shy. “Um…Are you okay?” he asks, Craning his neck so he’s in your line of vision.

You look over at him, embarrassed because you realize he’s like…really cute. He seems close to your age with shaggy blonde hair, a bit longer in the back. A style you like. He’s wearing an oversized jacket and blue ripped jeans.

“I’m fine. I just can’t find my ride home.”

He sits down next to you and lightly wraps his arms around bent knees.

“When did you see them last?”

“Honestly it’s been like a good hour or two.” you admit. “He wandered away when I was talking to an old friend and I haven’t seen him since. He won’t answer his phone either.”

You check your notifications again to see if Soonyoung has responded, and visibly slump more when there’s nothing.

“I can give you a ride if you want?” he offers, “I’m not drinking tonight.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Thanks but… I don’t know you…strange roof man.”

He chuckles. “Fair enough, strange roof girl. Lee Chan at your service.” He extends his hand forward in introduction.

Your eyes widen at the name. “You’re Chan!?” You ask, brain fog slowly clearing. “Someone said Soonyoung was with you earlier?”

He nods, surprised that you’ve heard his name before. “Uh yeah. He’s one of my buddies from Chem lab.”

“Do you know where he went?” You ask, suddenly hopeful that you can get out of here before Mingyu sees you.

“Unfortunately…If he’s your ride…I think he’s a bit indisposed at the moment…” his voice trails off.

“Damn it” you huff, beating your head against the wall behind you. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“If you think it means he’s half naked with two blondes in the pool-house right now” he gestures towards the building in the distance, “You’d be right.”

“two?” you furrow your brows again “asshole.” you mutter.

Chan’s eyes snap open and his voice raises in volume as he asks, “Shit, please tell me you’re not his date tonight?”

You nearly choke on a laugh “Oh my dear God, no.” you wipe away the last of your tears, thankful for the distraction from your pity party. “We’ve been friends since I was six. He’s like…my older brother.”

“Older?” Chan asks

“Yeah. I was born in 1999.”

“Me too!” He smiles. “I kind of assumed Hosh was my same age though.”

“No he’s just a dumbass who neglected to take his general science credits until Senior year.”

“Hmm” chan mumbles in thought. “The more you know…”

You can’t help but notice his side profile. (Not that it’s a good time to be thinking about that..but it’s nice. He’s got an attractive jawline…)

“Anyways” he changes the subject turning his body fully towards you. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” you sigh. “and i promise that i’m usually pretty put together and you caught me on a bad night.”

“Wanna talk about it?” He offers. “My rooftop lounge is open for therapy reservations.”

“Your rooftop lounge?”

“Yeah. This is my spot during every party. You wouldn’t believe how much fraternity hazing i’ve avoided by hiding out up here.”

You stifle a laugh..he’s kind of charming.

“It’s a good spot.” You survey the view.

He nods. “What brings you to it?”

“If you must know” you start, straightening out the wrinkles in your jeans. “My Ex is downstairs..and I haven’t seen him since I dumped him for cheating.”

“Ooooh”

You don’t have to look to see that he’s making one of those ‘yikes, i’m really sorry for you’ faces. So you don’t. You stare at your shoes.

“If it makes you feel any better…” He says, tapping your shoulder. “You look really good tonight so he’s probably regretting his decisions and feeling like a loser.”

Your cheeks blush rosy pink at the compliment.

“I actually don’t think he saw me at all” you sigh, pursing your lips. “I got one glance of him with a new girl and bolted to find Soonyoung.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see his face light up a bit. Like he has an idea.

“Well in that case you’ve got the upper hand.” He says nonchalantly.

“Huh?”

“Well if he didn’t see you…” he says, in a singsong voice “he doesn’t know you’re here without a date of your own.”

“But I am here without a date of my own…”

“What’s this guy’s name” he asks

“Mingyu…” You reply, still not following what he’s getting at.

He grins with heart-stopping charisma

“Great news! I’ve never met him. He’s never met me. Complete strangers. Want to be my date tonight?”

You scoff. “Chan, that’s really nice but…”

“Look.” He cuts you off. “Before you say no…”

You close your mouth and stare at him.

“To make a long story short: I got dumped a year ago. The girl cheated on me.”

“And she still was the one to dump you?” You question

“At the time I thought we were in love. I was infatuated and when I found out, I tried to fight for her anyways… she rejected me and chose the other guy.”

“What a bitch…”

“The sad thing is, even now, I wouldn’t say that.” he sighs. “it sucked. Like really, really bad. and I want to hate her. But they seem happier together than she ever seemed with me…so who am I to hold her back from that?”

you raise your eyebrows, surprised that this stranger is being so vulnerable with you. Maybe it’s just the roof vibes…?

“Rambling aside…It still hurt me really bad and you seem like a good girl who doesn’t deserve to go through that same feeling.”

“You don’t really know me.”

“I know Soonyoung. And anyone who has retained a friendship with him for a long period of time probably rocks.” He laughs, looking over at the poorhouse where your childhood best friend is probably doing filthy things.

You purse your lips.

You nod and make eye contact with him. “I’m quite familiar with that dream.”

He stands up, brushing his hands on his jeans before offering his hand out to you.

And what the hell. You take it.

***

After climbing back through the window, you pull him into one of the open bedrooms.

“OK. If we’re going on a fake date.”

“Real date” He interrupts. “I asked you to be my date and I plan on being very good to you.”

You chuckle. “Ok Mr. Chivalry. If we’re going on a date” (you emphasize that last word with a shake of your head), “I’d like to know more about you…speed dating with Chan.” You offer, sitting on the bed.

“I like this plan” he answers, sitting next to you. “Ask me anything. Rapid fire.”

“Okay. Major?”

“Dance.”

“Minor?”

“Two. Audio Production and Music Theory.”

You’re impressed.

“Favorite Song?”

“Beat It by Michael Jackson.”

“Astrological Sign?”

“Aquarius”

“MBTI?”

“ESTJ.”

“What’s your type?”

“You.”

“Ok so you’re a flirt. noted.”

He chuckles and brushes his shoulder against yours. “I never said that.”

“I’m good at making logical conclusions” you report.

“Whatever.” he laughs. “What’s your type then?”

“Cute guys who save me from jumping off the roof.” You smirk, avoiding the real answer which might also be…. him.

“Aww” he touches his heart “You think I’m a hero, and you think i’m cute!?”

You copy his comeback “I never said that.” (except he’s totally your hero right now…and yes…he’s totally cute).

He shakes his head. “Next question. Favorite drink.”

“Let’s answer on three” you offer.

“Deal.”

“1…2…3… Strawberry Soju”

“Strawberry Soju specifically out of a BTS themed shot glass that I got for my 21st birthday!”

You actually buckle over in laughter. “Oh my god, Chan you’re a charmer.” You push his shoulder, standing up from the bed. “Where have you been all my life.”

“In your dreams, sweetheart.” He answers, putting his arm around your shoulder. “Speed Date officially concluded. Ready to go find this Ex?”

You nod and open the bedroom door, for the first time this evening, feeling pretty confident.

The stairs are crowded, and Chan keeps his arm around you as you squeeze around the people trying to come up or down. After almost falling over he slides it down so it’s around your waist instead of your shoulders, keeping you upright. You throw a thankful glance over your shoulder and continue down until you reach the main party. He keeps his hand securely planted, lightly brushing your skin where your shirt is cropped. More than a couple of guys greet Chan as you pass by and you realize that he’s actually pretty popular. He seems to know everyone. (except for Mingyu, thank god), and everyone seems to like his presence.

At one point you find yourself in the backyard, dancing to some music by the pool. Chan is talking lightly with some other people, one of them introduced himself but you already forgot his name. You’re just enjoying the moment, swaying to the music with your eyes closed, Chan’s arm holding you up. Somehow, you don’t even notice the reason you’re doing this (Mingyu) on the other end of the yard, but he noticed you.

You don’t notice the jealous look on his face, the way his fists ball up at his sides. You completely miss the affect you clearly still have on him, because you’re wrapped up in your own little world. You miss the way he spills beer down his shirt, mumbling a few curse words before turning away, retreating inside to get away from you.

Some things you DO notice: Chan has an award winning smile. He’s charismatic with the groups of people passing by, and has a “secret handshake” with one of his frat brothers. Despite the fact that you just met, he looks at you like he knows you. He includes you in the conversation when he can and never leaves your side. He dances with you when the music grows in volume, and he’s good at it.

You notice that his neutral face has soft lips that slightly curl into a smile even when he’s not trying. He has an infectious laugh and you don’t really care about making Mingyu jealous anymore. In fact, you don’t really care about Mingyu at all. Or Soonyoung, for that matter. You find yourself feeling grateful that you stumbled into this guy and pray he’s not a drunken hallucination.

At one point the host of the party, Seungkwan, greets Chan with a hug and thanks him for coming. He introduces himself to you and asks if you guys want something to drink. Chan declines, saying that he’s your ride home, but asks for him to grab you some Strawberry Soju.

you glance up at him with a smile “aww, you know me so well.”

“Well we had a very informative first date, I’ve got to start remembering these things.”

“You’re dating?” Seungkwan asks

“Long and complicated story.” You click your tongue. “But we are on a date at the moment, yes.”

You roll your eyes, turning towards Seungkwan. “This is really random…but do you happen to have any special shot glasses?”

Seungkwan’s face lights up in surprise. “Dino. Dude. You told a girl about frat glass?”

“I did not!” He defends. “OK I kind of did…but not like that. It kind of just slipped out.”

“Well now I have questions” you giggle, “Starting with Dino and ending with…frat glass?” your eyebrow raises at that last part.

“If anyone asks I did not tell you about this.” Seungkwan says, side eyeing you with pursed lips

“My lips are sealed” you promise, miming yourself zipping up your lips.

“Ok.” Seungkwan starts, looking around to make sure nobody is eavesdropping. “SVT…SIGMA VETA THETA…Is an honorable fraternity.” He puts his hand over his heart, and you realize he has a flare for dramatics. (You choose to ignore the fact that ‘Veta’ is not a letter in the greek alphabet).

“and that remains true aside from some old weird shit.” Chan adds.

“we all have a matching shot glass.” Seungkwan butts back in. “Everyone gets it on their 21st birthday… and It does happen to have BTS on it.”

“Why is that a secret?” you ask. “Are you secretly ashamed to be a group full of little Kpop fanboys?” you giggle, pinching Chan in the side. He squirms playfully but doesn’t pull away from you.

“Oh I am quite loud and proud about the fact that I would fuck Hobi if given the chance!” Seungkwan states matter-of-factly.

Seungkwan is funny and you could now definitely see yourself attending another one of his parties.

“Ok so if not that, why?” You ask a bit more seriously.

“Well…” they both look at each other a bit awkwardly. “There’s… a weird tradition or like… lore with it that started way before any of us were actually here…” Seungkwan explains.

“It’s giving fraternity cult shit.” you determine. “I get it. spit it out.”

“Okay….” Chan concedes. “I want to clarify that I actually do like the glass and I did not mean to tell you about it or have you bring it up to Seungkwan.”

You just look at him with a lot of confusion.

“Basically, If a brother gives a girl a shot out of the glass around other brothers, it’s a signal that he’s trying to have sex with her. So it’s kind of a nonverbal sign for them to play wingman or whatever.” Chan rushes it out, seemingly a bit embarrassed of the whole idea.

“Additionally, if a girl talks about frat glass, it’s like a signal to all of the other brothers that she’s down to get laid.” Seungkwan finishes. “So like…maybe don’t talk about it to anyone unless you’re trying to fuck.”

You look up at chan and see a “deer in headlights” expression on his face.

“I urge to to forget you heard this and drink a nice calming shot of soju.” He mumbles.

“Oh I won’t be forgetting.” You announce rather boldly. “And I think I want my drink out of frat glass.” This earns a choked laugh from Seungkwan and Chan just gapes at you for a moment.

“You want frat glass?” He chokes out. “Like you wanna drink out of a bts shot glass because it’s silly? or you want … FRAT glass…” He asks, obviously trying to understand what you’re hinting at without actually ASKING.

“Well..” you tap your chin in a thinking pose and raise your eyes to the sky. “How about this. I want a drink out of frat glass, but my interest in it’s so called “lore” (you make air quotes) is yet to be discovered.”

Both boys laugh and Chan, hand still on your waist, guides you to the kitchen. You don’t see Mingyu on the way, but somehow it still feels right to have Chan’s arm around you, fingers occasionally playing with the hem of your shirt. You know it’s kind of mindless, but it sends little tingles through your skin. (What you were too nervous to say a moment ago was that if given the chance, you would so totally jump his bones).

Once you reach the kitchen, Seungkwan opens up a cabinet and finds the glass. He opens a cooler and finds some strawberry soju, quickly pouring you a shot.

“Y/N” he announces, handing it over with both hands, “You are now a trusted confidante of frat glass.”

you raise it above your head. “To my fantastic bias SUGA!” you down the drink with a cheer and seungkwan pours himself one too. “To Hobi!” He laughs, drinking the liquid. He pours you one more and you take it before leading Chan away into the sea of dancing people. You walk for a while, waiting until you see your ex, but you never do.

“What does this guy look like?” Chan asks, eyes scanning the crowd.

“He’s tall, brown hair, probably attached to a skinny little brunette.”

He scoffs, “sounds like half of the guys in here.”

“I never said I was creative.” you joke, continuing forwards.

“Y/N ” he hesitates, “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked nice earlier. He’s an idiot.”

Your face flushes a little and you feel the alcohol loosening your lips. “He IS an idiot. I was a good girlfriend.”

“Was he a good boyfriend…before the end?” He asks, nervous to be crossing a line.

You lift your gaze to the ceiling in thought. “Yeah. for almost a year. I think I knew it was ending a while before it happened but I was in denial about it. I tried to pretend I was imagining things. Avoiding the inevitable.

“I did the same things.” He pouts.

“Were you a good boyfriend?” You ask, trying to lift the mood a bit.

“I was a fantastic boyfriend. Flowers. Dinners. Mind blowing Sex.”

You laugh, appreciating his ability to release some of the weight from your thoughts.

“I tried everything I could to be what she wanted me to be. I still don’t know what changed.”

“Maybe the problem..for both of us” you motioned between your bodies, “wasn’t that we weren’t good enough…but maybe we were living a facade. We were trying to predict what they wanted us to be instead of just being ourselves.”

He nodded in contemplation.

“I think I’m glad I met you.”

You grin at him, falling into a comfortable silence for a few moments.

“You know” you finally speak up, “I still want to know why Seungkwan called you Dino.”

He blushes and stops walking, leaning his back against a hallway wall and pulling you towards him. His hands are now placed on either side of your hips. “It’s a stage name amongst the dance majors. I came up with it as a kid and it kind of stuck.”

You notice that his ears are a bit red, a sure sign of embarrassment. “Why did you choose it.”

“Because” he leans forward, “I wanted to dominate the stage like a dinosaur.”

“So you’re dominant… noted” you joke, nodding to your earlier conversation upstairs.

“I never said that” he smirks.

You can’t help but look at his lips now that you’re close to them. He notices and feels some of his own confidence resurfacing.

“but there is one way to test your theory.”

your heart is beating a million miles a minute as he pulls you a little closer, eyes dipping towards your mouth, hands non-moving from their place at your waist.

“I’m open to some experimenting.”

He smiles as you lean the last few inches forward, connecting your lips in a slow, lazy kiss. It’s deep and has your hands gripping at his shirt for some proof that this is real. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world, like he could do this all day, hands moving further onto the small your back until you’re being pulled flush against his body. He slowly trails them up your back -sparks following everywhere he touches- until they’re at your neck, where he wraps them around to that comfortable spot right under your ears, where your neck connects with your head. His hands fit perfectly, keeping your head stable while your tongues dance with each other. Your eyes are closed and you’re savoring the moment, ears ringing, drowning out the sounds of anyone else in the building. Right now, it’s just you and your new crush suspended in time.

You’re not completely sure what comes over you, but your hands slide under his shirt, appreciating the rippling abdominal muscles you’ve never seen but surely feel. You feel him shiver underneath your touch and it makes you smile, releasing a soft, breathy giggle into his mouth. He returns with one of his own and you both open your eyes, grinning at each other like kids in a candy store. Your eyes feel a little hazy, not from the alcohol, but from the bliss this man has somehow brought you in the span of two measly hours.

“Are you enjoying yourself” he bites his bottom lip, eyes flashing to where you’re not-so-subtly feeling him up.

“Oh yes. I just found out my date is kind of shredded.”

He laughs again, a sweet sound as his head falls backwards, eyes squinting shut.

You slide your hands back into your own space, only briefly before linking one with his and continuing down the rest of the hallway. “You can’t laugh about it because it’s true. My date is hot as fuck.” You’re practically dragging his dead weight (still laughing) as you round the corner, bumping directly into Soonyoung.

He steps back at the collision and raises his eyebrows when he sees you. “date?” he questions, eyes shifting to where you’re holding Chan’s hand. “Woah! You two know each other?”

“We didn’t, and now we do. Thanks for not answering your phone by the way.” You fold your arms and raise your eyebrows. You may be younger, but you two have a SASS heavy relationship and you can’t let him get off that easy after abandoning you.

“I was just coming to find you! Swear!”

You make an “mhm” noise that sounds anything like you believe him.

“I’m serious! I’ve got my keys, We can go now!”

“I actually think I’ll stay a little longer.” You reply, looking back towards Chan.

“I can take her home” he assures with a tight lipped smile.

“You sure?” Soonyoung hesitates. “I don’t think you want to go that way…” He throws a thumb over his shoulder, nonverbally indicating that’s probably where Mingyu is.

You look at Chan again, questioning him with your eyes. He nods and you look back towards your childhood friend.

“I’m done hiding from him.”

You pull your date past Soonyoung shouting a rushed “See you tomorrow” behind you as you stomp towards the stairs.

You enter the basement and quickly spot Mingyu in the corner, whispering to a girl…THE girl. You spin around so your back is facing him.

“See the guy directly behind me?” You ask and he subtly flicks his gaze towards where you’re directing him.

“Matches your description pretty well.” He bites the side of his cheek. “You weren’t kidding about tall.”

You shrug your shoulders. You were always kind of short for him anyway, never comfortably reaching his shoulders when you tried to dance at a party or pull him into a kiss.

“I guess so.” You dare to peek behind you once more before whispering “I didn’t really think this far ahead. I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do now.”

“I do” he replies, pulling you into a hug and swaying to the music playing over the stereo. “We could always continue where we left off” he whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “but only if you want to.”

You feel your lips curling upwards at the proposition and raise on your tip toes so you can whisper back. “You really want me to feel you up in front of all of these people?” you fall back to your normal height with a glimmer in your eye and he notices it.

“Oh you are tricky” he laughs, pulling you so that his back is against the wall like before. “Maybe just the first part though.” He whispers again, “We can save the other stuff for later.”

Your knees buckle at the insinuation and you wrap your right arm around his neck, left hand curling into his hair as you kiss him again. This kiss is a little bit more passionate. Lips chasing after each other as you arch your back ever so slightly, his strong arms keep you balanced for the 50th time this evening, and this time you notice his cologne. Some sort of Pine and Sandalwood blend. You let it fill your nose, all of your senses on overdrive. Your eyes are closed, and there’s a hint of strawberry flavor still lingering from your shots earlier. You allow yourself to appreciate the softness of his hair, the smooth strands sliding through your fingers with ease. You admire how soft his skin feels, and how respectfully he’s touching you. His hands roam freely but lightly, eventually finding purchase in your own hair. You’re grateful that you washed it today and added some leave in conditioner.

You’re not sure how long you kiss for, maybe a few minutes, could be hours. You really don’t care anymore. You feel like you could kiss Chan forever. He does eventually pull back though, brushing some hair out of your face and looking into your eyes. “You’re so pretty” he smiles, briefly glancing over your shoulder, “and not to make you nervous” he mumbles, “but that dude…. is definitely staring.”

Your heart flutters at the fact that he called you pretty…but your stomach has butterflies at the confirmed knowledge Mingyu is watching. Chan doesn’t really give you a chance to be worried though, because he pinches you in the side, a spot where you’re incredibly ticklish, and you squeal, slapping his hand away. He tries again on the other side but you’re quick enough to grab his wrist, twisting it until you’ve switched positions, your back against the wall with him caging you in. His palms are flat against either side of your head, and his body is perfectly blocking your view of anything (or anyone) else. It’s the perfect position for him to lean forward and continue kissing you.

You tilt your head upwards and he bites on your bottom lip softly, eliciting a sigh from you. Two can play that game, and you bite his lip right back, tongue immediately following to soothe the spot you nipped. He smiles, but doesn’t break away, he just kisses you with a grin. His hands slide into your back pockets and yours grip his shoulders, lightly squeezing at the muscles. Anyone with eyes could see that he had them. You’re sure you could feel more if he wasn’t wearing an oversized jacket, but making him take it off right now would feel a little TOO PDA for your liking. (You know…on top of the fact that you’re making out in a room full of people). The music is booming almost loud enough to bust the speaker but all you hear is white noise. You’re so infatuated with Chan.

You reach up to his neck and tilt his head just enough so you can whisper in his ear again. “Do you think he’s effectively jealous?” You pull back enough to look him in the eyes, still fighting the permanent smile on your face.

“I don’t know, should we go ask?” he teases, taking one step backwards.

“Over my dead body” you laugh, trying to keep him next to the wall.

“How about this.” He offers. Let’s go upstairs and see if he follows.

“Perfect plan. I’m ready for another drink anyways. You smile, backing towards the stairs and gasp when he picks you up bridal style. He carries you up and only sets you down when you’re back in the hallway.

“What a big, strong man you are, Chan.” you tease, grabbing his hand in yours.

“I have to admit” he replies, “That guy has muscles. I had to show off just a little.” He puts two fingers in front of your face mimicking the size of a penny.

“Oh my god you’re having fun right now” you pull him along, feeling a rush of adrenaline yourself.

“Like you aren’t” he counters, “Who wouldn’t want to make out with a hot dancer in front of their Ex. You’re like, super duper lucky to have found me.”

“You know what I would like even more?” You flirt, suddenly feeling brave.

“What’s that?”

“Making out with a hot dancer when we’re alone.”

He doesn’t even give you a second to react before his lips are meeting yours again. You feel like a high schooler all over again, sneaking around under the bleachers to kiss your first boyfriend…always wanting to be attached in some way. This time, you’re not in front of anyone so you do pull off his jacket, pulling away with a smirk on your face to put it on your own body.

“I couldn’t feel your muscles through this thing” you say, grabbing onto his shoulders again. His ears turn red again as he continues kissing you, arms flexing completely intentionally. You roll your eyes at the motion, but of course you don’t really mind. You kind of like it. A few minutes pass before you do actually need a breath, so you pull away and guide him through the hallway again.

“I vote one more drink, and then my apartment” you wink, noticing how his eyes scan your body wearing something of his.

He agrees in a nanosecond and follows you back into the main room by the couch. Jun and Minghao are still there, standing up as the game they were watching seemingly finished.

“Hey Y/N” Jun calls. “Did you find Soonyoung?”

“I found Chan” you say, motioning to him.

“I see” minghao bites his lips, noticing your flushed faces. “I assume you’re not leaving anymore?”

“Oh I am” you answer. “I just wanted another drink first.”

Your two friends give each other a knowing look before stepping to either side of Chan. Jun loops his arm around his shoulder and pokes him in the side. “Wanna tell us what this is all about” he prods, obviously teasing.

You fold your arms. “Minghao, can you pull your stinky ass brother off of my date?”

“A date you say?” He asks, looping his arm over your shoulder, mimicking Jun and messing up your hair, “My little friends finally met each other.”

You regret allowing Soonyoung to leave the party without dragging these two home with him.

“How come everyone at this party knew Chan other than me?” you gape, scrambling out of Minghao’s grasp.

“Probably because you live under a rock, my dear friend.” Jun quips.

“Whatever. I’ll be right back.” You shake your head side to side, chuckling as you leave the three boys behind, Chan being interrogated.

The kitchen is surprisingly empty, so you intend to quickly grab the soju and head back to your friends. Unfortunately you bump into a human wall in the door way.

The person you were looking for all night, but didn’t really want to see.

“Y/N” Mingyu blinks, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

You freeze on the spot, not sure what to say, not sure what to do. You just kind of stare at him, unmoving. You’re not sure how long you sat there, blinking like an idiot. (in reality it was probably like three seconds, but your brain completely short circuited the second you locked eyes with your previous lover).

“Here I am” you answer, voice cold. Your gaze shifts to the girl next to him. The girl he cheated with.

“You must be Ji-ah” you ask, tilting your head, feeling some of your brain cells rebooting.

She glares at you, but doesn’t confirm.

“I didn’t know you were coming either.” You admit, crossing your arms. “How have you been?”

You’re not sure why you asked that. You don’t really want to know…but that’s a normal thing to say when you haven’t seen someone in a while…so it just kind of came out.

“I’m fine. I miss you”

“Yeah. That’s unfortunate. “ you scoff. “Almost like I missed you when you went on a weekend golf trip..… oh wait!!! I think he was actually at your house.”

You point at Ji-ah, smiling a devilish grin. You feel some of the original anger bubbling up inside you in waves. It makes you feel a little better to see the look on her face when he admitted to missing you. Once a cheater, always a cheater.

Being alone with the two of them reminds you of all the hurt over the past few months. Reminds you of all the times you heard your friends telling you that you deserved better. Reminds you of the countless hours you spent in the gym or doing extra skincare because you just didn’t feel pretty enough. You finally realize, in this moment, that he just wasn’t worth any of it. You’re good enough, he just didn’t see it.

“But it doesn’t really matter anymore. I don’t miss you anymore.” You finally verbalize.

“Come on, that’s not fair…” Mingyu starts, and you hear Chan’s voice cutting him off.

“I think it is fair. Coming from someone who was in her same situation.” You turn to see him walking into the kitchen, hands in his pockets. Jun and Hao are following on his heels. They must have noticed Mingyu heading in this direction.

“Who the fuck are you” Mingyu questions, eyes narrowing in on where you instinctively grab his hand.

“None of your business anymore.” You answer, stepping backwards. “Come to think of it,” you sigh, looking at Chan, “I’ve had enough to drink.” You set the soju on the counter. “Can you still drive me.”

Chan nods, allowing you to pull him away.

“Did you really move on that fast?” Mingyu calls after you, stopping you dead in your tracks.

You whip around, feeling flames in your eyes. “It’s been three months Mingyu. You’re the one who moved on BEFORE THE RELATIONSHIP WAS EVEN OVER. What kind of fucking audacity do you have to say something like that!?”

You release your grip on Chan’s hand so you can stomp back, shoving Mingyu in the chest. Last time you saw each other, you didn’t get to say any of this. You were a crying, blubbering mess, begging him to explain. This time, you were just mad - And you were going to speak your mind.

“What did you want me to do? Did you want me to cry in the middle of the grocery store? Check. Did you want me to drink myself to sleep for two weeks straight? Congratulations. Were you hoping I’d obsessively stalk her instagram and compare our bodies?! Another winner. “ You gesture towards Ji-Ah.

You watch as his he clenches his jaw, clearly uncomfortable hearing how you handled the breakup.

“Did you want me to sit around and mope? I’m done with that. Of course I moved on.”

“I wasn’t implying you should stay sad..” He mumbles

“Sad is an understatement.” You point at Ji-ah again. “and I don’t know what you’re still doing with him.”

“Can we talk outside?” Mingyu asks, trying to grab your wrist.

You jerk away. “No. I’m sorry, is this embarrassing for you?” You motion to the 3 guys in the doorway. “is it a little awkward that they know you cheated?”

“Y/N. Calm down.”

“I’m calm. For the first time in a while, I don’t feel confused. I feel completely clear. I see that this relationship is long over, and I have no more intention to pine after it or repair it. I’ll see you around.”

You turn away, ready to be done with the conversation for real. You grab Chan’s hand again and he squeezes it in silent support as you head towards the front door.

You can’t really focus on much as you exit the house. Your heart is pounding really hard and you hear it beating in your ears. Your vision is blurred and You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol, or the realization hitting that you just went off on KIM MINGYU, President of the most popular frat (thankfully not Chan’s frat) in university, in front of several people. Maybe it’s a mixture of both. You don’t say anything else as Chan leads you down the long driveway and to his Black Porsche. At a different time, you might admire the fact that he has a Porsche, but right now you’re just ready to get out of here.

He opens the door for you, and you slide in, the cool leather causing you to shiver. You pull his jacket tighter around you and watch as he walks around to the driver’s side.

He slides in and turns the car on, but he doesn’t start driving. He just turns to you with a soft expression. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I think so. Maybe.” You link your hands together, fidgeting with them. “I’m sorry that I dragged you into all of this.”

“Technically”, he corrects “I put myself right into the middle of this.”

“You rub your hands through your hair, and finally allow yourself to exhale. “Thank you. I’m not sure what I expected out of tonight, but I definitely didn’t mean to scream at my Ex boyfriend in front of you.”

He reaches over and pulls your hand out of your hair, holding it on the center console.

“I thought it was kind of hot.”

You bite your tongue in surprise. “Are you kidding? I actually sounded like a woman scorned.”

“Y/N” he tilts his head with a ‘come on, listen to what i’m saying’ expression. “I went through the same thing. All of those feelings you have…I had them too.”

You blink at him silently.

“Put it this way” He explains. “You know that moment when you’re reading a book or watching a movie and you know the story is building up to a blowout? You’re waiting for your favorite character to stand up for themselves and put the antagonist in their place?”

You nod, understanding his words with a bit of pride.

“That’s how your conversation felt to me. I felt proud of you for realizing your own worth and taking the power he holds over you away.”

“Thanks” you mutter.

He squeezes your hand again.

“And while I’m being honest” he adds, ‘Can I admit something?”

You nod

He stares at you with his deep brown eyes for a second before continuing.

“I know we just met. and I know it’s been a crazy night…but it’s actually been kind of the best date ever.”

You can’t help but hide your face in your hands and blush.

“Can I be honest too?” You peek back at him

“Please.”

“I really want you to come home with me.”

You see him smile with his eyes.

“Done.”

***

The drive home is quick, and kind of a blur. His hand finds its way to your thigh and you’re trying to give him directions but really all you can think about is the way his hair falls into his eyes in the dim lighting and what it might look like falling into his eyes over the top of you. A right turn here, a left turn there, a quick kiss at the red light. (you blushing after said kiss).

It’s hot how easily he parallel parks on the street and hot when he makes you wait for him to open your door. It makes you drool when he makes it a point to open his trunk, pulling out a pair of sweats that Seungkwan had returned to him earlier, saying “I’m sleeping over, right?” You obviously say yes and lead him towards your apartment.

You unlock the door and practically drag him inside, starting to feel impatient. You want to jump his bones immediately, but he’s a little more level headed. He takes off his shoes and looks around, taking in your space. Luckily you cleaned up today. He makes a basic comment about how girls decorate way better than guys and then (finally) after what feels like ages (it was like 30 seconds) he asks where your room is. You grab his hand and walk backwards, dragging him through your door and closing it behind you, despite the fact that you know you’re home alone.

You keep walking backwards until your knees hit the bed and you fall backwards onto the plush mattress. Chan follows, not letting go of your hands. He captures your lips with his before you’re even flat on your back and lifts your hands up near your head, linking your fingers together. His thumb draws little circles along your hand and you relish in the sweet touch compared with the weight. He’s basically pinning you to the comforter since he’s holding his own weight up with your clasped hands. Your kiss is just as deep and passionate as it was in that hallway. His lips are warm, and yours are burning with the lust. Both of you are breathing hot breaths into each other but you can’t be bothered to break away.

You kiss and kiss and kiss until his hands leave yours to roam elsewhere. He reaches inside his jacket (that you might just steal) to grasp your slender waist, a place he’s grown very fond of over the course of the evening. It’s fast, he knows, but he feels like he could hold onto your hips forever. He really likes the way you melt into him and the way you arch upwards when his hands plant there. He likes the way one of his knees is in between your legs, and the way you look down at it with a devilish smile. The way you not-so subtly rut into his thigh with your core….and wow he loves the way you bite back a little sigh of relief.

It’s amazing to you how much you’re enjoying just the little touches. The way you’re moving slowly but it still has your head spinning like a top. The way he tickles your waist just a bit and the way he playfully bites your lip. You’ve had plenty of hookups, plenty of sex that went from zero to one-hundred in two minutes tops. Chan is different. He’s appreciating you in the most modest way first. Working you up. He’s worshiping your lips and appreciating you with your clothes on. He’s in no rush, and you have a feeling he could keep you up all night.

“I like you in my jacket” he smiles, licking his lips “maybe you should keep it”

“I was already planning on it” you giggle, sitting upwards to slide it off. “better not ruin it.”

“Oh i didn’t finish” he grins, pulling your shirt up and over your head. “I think you should keep it on.” he leans down to whisper in your ear “but i think you should keep just the jacket on.”

You visibly shudder at the words. and at the feeling of his hot breath against your neck. He starts to kiss there, leaving a string of burning marks along your neck, working his way to your collarbone, dressed only in the thin strap of your bra at this point. His big hands reach up to unclasp the lacy material, pulling away for a short second to confirm “can i?”

“Please” you whimper, wanting his lips back on your skin immediately.

He unclasps the bra and slides it off of your shoulders…painfully slowly. He throws it over his shoulder, in the same direction as your shirt before admiring your bare chest. He looks at you like you’re the best dessert he’s ever ordered, and you feel your skin shiver at the way he looks up through his blonde bangs, locking eyes with you.

“You” he starts, pulling you upwards and forwards until you’re both facing each other on your knees, “are going to be the death of me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping them straight so your elbows are resting on his shoulders and your chest is pulled tight against his clothed one.

“If you really feel that way” you nuzzle into his neck “you might as well die naked.”

His body reacts to your taunting faster than his brain does, and it’s merely a second until his shirt is discarded as well, abs glistening in the low lamplight of your room. You capture him in another kiss, appreciating how toned he is pressed against you. You allow your arms to curl into his hair for a while before rubbing them down his back, feeling his muscles twitch at the grazing of your touch. When they reach his waistband you allow them to move to his front, rubbing up the strong lines of his stomach. This flusters him just enough for you to flip your position, laying him flat against your pillows/headboard and straddling his lap.

You take a moment to pull away from the kiss, raising your hands up above your head in a stretch, teasing him a little. Chan’s jaw drops open as he gets a front row seat of your nipples, hard and perky right in front of him. He also notices the small tattoo on your ribcage of a diamond and reaches forward to touch it. You allow your head to fall back as he wraps his hands around your ribs, thumb staying over the tattoo. He leans forward and takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking and kissing it with so much desire.

“Chan” you sigh towards the ceiling, gripping at his hair again. “yes.”

You feel him harden underneath you at the gasp of his name, and you can’t help but rub against him. “you like it when I say your name, huh?”

He pulls away to appreciate your other nipple, mumbling a “so much” as he does so.

You continue looking upwards, eyes falling shut as he worships your sensitive nubs. You rut against him again and he bites the nipple, earning a little shriek from your lips.

“If you want my dick that badly, just ask, baby.” he says, tongue darting out to soothe your flesh.

Your hands tug at the ends of his hair where they connect with his neck, forcing him to look upwards and you lean over, mouth hovering just over his. “Ok, Dino.” you emphasize the nickname. “I want your dick. I want your dick so far up my pussy that it remembers the shape tomorrow.”

He bucks up into you, laughing as you involuntarily moan at the friction. “You can have it.”

He pulls at your jeans and you lift up, helping him slide them off. You have to sit back on his shins for a split second to get them over your ankles before you’re straddling him in only underwear.

He rolls you again so you are underneath him and he shucks off his jeans and underwear together in record speed. You’re expecting him to rip off your underwear and wreck you senseless, but instead he reaches his hands into your lacy covering and rubs in tight circles, kissing the spot in between your boobs as he does so. Your eyes roll back at the stimulation and you breath a soft “ oh god” to the sky.

“You can have it……” he repeats “later”

that’s all the warning you have before he’s plunging his middle finger into you. Your breathing picks up as he pumps it into you, still rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your body morphs into his, arching and girating against his single digit. you grab at your boobs to have something to hold onto, and bite your bottom lip. He curls his finger to just the right angle, snapping his wrist up, up, up.

“fuck” you moan “another chan, give me another.”

He pulls out just long enough to pull your underwear off, shoving it back in within seconds.

“good girl” he smirks, adding a second finger and leaning into your neck, sucking hard enough to form a hickey.

your mouth falls open and your breaths are loud, steady and mostly airy with a hint of moaning.

“Do you want to come more than once” he asks, trailing his kisses from your neck and up to the sensitive spot behind your ear. “I could eat you out. edge you. fuck you into the wall. what do you want baby?”

“so…ohhhhh” you moan loudly when a third finger enters your vagina, “so generous fuckkkk”

he relishes in the fact that his fingers feel so good you can’t even answer his question. He continues plunging in and out, the loud squelch of your wetness making him harder each second.

“Wall Channie. Dick. wall. standing up, oh god.” you groan. “but after. I want this longer.” Your hips jerk upward in confirmation that you want him just like this.

“Anything for you, princess.” he shifts his body down, settling his head in between your legs. You’re already close with the three digits working you, but it’s borderline euphoric when he licks a stripe up your folds, moaning with intense vibrations against your cunt. His second hand takes over rubbing circles against your clitoris and his tongue starts go dip into your hole alongside the fingers, stiffened and quick. You can’t help but clench your teeth, realizing that this is the best head you’ve ever had. You’re mumbling absolute nonsense like “god, oh god keep going” and “just like that, just like that.” You’re pathetic for him. A writhing whimpering mess. His lips latch around your clit and he sucks on it, sending mind numbing shockwaves through your entire pussy and up your back.

“So good” he mumbles into you, picking up the pace even quicker. How that’s even possible, you’re not sure. You’re too incoherent to notice how he’s humping the bed in time with the pace you’re humping his face. He’s so turned on by you - the sounds you’re making, that he’s feeling desperate for some sort of release. He needs you to finish so he can take a moment to cool himself down.

He continues working you with his hands, lifting his face to your neck. he bites at your flesh and nibbles on your ear. “come for me.” he moans directly into you, hot breath sending shivers through your body. You feel a burning, bubbling sensation in your gut and know you’re close.

“yes sir” you choke out as the orgasm hits you. hard. You’re seeing white. Seeing stars and reaching out to grab his shoulder, something to steady you while you float into oblivion. Your legs are shaking and he keeps his fingers inside, working you through it, feeling the way you pulse around him…wishing it was already his dick being squeezed and milked. Wishes he could fill you up and test how your pussy reacts.

You’re moaning his name. Chanting it like a prayer. He feels dizzy just hearing it. “Chan, oh my god Chan.” He loves it. You slowly start to feel the world come back and you squeeze your legs shut, pinning his hand. You’re reaching overstimulation territory and he understands, using his knee to push yours open just enough to pull his fingers out of you, sucking them into his mouth, licking your juices off of them. He then grabs onto your side again, leaning forward for another kiss. You taste yourself on his lips and smile when he shares, voice gravely, “I could hear you moan my name every day.”

“Chan” you whimper into his mouth “Chan with magic fingers.”

He shivers against you and you pull him into a hug, closing your eyes. You feel his hard-on against your stomach and smile. “give me 60 seconds” you instruct “and then I expect you to rail me against the wall.”

He slides his hand upwards, cupping the side of your breast, wordlessly agreeing with another kiss to your neck. You lay there, appreciating the way he’s still exploring your body while you rest. The little tickles along your skin feel like fireworks despite the fact you just orgasmed harder than any man’s fingers or face have ever made you come.

“On one condition” he finally says (after a bit longer than the 60 seconds).

“hmm” you mumble, eyes still closed.

He flips you onto your stomach wordlessly, surprising you with his warm hands pressing you down. He rubs his cock through your wet folds from above you and groans, both hands rubbing along your back. “such a pretty back” he notes, touching your second tattoo of a flower. He leans down to kiss it before mumbling. “Too bad i’ll need to cover this up.” You’re only confused for a moment before he’s leaning across the bed to his jacket, sliding it on your otherwise naked form. You weakly move your arms, helping him slide it on with a smile. “I told you I wanted to fuck you in this” he says, getting off of you so he can pull you to a standing position next to the bed.

You turn to face him with rosy cheeks and grin at his puffy lips and messed up hair. You’re sure that you probably look twice as fucked out, and can’t help but glance to the mirror in the corner to check. He steps around you, hands wrapping around in a back hug, staring into the mirror too. “Do you see how sexy it is?” He asks, pulling it open enough so your tits are exposed. You lean back into him, sliding your hands up so they’re circling your nipples. You smirk at him through the reflection, licking your lips and tilting your head.

“I could get used to this.”

He kisses behind your ear, sliding his hand down into your…his pocket, coming out with a condom in his hand. You giggle. “has that been in there all night?”

“No. I stole it from a bowl in Seungkwan’s entryway on our way out the door. I slipped it in the pocket without you noticing.” he laughs bringing the package up to his teeth. You stop him before he can rip it open. “We don’t need it…as long as you’re clean…” you look up shyly.

His eyes widen…and darken at the same time. “You’re sure?” he confirms.

You nod, pulling the wrapper from his hand and sliding it back into the jacket pocket. “IUD…I want to feel you..completely.”

He pulls you backwards with a grin until he’s leaning against the wall, kissing you again for a few moments before trailing two fingers down your body. Starting at your neck and wandering across your collarbone, in between your breasts and down your abdomen. You’re sensitive to his touch but don’t want him to stop. You sigh as his fingers reach your nub, rubbing small circles before slipping back inside you, scissoring to stretch you out. Fingers still inside, he turns you so your back is the one against the wall, and he lifts your leg around his hip. He pulls his fingers out after deciding you’re thoroughly sloppy and wet and stretched from before. You don’t really need more prep, and if you’re honest, you don’t want any more. You just want him. Inside you. Now.

You pull his hair and tilt his head so you’re cheek to cheek, arching your chest into his again. “Please, Channie. I’m ready.”

He gets the hint, and he’s feeling pretty insatiable himself, so he lines himself up with your hole and slides home, slowly. His dick is the perfect size. It’s big and long, but slender enough to feel good and not painful. He gives you a second to nod once he bottoms out and then he’s moving. He pulls about 3/4 of the way out before ramming into you again, hitting your G-Spot with extreme accuracy. You almost choke on the realization. One thrust and he’s found your perfect angle.

“right there” you almost scream. “holy fuck.”

He picks up the pace, setting a rhythm and gripping you for balance. He’s holding your left leg up around his hip and grasping your waist with the other. You have one hand on his shoulder to steady you and the other reaches behind you, above your head, bent elbow and palm flat to the wall. You match his pace with your own hips, rolling into him each time he pushes inwards.

in, out, in out, he’s pounding hard. almost completely leaving you before ramming in, again, again, again.

You look sideways, catching a perfect view of your position in the mirror. You admire the way his thigh muscles tense as he pushes forwards and enjoy the feeling of his hot breath on your neck. You’ve always appreciated a vocal partner, but something about just the sounds of his hitched breathing is more than enough. You know you’re getting close again, which is just not acceptable. You want this…no…you NEED this to last longer. You can feel his thrusts becoming more erratic too and know he must be getting close as well. “fuck chan” you moan, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the ecstasy. “hitting my spot way too good”

“yeah?” he groans into your neck, “you like it baby?”

“I like it so much” you pinch into the skin of his shoulder, leaving nail marks. “Please, please.. god… oh my god.. let me ride you” you get out, brain hazy and sentence choppy.

you feel him twitch at the request and he slows down his pounding so that he can lift your other leg up, you instinctively wrap it around his other hip in a koala hug. He carries you back to the bed and pulls out, eliciting a pout from you. He lets out a low, sexy chuckle at the whine. “You’re the one who wanted to switch positions.”

He’s not wrong.

You reach forward to touch him and he surprises you by giving you his dick instead of his full body. You wrap your fingers around it, just barely unable to close around the thickness. You stroke him and watch as his head dips forward, mouth hanging open. You would love it in your mouth, can feel yourself salivating over the thought but you just had him inside you up against a wall and you can’t go backwards from that feeling. You need him back inside you asap. He seems to agree because he’s soon kneeling over you, straddling you and thrusting his hard cock into your grip. “You can help me finish like this” he groans, basically using your hand as a fuck toy. “or you can bounce on it. But either way I’m not gonna last much longer.”

You release your grip and push him to the side. He rolls onto his back and scoots upwards on the bed, freeing up room for you to kneel over him, mimicking his straddle from before. You line up again and drop your body weight onto his throbbing member, feeling immediately deeper than before. Even better. His hands reach their favorite spot of the evening - your hips - and yours are on his chest, pushing him deep enough to leave an imprint on your mattress. Not that you’d mind. his hips are wildly jerking up into you and you eat up the way his skin is bumping against your clit.

His skin underneath you is hot, and his eyes are burning into the spot where your intimate parts meet. He’s in heaven. His hands move from their place to rest on top of yours on his chest. He links your fingers together and lifts his arms above his head, pulling you forward to hit a different angle. you squeak at the surprise fall and he smiles at how your lips are now close enough to kiss. He can’t really kiss you with how close he is though. He more so just breathes into your open mouth, an occasional grunt coming out.

“Where do you want it” he finally asks, as your bouncing becomes faster and his hips thrust even harder. “You have like 3 seconds to decide.”

You nonverbally answer for him when you pull off of his dick and shove it into your mouth, just in time for his release. His eyes grow wide as he realizes what you’re doing. You stroke his cock through the orgasm, choking slightly on the white strings of cum shooting down your throat. But you take it like a champ. You swallow all you can and pull off with a loud popping sound, wiping at the mess on your chin. He looks more surprised than any man before when you’ve done this and you smile, Moving back up to sit on his thighs.

“that” he starts, mouth wide “was the hottest fucking thing anyone has ever done.”

You just smile at him and crawl back up to collapse by his side. You expected that to be the end of things but Chan is observant enough to realize that through his mind blowing orgasm, you still didn’t finish again. and Chan ALWAYS makes sure his girl comes more than once.

His fingers are inside of you again without another word and you’re still so worked up that he starts with three at once. You’re laying on your side next to him, slowly turning onto your back with each flick of his wrist so that he can properly help you finish.

You moan as he nips at your nipple, grinding into his hand faster. “I’m almost there” you breathe, arching your back. “keep going, keep going, faster.” He listens and speeds up just enough for you to feel that bubbly, euphoric explosion inside.

Your legs pinch closed as he helps you ride out the orgasm, and he has to nudge one again with his elbow in order to get his hand out, licking his fingers once he does so.

You lay there for a moment, curling up into his side as if you were always meant to be there. Your bodies fit so perfectly together, like the pieces of a puzzle made by fate. How else were you to end up in this situation? You can’t help but contemplate in the afterglow about how lucky you were to run into him tonight. About how this evening could have gone so disastrously wrong, but he made sure it went so right.

—

The clean up process was cute. Domestic. Chan carried you to the bathroom on his back and warmed up the shower before stepping in with you, rubbing soap up and down your body in a soothing way. He didn’t try to initiate anything else for the night, he just softly kissed your shoulder once or twice, massaged out a knot in your neck and admired how your body reacted to his soft touches.

After deciding you were both properly clean, and after changing the sheets, you’re cuddled up in bed with sleep on the horizon. You’re on your sides, your back tucked into his chest and his arms wrapped around you. He’s lazily drawing circles on one of your arms when he speaks up.

“Y/N?” his voice is gravely and tired, somewhere in a halfway state between awake and asleep.

“Yes?” you mumble, eyes still closed.

“Will you go on another date with me tomorrow?’

You smile and nuzzle further back into him. “I would love that.”

“Good.” he shares. “and I’m going to make you breakfast.”

“Does that count as another date? Or is it part of this one?” you counter.

“That’s part of this one.” He concludes. “The other date is a surprise.”

You blush a little. It’s sweet that he’s already making plans to spend more time with you.

His hand moves from your arm to your hand and he rests his fingers over yours.

“you really are so pretty..”

and that’s the last thing you really remember before a comfortable sleep overtakes both of you. And you dream about all of the possibilities tomorrow entails.

And in your sleep you realize that maybe running away from Mingyu at that frat party was the best thing that ever happened to you….

****

#seventeen #svt #svt fluff #svt x reader #seventeen smut #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #svt dino #lee chan #svt smut #lee chan smut #dino smut #dino x reader #lee chan x reader #lee chan x you #lee chan x y/n

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loveharlow · 8 months ago

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SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 005 (PART 1)

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[7.3k] Early morning arrests and break ups, one member of the pogues goes rogue and gets into a world of trouble.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, forced drug use, abduction, mentions of physical violence, mention of non-con/sexual assault, disorientation

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ Good doesn't come without bad :/ I'M SORRY also THIS CHAPTER IS SM BETTER W THE SONG TRUST ME

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“BETWEEN YESTERDAY AFTERNOON AND EARLY THIS MORNING, OUR KILDARE COUNTY POLICE DEPARTMENT CARRIED OUT SEVERAL ARRESTS IN THE MURDER CASES OF SUSAN PETERKIN, GAVIN BARNSTEAD, BIG JOHN ROUTLEDGE, AND OWEN CARTER.” Shoupe’s voice traveled from the small speaker of your phone. You were watching the local news — you, JJ, John B, Pope, and Kiara all sitting out on the pier behind The Chateau. It was still early, the sun just settling in the sky, providing a comforting warmth over the five of you.

JJ was laid outstretched on on the boat, head buried in his arms while Pope stood with his hands in his pockets. Kiara was kicking her feet, sitting on the wood of the dock as you and JB stood side by side, eyes glued to the phone screen as Shoupe continued giving his statement. “...The individuals in custody are our department pathologist Mark Daniels, officer Shane Graves, local attorney Rebecca Reyes, and Rafe Cameron.” Shoupe explained, swallowing harshly. “Unfortunately, our prime suspect, Ward Cameron was the victim of an explosion late yesterday afternoon. The other trials will take place in the following weeks, more updates are to come. Thank you for your time.” And then he was walking away from the podium swiftly, head down as chatter erupted and cameras flashed, the program cutting back to it’s anchor.

You sighed, powering off the phone and sliding it into your back pocket.

“...He deserved it, right?” JJ asked, lifting his head from his arms and squinting his eyes from the harsh sun.

“Of course he deserved it.” Pope added, sitting down on the boat.”I’ve just...never seen anyone blow themselves up like that.”

“Cross that one off the bucket list.” The blonde shrugged, laying his head back down.

“Dude.” Pope said sternly, shooting JJ a look of warning as Kiara rounded the dock and sat herself next to John B who’d taken a seat inside.

Planting a gentle hand on his back, she spoke to him softly. “Are you okay?”

John B fiddled with his fingers in his lap, biting his lip. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

POPE WALKED IN JUST AS YOU’D SLIPPED YOUR OTHER SHOE ON AND STOOD FROM THE SOFA, the boy stopping in his tracks.

“Where are you going?” He asked casually, resuming his slow steps plopping himself down on the sofa.

“Hopefully to get my dog back.” You said, patting your pockets to make sure you had everything. With the announcement of Rafe's arrest, you figured it was as good a time as any.

“...And you were just going to leave without telling anyone?” He asked, sitting up straighter, becoming increasingly more concerned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t think JJ would agree with it either-”

“What does he have to do with anything?” You cut him off, your eyebrows set into a straight line.

“C’mon,” Pope sassed, standing from the couch. “It’s literally so obvious. It’s been obvious.” He said cooly. “Like, everyone knew he liked you before but now it’s clear you two have something going on. And you know how he is. He cares about you. A lot. You don’t wanna make him worry, do you?”

You wanted to tell him so badly. You felt like he needed to know why JJ wasn’t a priority right now. But you knew doing it would break Pope’s heart. Pope was in love with Kiara. And he deserved to know the truth, but you telling him out of spite wasn’t the best way to go through it.

“...Look, Pope.” You sighed, letting your shoulders fall. “Me and JJ aren’t on the best terms right now and I don’t want to be around him and I definitely don’t want his help. I know what I’m doing.” You assured, looking the boy in his eyes. “Okay? I’ll be fine, I promise.”

He seemed to sway on his feet, fighting with what to do in his head. “At least let me come with you. You can’t go alone-”

You immediately shook your head, putting your hands in front of you. “No, no. I don’t want you anywhere near Barry or Rafe without at least an army behind you.”

“But what about you?”

“...I’ve dealt with them before.” You affirmed, tensing your jaw.

Pope sighed in defeat, running a hand down his face. “Well, Rafe’s in jail but I doubt he’ll be in there long before he’s bailed out so you should be up against just Barry.” He pondered, turning to you and squinting his eyes. “...Fine. But if I call or text and I don’t get an answer, I’m telling JJ and everyone else. Deal?” He held out his hand.

The amount of care Pope had for your safety was sweet. So sweet it put a small, sheepish smile on your face. Connecting your hand with his, you shook it. “Deal.”

YOU SLOWED IN YOUR STEPS SOME FEET AWAY FROM THE SECLUDED TRAILER, wanting to minimize the chances of Barry seeing or hearing you before you even got to the door. The closer you got, the worse it smelled. You’d almost forgotten how the stench of weed and bonfire smoke stung your nostrils. Or how the overgrown grass scratched at your exposed legs, irritating the skin.

Your eyes immediately spotted a singular, metallic dog bowl — the inside smeared with what looked like canned meat. You felt sorrow and relief all at once. On the bright side, at least Marley was here. Or here at some point.

“Lookin’ for that mutt?” A familiar raspy voice sounded out. You whipped your head to the side to find Barry standing the doorway of his trailer. He startled you for a moment but the fear quickly diminished. After all, Barry rarely ever left the comfort of his trailer. He was dressed in a dirty wifebeater and shorts, his signature smirk plastered on his face.

“Where is she?” You asked, a hard expression on your face.

He simply drew his lips into a thin line, his eyebrows raising as he shrugged carelessly. “I ain’t got a damn clue.” He chuckled, shifting his weight against the frame and licking his lips. “Why don’t you ask Country Club?”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “He’s in a cell. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here. Not alone, anyway.” You explained. “What, you don’t watch the news or something? Figured you’d keep tabs on your partner in crime.”

Barry just stood there smiling. Smiling weirdly. It made your stomach turn. You were never scared of Barry but he never failed to give you the creeps. “Trust me, I keep tabs.” He chuckled, strutting down the small staircase that led up to the door of his trailer. “You shoulda kept your ass away from here, Snoozie.” He told you, waving a finger in your direction, a mischievous expression on his face.

“...What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, pinching your eyebrows together.

“It means…whatever happens now is on you.” He smiled when suddenly, you felt two hands wrap around you and pull you into a body. One arm was on your neck, right under your chin as the other held your torso against the assailants. You could hear breathing in your ear — somewhere between heaving and chuckling as your body froze before trying to fight the person off to no avail.

“Hey, calm down,” You knew that voice.

It was the voice of someone who wasn’t supposed to be here.

“...Get off of me.” You warned, but it came out as more of a weak whisper.

You didn’t think you were afraid of Rafe anymore. But the feeling of his hands on your body, the force he was using to hold you in place, his warm breath against your neck — it all made you feel disgusting.

It made you feel like you were in the back of his truck all over again.

“Yeahhh…I can’t do that.” He laughed, walking you closer to Barry, his grip never loosening. “We’ll let you and your annoying ass dog go but, see, you walked into our domain? Alright, so…that means, we get to have our fun with you, first.” He whispered into your ear.

You watched helplessly as Barry pulled a plastic bag filled with a white, powdery substance from his pocket — scooping a decent amount onto the tip of his pinky before walking closer to you. "This for you and your friends stealin' my fuckin' money."

You began to dry heave, frantically shaking your head from side to side as he lifted the drugs to your nose. You jerked and jumped in Rafe’s hold, trying to do anything to get him to either let you go and disable Barry from drugging you.

“Hold her head still, Rafe.”

“Alright…” The Cameron boy groaned, carefully maneuvering the arm on your neck so that he quickly grasp your jaw, the strong hold causing an immediate ache as he held your head in place.

“There we go…” Barry drawled on, shoving his pinky so far up your nose that it hurt, triggering you to cough vehemently but ultimately sniff the substance. “Aight, she should be out soon. Take her inside, my neighbors are nosy as shit...”

Rafe released your jaw as you coughed. Your whole chest hurt and your nostrils stung and tingled, the sensation traveling from the bridge of your nose and to your brain — the feeling somewhere in between a migraine and a brain freeze. When your coughing died down, your head began to feel light. As light as a feather on your shoulders.

Their voices became inaudible in your ears, fading in and out. You tried to fight Rafe once more but you couldn’t feel your arms, or your legs for that matter.

The last thing you remember before the trees turned to blobs was Rafe carrying your body inside the trailer.

WHEN YOU OPENED YOUR EYES AGAIN, you didn’t know how much time had gone by. Minutes, hours…

Everything felt so heavy. Your eyelids were half close as that was as high as you could hold them. Your head rolled on your shoulders, gently swaying from side to side because holding it straight didn’t seem to be in your list of capabilities at the moment. Your lips felt permanently parted, not enough muscle strength to push them together and keep them there.

Looking around slowly, everything had a trail behind it. Everytime you turned, the object in your vision would leave behind a trail, like smeared paint. You didn't even know where you were, in all honesty. The kitchen? You looked up, letting your eyes settle before you realized what you were looking at — your hands. They were tied to a pole. A rack, of sorts.

You couldn’t even feel it. You tugged and tugged, at least you thought you were. But it didn’t look like your hands were moving.

“You awake now?” A voice echoed in your ears. You lowered your gaze to a find a figure in front of you.

Rafe, you concluded once your vision settled.

You swallowed and you could feel that, a little bit too much. It felt like you were swallowing rocks. What did Barry give you? “...Can you untie me?” You spoke.

“I’m sorry,” Rafe said, his voice sounding weird in your ears. He crouched down in front of you, his eyes boring into yours. He looked so much scarier. “...What was that? You’re mumbling, sunshine.”

You swallowed again, the action causing you to blink harshly - the smear of colors hurting you vision when you opened your eyes again. “...Can you untie me?” You mumbled once more, but you didn’t know you were mumbling. In your ears, you could hear your voice so clear. It was so loud and it echoed, like yelling down an empty hall — every sounded bounced off the walls.

Rafe just stared at you. It looked like he was thinking before he shrugged lightly, shifting closer to you and reaching above your head where your hands were bound. “You’re too weak to go anywhere anyway…can’t do anything…might as well.”

You felt your arms float to the floor as Rafe held the rope in his hands, examining it before tossing it to the side. His gaze returned to you, analyzing your face as if he’d never seen it before. His blue scanned over you in your entirety, drinking you in with his eyes. It felt like he was staring straight into your soul, taking every part of it for himself. He was your focal point, everything else behind him fading into a mess of colors.

Even in your altered state of consciousness, your body still found the strength to flinch when his hand reached out to touch your face, his fingers leaving a fiery trail in their wake. “...You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispered, his voice sounding ghostly in your ears. “I just want you to let me love you. And you won’t…” His words made you ill. So ill that you were sure that your stomach audibly turned. “I never…meant to hurt you. But you just made it so hard.”

You could see the tears welling in his eyes and the redness blooming on his nose. He was…crying. Or trying not to. You couldn’t clearly tell. “And then you told everyone that I..raped you.” He choked out, threading his fingers through your hair as you tried to move away from his touch, the sound of his digits scraping against your roots making your body recoil. “We both wanted it. You were just too ashamed to admit it. You thought it was wrong, that we were wrong. You were fighting me, I'll admit…but you wanted it.”

You shook your head, bile rising in your throat. “...Didn’t.” You choked out, throwing your head back against the wall. “I didn’t…want it.” You breathed. “And I…don’t…love you.” You struggled to form fluent sentences, your words slurring in on each other even with the long pauses in between nearly each word. “You and your family…took everything f-...from me.” Talking was as hard as hiking up the steepest hill in the world. “I just want my dog back. Can’t you j-...just give her to me?”

“Jesus- forget the fucking dog!” Rafe screamed, kicking a nearby object. You couldn’t see what it was. His hands gripped his hair at the roots, the boy pacing back and forth in front of you before crouching down in front of you once more, closer this time. “This is about us — me and you. I am in love with you. So, why is it…that you can’t love me back? You led me on. You made me like this-”

“No, I didn’t.” You cried, head thrown back as you looked up at the ceiling, tears running from your eyes, the droplets tickling your cheeks. “You made…me like this.” You said tearfully, a cough following the statement. “I was fifteen. I didn’t know…any better. But you did.” You wailed, lowering your head to look at him, although your head still swayed. “And when I did…know better, you didn’t w-want to let me go. And it doesn’t even matter…” You almost laughed through your tears. “Because your dad…ruined my life months before we even met.”

Rafe was quick to wrap his hand around your neck after that, squeezing harshly. He edged his face closer to yours, the tips of his hair tickling your forehead as stars invaded your vision, or what remained of it. “My dad? Did what he had to do. Alright? He’s not a monster.”

“...Neither was mine.” You croaked out. Rafe looked between your eyes with an expression you couldn’t place. Sadness? Anger? Whatever it was, he felt enough of it to release his grip, you taking the biggest gulp of air possible, your hair falling in front of your face as you held it down weakly.

He stood up from his crouching position in front of you. You heard him pace around once more as you caught your breath, each intake feeling like you were breathing in the coldest air ever, before you cried out in pain, the sound hurting your ears. Rafe had grabbed a fistful of your hair, using it to pull you up, but you could barely stand so the angry boy used his other hand to grip your upper arm for support. Using the hold he had on you, he drug your limp frame into the small living area, throwing you onto Barry’s tattered sofa.

…Where was Barry?

You landed on your side, rolling over onto your back. The whole room was spinning again, the quickness of his actions not allowing your brain to catch up with the swift movements. “I try to do the right thing and no one ever cares. My dad and Sarah, even Rose…they blame me for everything.” He ranted and rambled, his hands balled into fists by his sides as he looked down at you. “I thought you were different.” He said through labored breaths. Him standing above you, face red and furious, you would've sworn he was the devil himself. “But you’re just as bad as the rest of them. But I can change that…” He nodded, climbing on top of you, straddling your motionless body.

All you could do was look at him through the strands of hair that cloud your vision. You let out a ‘hmph’ as he let his weight rest on your thighs. “I can’t change their minds. I can’t fix them.” He said, his hands trailing the hem of your bottoms before unbuttoning them. “...But I can fix you.” He breathed, his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he nodded to himself. “I can make you love me.”

Before you knew it, the sound of him dragging the zipper of your fly rang out in your ears - the familiar situation triggering a series of images to flash in your mind. Images of the first time. You felt the puddles of hot tears leaving your eyes as your throat ached to say something. “Please, stop…” You cried, throwing your head side to side as your weak hands tried to push his away. “Please, don’t do this again.” You stuttered, your nimble fingers clawing at his knuckles as he struggled to drag your bottoms down your legs.

You felt like God himself came down from Heaven when a harsh light filled the trailer, the door of the mobile home opening as Barry entered, taking in the scene in front of him. You quickly registered that it was actually moonlight blinding you so viciously, the brightness fading behind Barry’s figure to reveal the eerie darkness outside.

How long had you been here?

“Aye, what the fuck? Rafe!” Barry said disgusted, slamming the door shut behind him. “Get the fuck off her, man. Don’t do that shit in my crib.” He told him, throwing a hand out in his direction. Rafe sighed, getting off of you and aggressively dragging your pants back up your legs, but he didn’t bother to button them back. You laid on the couch, sobbing silently. You didn’t know if it was out of fear or relief. “That’s why yo ass put me on paw patrol? So you could fuck the doped up girl in my damn house?”

Rafe made a face of annoyance, rolling his eyes at the drug dealer’s words. “Did you do it?”

“Uh, yeah, I did it, dumbass.” Barry said, voice full of attitude. “I just let her go in the backyard, it sounded like they were all inside. I saw one of the dudes come out and take her inside before I dipped.” He explained, grabbing a half-drunken beer from his cluttered coffee table. “Why you have me take the dog back if she still here? Y’know they gon come lookin’ for her eventually…” He threw out, the rim of the beer bottle touching his lips before he took a big sip.

“Just had to leave a little hint behind.” Rafe told Barry, sitting on the couch next to your feet as you turned to your side, groaning. He made a line out of the loose coke on the coffee table before quickly snorting it. A large exhale leaving his lungs as he let it pass through him. “It’s fun to fuck with ‘em, dude.”

“I ain’t with these games and shit.” Barry complained, walking to the back of his trailer. You were still laid out on the couch, sobbing silently. “If they come by here and fuck up my shit, it’s comin’ outta your pocket, Country Club.” He said. “And give her another hit!” He called from the back. “All that cryin’ and shit is givin’ me a headache. Damn…”

Rafe rolled his eyes and mumbled under his breath before searching around the table before picking up the plastic bag Barry had before. You figured whatever they were putting you out with wasn’t cocaine. And that’s what scared you the most when Rafe snatched you up and shoved another pinky-full up your nose, letting your drowsy frame fall back into the plushness of the sofa.

“JJ…BACK IN THE VAN!” What sounded like John B’s voice filled your ears. Your eyes cracked open little by little, your vision much more clear and less distorted than the last time you recall waking up. So many voices were speaking at once. Your eyes wandered, trying to find out who was talking to who. It was then you realized the entire world was sideways and you were inside of The Twinkie.

Your head was slightly more elevated than the rest of your body, causing you to turn and peer above you where you found Sarah’s wide eyes staring down at you, finally registering the feeling on her fingers running through your hair. Her eyes were slightly red and glossed over as she peered down at you.

You felt more conscious this time around — no paint smears, no muffled voices, and you felt like you had more control over your body. You were cold, so cold. Probably shivering.

Looking over, you found that the door of the van was open. You could see a group of people crowded in on each other. When your vision focused, you realized it your four other friends and they were surrounding Rafe and Barry.

“What is wrong with you?!” That was Kie’s voice. And you knew her well enough to hear the anger in voice. “What the hell do you want, huh? You should be in jail, you sick motherfucker!” It wasn’t long before the guys pushed her to the back of the circle, the girl yelling at Rafe through the blockade they’d formed in front of her.

“You Kooks think you can do whatever the fuck you want!” JJ shouted, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard it before. It was almost unrecognizable. “You wanna end up like your father? ‘Cause we can make it happen!-”

“The fuck’d you just say to me, you little shit?” Rafe countered, stepping closer to JJ as John B and Pope stepped closer to him.

“You heard me, bitch.” JJ spat, the small accent he had showing itself as he pushed his way through his two friends to stand toe-to-toe with Rafe.

“All y’all needa get the fuck off my property.” Barry added, standing beside Rafe, but his words went ignored.

“If you wanna do this, we can do it. ‘Cause I’ve been waiting to get my fuckin’ hands on you.” JJ warned. “You like to drug girls? Rape them? Hit them? Hit me. Hit me, you pussy-” Just then, Rafe clocked JJ in his jaw, the force and sound of the assault causing you to flinch in Sarah’s lap as John B and Pope caught their friend, Kie gasping behind them. You tried to sit up as you watched JJ’s head whip to the side, but Sarah was quick to force your weak frame back down.

You looked up at her with wide, glassy eyes. “Rafe’s gonna hurt him.” You said weakly, sounding like a scared child.

The blonde girl simply shook her head side to side. “I don’t think so.” She smiled weakly before looking back out at the brawl unfolding outside of the vehicle. “Not this time.”

Your own eyes refocused on the two guys just as JJ recovered from the blow, wasting no time in lunging at Rafe and sending the boy to the ground, allowing himself to deliver blow after blow. You couldn’t tell if he was landing them, you could only see one arm go up after the other, his fists coming down in a vicious frenzy.

Kiara was calling JJ’s name as Barry shook his head and backed up,n John B and Pope watching with their hands up. “Y’all gon’ have the cops pokin’ around here...” Barry said angrily, eyes on John B and Pope who stood by helplessly, shocked. “Get this shit under control, I don’t need them people on my radar!” The drug dealer urged, the commotion sure to disturb any nearby trailer owners.

John B and Pope looked at each other before John B peered back at you, an expression of sadness in his eyes.

Oh. You forgot…he didn’t know.

So, it wasn’t long before that sadness turned to anger as he turned back to Barry. “...We’ll leave when he’s done.” John B spat, referring to the two boys brawling in the grass before walking away and rounding the vehicle to get in the driver’s seat, Pope and Kie following and climbing into the back of the van quickly. Without those three blocking your field of view, you could clearly see the two boys now.

Rafe had managed to pick himself up but surprisingly, JJ still had the upper hand. But it was still a brutal brawl between the two, one not staying on top for long before being pinned by the other. Every few seconds, you could spot droplets of blood flying. It was an odd thing — on one hand, seeing Rafe get his ass handed to him almost put a dizzy smile on your face, but on the other hand, you knew he’d never stop coming after JJ now. Any chance he got...

Especially since now he probably got the hint that JJ had some sort of feelings for you. JJ didn’t come after him like a concerned friend, JJ lunged at him like a enraged boyfriend. JJ attacked him like someone who was in love with you. And after what Rafe said in the trailer, or at least what you remember of it, these two would be butting heads over a lot more than financial status.

When the blaring of sirens hit your ears, you perked up, as well as everyone else. But Rafe and JJ were too enthralled with trying to kill each other that they must not have heard anything.

The pogues began calling JJ’s name, trying to draw him out of his rage-induced assault to get back in the van. After a few moments, he finally registered their voices and the sound of the sirens. He forcefully pulled himself away from Rafe as the boy laid on the grass, heaving. JJ delivered one last glare to the boy on the ground, the blonde’s chest going up and down heavily as he turned and threw himself into the van.

“And don’t come ‘round here no more, you hear me?!” Barry’s voice traveled before Pope slammed the door shut, John B speeding off.

Your eyes were trained on JJ’s breathing figure — he had a small trail of blood going from his bottom lip to his chin, dirt on his shirt and in his hair, and his eyebrows were set into a permanent frown. You managed to meet his eyes for a second and he looked upset.

Upset with you?

KIARA AND SARAH HELPED YOU INSIDE THE CHATEAU AS THE GUYS HELD THE DOORS OPEN. What you didn’t expect was for Marley to come charging at you the second you stepped foot in the house. The girls let you go gently, allowing you to crouch down on your knees and embrace your dog.

She smelled like wet dirt and you could feel the outline of her ribcage as you rubbed her sides. Tears gathered in your eyes as you and Marley comforted each other. Your voice was still weak and scratchy as you spoke softly to the animal. If anything, after today, you should be grateful she was still alive.

“Hey,” John B spoke up, your eyes going to him. “We can hose her down in the backyard while you wash off.”

You drew your lips into a thin line, nodding your head in his direction as you stood up on shaky legs, Kie and Sarah putting a hand each on your back. He and Pope led Marley outside, JJ lagging behind. “JJ.” You called out. The blonde simply looked at you over his shoulder, chewing the inside of his lip before making his way outside with the other two guys.

Your shoulders fell at his cold demeanor. You guessed he was upset with you.

“It’s okay…” Sarah reassured, her hand rubbing your back as you frowned into the distance. “He just needs a second.” She told you, turning you in the direction of the bathroom, helping you walk alongside Kie who hadn't said much. “C’mon. We’ll help you get yourself together…”

WHEN YOU CAME OUT OF THE BATHROOM, the house was empty. The only living things inside being a sleeping Marley and you. She looked a lot cleaner, aside from the food remnants around her mouth. You smiled smally to yourself, admiring the animal for a moments before walking over to her, crouching down and placing a light kiss on the top of her head. She was so deep asleep that she didn’t stir, even a little.

You almost passed out a handful of times in the shower, the steam only contributing to the lightheadedness you felt but easing the neverending ache in your arms and legs. But you felt better — less disoriented. Less…gross.

You were dressed in one of JJ’s few sweatshirts and a pair of pajama shorts. All the time the two of you’d spent living together meant some of your clothes were still mixed in with one another’s. Your hair was slightly damp, the strands pulled back into a low bun to keep it out of your face.

Even though you felt more sober, you still felt like you were walking outside of your body and it was making you a bit nauseous. You spotted a bottle of aspirin on the kitchen counter, snatching it up and swallowing two pills.

Just then, you heard voices outside — low and faint, but there. You peered out of the small window in the kitchen , spotting John B and Pope laid out on the HMS Pogue. Everyone must’ve gone outside, you thought to yourself.

You slipped out the backdoor, bare feet on the grass as you walked in the direction of the two guys.

“What’re you two talking about?” Your voice was still off and scratchy but you were grateful that you could hear yourself talking. The two males turned to you, making out your figure in the dark of night as you squeezed into between them on the boat.

“How’re you feeling?” Pope was the first to ask, genuine concern swimming in his eyes.

You sent him a small smile. “Better.” You nodded. “...And I’m sorry. For putting you in a weird position, before I left. I shouldn’t have done that-”

“You don’t have to apologize.” He shook his head, patting your shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You mumbled a ‘thanks’ to the boy, patting the hand on your shoulder as he slid it off as you turned to John B who was already looking at you. You knew him the best out of all your friends. That’s why you could tell he was going from upset with you to sad all at once.

“Just say it.” You sighed, giving him the floor.

“...Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, squinting his eyes. “You’re like my sister. And not to sound weird but I love you, dude. I would’ve killed Rafe-”

“That’s why.” You cut him off, a pitiful frown on your face. “I didn’t need you doing anything stupid in my defense. And you were still torn up over your dad. We both were.”

He just huffed, turning away from you and shaking his head side to side as he crossed his arms. “...You still should’ve told me.”

“I know.” You nodded, sighing and sliding down to lay fully down next to your two friends. “Where is everyone?”

“Well, Kiara is out front doing…whatever. JJ has been pacing in the Surf Shack for like an hour, and Sarah...left.” He hesitated at the end of his statement, eyeing John B who just sighed deeply. You looked between them both, eyes stopping on John B.

“What happened?” You asked.

“We, uh…we broke up.”

“What?” You asked, shocked. “Why?”

“...She wasn’t the biggest fan of how I react to Ward blowing himself up.” He explained, shifting in his spot. “She said I looked glad. And I didn’t want to lie to her and say I wasn’t. Because I was.”

“I mean, I get it.” You threw out, looking up at the stars in the sky. “He killed your dad. He killed a lot of people…I think it’s okay to be glad he’s dead. But I also get her side. He was her dad. But she can’t expect you to feel the same.”

“Exactly what I said.” Pope chipped in. “How sad can you expect someone to be when their father’s murderer dies and they get to see it?”

“I don’t think it was that, though.” John B spoke up, his brows pinched. “She said that out of all people, she thought that I’d understand what it’s like to lose a dad. And I do and I feel like a dick for not comforting her in that moment and giving Topper the opportunity to swoop in but…I feel like she didn’t even give me a chance to be there for her.”

“...Love is five minutes of pleasure for a lifetime of pain.” Pope said sadly, you and John B turning to him silently with wide eyes. The boy turned to the both of you, the same expression plastered on his face.

“Okay…” John B groaned, sitting up from his position and leaning on his arm.. “You and Kie, talk to me. What’s goin’ on?”

“Well…” Pope said, sitting up as well as you just looked up at the two guys. “She wants to be just friends.”

John B and you sighed simultaneously. “Whooo, death blow.” JB said to him. “Sorry, man.”

“It’s not like I can say I didn’t see it coming. After what happened in Charleston…” Pope was explaining before he cut himself off, his wide eyes darting to you as he pressed his lips shut. But John B’s curiosity was peaked, and so was yours.

“What happened in Charleston?” The brunette boy asked, looking between the two of you.

Pope’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. You cocked an eyebrow, sitting up on your own elbow now. “So you did see it?”

Now he was the one looking confused, using his finger to point at you. “You saw it? I thought you were inside-”

“I was but I had just walked out when I saw them.”

“So, we both saw it?”

“Helloooo.” John B butted in, the two of you looking at him. “Third party is still here. Saw what?”

“The kiss.” You and Pope said at the same time, looking at him.

“Kiss? What kiss? Who kissed?” He asked, genuinely baffled.

“Kie and JJ.” The both of you said in sync again.

John B’s jaw dropped as he stuttered to find words. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding JJ?” He settled on his question, eyes on you.

“Yes…” You said squinting your eyes. “What would you know about that, though?” You asked, wondering when JB got the inside scoop on you and JJ’s newfound relationship.

“I mean, everyone could see he had a thing for you. For a looong time. Well, everyone but you…”

“Thank you.” Pope butted in, throwing his hands up in surrender when you shot him a glare. “I’m just saying, I wasn’t the only one who saw it.”

“And he kind of told me everything that happened while me and Sarah were gone.” John B smirked as you groaned. “But we’re getting off topic…” He waved his hands, dismissing the previous statements.

“Right.” Pope refocused. “I never said anything about the kiss to her or him. I just kind of hoped it was a spur of the moment thing and that it would just remain as that — a kiss. But then, she friendzoned me. And now I can’t help but think that she likes JJ. And I don’t know if JJ likes her, no offense Y/N...”

“He told me he doesn’t.” You butted in. “The day we got that call about what happened to your pops, we had an argument about it. He said that Kie initiated the kiss and it didn’t mean anything. To him, at least. I don’t know how much of it I believe but," You cut yourself off, shrugging. "And I can’t speak for Kiara…”

“Okay, here’s some not-so-friendly advice for the both of you from good ole Dr. Routledge,” John B piped up, a bright smile on his face. “You,” He pointed a Pope. “focus on your yourself and your books and…grades and shit. Forget about Kie, there’s plenty of fish in the sea. And you, Pope, are one handsome young man and I guarantee there is some girl out there willing to jump your bones and not kiss one of your best friends. And, you, little missy,” His attention turned to you. “If JJ says he doesn’t have feelings for her and the kiss didn’t mean anything, I’d believe him. He loves you and I don’t think he would do anything to purposefully screw up his chance with you. And please, for the love of God, be nice and talk to him. Hearing him whine about you not talking to him is going to drive me off a cliff.”

The three of you laughed before you turned to Pope, a light smile on your face. “So, you really just weren’t going to tell me?” You asked in faux-offense.

Pope faked shock, a hand on his chest. “Uh, me? I didn’t even know you and JJ had something going then. If anything, you should’ve been the one to tell me.”

“I didn’t want to upset you!” You laughed and groaned all at once.

“Yeah, yeah…” He waved you off lightheartedly. “Alright, next time we see something that would…affect the other person, we have to tell. Deal?” He asked, holding out his pinky.

“Ohhh, okay. We’ll be each others witnesses. I like this two person witness protection program.” You smiled, connecting your pinky with Pope’s. “Deal.”

YOU WERE IN THE GUEST ROOM WHEN THE DOOR CREAKED OPEN, a stream of light illuminating the dimly lit space — the only source of light being a bedside lamp. You thought everyone had gone to sleep.

Turning at the sound of the door, you found JJ closing the entryway behind him before he turned to you. You could hardly see his features, not enough light to see his face clearly. Neither of you said anything as he walked slowly towards you, walking around the bed.

He stopped in front of you, just inches between the both of you. Nothing was to be heard except your breathing and the cicadas outside.

“...What’s wrong with you?” He asked. His voice sounded strained, like he’d been crying. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You nodded, accepting his frustration towards you. Swallowing, you attempted to reply. “...I didn’t think-”

“Yeah, you didn’t think.” JJ cut you off. “You left without telling anyone. You went there alone. Why would you do that?”

“He wasn’t supposed to be there-”

“Anything could’ve happened to you. Anything.” JJ reprimanded, shifting closer to you subconsciously. “Do you know what is was like to hear, from Pope, that’d you left to go to Barry’s trailer hours ago? That you hadn’t answered any of his calls or texts that you said you’d answer? To ride all the way there with my heart beating out of my damn chest just to rush in and find you passed out on the couch with the your pants unbuttoned, confirming every single fear-”

“Nothing happened-”

“But something could have!” He lost himself, looking around as if someone heard as he licked his lips, one tear rolling down his cheek. “He tried to, clearly, and something could have.” He sighed, letting himself sit on the edge of the guest room bed, his head in his hands. “...You didn’t even know who I was when we woke you up the first time to put you in the van. You didn’t recognize any of us. You were completely out of it. I've never seen anyone like that...” He told you. You don’t recall waking up more than twice. Voices and colors here and there but…not much. “I know…that you think I took your trust and feelings and ran with them. But you can’t do things like that.” He said firmly, lifting his head to look at you. “I’m not blaming you. I just want you to understand that even if you’re mad at me or whoever, you can’t just abandon ship. Especially, not like that.”

He told you, reaching his hands out to grab your waist and pull you closer as you sniffled. You felt almost completely sober as you stood between his legs, the aspirin you took earlier taking effect.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his teary blue eyes boring into yours as he looked up at you. You bit your lip from the inside of your mouth as you nodded. “Okay…good.” He sighed, letting his head fall in relief before looking at you again. “I know the last few days have been…hard. Especially today. And I’m sorry that I put you in a place where you couldn’t even trust me as a friend anymore. But I don’t know how else to tell you or show you that I love you. And today just made me realize how badly I need you and how far I’m willing to go for you.” He said softly. “...There were so many reasons I didn’t tell you about the kiss. For one, it didn’t mean anything to me. Also the fact that I didn’t want to cause drama between you and Kie. But none of that matters because there was only one reason that I should’ve told you — because you deserved to know and because I promised I would. So, I am really sorry.”

You'd never heard JJ be this vulnerable and open. Or be so vulnerable and open this easily. It didn't seem practiced or rehearsed. It was like he was really letting his heart speak for him and right all his wrongs.

After what happened today, holding a grudge wasn't as appealing. Because you didn't know what could happen tomorrow.

“...I believe you. And I forgive you.” You said, eyes locked on his. “And I’m sorry, too. If I had told you guys where I was going then maybe-”

“Don’t even go there.” He stopped you, shaking his head. “Rafe is insane. What he and that fucking loser, Barry, did wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t have gone there alone, sure, but what happened wasn’t your fault.”

You just sent him a half-hearted smile. You know he meant it but you still felt at least partially to blame. You licked your lips and took a deep breath before speaking, your hands rubbing up and down the blonde’s exposed arms. “JJ…” You spoke, more like whispered.

Something in the way you looked at him changed. Something in the way you felt for him changed. “...I want you.” You felt the boy tense in your arms, lifting his head up more to look you directly in the eyes. “I don’t need any more time. I know what I want and I know how I feel. I love you. And I want you.”

“...Are you sure? Because you just went through something really terrible tonight-”

“I’m sure.” You interrupted him. “If I keep waiting until nothing bad happens to be with you, then we’ll never be together. This is our lives now. And even if we didn’t have all this death and drama around us, I would still love you.” You reassured, trailing your hands up to his shoulders as his soothed themselves up and down your waist. “You said you were all mine. So, now I’m all yours, if you want me…”

He had a look on his face that you couldn’t decipher. His eyes looked at each of yours and then landed on your lips, seeming to trace them before pulling you down into him and colliding his lips with yours. A small noise of surprise leaving your lips before you melted into the exchange. Your hands slid around the nape of his neck as his trailed the length of your thighs, helping you onto his lap.

His fingers pressed into your skin, passionately dragging his prints into your skin as your nails scraped at the skin of his scalp and shoulders. The kiss wasn’t like the ones before. Those were soft and gentle, testing the waters. This kiss was hungry and prolonged — feverish. So starved of each other that it probably would’ve had the potential to lead to something else if the day had gone differently.

But knowing JJ, after what happened tonight, any kind of sex was off the table. Ad you weren't sure when you'd be ready to go that far. But this was good enough. More than good enough. There wasn’t a single part of either of you that wasn’t touching. You couldn’t help but sigh when his warm hand went up under your shirt, his fingers clawing at your back as he pressed you endlessly closer against him.

You were confused when he pulled back — lips swollen and red as his hair stuck up in one-hundred different directions. He was breathing heavy when he spoke. “Sorry, sorry…” He said through labored breaths. “Just to be clear, you are my girlfriend, right-”

You couldn’t help but laugh and roll your eyes. “Yes, JJ, I’m your girlfriend.” You smiled. “I’m completely yours.” You sighed, eyeing his lips like an animal before connecting your lips with his once more, the both of you falling back into the mattress.

next chapter>

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 4 months ago

Text

Shadow and Paws

Chapter 3: Trust and Territory

Pairing: Task Force 141 x reader

AU: Hybrid 141 x reader

Warning: Mild Violence/Tension, Injury and Medical care briefly mentioned, mentions of isolation and survival

Authors Note: The reader’s nickname is Foxy, we get the chance to build more of a relationship between the reader and the boys!

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist | Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

Dawn was only a gray smudge on the horizon when Foxy woke, feeling the cool weight of the morning fog settled on the forest floor. The team was already stirring, shaking off the stiffness of a night in the woods and preparing for another day’s trek. Foxy made quick work of dousing the remaining embers of their fire, keenly aware of the silent eyes watching their every movement.

They’d stayed longer than planned, both sides testing the unspoken boundaries of trust. There was a growing familiarity between them—a faint, hesitant bond weaving itself into place. Price caught Foxy’s eye with a curt nod. “We’ll keep a steady pace,” he said. “You lead.”

Foxy gave a slight grin, checking their gear. “Think your boys can keep up?”

Soap rolled his eyes but bit back a retort, while Ghost’s silent, appraising gaze betrayed no reaction. Gaz, perched above in falcon form, scanned the trail ahead as they moved out.

They traveled in a silence broken only by the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional call of a distant bird. The terrain grew steeper, winding into dense clusters of trees, where every step required precision and awareness. They were heading deeper into rogue territory, and each of them felt the tension thickening, the unspoken need for unity pressing on them all.

After hours of careful travel, Foxy stopped short, raising a hand. “Ravine up ahead. Narrow, but deep. You’ll need to jump across, one by one,” they said, casting a knowing glance at Soap. “Or is that too much finesse for some of you?”

Soap grinned, never one to back down from a challenge. He took a few steps back, then launched himself across the gap, landing with a triumphant nod. Foxy’s expression betrayed a hint of approval as Gaz made a smooth glide over, his falcon wings catching the morning breeze. Ghost was next, his leap almost noiseless, landing without so much as a whisper of sound. Price was last, his jump solid and controlled, meeting Foxy’s gaze as he landed.

Foxy moved ahead, navigating through twisting trails and overgrown paths. The day stretched on, each step taking them deeper into territory that bore Foxy’s subtle mark: worn trails, signs of old camps, and hidden paths only someone deeply familiar with the land would know. Finally, they stopped at a secluded glade, sunlight filtering through the trees in muted streaks of green and gold.

Foxy set down their pack and pulled out a flask, taking a long drink before wiping their mouth with the back of their hand. “Get comfortable,” they said, glancing at the team. “We’re safe here, for now.”

Soap sidled up next to Foxy, ever curious. “So, Foxy, if you’ve been out here this long, you must have a story. What’s kept you here?”

Foxy’s gaze flicked to Soap, a flash of hesitation crossing their features. “Not much to tell,” they replied curtly. “Surviving is all there is to it.”

“Come on,” Soap pressed, flashing his easy smile. “We’re all out here for a reason. None of us would’ve lasted if we didn’t have one.”

Foxy’s gaze grew distant, their stance subtly guarded. “Another time, maybe,” they murmured, gently but firmly deflecting. Soap respected the boundary with a nod, though the curiosity in his eyes remained.

They settled into a comfortable silence, each member of the team adjusting to the newfound companionship. Price watched Foxy carefully, noting the way they held themselves—a confidence tempered by caution, the mark of someone who’d long walked alone.

After a while, Ghost’s voice broke the silence, low and steady. “What exactly are we up against here?”

Foxy’s gaze shifted, and for the first time, Price caught a flicker of something unguarded—a mixture of worry and resolve. “The rogues don’t play games,” they said. “They want control of this territory, and they’re ruthless. It doesn’t matter if you’re a hybrid or human; they’ll use you or kill you if it benefits them.”

Price’s jaw tightened, his protective instincts flaring. “And you’ve been handling them alone?”

Foxy shrugged, brushing off the concern. “Someone has to. They don’t care about anything but power, and they don’t belong here. That’s reason enough for me.”

There was a silence, heavy with respect, as each member of the team absorbed the reality of Foxy’s situation. Price gave a nod. “We’ll handle them together,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Foxy looked at him, a spark of defiance in their eyes, as if challenging him to mean it. But seeing his steady gaze, their shoulders relaxed just a fraction, and the faintest smile tugged at the corner of their lips. “Guess you might be good for something after all.”

As they trekked on, Foxy’s demeanor softened just enough for them to offer guidance, pointing out landmarks and hidden dangers with the ease of someone who had mapped these woods in their soul. Soap, ever eager, matched his pace with Foxy’s, peppering them with questions about everything from forest survival to the best way to navigate a rogue ambush.

The sun was beginning to sink low when they stopped by a small grove, and Foxy knelt by a patch of vibrant green underbrush, plucking a handful of small berries. “These can help if you’re injured,” they explained, crushing a few into a paste. “Stops the bleeding, at least.”

Soap looked at the mixture with interest. “You’ve got some tricks up your sleeve, huh?”

Foxy shrugged, a faint smile playing on their lips. “Only what I’ve needed to learn to survive.” They looked away, glancing at Soap’s hands, which bore old scars of their own, evidence of battles won and lost. “When you’re out here long enough, you pick things up.”

Gaz, quiet as ever, nodded. “We’re still here for a reason.”

Foxy’s smile grew, just a bit more genuine. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

As dusk fell, they set up camp again, each member settling into familiar routines. Foxy found themselves next to Ghost, who had been watching them from the corner of his eye all day.

“You’re still not sure about us, are you?” Ghost asked, his voice soft but direct.

Foxy looked at him, their gaze wary. “Trust isn’t something I give easily.”

“Nor do we,” Ghost replied, his tone unexpectedly gentle. “But it’s worth trying.”

Foxy held his gaze for a moment before giving a slow nod. “Maybe.”

When the fire crackled to life, casting a warm glow around the group, Price lifted his mug in a silent toast. “To the pack,” he said simply, his voice warm with solidarity.

Foxy’s expression softened, and they raised their own mug. “To the pack,” they echoed, the words carrying a weight that felt more honest than anything they’d said before.

The firelight danced between them, each shadow cast by the flames a reminder of the trust and companionship growing between them. And for the first time, Foxy allowed themselves to hope—just a bit—that even the fiercest of lone souls might find a place to belong.

——

End of Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

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awkwardauthorwrites · 1 year ago

Text

What If (You Were Made For Me)

Word Count: 6.2k

Themes: pining, angst if you squint, two idiots in love, fluff

Summary: Halsin realises he’s in love with his best friend, Tav

Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol. Like one swear word. I almost made myself cry writing this.

(I haven’t written since The Devil Doesn’t Bargain, please be nice. BG3 and specifically this druid has me in a chokehold, your honour I love this man, I am feral for him, he consumes my every waking and sleeping thought)

Halsin watched Tav from across the campfire, his brow furrowed as she spoke to Astarion with a smile on her face. She had been avoiding him recently and no matter how hard he wracked his brain, he couldn’t seem to put a finger on why. It had started small, with going on supply runs with anyone except for him until she gradually stopped training with him, she steered clear of his favourite parts of camp, and eventually it built up to her making excuses to not spend any more time with him than completely necessary. The explanations she gave always sounded sincere, but it had all been happening for weeks, and now there she was, sitting on the opposite end of the campfire instead of next to him and laughing and talking with Astarion.

He felt himself begin to frown as Tav gave Astarion a playful shove, a laugh escaping her as the rogue tried to wrap an arm around her shoulders to pull her back in. He watched with bated breath as Tav’s eyes lit up when Astarion held his hand out in front of her again, slowly showing her how he twirled a coin in between his fingers and how to make it look like it disappeared with a flourish. Halsin couldn’t understand it - it felt like only a few weeks ago that Tav and Astarion had regarded each other with cool indifference, but ever since the days they took to recuperate she had practically been glued to the rogue’s side. Tav took the coin from Astarion and attempted the sleight of hand herself, her face one of pure concentration. She made it to the final turn of the coin before she fumbled it and it slipped from her grasp, a low groan slipping from her as it fell to the floor.

Halsin didn’t want to admit how he was feeling as he watched them interact, but he hated it. His chest felt tight and his gut rolled with anger and jealousy. Especially when Astarion leant in to murmur something in Tav’s ear, his voice too low for Halsin to hear what he had said to make her face flush the most delicate shade of pink. She laughed again and shook her head, her nose wrinkling the way it did when she found something unbelievable. She nudged Astarion again, softer this time as he scoffed and stood up, stretching her arms above her head as she let the pale elf know she would be right back before she wandered into the treeline. Halsin watched her disappear from sight and wanted nothing more than to follow her and ask her what had happened, to figure out when everything had changed between them. The thing in his chest clenched tighter at his heart with every second she was gone and he was torn between waiting for her return or going after her.

“You know,” Astarion drawled, breaking Halsin out of his thoughts. “You can go after her, if you’d like.”

“And you can mind your own business,” Halsin snaps back, feeling unlike himself as he glares at the rogue. “She’s more than capable of taking care of herself, especially when she’ll only be gone a few moments.” To his credit, Astarion doesn’t flinch at the druid’s harsh tone or at the way his eyes flash gold in warning to reveal the beast that is itching to be released.

“Oh?” Astraion smirks, his fingers twirling the coin Tav had been holding earlier with practised ease. “With the way you’re acting like a scorned lover I never would have guessed. Green may be your colour but jealousy doesn’t suit you.” Halsin’s fists clench by his side and before he can even think about what he’s doing he’s stood from his seat and stalking his way across to Astarion, his jaw tight with anger and annoyance. The more rational part of his brain is telling him to calm down, that he can’t beat Astarion to a pulp just because he had struck a (annoyingly accurate) nerve, but the bear inside him is fighting its way out and wants to -

“Halsin,” Tav’s voice rings out from behind him, her tone sharp. He stops a few steps away from Astarion and turns to face her, his ire slowly seeping away as he looks at her. She looks equal parts confused and concerned at his out of character anger, although she also seems to be a little annoyed with him too from the glare she’s giving him. “I don’t know what Astarion said to piss you off, and I’m sure he deserves the punch you’re about to give him, but why don’t we leave the violence for the near daily threats we face, hm?” Her eyebrow is raised and she looks less than amused at the scene in front of her while Astarion dramatically places a hand on his chest, feigning outrage at her words.

“I…I apologise,” he mutters, embarrassment settling in his gut at his behaviour. He risks a glance at Astarion, who is watching him with vague interest and a hint of a smirk, before shaking his head and turning back to Tav. “I don’t know what came over me.” Her gaze softens as he looks back at her and she takes a few steps forward until she’s right in front of him, standing closer than she has been in weeks. Her hand grasps one of his fists to loosen his body language and she gently tugs at his sleeve.

“Come take a walk with me.” It’s not so much a request as a demand as she lets go of his sleeve and takes his hand in hers and begins to pull him away from the campfire. Astarion begins to whistle the tune for a bawdy ballad and without missing a step Tav leans down to grab a rock and throws it at his head. She doesn’t stop to see if it hit him or not (because of course it didn’t, thanks to his ability to uncannily dodge every blow that comes his way) and leads Halsin into the treeline, ignoring how loudly Astarion is laughing behind them.

“What’s happening? Is something wrong?” Her touch is like magic, and if he didn’t know any better he would think she’s cast a spell on him with how fast the tension leaves his body as he wraps his hand around hers. All the anger, the annoyance, the jealousy that he had been feeling earlier fades away as she pulls him deeper into the woods until they come across the small river they use to wash up in.

“You tell me,” she says, letting go of his arm once they reach their destination. She turns to face him, a fire in her eyes as she crosses her arms and looks up at him. “You’re the calmest person I have ever met. So tell me why you were about to swing at Astarion with more anger than I saw you direct at Minthara when she tried to raze the Grove to the ground.”

“Astarion-” Halsin breaks off, feeling slightly uneasy with the glare she’s directing at him. He had seen her use the look more times than he could count, but it was never directed at him. “It was nothing. It was stupid.”

“Clearly it wasn’t nothing because you looked seconds away from shifting into your bear form and ripping him to shreds,” she snaps. Halsin’s head dips down and he runs a hand through his hair warily as her tone suddenly makes him feel like he’s a boy all over again being chided by his tutors. Tav sighs and she steps forward slightly, her hand brushing his. “Look at me,” she says softly, the anger draining out of her voice.

Halsin lifts his head fractionally to look at her and sees nothing but kindness and concern in her gaze. Her expression is soft as she steps closer, and he itches to pull her into his arms and never let go but he can’t. He can’t because she is his closest friend and he doesn’t want to scare her away and despite believing the heart should be able to roam free he isn’t sure if hers belongs to Astarion or not and he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

“What did he say?” Tav asks again, her voice gentle. “I’ve never seen you that angry before, Hal, so it can’t have been stupid.” Halsin’s heart thuds in his chest as she steps so close he can feel the heat from her body, and the way the nickname she’s given him rolls off her lips makes him want to fall to her feet and beg for forgiveness.

“He called me a scorned lover,” he mumbles angrily, turning away from her again. His face feels hot under her gaze and he doesn’t have it in him to watch her reaction as he repeats the rogue’s words. “He insinuated I was jealous of him because you’re spending more time with him than me.”

“Oh.” Tav blinks, clearly not expecting that answer and stumbles back a few steps, her teeth tugging at her lower lip in a nervous habit that set Halsin on edge every time she did it. “So you...you were going to hit him? Because he made some false, asinine insinuation that he and I were together and I had tossed you aside?” Halsin can’t tell if she sounds angry or not and he’s suddenly apprehensive at replying to her. He can usually read her like the back of his hand - and she can do the same for him - so why couldn’t he tell what was running through her mind right now?

“Is it false?” he asks, turning to face her again, his voice quiet. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, you’ve been spending your time with him. How could I not think that?” Halsin knows he’s said the wrong thing the minute the fire flashes back in her eyes and she steps closer to him again, her finger prodding him in the chest as she speaks.

“So what if I was seeing him? We’re not together Halsin, we never have been. You don’t get to throw punches at every person I meet just because I spend a little time with them!” Her voice rises steadily as she speaks and she turns her back on him and takes a few steps away, a hand running through her hair in frustration before she whirls back to face him. “I’m not seeing Astarion, by the way, and not that it matters, but I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

“So why not me?” he blurts out, his eyes shining gold in suppressed rage. “Why is he the one you spend your time with and not me? Why does he get to steal you away from me? Why can’t I be the one to make you laugh for hours and be the sole recipient of your affection and time?”

“You-” Tav lets out a hollow laugh. “You’re joking, right? I’ve waited months - months - for you to stop looking at me like a child that needs protection. For you to look at me the way I’ve wanted you to since the moment we first spoke properly at that party after we saved the tieflings and the Grove. And now you start acting like you want me back?” She’s not shouting, but every word has Halsin flinching as if she had. “Now that I’ve finally decided I shouldn’t pine after you anymore because I’m nothing more than your best friend and you’ll never look at me the way I want you to?”

“You…” Halsin can feel his heart pudding in his chest at her revelation. He feels like someone has just yanked a rug out from underneath him and he’s free falling, but at the same time his heart soars knowing she feels the same way as he does. That she wants him just as much as he wants her. “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you just tell me?” He reaches out so he can touch her, so he can hold her. “I never thought…I didn’t want to let myself hope-”

“How could I tell you?” She steps away before he can touch her and he swears his heart cracks as her eyes go misty and tears begin to well up. “You’re my best friend, Halsin. How was I supposed to tell you that somewhere along these months of travelling you’ve tripped me up and I’m head over heels in love with you?” The tears fall down her face and she wipes at them angrily. “How was I supposed to tell you that after you slept with someone else only a few days after I drunkenly came onto you?”

He feels his heart shatter at the sight of her tears, as he vaguely recalls the evening she’s talking about. They had stopped for a much needed break at a tavern and every single one of them had gotten ridiculously drunk as they unwound for the night. She had come up to him, her face red from either the alcohol or nerves and had run a hand down his chest in a way that set every nerve of his alight as she seductively murmured in his ear and asked him to join her in her rooms for the night. He had declined, even though every part of him screamed not to. He didn’t want her to regret things in the morning when she woke and had a clear head, he didn’t want to put their friendship at risk like that. A few nights later in the same tavern an elven warrior had come over to him when they were all significantly less drunk and had barely finished propositioning him before he whisked them away to a room for the night.

“Tav,” his voice is hoarse and he feels like someone is running a sword through him. She never brought up asking him to sleep with her in the following days and he had assumed that meant she was embarrassed or didn’t remember doing it. When the elf had come up to him later and asked the same from him he never stopped to think about how it would make her feel. How it would look to anyone else. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” he asks eventually, “because you’re in love with me?”

“Yes,” she takes another step away from him as he tries to get closer. “I’m not proud of it, and seeing your face drop every time I made an excuse not to be around you felt like someone was shoving a dagger into my heart,” she puts her hand to her chest, the tears falling freely down her face now, “but I had to do it. You…you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more and I couldn’t be around you because it killed me to know you would never feel the same. The final nail in the coffin was when you slept with that elf. They were fucking stunning and I knew then you would never want me like I want you.”

“How can you say I don’t want you like that?” he rasps. “Have you not seen the way I’ve looked at you? Do you know how much effort it took to resist you?” He tries to inch closer to her, his body screaming to wipe her tears away and pull her into a tight embrace.

“Congratulations, would you like a medal?” Her tone is sarcastic as she slips away from his touch yet again. “Well done on showing some restraint with me when the Oak Father knows you’ll fuck anyone else with a pulse.” Her breathing is heavy as she glares at him in equal parts anger and heartbreak. “You thought Astarion and I had something going on and you almost ripped him to shreds. Imagine how it felt for me, watching you take someone else to your bed.”

“You’re right,” he admits. “How many times have I done this to you? How many times have I pushed you away, assuming I know what’s best for you when you’re more than capable of deciding yourself who you want to sleep with. Who you want to be with.” He takes a deep breath and he lowers his walls so she can see just how much she means to him. “You’re everything I want - everything I have ever wanted. And you always will be.” His words have the opposite effect he was hoping for and she sinks to the ground, a gut-wrenching sob leaving her as she covers her face and begins to cry.

He falls to his knees beside her, his arms reaching out to pull her into his embrace and tell her just how in love with her he is, but he hesitates inches away knowing she will only pull further away from him if he follows through. His hands land uselessly at his lap and he feels his own eyes burn as tears threaten to well up at the sound of her anguish. He blinks them away, he hasn’t earned the right to be upset, not when he’s hurt her so deeply.

“I understand if you don’t believe me,” he says instead, his voice low and full of emotion. “If you tell me to leave right now, I will. Or if it will make you feel better to yell at me some more I’ll stay and take it. I’ll do whatever you want - whatever you need.” He pauses, hoping the words he’s about to say don’t hurt her further. “Please believe me, Tav.”

“Would you have told me?” she asks, her voice thick with tears. “If you hadn’t thought I was with Astarion, would you have ever told me?” She looks up at him and her red-rimmed eyes only cleaves his heart further in two. “If you didn’t think my heart belonged to somebody else would you even have realised how you feel about me?” He pauses as she speaks; he doesn’t want to lie to her, but he knows in his soul she won’t be pleased with the answer he’s going to give her.

“No,” he whispers eventually. “It took seeing you with him to realise I was in love with you, and I wish every day that I hadn’t needed that reminder. I should have seen it the moment we met, the way you made me feel…” He lets out a shaky breath and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m an idiot.” Tav inhales sharply at his words and nods to herself, her jaw clenching tightly as if she’s trying to stop herself from falling apart again.

“Well, you won’t hear any arguments from me.” She looks up at him for a few seconds before she looks away again, tears welling back in her eyes as she stands up. “I’m tired. I’m going back to camp.” She doesn’t ask him to follow her, but he does anyway, stumbling to his feet as he follows her back through the trees. He walks in silence by her side as she leads them back to camp, his body heavy and his mind spinning. The one person he wanted in the world was right next to him and he had never felt so far away from her. They return to the camp and all eyes are on them, especially when they take note of the tears that have yet to dry on Tav’s face.

Astarion sits up as she walks over to him and throws her arms around his shoulders and begins to sob into his shirt. The vampire clearly doesn’t know how to react, but after a moment he wraps his arms back around Tav and holds her close, walking her away so that everyone in camp isn’t privy to her breakdown. Halsin bites the inside of his cheek and looks away as Astarion does what he can’t and comforts Tav as she cries. He knows now that she doesn’t have romantic feelings for the pale elf, but that doesn’t stop his chest from clenching tightly as Astarion’s hands rest on her waist and run through her hair comfortingly.

“You’re an idiot, you know,” Shadowheart sidles up to him, her tone dry. She has an unamused expression on her face as she stares up at Halsin, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Karalch gives her a gentle nudge and offers Halsin an apologetic smile.

“I know,” he agrees instantly. “I want nothing more than to give her the comfort he’s providing her right now, and it breaks my heart that I’ve caused her this much pain without even realising it. Seeing Astarion hold her like that…I wish it was me, but I’m glad she kind find some solace in someone here.”

“She doesn’t love him, you know. They’re only friends.” Shadowheart nods her head towards Tav and Astarion. “He’s been trying to help her catch your eye for a while now.” Halsin blinks, the information catching him off guard.

“Astarion is trying to help her?”

“And you,” Shadowheart turns her head to glare at him. “Astarion has been trying to help her with her confidence so she could test the waters and flirt a little with you. And then you had to go and reject her when she finally tried to tell you how she felt only to sleep with someone else a few days later?” The cleric looks mad now, and Halsin has no doubt in his mind that if they were in a more secluded part of the camp she would be yelling and cursing him out for treating Tav the way he had.

“Nothing I say will ever be able to erase what I did, no matter how much I wish it could.” He lets out a sigh and looks over at Astarion and Tav again. The rogue has pulled her across the camp to her tent and through the open flaps he can see she’s lying down on her bedroll, her head in Astarion’s lap as his fingers run through her hair. “How long has he been trying to help?”

“Does it matter?” Shadowheart asks, her tone sharp. “You never even looked twice at Tav until you thought Astarion was interested in her. No one wants to be made a choice after they become unobtainable - or in this case assumedly unobtainable.” There’s a soft expression on Astarion’s face as he comforts Tav, one Halsin has never seen before. For a split second he wonders if she’s better off without him in her life, whether that’s as a friend or more, but the selfish part of him can’t bear to leave her.

“Just give her some time, soldier,” Karlach steps forward, ignoring the glare Shadowheart shoots at her. “She’s hurt, it won’t do any good to speak to her right now, you’ll only push her further away. Give her a few days.” He gives Karlach a nod and looks back over at the campsite, wanting to disappear into the trees and give Tav the space she clearly needs, no matter how much it will hurt him.

Shadowheart and Karlach walk away, leaving Halsin alone again. He watches Astarion cup Tav’s face in her hands and wipe away the last of her tears, muttering something he’s too far away to hear before he kisses her on the forehead. Tav lets out a weak laugh and shakes her head, and the scene grips Halsin’s chest painfully tight. He shakes his head and walks back into the treeline, his eyes glowing gold as he shifts into his cave bear form and darts into the woods.

One Week Later

Halsin trudges back into camp, feeling weary and more than a little exhausted, and is a little surprised to see everything is still in its place and the group hasn’t moved on without him. He shifts back into his elf form, shuddering slightly as his body protests and walks towards his tent, giving awkward smiles and nods to Gale and Jaheira, who wave in greeting at him.

“Hey, soldier!” Karlach grins when she sees him, raising her tankard of ale in greeting as she bounds over. “Welcome back, it’s good to see you.” For a moment it looks like she’s about to pull Halsin into a hug, but decides against it at the last minute. She watches his eyes dart around the camp, no doubt looking for Tav or even Astarion, and his hopeful expression falls when he sees neither. “She’s in town gathering supplies,” the tiefling lowers her voice considerably so no one can hear them. “We’re running a little low after she all but forced us to stay here and wait for you to come back.” Halsin looks at her in surprise, but she just shrugs as if she hadn’t said anything and takes another sip of her drink.

“I assume Astarion has gone with her?”

“You assume wrong.” The white-haired elf walks by, a book in his hands. “I’d say it’s good to see you again but…” Astarion grimaces and takes in Halsin’s dishevelled appearance. A week of wandering through the woods as a bear has left him looking more than a little worse for wear, with dirt and dust covering him from head to toe, and what felt like a small bird’s nest worth of twigs tangled in his hair. “You look like shit. You should get cleaned up before she’s back, the gods know she’ll only be more upset at you dragging yourself back here looking half dead.” He walks away and settles outside his tent, sipping idly from a glass of wine as he continues to read.

“Wyll went with her,” Karlach fills the awkward silence. “We needed a lot, so he’s gone to help her carry everything.” Her gaze softens as she looks him over, taking note of his tangled hair and the dust on his clothes. “She’s missed you, you know. She’ll be glad you’re back.” Halsin feels something in his chest loosen at the words and he hopes the barbarian is right.

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“Soon, probably. I’m not saying Astarion was right but uh…you might want to consider getting cleaned up before then. No offence,” Karlach wrinkles her nose playfully and Halsin can’t help but let out a quiet chuckle, the sound foreign to his ears. He runs a hand through his hair, wincing as he catches on a large knot and lets out a quiet sigh. The thought of Tav coming back to see the state he’s in pushes him to move, and he mutters a quick see you later to Karlach before making his way to his tent to grab some clean clothes and his supplies.

He’s soon down by the river, trying not to think about the last time he stood there and the heartbreak on Tav’s face as he strips down and scrubs the week in the forest from his body and his dirty clothes. He pulls more twigs and leaves out than he thought possible and it isn’t long before he’s walking back to camp, a towel slung over his shoulder and his now cleaned and dry outfit in his hands while he wears fresh clothes. Karlach is still drinking when he returns, her feet propped up on a bench as she basks in the sun, Shadowheart curled beside her as she sips from her own goblet.

“Halsin?” He would recognise her voice anywhere. He turns around to see Tav a few feet away, a large supply pack hanging from her shoulder. It falls to the floor with a thump as she takes a hesitant step forward. “Is it really you? Are you back?” Her voice is as soft as a whisper, and he barely registers as Wyll picks her discarded pack up and walks away, giving them both some much needed space. Halsin feels like his heart is caught in his throat. All at once he wants to pull her into his arms, he wants to fall to the floor in front of her and beg forgiveness, he wants to hide from her again but he also wants to yell from the mountains that he loves her and will do anything to fix what he broke.

“Oak Father’s blessings, Tav,” he places his fist on his chest in greeting, his voice hoarse. He takes a small step closer to her before hesitating. He wants her to decide where they go from here. She is all he wants, but he doesn’t want to push himself onto her. He doesn’t have time to finish the thought in his head before she’s dashing across the camp and throwing herself at him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders tightly, her legs dangling because of their height difference. Her head is buried in his neck and for a moment he forgets how to breathe let alone hug her back. He’s stunned for a few moments, and more than a little relieved that she hasn’t outright told him to shove off, and his arms wrap around her waist, holding her close. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice catching in his throat. “I’m so sorry.”

She doesn’t reply, and instead she holds onto him a little tighter and he can feel the collar of his short go damp as she begins to cry silently. His eyes slip closed as he pulls her closer and he wills himself to keep it together as he uses one of his arms to grip her legs, prompting her to wrap them around his waist so that they aren’t dangling in midair. He presses a kiss to her forehead, his heart stuttering as she doesn’t pull away or snap at him not to touch her and he’s only vaguely aware that the rest of the camp is being ushered away by Shadowheart and Karlach so the pair can have their moment. Once everyone has disappeared, Tav pulls back and steps out of Halsin’s arms. He itches to pull her back but the glare she’s sending him makes him reconsider.

“Don’t ever do that again!” she snaps, pushing him slightly. She doesn’t do it with enough force to move him, but surprise and confusion flits across his face. “You can’t just disappear like that for a week, Halsin! No one knew where you were, you didn’t leave a note - what if something had happened to you? How was I supposed to know you weren’t hurt or captured or even dead?”

His mouth flops open uselessly at her reprimand, an apology on the tip of his tongue that suddenly feels unbearingly inadequate. He can see it on the exhaustion on her face, in the dark rings under her eyes. He thought leaving and giving her some space was the right thing to do, but just like when he had slept with that elf he hadn’t stopped to consider how it would make her feel. At the time he didn’t think she would care he was gone - she was an inconsolable wreck when he left - he hadn’t realised that Tav, let alone anyone else, would have no way of getting into touch with him while he was away. The silence between them is so loud that his ears ring, and yet he still can’t find the words to say. Sorry doesn’t even begin to cover the pain he’s put her through.

“You’re… you’re not hurt, right?” she asks, the anger leaving her voice as she stares at him, assessing him for any damage that she can’t see. He tries to respond with a quip or a clever comment, but he can’t. The guilt weighs too heavy on his heart right now.

“My pride, perhaps.” He offers her a weak smile as she scrutinises him. “I didn’t mean to worry you while I was away. I just wanted to give you some space.” She opens her mouth to reply but it seems it’s her turn to be unsure of what to say. She wraps her arms around her waist and looks around at the now empty camp and tilts her head towards the unlit fire.

“We should probably talk. I promise I won’t shout and poke you this time.” A weak smile falls on her lips as she makes her way over and sits down on one of the logs. Halsin gives her a weak smile and follows, sitting on the tree stump opposite her. He has so many thoughts rushing through his mind, so many things he wants to say to her, but when he opens his mouth to say them all that comes out is an incoherent mumble followed by a low sigh.

“I don’t know where to start, either,” she laughs nervously and runs a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry for how I reacted last week. I didn’t mean to explode on you. It’s not an excuse, but I was just so hurt and angry and I felt a little betrayed and…I’m sorry.”

“I deserved it.”

“Maybe,” she gives him a faint, teasing smile and he feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. “Hal…” She hesitates again, chewing on her lower lip. “Did you mean what you told me? When you said I was everything you want and that you-” she breaks off, her face flushing, but the words hang in the air. Did he mean it when he said he loved her? His face softens and he nods.

“I did. I meant every word and I still do.” His voice is soft as he slides into a seat closer to her and holds a hand out in offering. He’ll let her decide if she wants to take it. From here on out she makes the calls on where they stand. He can live with being just a friend to her if it means having her in his life. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way about me anymore, given all that’s happened, but I want you to know.” She fidgets in her seat and her face turns the most enticing shade of pink as she places her hand in his and squeezes gently. Halsin has to struggle not to pull her onto his lap and wrap his arms around her, but he reminds himself that she’s in charge here.

“I meant what I said too. Somewhere along the way while we’ve travelled I...I just fell so hard and fast for you. You mean the entire world to me, Hal. I don’t know what I would do without you.” She swallows and looks up at him and how did he ever think she didn’t have feelings for him when she looked at him like that? He was blind to have not seen it before. “I’m not going to lie, it stings that you only wanted me after you thought I was taken by someone else. But...I’m selfish. I love you, Hal. I-I’m putting my heart on the line here, I want to be with you. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine.”

“Tav,” he whispers, pushing himself to his knees in front of her. “My heart does not stir easily, but…” he pauses to let out a quiet, warm chuckle. “I feel like it never truly started beating until I met you. Nature outdid itself with you, and the Oak Father will have truly blessed me if he allowed you to be by my side. My heart is yours, as is every other part of me.” Tav lets out a breathless laugh at his words and sinks down so she is also kneeling in front of him, her hand winding around his shoulders so she can fiddle with his unbound hair.

“And mine is yours,” she murmurs, a smile flitting across her face as his hands come to rest on her waist. He pulls her onto his lap like he’s wanted to since he first realised he had fallen for her, and he’s rewarded with a beautiful blush and coy smile.

“You’re all I want. I don’t even want to look at anyone else but you.” He leans in, his lips brushing across her jaw softly before he places a kiss on her cheek. “My love, my heart, my soul; they’re all yours.” Her breathing hitches and her fingers tangle themselves in her hair in response and she leans in, her lips a breath away from his

“Halsin, may I kiss you?”

“I was hoping you would ask.” He closes the gap between them, his lips brushing hers tenderly once, twice and a third time before he grips her hips and kisses her like he’ll never have the chance to again. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the feeling of her hands in his hair, or the sweet sounds she makes as he pulls her impossibly closer, but he relishes the feeling all the same as they more than make up for their lost time.

#halsin fanfiction #halsin x tav #halsin x y/n #halsin x you #halsin x reader #halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin x fem!reader #halsin fluff #halsin angst #astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #awkwardauthormasterlist #awkwardauthorwrites #awkwardauthor

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its-avalon-08 · 10 months ago

Note

Hey lovely, can i make a request for Daniel Ricciardo fic based on But daddy i love him by Taylor? You can have free reign on it, but just that line "me and my wild boy and all of his wild joy" is so Daniel and has been stuck in my head for ages. Something fluffy and funny, so whatever you want (maybe even a pregnancy reveal 👀👀) if you see fit i just love that song and it's so big ric coded.

Love your work!!! Thank you so much 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

but daddy i love him (dr3)

(please bear with me this one is extra long, ily all)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

the start of the most beautiful things in y/n's life were often masked by difficulties and plagued with the anxieties of life. but when danny was around, things just fell into place. time seemed to stop and the fast paced world began to still.

clutching their pearls, sighing "what a mess"

the air in your childhood home crackled with a tension thicker than the gravy simmering on the stove. you sat across from danny, his smile a little too wide, your dad's gaze narrowed like a hawk eyeing a squirrel.

"so, danny," your dad began, his voice gruff, "you're a… racing driver, is that right?"

"yes sir," danny chimed, a touch too enthusiastically. "formula one, actually! just signed with mclaren for next season."

your dad grunted, poking his mashed potatoes with a fork. "formula one, huh? sounds… dangerous."

"it can be," danny admitted, "but safety's paramount these days, you know?" he flashed a winning grin. "plus, the adrenaline rush? unbelievable."

your dad snorted. "adrenaline rush. sounds like you live life on the edge, son."

you shot your dad a warning glare. "dad, be nice."

he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "honey, I just want to make sure he's responsible. you deserve someone stable, someone who won't make you worry constantly."

"dad!" you exclaimed, cheeks burning. "he's not a reckless teenager, he's a professional athlete! and he takes care of himself."

screaming "but daddy i love him!"

danny, bless his heart, interjected, "exactly! I train like a champion, eat healthy, the whole nine yards. your daughter's in good hands, sir."

the tension remained, a thick fog in the air. dinner progressed in tense silence, punctuated only by the clinking of cutlery. you stole glances at danny, his usual sunny disposition dampened. it broke your heart.

suddenly, your dad cleared his throat. "so, danny," he began, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "you said you race for mclaren? ever met lewis hamilton?"

you watched in surprise as danny's face lit up. "met him? I race alongside him! absolute legend, that man. we have some epic battles on the track."

for the next hour, the conversation flowed. your dad, a former racing enthusiast himself, peppered danny with questions about the sport, its history, the intricacies of car setup. danny, more than happy to oblige, regaled him with stories, technical details, even pulling out his phone to show pictures of him with lewis.

by the end of the night, your dad was chuckling at a particularly funny anecdote about a rogue pigeon causing a pit stop delay. he clapped danny on the back with a newfound warmth. "alright, alright, danny. you alright in my book. just take care of my daughter, you hear?"

danny, his grin back in full force, squeezed your hand. "wouldn't dream of it, sir. consider yourself one of my biggest fans from now on."

as you walked danny to his car later, a comfortable silence settled between you. "thanks for being patient with him," you whispered, leaning into his side.

i know he's crazy but he's the one i want

he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "your dad just wants the best for you, that's all. and seeing you happy… that's all I want too." he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. "besides, I think I scored some serious brownie points tonight, wouldn't you say?"

you laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet night. "maybe just enough to convince him that a formula one driver can be perfectly responsible... especially when he makes my daughter this happy."

time skip

the sun beat down on the golden sands of miami beach, the gentle waves lapping at the shore lulling you into a state of pure bliss. sprawled out on your beach towel, sunglasses perched on your nose, you were lost in a trashy romance novel, the sound of danny's playful laughter occasionally breaking through your concentration.

suddenly, a shadow fell over you. you peeked over your sunglasses to see danny, a mischievous glint in his eyes, standing over you. before you could even register what was happening, he swooped down, scooping you up in his arms like a prize.

now i'm dancing in my dress in the sun and

"hey!" you shrieked, a surprised laugh escaping your lips. the book tumbled into the sand, forgotten.

with a triumphant yell, danny sprinted towards the ocean. the cool water rushed at you as he plunged in, carrying you with him. you shrieked again, this time with delight, water splashing everywhere.

when danny finally set you down, the waves lapping at your waists, you couldn't help but grin at him. his hair was plastered to his forehead, and a carefree smile stretched across his face.

i'm his lady, and oh my god

"you're a menace, ricciardo!" you exclaimed, shaking your head playfully.

he just laughed, the sound echoing across the beach. then, in a flash, he was pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. you giggled as he dipped you backwards, the cool water washing over you both.

when he pulled you back up, his eyes held a playful fire. before you could say anything, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was warm, sweet, and tasted faintly of salt. you melted into him, the world around you fading away.

me and my wild boy and all of this wild joy

the kiss ended with a sigh, foreheads resting against each other. you looked into his eyes, their blue depths sparkling with love and adoration.

"you're crazy," you whispered, a smile blooming on your face.

"only for you," he replied, his voice husky. he brushed a stray strand of hair from your cheek, his thumb gently tracing the curve of your jaw.

you sighed contentedly, leaning into his touch. in that moment, with the sun warming your skin, the sound of the waves crashing in your ears, and danny by your side, everything felt perfect. you wouldn't trade this feeling for the world.

time skip

you fidgeted with the hotel room balcony railing, the bustling city of monaco blurring below. danny, oblivious, was humming along to the pre-race hype blaring from the tv. today was his big day, the monaco grand prix, and the nervous energy crackling in the air was almost tangible. you, however, were grappling with a different kind of jitters.

taking a deep breath, you approached him, the small velvet box clutched tightly in your hand. "danny," you began, voice barely above a whisper. he glanced up, a dazzling smile splitting his face.

"hey there, sunshine," he said, reaching out to pull you into a quick hug. "ready for the race?"

"actually," you mumbled, biting your lip, "there's something I need to tell you before you go."

he frowned playfully, his brow crinkling in mock seriousness. "is it that you secretly placed a giant shoey on toto wolff's yacht?"

you laughed, a little relieved at the lighter mood. "no, nothing like that. it's… well, it's important."

he set the tv remote down, his smile softening. "alright, come here," he patted the space next to him on the plush couch. you sat down, fiddling with the box in your lap. the words seemed to get stuck in your throat, a tangled mess of nerves.

"danny," you tried again, voice shaking slightly, "we might need to… postpone those post-race victory celebrations."

now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned

he chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "losing faith in your honey badger already? don't worry, I've got this."

frustration bubbled up. "no, it's not that! it's… it's…" you squeezed the box so hard your knuckles turned white. "i'm pregnant, danny!"

the playful smile vanished, replaced by a look of utter confusion. "pre… what now?" he asked, brow furrowed.

panic clawed at you. was this the wrong approach? "pregnant! as in, a baby, danny! we're having a baby!" you blurted out, your voice bordering on a squeak.

i'm having his baby

the confusion on his face morphed into a look of dawning realization. his eyes widened, then welled up with tears. a choked sob escaped his lips. he whipped his head towards the balcony door and threw it open, a joyous yell erupting from his throat.

"we're having a baby!" he bellowed across the bustling streets of monte carlo, his voice thick with emotion.

i know he's crazy but he's the one i want

he turned back to you, a goofy grin splitting his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. before you could even react, he swept you into a tight embrace, the box tumbling onto the floor with a soft thud. he squeezed you like a lifeline, muttering incoherent words of joy into your hair.

his emotions were infectious. you clung to him, tears welling up in your own eyes. he pulled back, his hands cupping your face. he peppered your cheeks, forehead, your nose, with kisses, every kiss filled with a love so profound it took your breath away.

"this is… this is incredible, y/n," he finally managed to say, his voice hoarse. he pulled you close again, resting his forehead against yours. "we're having a baby. we're going to be parents."

he was chaos, he was revelry

the celebratory noises from outside were a distant hum, drowned out by the frantic thumping of your heart and the overwhelming sense of happiness washing over you. in that moment, in danny's arms, with the promise of a new life growing inside you, the world seemed to shimmer with possibility. you couldn't wait to start this incredible adventure together.

but oh my god you should see your faces

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flippinpancakes64 · 7 months ago

Note

the cullens with a vampire hunter reader that will NOT harm the Cullens?

The Cullens with a Vampire Hunter! Reader

Writing this as I’m waiting for food at the Texas Roadhouse lol

Also I watched Longlegs today talk about a weird ass movie. It was good though, I would recommend it if you're into weird horror.

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He doesn’t trust you at first

Instantly, he knows what you are

He can hear your thoughts and how you intend to harm vampires

He warns the family about you

You had heard about a family of vampires who didn’t harm people, but you didn’t believe it

You were convinced that it had to all be an elaborate lie

But when you see one of them in public, it's instantly obvious

The golden eyes, the calm demeanor, etc.

He takes a while to warm up to you, he still doesn't trust you entirely

But when some opposing vampires come into the area and you fight with the Cullens, he stands corrected

He helps you fight other vampires lol

He doesn't like them either

He follows you all around the world to go hunting

He loves it

Alice:

She sees you coming in a vision

She sees you holding a vampire's head as they wither away into smoke

And then she sees a flash of you crossing the line into whatever town they are in

She warns everyone that you are coming

And when you arrive, you almost get into a battle

But then you see that the Cullens are different

In the moment that you hesitate and choose not to attack, Alice gets a flash of the two of you together in the future

She declares that you're not a threat

She trusts you fully from the beginning

She gets a bit wary just because she's worried that if Jasper slips at all that you might attack him

Just reassure her that you won't <3

Jasper:

You had been tailing him for a while through the college campus

He didn't know who you were or what you wanted

All you knew was that he was far too beautiful and graceful to be human

But one day you sat next to him in the cafeteria and you saw his newly golden eyes from him having just fed yesterday

He could feel the shock from you

When he turned to fully look at you it was like he could feel the connection

After you two talk for a while, he learns that you're a vampire hunter

He gets a bit nervous after that

I feel like he's probably run into some trouble with hunters before

So yeah he's a bit scared

He takes a while to warm up to you

But after you reassure him multiple times that you are not a threat to him or his family, he relaxes

He also tells you about all of his troubles with cravings

He feels so much better that you're so patient with him

Rosalie:

Yeah she doesn't trust you at all

She's already not a huge fan of humans

But someone who poses a threat to her family who she will never admit that she cares about? Yeah no

She will be the last one to warm up to you guaranteed

And it will take a while

She needs to be 100% certain that you aren't gonna hurt them

I feel like it would take one last big push for her to really start trusting you

Like an attack from a rogue vampire that you help fight

That will kick into her mind that you really do care and mean no harm

After that she hangs out with you a bit more

But don't expect too much

At least not a first

Just give her time, she'll come around

Emmett:

He's one of the quickest to trust you

I feel like after a couple of days of you not trying to kill them he's like "good enough for me"

He's just really curious about how you do it

I mean, it takes him a bit of force to kill a vampire, so how does a human do it

He wants to go hunting with you

He just thinks it's fun

Every once in a while, it's very rewarding to pick on someone your own size

He would make jokes about your profession if you ever say he's annoying you

"Emmett. Stop tapping my head, I'm busy"

"Or what? You gonna kill me?"

And then he acts shocked when you hit him on the head

Esme:

She's very worried

The last thing she wants is danger to come to her family

But at her core she is a loving and accepting person

So it doesn't take her long to warm up to you

She is still pretty wary around you, she doesn't truly know what to expect after all

But having you around is a pretty big comfort to her

Just knowing that there's one more person who's able to defend each other should the need arise

She is also very curious about what exactly it is that you do, but she does not want to be a part of that

Not her cup of tea

Carlisle:

Another one who has encountered vampire hunters before

Only, the last ones he interacted with didn't care that he didn't hurt humans, they just wanted him dead

So it's a very pleasant surprise when you don't instantly try to kill him

You explain that you heard rumors of a big vampire clan that was completely docile and you needed to see it for yourself

He's very curious to hear about all of your adventures

But he's also not going to go hunting with you

He has other things to do

He does trust you pretty early on, though

His thought process is that if you wanted to try to kill them then you would have done it already

And Edward or Alice would have told him something's up

Vampire! Bella:

She's pretty extreme

When you first show up and reveal what you are, she is ready to attack no questions asked

But as soon as Edward and Alice confirm that you're not a threat, she is instantly your bestie

In like a casual way though

She's so curious, she wants to know everything

She becomes attached at the hip for a while

And yes she does want to go kick some vampire ass with you

She's so down

101 notes · View notes

mangoisms · 2 years ago

Text

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter one: on my way to circle k

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.3k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

The Slurpee machine is broken again.

It isn’t that big of an issue, not particularly world-ending, no, especially since you get regularly held at gunpoint (or knifepoint) and occasionally used as a hostage.

But for you, working the night shift from eleven PM to seven AM, you kind of need the sugar boost. The Slurpees are easier on your stomach than the coffee is. Even if they do stain your mouth.

You sigh, continuing to stare at the machine; it whirs and sputters strangely and you set aside the cup to shut it off. You’ll also need to file the paperwork for it to be fixed. That seriously blows.

You get it unplugged just as the gust of wind hits.

You stumble. Shelves groan in protest. Several rows of granola bars and trail mix are sent flying.

Oh, great, who is it now—

You hear your name in a question, from a very familiar voice.

You spit out a mouthful of your hair. “Flash?”

Sure enough, in the flesh, the Flash grins at you, blue lightning fading from his body. He spreads his arms as he exclaims your name again.

In a blink, he is there, arms wrapping around you, lifting you off the ground as he squeezes the life out of you. Another blink and you’re on the ground, looking at him, his hand on your shoulder.

“Look at you, kid. It’s good to see you. I can’t believe you’re still working here.”

A stupid grin forms on your lips. “It’s not the same here without you eating up our inventory.”

He laughs. “I bet!”

You shake your head, fixing your hair and your shirt. Flash notices the state of the granola bars and trail mix, sends you an apologetic smile, and in the next blink, they are back on the shelves, neatly arranged.

“So, what brings you here? If you can answer that.”

He waves a hand, flitting around, emptying the sausage grill and making himself several hot dogs.

“One of the rogues got a little, shall we say, ambitious and wanted to try his luck here. Just trying to snatch him up before Batman finds out.”

“Let me guess—Trickster?”

He points a hot dog loaded with mustard and ketchup at you. “Bingo.”

“It’s dripping.”

“Aw, shit.” He shoves the rest of the hot dog in his mouth, grabs a napkin, and starts dabbing at the spot of mustard on his suit.

You watch him, amused, but also morbidly fascinated as usual at seeing him eat so much. When he finishes the hot dogs, he goes for the pizza. It makes sense when you think about it, that a guy who can run faster than the speed of light should need to eat so much, but it’s been a while since you’ve had the pleasure of watching him refuel. Six months, actually, since you returned from Keystone City.

You scratch your head. “I’m not sure why Trickster would want to come here. Batman, I think, is a worse punishment than you—”

“Agree, even if that’s also a little insulting to me.”

“Oh, you know what I mean. You’re avoiding him, aren’t you?”

Flash nods. “This is true. Carry on.”

“Well… Gotham already has a joke-themed guy. I don’t think Joker is going to take too kindly to someone encroaching on that. Unless he’s back in Arkham. Though he might’ve escaped again…”

“Y’see, that’s what I thought. It’s gonna sound bad, too, but I’m kinda hoping those two take care of each other, then I can get Trickster back to Iron Heights without any issues. But—”

You crack a smile, guessing his next words immediately. “When is it ever that easy?”

You had once believed the Flash to be just about infallible. After all, he is the Flash. This is the guy who, like you said, can run faster than the speed of light. He can canvas a city in under a minute. That’s how he takes care of Central City and Keystone City. (Well, the addition of the other Flash and Kid Flash probably help, too, but you know.)

But it’s not that easy. It’s why, you think, Metropolis has issues, even when they have Superman.

No rest for the wicked and all.

“Well, it’s still good to see you,” you say, a tad more hesitantly this time. Unsure if you can say that.

Flash looks back at you, sending you a warm smile. “It’s good to see you, too. How’s school?”

“No classes now. Financial aid doesn’t cover the summer, so.”

He frowns. “You’re still on track to graduate next year, though, right?”

You pause, surprised he remembered you saying that. “Yeah, yeah, I am.”

Flash nods, worries assuaged, then his gaze strays to the Slurpee machine, its lights turned off. “Aw, it’s not working?”

“Not today, sorry.”

He purses his lips, head tilting as he looks at the counter where the machine and your abandoned cup are.

“Wait a second,” he says, then the food that was in his hands is on the counter and he’s gone with arcs of blue lightning following him, a tingly feeling spreading through your fingertips and toes, like when you used to be a kid and dragged your hands across those old TV screens, feeling the static.

True to his word, in the next second, he is in front of you, two Slurpees in hand. One blue raspberry and another cherry.

You grin as he proudly presents the blue raspberry Slurpee to you.

“Thanks.”

He winks. “My pleasure.”

He collects his food again then gestures to the front with his head. Sipping at the ice-cold Slurpee, you follow him, sliding behind the counter.

“Time to head off?” you guess, ringing up the food he already ate, then the rest of the stuff.

He slips out a few bills from a hidden pocket at his hip. “Yeah, I need to go before—”

“Flash!” The door opens roughly. You balk as you see who it is. “Seriously? You can’t just run off. You’re just as bad as Impulse sometimes, I swear.”

Red Robin stands there, hands on his hips, scowling, doing a good impression of a teacher scolding a student, which is really weird for you, since you’ve always held a good dose of fear and respect for the Bats and this doesn’t really… go on par with that. And also, you’re pretty sure Flash is older than him.

Flash frowns. “Now that’s seriously uncalled for. I’m much better than he is. We were done talking, weren’t we? You’d call me if you found anything and it’s not like it would take me time to get there, would it?”

Red Robin doesn’t respond to that, mostly because he’s looking at you now. You’ve never seen him up close — any of them up close. Black fair falls sharply over his forehead, a black domino mask hiding his eyes. Not like a normal one; this one allows for more coverage under his eyes, going down to his nose, the end of which curves in a way reminiscent of a bird. But under the bright fluorescents of Circle K, everything else is easy to make out. Pale skin, a sharp jaw, a soft-looking mouth.

Great. He’s hot. And something else… something that niggles at you. Familiar in a way that bothers you because you’ve never seen him in person. Not like this.

You swallow nervously, giving him a half-hearted wave. The action jars him and he looks away from you quickly.

“Hey, don’t be mean to her,” Flash chides. “Seriously. Look at her. You’ve made her nervous.”

“Flash.”

He shoots you a troublesome grin. “Nah, don’t worry about him, kid. He’s harmless.”

“Flash,” Red Robin hisses out, his voice sounding stranger than before, modulated, in a way.

You compose yourself, giving Flash a look. “You know better than that. Perception means everything.”

“That is true,” he says. “But believe me. If fear worked as well as they’d like it to, Gotham would be the safest city in the country.”

A long-suffering sigh. Red Robin is turned away now and by the movement of his arm, pinching the bridge of his nose, exasperated.

“Hey, I’m not wrong,” he says to him, even despite you silently waving for him to drop it. “Look, fear is fine and all. But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with nurturing relationships with the people you protect. That’s what I did with you, isn’t it, kid?”

“Yeah, but I’m also not, you know, from there…”

He collects his change. “Which is why it’s even more embarrassing that these guys make you nervous and I don’t.”

Red Robin huffs.

Flash shrugs, smirking. “Just food for thought. I’ll see you around, yeah, kiddo? Gotta get going before this guy gets annoyed enough to just tell Batman about me and then I’ll really have problems.”

Then he’s gone, blue lightning arcing in his wake. Red Robin sighs again and leaves without a word or backward glance.

You stand there for a minute, unsure if that really happened. But the signature Slurpee cup of blue raspberry, already sweating because the June heat in Gotham is unbearable and the AC is not up to task, assures you very much that that did just happen.

A little unsteady, you take a seat on the stool, shaking your head and dragging the cup to you.

At least you got to see Flash again.

You don’t see him again, which is what you expected.

What you don’t expect is the appearance of Red Robin the next night.

You’ve grown up in Gotham City. Like anyone else, you have a healthy dose of fear and respect for the vigilantes that prowl the shadows. You also, unlike Vicki Vale or any journalist or obsessive conspiracy theorist, have absolutely zero interest in interacting with them.

Usually, interacting with them means you are in grave danger.

(You had to unlearn some of that during your brief tenure in Keystone City; the Flash was a little bit different from them. Maybe more than a little bit…)

So, when Red Robin shows up at Circle K at half past one in the morning, you are… a tad wary.

It doesn’t help that he seems awkwardly frozen, too, as your voice catches in the middle of your perfunctory Hi, welcome in as you realize who it is.

For a minute, it is painfully, painfully quiet.

“Is there something—”

“Do you have any—”

You both stop. You purse your lips. Red Robin is… blushing a little bit? Holy shit.

“Go ahead,” he says, clearing his throat after. His voice still sounds off like yesterday—modulated.

You grimace. “Sorry, I was just asking if there was something going on? Should I lock down the shop or hide or something?”

He looks briefly confused. “No? I mean, no… Everything is fine. I was just wondering if you guys had any, uh—” he seems to falter, scrambling a little bit “—hot… chocolate?”

Hot chocolate in June? What a weirdo.

You keep your face straight, though.

Flash might’ve let you off the hook when it came to formalities but you’d be an idiot to think you could get away with that with these guys.

He exhales the briefest laugh at something, then—you, you realize, your expression, which should be perfectly polite, what the hell. He turns his head away as a smile curls his lips. That niggling feeling—which began as soon as you realized he was here—strengthens. You push it away for a second.

“I know. Late night. Don’t like coffee, so it’s a good alternative.”

How did he—?

Must be the detective thing.

You apologize anyway.

“Sorry. My, uh, friend’s like that, in a way,” you say, your tongue again moving faster than your brain can grapple with. He won’t care about the fact that your friend, Tim, is like that, too. Well, Tim likes the occasional energy drink if he’s staying up late because he doesn’t like coffee. Not this hot chocolate business. But maybe? Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually. Probably better than Red Bull, even if he doesn’t drink it often, maybe once or twice a month. And, anyway, it’s not the point. This guy doesn’t care. He probably couldn’t care less. You’re just trying to show him—oh, it doesn’t matter. This entire thing has gone straight to shit. All because he managed to read your judgment.

“Oh?” It’s a question but it’s a bit strangled. See? He doesn’t care. Poor guy. Probably trying to think of a way to get out of this. Well, you’ll do him one better.

“Uh, yeah… he’s—well. Doesn’t matter. Yeah, the machine is working. It’s over there.”

“Thanks.”

You nod and glance away, leaving him to cross to the other side of the store. You can’t help but watch him go, watching the way the heavy black cape swishes with his movements, boots soundless on the shitty tiled floors. He disappears behind the shelf, but his head is visible. A head of dark, dark hair that seems… familiar to you.

Ugh. What is with you?

It’s Red freakin’ Robin. You’ve glimpsed him and the others briefly. Shadows in the night, swinging from buildings, jumping from rooftops. Anybody who lives in Gotham long enough has seen the same. Doesn’t mean you know him enough to be this way, to be so bothered by something that won’t even come to mind.

You shake your head briefly.

You should think more on why he’s even here.

Though, it seems obvious, given what happened yesterday night.

Flash has a way of getting beneath your skin and inciting the most childish tendencies. You imagine his little comment about trust between vigilante and citizen bothered Red Robin.

Well, rest assured, you understand the position they are in. You enjoyed the way Flash visited you but they can’t afford that. Perception is gold. It is true, in some ways, that if it were as effective as they wanted it to be, Gotham would be less crime-ridden than it currently is.

(But that was also a conundrum with the corrupt government. So long as the systems were in place, crime would always happen, and it would take more than the Bats to fix that.)

Either way, they cannot afford for that mask to slip—metaphorically and literally.

There is a level of trust, you think, between the Bats and the people but… it’s not the same kind Flash fosters with his own.

You feel obligated to let Red Robin know that, with that, he has no obligation to do anything out of the ordinary.

So, that’s what you do when he comes back over to the counter, two small cups of hot chocolate in hand.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He turns forward with a five dollar bill in hand. “I can’t just not pay—”

“I’m not talking about that.”

He is paying. You are moderately appreciative of what they do but not that appreciative.

“So, what else is it that I don’t have to do?”

You gesture between you two. “This. Come here to try and prove the Flash wrong.”

“I’m not—”

You try to level with him.

“It’s cool, man. He can be annoying. Annoying enough that he could make anyone want to prove him wrong. I get it. But he’s also a little bit of a doof when it comes to matters of the public. Though I’m betting he was trying to aggravate you more than anything. Either way, I get it. You have an image to keep up. Do what you have to do.”

“So, you don’t want me to come back?” Not an accusation. A genuine question.

You blink. “That’s not what I said. I don’t mind. I’m just… letting you know.”

“What do you know about it, anyway? Upholding an image? You seem very confident on the do’s and don’ts, despite being a civilian.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You guys actually refer to us non-vigilantes as civilians? Like, unironically?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you with the emotionless white lids of the domino mask, lips pressed in a line.

You smile and roll your eyes, finally taking his five and opening the register. “I’m majoring in communication with a concentration in PR. Did an internship at Quickstart Enterprises last semester working with their PR department. You can say I know a thing or two about it.”

“What year?”

“Just finished my third. Starting my final in the fall. Look, I’m not saying you have to take my advice, I just wanted you to know. That’s all. I’m not holding it against you.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

You slide his change to him. “That’s all I ask.”

He picks up the cups, says, “Keep the change,” and then, he’s gone, dark cape fluttering, his figure swallowed up by the darkness of the night.

The only traces of his presence is the door slowly closing and the change still sitting on the counter.

These hero-types and their dramatic exits. Honestly.

You meet the Flash in your second week of work at Circle K.

The stipend from QE covered your housing and groceries but didn’t allow for much options regarding the latter. At least not the fresh produce kind.

So, you picked up a job at Circle K. Part-time only, which worked well with the schedule you had at QE. You typically worked evenings—not the graveyard shift you do now, which you took only because it paid better during the night—so from seven to eleven.

The Flash was different from the Bats in that regard. While Signal worked during the day, the rest of them worked during the night.

Flash told you he liked sleep, so he would take care of things during a reasonable hour in the evening to accommodate that, which meant you were beheld to his presence.

Frequently.

And the first time…

You have no idea what to make of the superhero currently raiding the sausage grill.

A larger part of you is suspicious, hoping that the Flash isn’t about to come up to you and say something arrogant about not being required to pay. A lot of the cops you get say something to that effect. It takes so much willpower in you to not roll your eyes.

But another part of you right now, the Tim part of your brain, is fascinated. Wants to ask some geeky questions about his power. Presumably, the fact that he is the fastest man alive means he has to eat a lot to sustain it, right?

Well. That one is a bit self-explanatory. At least if the way he’s stuffing his face tells you anything.

Suspicion wins out, though.

Keystone City is a nice enough city. Central City, across the river, is the same. They aren’t Gotham, that’s for sure, and sometimes you don’t know if that��s a blessing or a curse.

It’s mostly that Keystone City is situated in Kansas and across the Mississippi, in Mississippi, is Central City. These regions of the country, historically conservative, make you a bit tetchy. Not at all helped by the fact that for a very long time, Keystone City was suspended in the fifties. Or rather, what they thought were the fifties. Time passed normally outside of it until the Flash fixed everything.

It gives Keystone an aesthetic old-timey vibe to it but with all the modern luxuries of the late 2010s, like phones and, you know, civil rights.

But things have been okay, for the most part. The people you encounter here at Circle K are amiable enough. (Well, except for the cops you get. You could go without dealing with those idiots.)

Though, admittedly, between work for QE and here and trying to keep yourself fed and (mostly) rested, you haven’t gotten out much.

The Flash, though… you haven’t directly encountered him. Not in your few weeks here. Sometimes when walking to the subway, you feel the sharp gust of wind, commonly associated with him as he makes his way through the city faster than a speeding bullet, glass windows and cars rattling dangerously in the aftermath of his path. On the news, when he takes down whichever rogue woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and in the newspaper. But nothing beyond that.

People speak fondly of him, for the most part. Rumors are solid sources of information but you just can’t help but be a little bit suspicious. There is such a thing as too good to be true, after all…

You reach for your half-empty cup of blue raspberry Slurpee. Though it’s the beginning of September, summer takes longer to leave the midwest, you’ve learned, and the summers here are loads worse than ones you’ve experienced in Gotham.

Before you can even get your mouth around the red straw, a breeze hits and you blink, finding the Flash in front of you, depositing mostly empty cartons of hot dogs onto the counter, with a few of them still full. On their way to being empty, though, as he crams more into his mouth. A cup of cherry Slurpee finishes it off.

The Flash points a half-eaten hot dog at you. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m sorry?”

“No, no, not like that. You’ve just got this suspicion to you. This… paranoia. A paranoia that can only belong to someone from Gotham,” he says, nodding to himself.

Well, that’s—

Hm.

A bit embarrassed to be caught out like that—because it isn’t the first time—you attempt to make up for it.

“I’m from Metropolis, actually.”

Best to stay on the east coast. Even you couldn’t pass as someone from the west coast, like Star City or Coast City or something.

Flash grins at you. “Liar.”

You aren’t used to this kind of playful banter. Certainly not from a literal superhero, from someone who regularly saves the world with the likes of Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman and more. You don’t think you expected the cold brutality the city gets from the Bats back home but… you didn’t expect this, either.

To get a much-needed sense of normalcy, you scan one of the hot dog cartons, adding them up on the screen.

“Was it that obvious? I wasn’t trying to be… I mean, I was, but, you know, I didn’t, um…”

You stop, cringing. Very eloquent and more than a little annoying, given your career choice. Can’t be like that when you get put on the spot. Even if it’s by a superhero. Especially if it’s by a superhero. Journalists are even worse, anyway��

“Relax, kid,” he laughs. “To tell you the truth, it was hard to miss but I’m sort of geared for that kind of thing, what with my choice in career.”

“Right.” You scan the Slurpee and take a drink of yours while he fiddles with some zipper in his suit. A deep red, with a purple tinge, a silver Flash symbol on his chest, and a cowl, but with the top free, showing off a shock of red hair, and his eyes still exposed. Pretty green.

“But I do have an unfair advantage,” he goes on. “I see a similar look every time I have a League meeting.”

You blink. “The League…?”

“You should know. Your caped crusader, Batman. Of course, that’s also because he doesn’t like me—and the feeling is mutual, trust me—but, you know. Schematics. He sits right across from me and that’s all I get, this classic brand of Gothamite suspicion on top of the usual wordless Batman disapproval.”

“Should you be telling me that?”

He hands you a twenty. You pop open the register to break it. Another breeze hits and the empty cartons of hot dogs are shoved into the trash, with him eating the last one and on his way to finishing the large cup of cherry-flavored Slurpee.

“I mean, what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” you say lightly, calculating his change. “I could go to the press. Breaking News: Strife within the League. Tenuous relations between Batman and the Flash.”

“Oh, really?”

“That’s the press. A common dislike will absolutely turn into that in their headlines. They would take it and run.”

“That is true. You a journalist?”

“Oh, no. Communications, with a concentration in public relations.”

Flash thinks on it for a second, finishing his hot dog, then the Slurpee. You partially expect him to get angry. It would be a justified reaction. He doesn’t know you and you don’t know him. You can admit that some of what you just said is a bit… imperious. Who are you to lecture him, right?

“You aren’t wrong,” he finally says, repeating his earlier words as the last hot dog carton and Slurpee cup disappear from the counter—thrown in the trash.

“But,” he presses, accepting the change from you—a few dollars—then dropping it into your tip jar. “I know you aren’t going to take that to the press.”

“How’s that?”

He points at you. “Because I don’t think you’re the kind of person to do that.”

“You’re appealing to my morals?”

“Yes. Is it working?”

“Not much work to be had,” you admit. “I was never going to. I was just…”

“Being nice and telling me I should watch what I say,” he finishes, grinning. “Which is true. All true. I just couldn’t help myself. What’s your name, kid?”

You tell him. He extends a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. Welcome to Keystone City. Hope you enjoy your stay.”

A bit bemused, you nod politely and say, “Thanks.”

Before he can say anything else, he visibly tenses, lifting a hand to the Hermes-like wings at his ears, then, in the next blink, he is gone, off to stop someone or something, leaving you with a sharp gust of wind that rattles the windows and knocks the candy from the shelves under the counter onto the ground.

Well, then.

Talk about a first impression.

reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @peachesona @knoxx-seresinbradshaw @kikis-writing-service @sweetistic @soundsfunbutno @ginevraxrogers

[if you'd like to be added to the taglist (or removed), let me know here or in my inbox! ^_^]

#tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #dc comics imagine #tim drake imagine #red robin imagine #dc comics x reader #tim drake x you #red robin x you #tim drake x y/n #red robin x y/n #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #batfam x you #batfam x y/n

692 notes · View notes

felucians · 6 months ago

Text

un bisou

Fandom: Marvel X-men | Gambit/Remy LeBeau x Reader

Reader is gender neutral with no physical descriptions. Rated PG-13 because Gambit would be the type of guy to grab anyone's ass during a kiss, he would test the boundaries and we all know it. Reader is a mutant with celestial Sun powers - technically based on my OC's powers which manipulates the Sun, specifically it's fire.

Summary: Takes place during Days of Future Past in the original X-Men series, where Bishop accuses Gambit of an assassination that destroys the future, reader is the only one to believe him. Pre-established relationships between Rogue/Gambit, Reader/Gambit and Reader is a member of the X-men team. Title is French for "a kiss". Wordcount: around 800 words.

"Don't nobody trust Gambit, eh?"

Rogue can't meet his eyes, her gaze downcast and guilt etched onto her features.

Gambit won't look at you, at your eyes glazing over in tears as your shared family denies him, believes that he could be the assassin. He didn't hear your whisper of "I do" as he loudly announces to the room, "Then Gambit don't need nobody."

He stalks away, glowering as his trench coat flows behind like a cape, and then the room is silent as his footsteps fade.

The lights black out and you're finally unfrozen, "How dare you? All of you? Not trusting one of our own, our team. Who are we if we cannot trust each other? What kind of family is this?"

The Sun hesitantly flickers through the windows, as solar flares begin radiating from your arms, anger burning through your body.

Rogue is first to speak, "Calm down, Sugah—"

"Calm down? When you all just turned your backs on him?"

Jean fixes you with a soft, understanding gaze and whispers "Go" in your mind - your chair hits the wall, leaving a dent with flashes of celestial energy trailing behind.

You don't even realise your feet carrying you through the hallways, yelling his name throughout the mansion, praying to anyone listening that he's still here and you find him before he leaves here, before he leaves you.

He's standing, paused at the doorway to the X-jet, breathing heavily with angry mutters of Cajun creole - blurring English and French seamlessly. Gambit looks up at the sound of your footsteps, a flash of vulnerability in his eyes that left in a second, replaced by a harsh piercing glare, "Porquoi êtes-vous ici, Dulcinée?" (Why are you here, sweetheart?)

The nickname is spat out, venom seeping out from the endearment that would usually bring a soft flush of heat to your face. You try not to flinch. Emphasis on try, because you do, and his face somehow looks even more pained at that. Words evade you as your throat dries, refusing to respond, so you take a deep breath and a soft gulp before you respond, grateful that you could understand his mother tongue.

"I'm here because I trust you, Remy."

He falters, searching your eyes desperately to spot any falsehoods, any inkling that you were spying on him for Charles - he doesn't find any. He finds pure raw love, the kind you knew you felt but could never truly verbalise.

Everyone on the team could see your soft spot for Gambit, and he knew it too. Sure, he flirted with every woman he came into contact with and he couldn't stop thinking about Rogue - but there was something about you that left the Cajun torn, as if he also loved you but didn't dare bare his heart to anyone, as if his shield crumpled, then his world would collapse and destroy everyone he cared about with it.

But here, with only you left, dangerously close to him in the enclosed space of the doorframe's entrance, he couldn't remember why he kept those walls up. He allowed his eyes to flicker to your soft lips, watching intensely as you involuntarily catch the bottom one in between your teeth. Your heart is hammering in your chest and before you can think to pull away, to move down the hallway or into the next room, his big hands are splayed on your soft hips, your spandex suit in bright terracotta separating your skin to skin contact.

He's surprisingly soft, as his lips meet yours and he tastes like spice and tobacco. It infiltrates your senses, enveloping you in a blanket of warmth and desire while you gasp, allowing him to deepen the kiss further, to let Remy explore your mouth, your taste, your emotions. His gloved hands grasp around your waist as the other dips down to your ass, giving it a small squeeze. His smirk brushes his stubble against your cheek at the soft breathy moan you let out from his actions - you would swear Jubilee was in here with the amount of fireworks lighting up your veins, the passion and love igniting your whole body in flames.

Gambit pulls away, and his face is almost unreadable and then it's sad. It's a goodbye kiss, you realise as he walks past you through the door to the X-jet - and you almost let him.

He's so lost on his own emotions and thoughts from the kiss that ghosts his lips that he doesn't notice you slipping into the darkened room after him, only to be blinded by the harsh lights as Bishop and Wolverine reveal themselves, entirely unaware of everything that just transpired between you both...

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ominousvibez · 1 year ago

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random dp x dc writing

i suddenly had an idea for a new dp x dc crossover fic, here's a piece of it!

🦇

“So much for movie night.” Tucker complains.

Sam groans, stretching her legs as Danny gets up, and transforms. The rings come easily to him now, unlike they had just a little more than two years ago. Their ghost-hunting tech had merely been discarded to the side after their patrol before they settled for the movie night.

“You guys can stay here.” Danny says, pushing himself into the air. “I told Skulker and Technus to pass along the message to the other usuals, but maybe somebody else didn’t get the memo.” The Box Ghost surely hadn’t; but, then again, the Box Ghost doesn’t usually get any news from the Ghost Zone. Or maybe he does, and he doesn’t care. Either way, the cardboard-loving menace was stuck in thermosland right now, and Danny wasn’t going to let him out until after they found out if Amelia would survive INVASION OF THE KILLER TEACHERS III: SCHOOL’S OUT or if she would become another zombie student.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll make it quick.” Danny allows himself to turn invisible and intangible, and slingshots himself through the roof of Sam’s house and into the sky. The clouds that had been moving in during their patrol clouded Amity Park in a dreary autumn rain. Leaves that had begun to turn were blown off the trees by the wind, and a distant rumble of thunder echoes in the distance.

Once upon a time, the storm would’ve terrified Danny. It would bring too many bad memories, of electricity burning through his skin, killing him and bringing him to life at the same time. But now, as a flash of lightning hit the sky, he can’t deny the surge of energy and delight in his core.

Stupid electric core.

“Ah! Sir Phantom!”

It isn’t one of his usual rogues for once. Instead, it’s a familiar face, and an ally. He calms down a bit at the sight of Lady Dorothea. He’s still a little annoyed that his movie night is being interrupted, but at least it’s by another friend.

Plus, he’s sure Lady Dorothea, who’s working hard at modernizing her kingdom, probably wouldn’t understand what a movie night was, anyway.

“Hey, Dorothea!” Danny drops his shoulders. He keeps himself intangible, feeling the rain fall through him. Lady Dorothea is intangible as well. “Is everything okay? Does your brother need to get his ass kicked into next week again?”

“No, not quite.” Lady Dorothea sighs. “I do need your assistance, but it is not for kicking any asses this time. Something… else has happened.”

“Something else?”

Lady Dorothea nods. “Yes. A few cycles ago, a newly-formed ghost stumbled into the castle gardens. My head gardener, Montagu, had found him stumbling through the hedges, and our healers were able to stabilize him before he could have faded, but then…” She bites her thumbnail nervously. A roar of thunder echoes around them. “… Sir Phantom, I believe he may be a halfa.”

Danny blinks at her. “Sorry, what? Did you say there’s another halfa?”

“Yes, I did— Sir Phantom, as far as my kingdom has come with modernization, I do not believe we have the capabilities of assisting a halfa, let alone one so young. I, no, we need your help, as soon as you are able to.”

A new halfa. Danny’s brain feels like it’s melting and spinning at the same time. He’d never encountered this before. Was that what Danny had felt? The new Halfa, forming? Or, well, maybe transforming for the first time, or something. He felt like pop-rocks were bursting under his skin, and he could feel a few stray sparks shoot off from his hands.

A new halfa.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom x dcu #ominouswriting #dpxdc #dcxdp #hehe who is a halfa now??#Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out!#the gardener's name is a reference btw #to the lady who inspired a lot of interest in victorian flower language #idk i thought it was creative #and i thought instead of unnamed DC character being thrown to the far frozen and the yetis #what if they ended up somewhere else? and dorothea stood out to me #idk how royalty stuff works btw #winging it as i go #electric core au

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drakoneve · 1 year ago

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Missing Memories Pt. 1

request: Hey! I saw that your requests are open so I was wondering if I could get a Daemon x fem!reader where they are happily married and one day reader has an accident and is unconscious for weeks and he is desperate and when she finally wakes up ( to make his despair worse) she has lost her memory (maybe she doesn't remember anyone or to be more distressing maybe she just doesn't remember him, I'll leave it up to you) Seeing her condition, Viserys and Rhaenyra + try to help by telling things about her and also about their relationship before the accident and how happy they were and completely devoted to each other, but it doesn't do much good. Seeing such a situation Daemon decides and is determined to win her back, at first she is defensive and even a little afraid of him (which makes him very sad, since of all of them she was the only one who was never afraid of him, nor even before they get together) the months go by and he has some advances +(like she starts to feel more comfortable around him and that sort of thing) one night she is talking to Rhaenyra when she gets a really bad pain in her head and flashes of memories begin to flood her mind, when rhae says she is going to call the maester, she runs off to Daemon's room (which was the room they shared before the accident) she enters and runs towards him and him. kisses passionately, when they break up she says she remembered everything. With lots of angst, fluffy, a little nsfw at the end (if you feel comfortable) and happy ending, please? (If you could also develop Reader's relationship with Viserys and Rhaenyra while she is out of memory I would be extremely grateful. Sorry for the amount of detail, feel free to ignore and sorry for my English)

pairing: daemon targaryen x y/n velaryon

word count: 2.9k

warnings: angst, mentions of head injury, permanent scarring, blood and memory loss, oh and targcest but this is hotd so...

a/n: i’ve decided to split this into two parts so it doesn’t feel rushed! i’m not a dr and have no idea how head injuries/memory loss actually works. also the boar incident didn’t happen on Aegon’s nameday :)

The young prince Aemond’s third name day hunt in the Kingswood was meant to be a celebratory occasion. You’d arrived behind the immediate royal family, emerging from the carriage hand in hand with your love, the Rogue Prince Daemon. At first everything had gone well after the two of you arrived shortly after your younger brother Laenor and his cousin-wife Rhaenyra.

It had been far too long since you had celebrated such an occasion with your family as you’d spent the last few years living in Pentos with your husband. Daemon enjoyed Pentos, but you could tell he missed the west. He missed the Keep and the city he had known his entire life, and so you had managed to convince him to come back to King’s Landing, if only for a while.

Things took a turn when trouble came the next day in the form of an argument between Viserys and Rhaenyra over Gods knows what that ended in the king yelling in his daughter’s face in front of the majority of the royal hunt. Rhaenyra stormed out of the tent, and you rose from your seat to follow her but Daemon grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Must you chase after her?” Daemon asked, frown forming on his face. “Rhaenyra is quite capable of taking care of herself.”

You clicked your tongue at him and pulled your arm free of his grasp. “You know I must, Daemon. She is like a sister to me and you know that.”

It was true, the two of you practically grew up alongside each other as sisters would as the two of you were the only girls your age around (minus Alicent, of course). In the years before either of your marriages you would often join Rhaenyra and Syrax in the skies upon your own green scaled dragon Rixende.

You were just fast enough to catch up to Rhaenyra and her hose upon one of your own, alongside Ser Criston. The three of you dismounted your horses for the day as the sun had begun to set and you were too far away to make it back to the campgrounds before dark.

Rhaenyra sat in front of the barely light makeshift fire pit while you scavenged around for more fire fuel. The last thing you remembered before waking up in royal chambers was the snorting of a wild boar.

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Daemon knew something was wrong when he could not find the strength to will himself to sleep. His stomach felt like it had twisted itself into a tight intricate knot and in the back of his head he knew he was right in not wanting you to follow after Rhaenyra. Although Daemon loved his niece and held her very dear, you meant more to him than anyone else in the world.

He was awake when Rhaenyra and Criston rode back into camp, the princess screaming for the best healers present. Daemon nearly tore down the front of the tent with the force of his rage as he ripped through the camp, searching for you. He met a devastating sight.

Rhaenyra cradled your head to her chest as she held a soaked red cloth to your head, your own silver hair stained red with blood. The princess herself was stained in a fair amount of blood which would have been just as concerning but you were the one unconscious on the ground with a grievous wound to the side of your head.

Despite every instinct in his body to be by your side and let no one near you as to protect you from further harm, Daemon merely watched with a cold glare as the healers pushed Rhaenyra away and began to stitch at the open wound on the left side of your head just above your ear.

Daemon instead turned his fury to Ser Criston, who seemed to be the only one of the three of you completely free of blood. The sight of him, clean in the face of the love of his life and his niece blood soaked while a pathetic excuse for a knight of the Kingsguard stood idly by in spotless armor, woke the dragon within the Rogue Prince.

Criston hit the ground so hard it knocked the air out of him. Before he had the chance to stand, or even catch his breath, Daemon kneeled over him to deliver several hard blows to the face of the knight.

Criston’s nose cracks under the force of Daemon’s blows, blood spurting down his face and chest.

Daemon gripped the neck of Criston’s armor and raised his now bloodied face to meet the prince’s. “What the Seven hells happened out there?” he growled out. “and if you should tell me anything but the truth I’ll have your head on a spike!”

“A boar,” Criston croaked out before spitting blood out onto the side of his face and to the ground. “A wild boar attacked the princesses. Princess Rhaenyra was brave enough to face it after it attacked Princess Y/n.”

“How worthless you’ve proven to be,” Daemon spat in return. “Leaving the princesses to fend for themselves. If my wife dies, I’ll feed you to Caraxes myself. I might do it anyway!”

All the commotion woke the entire camp and by now a large circle had formed around the royal family as King Viserys ran towards his brother. The king pulled on his brother’s shoulder and off of Criston.

“Daemon enough!” Viserys urged. “There’s been enough bloodshed for one night, brother. You must focus your energy on your wife.”

The comment lit a fire in Daemon’s chest and he shoved his brother’s hand away. “Do not speak to me of the duties of a proper husband.”

He brushed passed the king to join the healers at your side. The stitching was finished now, and by the looks of it Daemon knew it would leave a welted scar just above your left ear. With the most care he had and as gentle as he could, Daemon lifted you from the ground where you laid and brought you back to the tent you two shared.

The healers followed him inside to give Daemon instructions of how to clean the wound throughout the night before excusing themselves, ushering the prince to call for them if need be.

Daemon leaves your side briefly only to finally remove his armor. He reattached Dark Sister to his hip before pulling a chair to your bedside and taking your hand in his. He thought of the night he saw you for the first time since before leaving for the war in the Stepstones.

It was Rhaenyra and Laenor’s wedding, and you arrived with the rest of your Velaryon kin to the throne room. Daemon hadn’t seen you since before the war in the Stepstones when you were still a young girl and he was surprised to see the beautiful woman you’d grown into.

The eldest of Corlys and Rhaenys’ children, you wore a sea green satin dress to represent your house. Daemon couldn’t help but admire the way it flowed around you as you twirled around the dancefloor with your sister Laena.

He ignored the stares of others, namely Corlys and Rhaenys, as he split the dancefloor in half on his way to you. He graciously asked for a dance, and had expected you to reject him. No doubt Rhaenys had filled your head with every filthy thing the realm had to say about him. And if not her, surely one of your handmaid's had.

You surprised him, though, when you smiled up at him, and accepted his invitation. Daemon took control, wasting no time in taking your hand into his own while wrapping his other arm around your waist to lead you.

When the music slowed down you’d began to pull away from him, but Daemon only tightened his grip on your hand and his other arm around your waist to pull you closer into him.

“Must you leave me so soon?” he’s asked you softly. “The nights only just begun.”

Daemon charmed you into one more dance, which he dragged out into dancing the rest of the night until the unfortunate demise of Ser Joffrey due to Ser Criston’s outrage. After that night Daemon whisked you away to Pentos, where the two of you were wed under the traditions of Old Valyria.

He took you flying across Pentos upon Caraxes, showing you wonders of the world you’d never even dreamed of seeing. Daemon remembers your excitement fondly as he’d spent the majority of the flight memorizing the smile on your face and shine in your eyes.

Daemon rubbed his thumb along the back of your hand almost in an attempt to wake you. He new it wouldn’t happen this night, you’d been given too much milk of the poppy for that, but it didn’t stop him from trying.

He spent that first sleepless night by your side and remained there while the maesters prepared you for the ride back to the Red Keep for proper medical treatment.

Daemon stood outside the carriage with a heavy watchful eye as the maesters secured the makeshift cot to the carriage. Out of his periphrial Daemon can see Rhaenyra approaching, and while he normally dotes on his sweet niece, in this moment his stomach turns at the sight of her.

It should have been her. He thinks to himself. Not my precious wife.

Rhaenyra is respectful in her approach as to not set off her reckless uncle. Her lilac eyes rake over your injured form, guilt eating away at her.

“Any word from the maesters, uncle?” Rhaenyra asks softly.

The prince takes in a breath, soothing himself the way he know you would. He knows if the roles had truly been reversed then nothing would stop you from aiding the princess in any way. In his heart he knows he shouldn’t blame Rhaenyra, she’s the one who saved your life after all, but he can’t stop himself.

You should be awake, by his side. You should be enjoying the young prince’s nameday celebrations as you always did.

“They do not know why she hasn’t woken,” he explains solemnly. “I have requested the best maesters from the Citadel this morn.”

Rhaenyra nods, before looking to her feet as she twirls her golden rings. When she looks up again, Daemon turns to meet her gaze before he can stop himself and he can’t overlook the tears in the princess’s eyes.

“Iksan sīr vaoreznuni, kepūs (I am so sorry, uncle),” Rhaenyra mutters tearfully. “I should have protected her. I should have-”

“No,” Daemon interrupts her, knowing it’s what you would do. “You are lucky you escaped unscathed, princess. She will heal. She will come back to us, this I know.”

One of the maesters then steps off the carriage and approaches the pair. “Pardon me, my prince, but the carriage is ready. It is best for the princess that we do not delay our travels any further.”

“Of course,” Daemon nods. He gives Rhaenyra a hopefully reassuring hand on her shoulder in a goodbye before joining your side once more.

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Despite the arrival and treatment of two maesters from the Citadel, and one healer Daemon flew in from Pentos personally, you had not woken.

After the wound on the side of your head began to heal and the maester took out the stitching, worry began to truly settle into Daemon’s core. The maesters and healer both had done what they claimed they could yet could not give the prince an answer for why you had not woken.

Day after day for three weeks Daemon sat by your bedside waiting for you to open your eyes and come back to him. The two of you hadn’t been apart for more than a few days in the entirety of your marriage, and these weeks without you have been torture.

Today had been no different, it seems. Daemon thinks to himself as he enters your shared chambers, where you still lie upon the bed. One of maester Orwyle’s trainees is by your side but rose upon the prince’s arrival.

The man bows respectively. “My Prince, I’m afraid there’s been-”

You interrupt the maester with a low groan. “M-my head hurts,” you wrasp, eyes still closed.

“Go, fetch the maesters, the healers, someone!” Daemon bellows his demands to the young healer, who wastes no time in scurrying from the room.

Daemon rushes to your bedside where a pitcher and empty cup sit on the bedside table next to you. He pours you a drink and carefully holds it to your lips.

“Here,” he whispers gently. “drink this, darling. You will feel better.”

You do as he says, not consciously thinking of it, you only wished for relief from your terribly dry, scratchy throat.

Once you’ve finished, Daemon pours another in case but leaves it on the table. He sits, and claps one of your hands with both of his own.

“I was so afraid,” he confesses softly. He doesn’t look at you, instead he focuses his gaze on your bundle of hands. “So afraid you would not wake. I thought you were gone and there was nothing I could do.”

WIth your free hand you grasp the thick fur covering your legs and you pull it up to your chest, and wriggle your other hand free from Daemon.

“D-do I know you, ser?” you ask, and Daemon can see the confusion laced with fear in your eyes.

He’s always been able to read you and you’ve told him before it’s one of the things that attracted you to him. Not once, since that night he asked for your hand in a dance, had you ever looked at him and been afraid.

Not when he arrived on Driftmark upon Caraxes years before you wed, soaked in blood from winning the war in the Stepstones. That night you sat with him, alongside your father Corlys and brother Laenor, and begged for every detail of battle. As they relayed their stories of war to you your eyes gleamed, and you enamored Daemon from that moment on.

Daemon shot up from his seat as a sickening feeling took over him. He swayed on his feet, or was he really? He grips the hilt of Dark Sister in an attempt to steady himself.

Wordlessly he turns and charges out the chamber doors, letting them slam shut behind him.

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Once word had spread through the Red Keep that you’d finally woken you’d been swarmed by maesters and Pentosi healers bombarding you with questions.

How were you feeling?

What could you remember?

Why was Prince Daemon seen storming away?

You simply asked who Prince Daemon was, which stopped the bustle of your busy chambers.

“Have I said something?” you asked, blissfully unaware.

Laenor then bursts through your chamber doors, winded and eyes wide. His arrival sparks life back into the maesters and servants continue cleaning like nothing happened.

“Sister!” he gasps, rushing to your side. He wastes no time, carefully, wrapping you up in his arms from your spot on the bed. “I am so relieved to see you. How are you feeling? And where is Daemon?”

You groan, pulling away from your younger brother. “Why does everyone keep asking me about Daemon? I do not even know a Daemon! Have I missed something, brother?”

Laenor sits back slightly, lips parting. “Y-you do not remember? Y/n, Prince Daemon is your husband. You’ve been happily married for years.”

The two of you sit in silence as you do your best to file through your memories.

“I think I remember seeing him at court once, but I do not remember marrying him. How can I be married and not know it?” You push away from Laenor and stand from the bed. Without risking further bodily harm but as quickly as you could you slip on some simple shoes and pull a robe over your nightclothes.

Laenor follows you as you move about the room. “Where are you going? You’ve only just woken, you must rest!”

“No,” you insist, pulling away from his attempt to grab your arm to stop you. “I have a husband, whom I cannot remember. I have much more important matters than lying in bed all day.”

Many people watched you shamelessly as you made your way through the Red Keep looking for your cousin and close friend, Rhaenyra. If there was someone here who could help you make sense of things it would be her.

Eventually you find the princess sat under the weirwood tree in the Godswood, reading with a book in her lap.

“Princess,” you call as you approach. “Might I interrupt your studies for a moment?”

Rhaenyra’s head whips up, mouth slightly open in shock. She tosses her book aside carelessly and rushes to wrap her arms around you. The younger girl hits you with such force the two of you nearly tumble to the ground.

“I was so worried,” Rhaenyra whispers into your curly hair. “All I could think of these past weeks was your recovery, it’s all I have prayed for.”

“Yes, such is the sentiment I have been hearing. But I am afraid there’s trouble, cousin.”

Rhaenyra pulls away from the hug but keeps her hands on your forearms. “What is it?”

“I do not remember Daemon,” you confess softly. “Laenor informed me I have been married to Daemon for years, but I cannot remember any of it and it worries me.”

The princess’s violet eyes widen, “Nothing? Not even your time in Pentos?”

You shake your head mournfully and Rhaenyra’s frown only deepens. She pulls you to sit with her under the weirwood.

“Come, we must find a way to bring your memories back.”

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