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enthusiasticharry · 4 years ago

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Lonely this Christmas

summary: you and Harry broke up earlier in the year, but at Columbia’s Christmas party you see each other again, and you both realise just how much you miss each other

author's note: ahhhh i don’t think i've ever been so excited to post one of my works as i am this one and i hope you all enjoy my baby. the reader in this is musician!yn and i have so many other ideas for the little story line, so if you'd like to hear them, please let me know!

word count: 11k of baso angst, really fluffy fluff and some of the best smut I think i’ve ever written. there’s deepthroating... face-sitting... really just the whole shebang.

masterlist | please speak to me about LTC here!

You truly believed that Christmas was the best time of the year.

You loved everything about the festive time of year. From decorating the house, to listening to the music. From spending time with your family, to cosying up on the sofa and watching Christmas films. It was a special time of year, where everyone seemed to relax and walk around with joyous looks on their faces because no matter the year they’d have, it was nearly over and it’s finally time to celebrate the best aspects of the time that had passed.

You found yourself thankful for the year, but also thankful that it was over. This year had been one of the best, but also one of the worst years of your life. The thing that caused the year to not be the best that it could was the split you had with your long-term boyfriend. It was messy, and absolutely heartbreaking on your side and because it was such a big part of the year, it became one of the memories that you wished to ignore but you found yourself struggling too. On a brighter side, you had won your first Brit award this year for Best New Artist. It was a turning point in your career, for certain.

One thing that you’ve never enjoyed about Christmas is parties. You would much rather stay within the walls of your own house and spend your evenings alone, but being in the industry that you are it becomes a little harder. The Columbia Christmas Party happen’s every year, but this was you first year signed to the Record Label, so the first year you had been invited. You were shocked to be invited, but found yourself to be excited and dreading the experience all at once.

The thing that you found yourself thinking and worrying about the most was what you were going to wear. You wanted to impress everyone there, since you had found this new stardom for yourself and you had created this name for yourself which you hadn’t had before. After consulting with your stylist, you settled on a custom Gucci dress that was made for you to wear specifically to this event. The dress itself was a Christmas-green velvet material, which landed to about your mid-thigh with a square neckline. Attached to the square straps of the neckline, were tulle sleeves of the same colour that bunched at your wrists. It hugged your curves perfectly and once you’d added your black scrappy heels you really felt beautiful. Your natural features are accentuated, and you, for the first time in a long time, feel beautiful within your own skin.

That all changed the second you walked into the party.

You felt as though all eyes were on you, as though everyone was watching every step that you took to see what you’d do. It made you feel uncomfortable and immediately feel as though the dress you are wearing wasn’t right, it was too short and you needed to cover up. You were maybe 98% certain that they weren’t thinking about what you were wearing, but more so who you’ve just clocked eyes with.

You knew he was going to be here, and you had prepared yourself for the inevitable, but seeing him stood there completely changed everything that you had prepared for. You both were signed to the same record label, years after the two of you had met though, so it was no surprise that he was sat at one of the tables with a group of people around him as he spoke and laughed at what they were all taking about.

You tried to ignore the pinch within your heart, but it was hard. You weren’t the one who broke it off, and if things had gone according to your plan, you would still be together right now.

You had met Harry a few years ago, when you had first moved to London and you were bar and pub hopping, singing and hoping that you’d somehow stumble upon someone who could help you start your career. It was completely by accident that you both had met, and looking back at it quite embarrassing on your part. You were in the middle of your set when he walked in, as well as Mitch and Sarah, but you hadn’t seen them at that point. You had recently learnt how to play Sign of the Times on the piano and you had purposely brought your small keyboard out with you so you could play the song. Looking back on it, you probably wouldn’t have sung the song if you did know that he was there, but you didn’t know so you sung it. It was a little shaky at the start due to your nerves about playing the song for the first time out of the comfort of your room but you quickly found your groove, and you finished strong. Harry had later told you that, after a little bit of teasing from Mitch and Sarah, he knew that from how in awe he was of you he just had to speak to you. He walked up to you whilst you were in the middle of throwing your celebratory shot back that you always take after finishing your set and the first thing you ever said to him was, “Fuck!”

You always thought that would be a story you’d be able to tell your grandchildren, and you both had even spoken about it, but it just hadn’t worked out.

He seemed okay, which you were happy about. His new album had just come out, and you don’t think you’ve ever cried at a record as you did at that one. You knew it was about you, it was hard not to. All of the little hints that he left throughout his songs would blow over anyone else head, but you knew the true meaning of them and you think that’s one of the reasons you found it so emotional. He was smiling as he spoke to the people, briefly taking sips of his drink every now and then, which was only water so you wondered whether he’d drove there. You both would be flying home soon, but this would be the first time in three years that you’d be flying home alone.

To stop yourself from crying, you quickly make you way over to the bar. After running your eyes over the cocktail menu, your eyes immediately pricked at the sight of one, and you could stop the words as they left your lips: “A cherry bomb fizz please.”

You watched as the bartender added a cherry and some maraschino liqueur, before topping the drink off with Champagne. The drink was quite sour, but you quite liked it. It caused your lips to purse and eyebrows to widen, in a good way you must add.

“Could never handle your alcohol, could you?”

You could feel him before you heard him, but you didn’t want to turn around. Why he felt it okay to come up and talk to you were unsure about, but at the same time you had been hoping that he would. Why you were hoping that he would you were also unsure about, but you’re certain it had something to do with the fact that you weren’t quite over him.

“I think you’re mistaken.” You say, taking another sip of your drink, “You were the one who could never handle your alcohol. And this is just sour.”

He hums, as though he isn’t believing a word that you say, “If you say so, love.”

“Love?” You say, raising your eyebrow at him whilst throwing back the rest of your drink, “Thought those days were well over.”

“Force of habit, ‘suppose.” He shrugs, “I have a few of them when it comes to you.”

“You grew out of them.” I shrug, “Can’t remember the last time you called me love whilst we were together.”

He drops his eyes to the counter, and you know you’ve done what you’re supposed to. This is the first time you’ve spoken to since you broke up, and you can’t believe that it’s at a Christmas party of all places. He also had the audacity to call you love, something that you couldn’t believe he had the balls to do. The last few months of your relationship you were lucky if he even looked at you, and here he now was calling you love as though it’s totally okay to do so.

“I’ll always call you love.” He says, lifting his eyes up from the counter to look at you once more, “I’ll always care about you.”

“Where was this five months ago?” You ask, unable to stop yourself.

Your break up, in your opinion, came out of nowhere. You knew something had changed in your relationship, since he hardy had the time for you at the end of your time together. He’d get up in the morning and wouldn’t touch, or even kiss you. Then, when he’d come home it would be the exact same thing, he’d slip into bed and to stop yourself from feeling as though you were going to cry, you’d pretend you were asleep and hope that you’d actually fall asleep. He never told you a reason for breaking up with you, apart from that he needed space and that he couldn’t be with you. That was probably the thing that hurt you the most. He broke up with you, but you never really had a real reason why.

“I just needed to leave.” He says, “That was my main focus.”

You try to ignore your heart breaking all over again but it’s hard to, when it’s the only thing you can think about.

“Why now?” You say, “Why are you doing this now?”

“YN—”

You shake your head, “I don’t think I want to hear it. I’m going to go.”

“Don’t—”

“—YN!” You feel an arm thrown around your shoulder, one that you immediately realise is Jeff once you register his voice and his face once you turn to him, “I haven’t seen you in months! How are you?”

You can immediately tell that he’s drunk. From the slight slurring of his words, to the smell of alcohol on his breath as he speaks. You’re just as shocked to see him as he is to see you.

“I’m good, Jeff, thanks.” You smile, at him, trying to push the conversation you’ve just had with his friend out of your mind, “How are you?”

“I’m drunk.” He laughs, squeezing your shoulder slightly, “But! I’s nice to see you two together again!”

The whole ignoring the situation doesn’t quite go to plan. Once he’s said those words you immediately draw your eyes towards Harry. You’ve never wanted to leave a conversation as much as you did this one. You look at Harry, but he isn’t looking at you.

He gasps, “You should come over to the table! We’re all here and it’ll just be like old times.”

“I couldn’t possibly. . .” You shake your head.

“You can!” He says, “Come on, I won’t take no for an answer! And H, hurry up with those drinks.”

Jeff walks you away from the bar and towards the table that you noticed earlier when you noticed Harry for the first time this evening. Glenne, Mitch and Sarah are there, as well as Kid and a few other producers that you recognise from working on Harry’s album, as well as a few songs from yours also. You knew that just because you and Harry broke up you couldn’t expect the friendships that had formed because of you two to just stop altogether.

“YN!” There’s a course of cheers and Sarah’s the first to stand up and wrap her arms around you. Out of everyone, Sarah was the person who you were closest with out of Harry’s band. She had joined Harry’s band after you and Harry had been dating for a year or so when Sarah joined the band, and you two instantly clicked and became the closest of friends. You had spoken a few times with her since you had broke up, but nothing compared to what you used to. You weren’t surprised though, she was Harry’s drummer first and your friend after — or that’s what you told yourself to make you feel slightly better.

“Hi.” You smile, dropping down into the spare seat next to Sarah. Words are thrown around the table of glee that you’re there, as well as questions as to why you haven’t been in contact. You know they’re drunk, and you suspect that is why they’re saying all of the things they are. You were quick to fall out of the conversation as it moved onto the show that they did the day prior to celebrate the release of Harry’s album. You suppose the reason your feelings were so heightened today was due to your hearing the album for the first time yesterday and then replaying it today.

It was completely different to Harry Styles but still so Harry. You hated how his music made your feel, the sad and the happy ones, as well as all in between. Harry returned to the table shorty after clutching drinks in his hands, and under his arms. Why he didn’t just make two trips, you would never know, but it’s lucky that all the drinks made it without any spillages.

“We were just talking about yesterday.” Glenne says, taking a sip of her drink as she does before turning towards you, “Have you heard the album, YN?”

“You don’t have too—” Harry turns to your briefly.

“I have.” You nod, “It’s good, a masterpiece even. You should be proud of it, H.”

You can see his shoulder tense, and from knowing him as well as you do, you wouldn’t be surprised if his heart just sunk to the bottom of his stomach. If you’ve listened to the album, it means that you’ve heard the song that Harry hoped you hadn’t.

“What would you say is your favourite?”

You look directly at him as you say the next words, and you hope he listens to them, “Probably Cherry.”

The other’s carry on talking as though you hadn’t said anything at all, but Harry doesn’t open his mouth again. He doesn’t stop looking at you though, and the way you look gorgeously defeated. A part of him wondered whether he was the one who caused you to be this way. About a month ago he asked some producers he knew that were working on your album with you how you are, and they said that you just seemed sad. It broke him to hear those words, just the words he had said to you all those months ago had broken you. Out of the blue, probably not but due to you not paying any attention, the group all move in, including you and Harry to have a reminiscent group photo.

He does open his mouth again when the group disperse to the dance floor, leaving the two of you all alone at the table.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t lift your eyes up from the end of the table cloth you’re messing with, an exasperated laugh leaving your lips, “What for? Breaking up with me? Taking everything from me? Or, I don’t know, using that in your song?”

“I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“You thought I wouldn’t mind.” You shake your head, completely baffled at his words, “Why would you think that? I trusted you with that, and now it’s on the end of one of your songs.”

“I’m sorry about everything, but especially that.” He says, and you can tell he’s being genuine with the look in his eyes. He looks as though he’s about to cry.

“Why did you do it?” I asks, “You could’ve asked me. I would’ve said yes, I swear to you.”

“I was nervous.” He says, “We didn’t leave on the best of terms, and I felt as though asking would’ve have been the best.”

“So you decided to do it anyway?”

“Will you forgive me, please?” He asks, and you can tell his voice is about to break, “Please.”

“That’s it, Harry.” You say, “I don’t think I can.”

The next morning you awake with a slight hangover, which wasn’t surprising because once you’d left quickly after saying your last words to Harry, and opened a bottle of vodka that you had in your cupboard. That bottle now sits on your bedside table, three-quarters of it drunk and the cause of your hangover. You were thankful that you hadn’t gotten too drunk before you left the party, due to the wraths of paparazzi that were there as you left. You remember leaving with your head down, ignoring their calls and questions, as well as their their cameras flashed at you. You had gotten into your car, your driver had smiled at you and the second the car started moving away from the club you found yourself unable to stop the tears that streamed down your face.

This wasn’t the first time that you’d done this since you’ve broken up with Harry, but this was certainly the worse you’ve felt since you’ve done so. Your head had its own heartbeat, and you felt as though your were stable on your feet as you trudged towards the kitchen to have some orange juice, your remedy for your hangovers to say the least. It was always something that Harry thought ahead about when you were together. If he knew that the two of you were going out he’d always stock up the fridge. The amounts of time since that you’ve gotten drunk and not had any orange juice within the house is quite atrocious and he knew from experience that they never ended well.

You drink your first glass of the drink quickly, and pour your second one before making you way back into your bedroom. Due to the amount of time you spent in LA, you had purchased your second apartment here, your first being in London. It wasn’t the nicest ever, but it was good enough for you when you were here, and something that you were thankful to have when you woke up from nights like these.

You fall back down upon your bed and the first you think you pick up is your phone, shocked at the thousands of notifications your found on it. You’re still slightly asleep so you rub your eyes a few times before clicking upon the instagram app. The thousands of notifications are dm’s and comments upon your photos. After clicking through the notifications, you find the culprit sat with a lovely love heart emoji on Glenne’s story.

At some point that morning, probably whilst you were growing your sorrows away with vodka, she had posted the photo of you all on her story with the caption ‘the band’s back together,’ a heart emoji and tagged you in it. All the messages were asking whether you and Harry were back together again, not because you’d ever gone public with your relationship, but Harry had gone public with your breakup in his interview with the Rolling Stones and with Zane Lowe. He was very respectful in the way that he spoke about it, which was all you ask for. You hadn’t actively gone out to watch and read what he was saying, but your manager had warned you about them before you had done some interviews and you were curious to say the least what they were about.

In the photo you could tell that you and Harry were the only ones who were sober. Everyone else had drunken grins on their faces whilst you and Harry, to say the least, had very uncomfortable smiles across both of your lips. It annoyed you slightly that the two of you couldn’t even be in the same place anymore without having messages upon messages about whether or not you’re back together. Anyone with a brain could see that you certainly weren’t just by the expression on both of your faces.

You weren’t annoyed, or angry that the photo had been posted because you wouldn’t have taken the photo if you didn’t want it to be posted, but you did take the photo. You were always taking photos together before the breakup, and photo booths were you speciality. It’s another thing that you had hardly done since the breakup, so it was nice to see the photo but deep down a part of you wished that it hadn’t have been taken.

It’s all over all of the social media’s, and you decide that it’s probably best if you just put your phone down. You’re about place it on your bedside table when a notification pops up on the top of your screen, and without thinking, you tap on it, sending you straight to the messages app and to who had sent you the message.

Harry: YN?

Why he was sending you a message in the first place, you had no idea. Why he was messaging your so early in the morning was also something that confused you even more.

Harry: I know you’re reading this.

Harry: Your read receipts are on.

You curse yourself for being so click-happy when you see a notification, and more so for having your read receipts on because you know you can remove them but you don’t quite know how to. You contemplate for a few seconds what to say in your drunken, tired haze, before typing out the message:

YN: Can I help you?

His reply comes in a few seconds later.

Harry: Are you free?

YN: Why?

Harry: Meet me at Beachwood. Usual time.

YN: Why should I?

Harry: Just be there. Please.

YN: I will.

When you walk down the pavement towards the Beachwood Cafe, its as though you’re doing so without actually thinking about it. When you and Harry were together — this was your place. You can’t even remember the amount of dates the two of you have had here, tucked away in the corner whilst the music played, chatting away endlessly about things that popped into each of your minds. It got to the point that when you two were free, and managed to get to go, you had been that much that the waitresses knew your order by memory. The first time they had done it, you remember the way you both smiled sheepishly at each other and back at the waitress.

It was decorated for Christmas. You could see a tree in the corner of the cafe, as well as lights and tinsel across the windows. If you weren’t so nervous you probably would have smiled at the sight of it.

You push the door open and hear the familiar ding of a bell that rings whenever someone walks through, and you’re catapulted back to last year when you did the exact same thing but with a smile on your face from your excitement of seeing your boyfriend, one who you cared and loved very much.

The low hum of Mud’s Lonely this Christmas fills the room, very apt for the current situation and you’re guessing the mood of the conversation you’re about to have. It was late, close to closing time but you and Harry found that to be the best time to come, because hardly anybody else did.

He’s already sat at your usual table, the one in the corner because the two of you often liked to people watch. It had started off a silly game once when you were both tired and didn’t really want to talk about your lives, so you started brainstorming what other people’s were like. As much as you hated to admit it, Harry’s stories were always the better of the two of you but you didn’t mind, because you could little to the words he spoke to you for every minute for the rest of your life and you wouldn’t mind.

He’s already gotten your drinks, you can see the two glasses upon the table in front of him. You pull out the chair, making him look up from his phone at you. You can see his features immediately soften at the sight of you stood there.

They always used to do that.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” You don’t reply, “I got you a peppermint hot chocolate. I know It’s one of your favourites.”

It was one of your favourites, and you haven’t been able to have one in a while because, surprise surprise, they remind you of Harry, and the time you used to spend together.

“Thank you.” You say, picking up the drink and taking a sip of the hot liquid, dropping it back down and looking at him directly in the eyes, “Why did you invite me here?”

He clears his throat, and the movements of his elbows suggest he’s wiping his hands upon his trousers.

“I want to apologise. For everything, this time.” He says, and you watch as he places his hands back upon the table, messing with the rings on his hand. He still wore the one you got him for your anniversary a year ago, “For how I acted yesterday, the day we broke up and the months before hand. I was a dick, and there’s no excuse for it, but I just hope that you accept my apology.”

“I do.” You say, after a couple of seconds of contemplation, knowing that there was no point to having this dragged out for any longer than it already was, “I just want to know why, that’s all I want.”

“I.” He stops and lets out a shaky breath, “I don’t know, if I’m honest with you. I was just so investing into getting the album finished, and for some reason in my mind I thought that it would be best if I was single to do that.”

“Why would you think that?” You ask, the tears brimming on your waterline.

“I don’t know. The second I watched you walk out of the door, and when you didn’t turn around to look again but just drove away, I knew I’d messed up.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You choke back a sob, trying to be quiet to not draw attention to the two of you, “You should’ve stopped me. Explained. I love you Harry, I would have done anything to help you. You needed space, I would’ve given it to you. You needed me, I would’ve been there.”

He drops his head, “I know.”

“Then why didn’t you?” You suck in a breath and bite your head to stop anymore sounds from escaping, “You let me leave. You watched me leave. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I felt guilty. I’d just broken up with you, love, do you really think that it would’ve been a good idea for me to all of a sudden say I wanted you back?”

Silent tears stream down your face, “You had months to, Harry. Months. You did nothing.”

“And it’ll be the biggest regret of my life, YN, I promise you.” He says, and you can tell that he’s trying to stop himself from crying, “It will be. I’ve been a mess without you.”

You still love Harry, and you know that you do, and you hate seeing him so upset. You believe that’s why you reach forward to take his hand in yours.

“I have too.”

Somehow, you and Harry had been booked on the same flight home, and you managed to get seats next to each other. Spending that time next to each other was good, you believed. It gave you the opportunity to properly speak and catch each other up on everything that had happened. Harry had apologised, yet again, for everything that had happened and you had too. You gushed over his album once you had done, and that was when he invited you to the Secret London Show he was holding at the Electric Ballroom.

That takes you to now, stood in front of your mirror looking over your outfit to make sure that it was presentable enough. You knew you had to look presentable, but it wasn’t as fancy as the Christmas party. You dressed yourself in a long sleeved black lace top, and paired it with some black jean flares and your docs. Simple, yet quite effective in the grand scheme of things.

You were nervous to say the least about what what the evening was going to hold, especially since Gemma and other people who you hadn’t seen since the two of you broke up were going to be there. You weren’t exactly prepared, and if they asked you any questions you’d have no idea about what to say, but once you had brought that up with Harry, he said to just answer with the truth, which you were going to.

The entire way to the electric ballroom you were nervous, your heart was beating out of you chest and you felt as though you shouldn’t have been going. You thought that up until you arrived, when you walked backstage to see Harry and Gemma stood talking whilst Harry was getting ready. Once he saw you, his features rose into a smile and yours did too, and you walked over to press a kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“YN!” You could hear the shock in Gemma’s voice as she noticed that it was you and she immediately stood up and wrapped her arms around you, “I haven’t seen you in so long. How are you?”

“I’m okay, thanks Gem.” You smiled, pulling away and tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “How are you?”

“I’m amazing.” She says, “I certainly didn’t expect you to be here. Are you two back together? Please tell me that you are.”

Instead of answering straight away, you turn to look at Harry briefly. You both knew exactly what was running through your brains, and the way you both smiled at each other made that completely obvious. He nodded, and then you knew exactly what to say.

You grin and turn back to Gemma, “Trying to.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for you.” She wraps you in another hug, “He was a mess without you, and I know you were a mess without him. You’re soulmates. I can’t believe he even did it in the first place.”

“I think we all couldn’t.” You laugh.

“Hey!” Harry whines from the chair beside the two of you, “I made a mistake, we all get it.”

You and Gemma laugh and from then it’s like the past six months hadn’t happened and you were still the best of friends. That was one thing about being with Harry, you loved his family just as much as you loved him. Gemma was like a sister to you, and she was even when you broke up but you just hadn’t seen her. Anne, well she was like a second mother to you. She always made sure to make you feel included at family gatherings, and she even came to stay with you sometimes when Harry went away for a while and you couldn’t go with him. You had missed Harry the most during this time, but Anne and Gemma were two people that you had also missed more than anything.

The majority of people make their way to where they’re watching the show soon after, but you tell Gemma that you’ll meet her on the balcony later because you wanted to have a quick word with Harry. He was in the middle of shrugging his jacket upon his shoulders when you walked through the door, and he immediately stopped his movements and turned to look at you.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Everything okay?”

You shrug and bite your lip, stepping for arms a few steps towards him, “Just wanted to see you.”

You find your eyes flicking up and down his body, taking in the monochrome yellow suit he had on with a black tie. You always loved and supported Harry’s wardrobe choices, and you had missed in the time you hadn’t been with him picking them out with him. You felt as though this was an excellent choice.

“You look amazing.” He says, taking a few steps forward so that you’re directly in front of each other. You watch as he lifts his hands up, about to place them on your waist but he stops himself and drops his arms back down. Without hesitation you grab his wrists and place them upon your waist. His eyes widen, but the second he feels your skin underneath his hand, just separated by the thin material of your lace top.

“Thank you.” You bite your lip and wrap your fingers around his tie, lightly picking up the material, “You look so handsome, H.”

He almost lets out a sob at your words, but he quickly stops himself and smiles at you. Without thinking, you lean forward and press your lips upon his. They feel so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time. You want to cry. You’ve dreamt of this for months, the feeling of having him this closer to you again, and from the way he wraps his arms around your back and pulls you even closer to him, so that your body is fully flushed against his. You pull away with a smile and immediately drop your head to his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist under his jacket and hugging him close to you. You finally feel a tear escape from your eye.

“I’ve missed you so much, H.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

He sings the entire Fine Line album from start to finish, and from how much you’ve listened to the album you actually know the majority of the words. You sing and dance away with Gemma, posting instagram stories of the two of you, and then one of how proud you are of Harry. You don’t need to explain yourself, there certainly isn’t a need to so you do so without any hesitation. You realise you’ve missed watching him perform, the way he can entertain a crowd with his talents has always been something you’d been jealous of. You’ve done shows here and there but because your album isn’t due to be out until the start of next year, when you plan to do your first world tour, and even though you try your hardest, you don’t feel as though you’ll ever be able to work a crowd the way he does. Where Stormzy came from, you still have no idea, since you hadn’t seen him downstairs but all of a sudden he’s singing Vossi Bop with Harry and your watching with your mouth dropped open in shock as he does so.

You and Harry make the executive decision to go to Harry’s house after the concert. It’s how you both found yourselves sat on Harry’s sofa, a glass of wine in each of your hands. You head is leant against the back of the sofa, whilst Harry’s hand leans upon the back of it, running his fingers through your hair. It’s comforting, and the smile hasn’t left your face since he started to do it.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, moving his hand from your hair to run his finger along your cheekbone, then down until he’s running it across your lips, “I can’t believe I ever pushed you away. You were my girl. I was going to marry you, I needed to marry you, still do.”

“I’m back now.” You whisper back, lifting your hand to place on his cheek, “And I’m not going anywhere. No matter how hard you try and push me away, I’m not leaving.”

“I don’t want you too.” He shakes his head, “I’ll never want you too again.”

Without really thinking, you take the glass out of Harry’s hand and place both of yours upon the table in front of you, listening to the sound as glass meets glass. He leans back on the sofa with a puzzled look, immediately realising what is happening when you move to straddle his hips, placing your hands upon his shoulders to steady yourself. His hands fall upon the small of your back, his hands dragging up and down to tease your skin.

You lean forward, moving so that your faces are inches apart. You knock his nose slightly with yours, causing his cheeks to curl upwards with a smile before you capture it with your lips. immediately responds by kissing your back, pushing his body so that it’s placed even closer to yours if it’s physically possible.

Without a warning you pull away from him, slipping off his lap so that you’re on your knees in front of him. His eyes never leave yours as you so, and he immediately opens his legs so that you can slip in between them, his finger running over his bottom lip as he watches you.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Want to feel you.” You reply, resting your hands upon his thighs, “Want to feel you in my mouth. Can I?”

“Go ahead, baby.”

You feel excitement bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and with shaky hands you move to unfasten his belt, and unbutton and unzip his trousers without much struggle. He lifts his hips up so that you can manoeuvre his trousers down and off his legs, leaving him in his black boxers. You bite your lip at the sight of the tent within the flimsy material, already growing and ready for you. You feel slightly overwhelmed that after so long of waiting, and wanting him to be in front of you again, he actually is.

“Already so hard for me, H.” You say, running your hand over the fuzz upon his bare thighs, “Have you thought about this as much as I have.”

“I thought about it everyday.” He replies, quickly at that, “It’s etched in my brain, the sight of you on your knees for me.”

You bite your lip as your grin, leaning to press a kiss to his stomach, just above the happy little trial that slips underneath the hem of his boxers. You feel his stomach tense underneath your lips, especially when you hook your fingers into the hem of his boxers, wiggling the material down until you can completely take it off once he’d lifted his hips again. He’s fully hard for you, and you can feel your stomach doing little flips in excitement for what is going to happen.

Sex, as it is in most relationships, was a big part of yours and Harry’s. It’s important that couples are comfortable with each other when revealing such intimate parts of themselves, and you and Harry were. If any of of you wanted to try anything, you could do so because of how comfortable you felt with each other. Whenever the other wanted to try anything, you’d do so without any hesitation and in such a way that you both enjoyed it. You both had your kinks, and your shared ones, and over the courser of your relationship you both explored those feelings. You were just happy that even though you had spent such time away from each other, you could still feel that confidence bubbling between the two of you, and those feelings bubbling between each other. Harry made you feel a way no other human being has ever been able to, and you were thankful because you felt as though you’d never be able to find that with anyone else, and now you didn’t have to worry because you were back together.

“You ready to take me in your mouth baby.” He says, placing his hand upon your cheek, “Ready to take me the way you used to.”

“Always, baby.”

Your tongue slips from between your lips and you lick a stripe up his throbbing cock, causing a low groan to escape through Harry’s lips. You can’t help but smile at the sound, knowing that you had caused that. Another groan escapes his lips once you wrap your lips around his tip completely, taking it into your mouth and you can help but giggle slightly. He smiles down at you and pulls your hair up so that it’s off of your face, making a makeshift ponytail to help move you up and down his cock.

“Look so good with my cock in your mouth.” His tongue slips out of his mouth to wet his lips, “Always could take me so well. Show me, baby, show me how deep you can go.”

You comply, taking him as deep as you can until you can feel him in the back of your throat. You eyes start to water, and you look up at him through your eyelashes. You hold for as long as possibly can before he lightens his touch and allows you to pull away. A string of saliva connects you two together as you and you wipe your lips with the back of your hand to remove it.

“Can you do it again?” He asks and you sheepishly nod, flicking your eyes between his throbbing member and him a few times before wrapping your lips back around him, “Fuck, baby, no one can do this like you can. No one.”

His words spur you on and you deep throat him as far as you possibly can before you need to gasp for air, taking a few seconds before starting to bob your head again, taking a few seconds at each time to run your tongue over his throbbing tip, collecting some of the salty pre-come that had started to bubble there.

“So good to me.” He lets you stop for a minute, and you place your head upon his thigh so that you can catch you breath. It was almost as though he knew that you needed to take a breather. You had the slight problem of always trying to do more than you’re able too and you almost always end up loosing too much of your breath, “Even though I’m an absolute twat. You’re always so good to me.”

“You deserve it.” You say, your throat a little coarse from your actions before.

“I don’t.” He shakes his head, “I broke your heart.”

You hesitate for a few seconds, “But you’re fixing it.”

“I shouldn’t have broken it in the first place.”

You move so that your higher up and able to place a kiss to his lips, whispering against them, “You’re fixing it.”

He kisses you back with more passion than before, moving his hand to grip under your thighs so that he can pick you up and place your on his. His fingers tug at the hem of your lace shirt, so you detach your lips so that you can pull it over your head. He groans at the sight of your bare chest to him, your nipples hardening into stiff buds at the feeling of the cold air immediately on your skin.

“No bra?” He presses a few open mouthed kisses to your neck, “You’ve been with me all evening, and I never even fucking noticed that you didn’t have a bra on.”

“You used to have a special talent for noticing when I didn’t have a bra on.” You giggle, sighing slightly at the feeling of his lips on his neck, and then the subtle feeling of his teeth grazing your skin.

“I must’ve lost my touch. But don’t worry.” He pulls away and looks you directly in the eye, “I’ll soon get it back.”

“Of course you will.” You laugh, but he stops it with his lips. The first time you and Harry kissed, you were so nervous. You felt as though you were going to mess up and he’d never want to kiss you again. You were completely wrong, and he actually ended up saying that it was one of the best kisses of you life. You couldn’t believe his words, and since then you completely found yourself wanting his lips to be on yours. Just as they were now, his tongue slipping between your lips and the feeling always transporting the two of you to where it’s just you, and you have the time in the world to kiss as much as you want to.

He moves his kisses down your neck, leaving sloppy ones against your skin until he was at the curve of your breast. Harry was a boob man, you knew that for a fact. As much as he loved to hold onto your ass every now and then, you always noticed that he spent the majority of his time focusing on your boobs. Whether it be sucking blemishes into the plushly skin whilst you fucked, or laying his head on them as you both calmed down from your activities, he always, without fail, focused on your boobs.

He knew that if he attacked your nipples skilfully with his tongue, he could have your dampening your panties and clenching your thighs together so much that he couldn’t resist it. He starts by wrapping his lips around your right nipple, tugging on the flesh slightly with his lips before letting it go with a pop.

“Fucking love your tits, love.” He sighs and you giggles slightly before gasping at the feeling of his pinching your other nipple with his fingers, “Fit in my hands, and in my mouth, so nicely.”

You moan in response to his words and throw your head back as he wraps his lips around your other one, sucking and sending flutters all the way down to your core. You wanted him, yearned for him, and you were beginning to grown inpatient.

“Can we go to your bedroom?” You run your fingers through his hair and pull his head back so that he’s looking at you, “Bedroom.”

“Is that where you want it?”

“Want it in your bed.” You say, placing your hand upon his cheek, “Our bed.”

He stands up with you still on him, your legs wrapped around him as he carries your upstairs. You rest your head upon his shoulder so he can look over yours and direct you safely to the comforts of his bedroom.

This place didn’t hold the best of memories from the last few months of your relationship but if you ignored that and focused on the positives, you had some of your best times in this room. It was a place where the two of you could completely be yourselves, and have a place to call yours. The pillow talk that occurred in this room was out of this world, and it was where you planned your future. One that was put on hold briefly but now seemed to be ready for the two of you again.

“Will you strip for me?” He asks as he places your down in the room, “I want to watch you slip out of those jeans, baby.”

You nod but at first undress him. You slip the jacket from his shoulders, skilfully loosen his tie and pull it over his head. Next is his shirt which you start to unbutton, but Harry grows impatient and rips it off, the buttons flying in all sorts of directions.

“Harry!”

“Oops?” He laughs, sitting down on the bed.

You had given Harry one strip tease before, for his birthday a year ago and it had gone down a treat. You had dressed up in your fanciest lingerie, which happened to be a black set that he had bought specifically for you for your birthday with ‘Styles’ embroidered on the inside. There was something, for the both of you, that you loved about seeing his name all over your the undergarments you wore. Whenever you wore them out in public, the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other, as though you were hiding a naughty secret that you didn’t want anyone to know about.

“Are you going to?” He urged, not taking his eyes off you’re, “I’m waiting.”

“Might make you wait a little longer.” You smile, running your fingers along the hem of your jeans, “Seeing as though you left me waiting for how long?”

“Don’t tease.”

“Why?” You shrug, “That was your speciality, wasn’t it?”

He had a love for teasing you, always had done. From the first time the two of you had sex, you knew he liked to tease. He liked to tease you all over, having your body withering under his touch until you couldn’t help but beg for him to touch you. You had a slight suspicion that he enjoyed hearing you beg for him, whimpering under his touch until you were crying for him to touch you. You remember that once, he had been teasing you all day whilst you had been out and about, but once you had gotten home he was teasing you so badly, overstimulating you over and over until you were crying for him to make your come.

“Just strip, my love.” You laugh and his words and unfasten the button to your jeans, turning around so that your ass is facing him, pulling your jeans down to reveal your black lace panties to him. You’re not surprised when he smacks his hand to the flesh of your ass, causing you to turn around with a gasp.

“That wasn’t nice.” You move so that you’re straddling him again.

“When have I ever been nice?” He raises his eyebrows, “I don’t think you want me to start now.”

He leans forward and places his lips to yours again, his body falling back upon the bed so that you’re hovering above him. His fingers run down from the small of his back, to her ass again until he’s gripping the flesh between his fingers, quite harshly you must say so which goes straight to your core. You know that the front of your panties are ruined by your wetness, and you know for certain that Harry does also.

“Sit on my face.” He mumbles against your lips.

“What?” You whisper back.

“Sit on my face.” He places a kiss to your jaw, “Wanna eat that pretty cunt, want to have you trembling above me.”

You would squeeze your thighs together, but you can’t because of his body between yours. You nod your head and clamber off him, pulling your underwear down your legs quickly. You move up the bed until you’re next to his head, spreading your legs and placing your knees on either side of his head. His hands grip your thighs, dancing his fingers along your thighs.

“Please, H.” You say, pushing his hair off of his forehead as you look down at him.

“Didn’t think you’d be begging so soon, baby.” He chuckles, pressing a few kisses upon your cheeks.

“I’m doing no such thing.” You shake your head, “You’re just being slow.”

He certainly isn’t being slow when he leans his head forward and starts to attack your clit with his tongue. You have to quickly lean forward also and grab the headboard to steady yourself, a moan escaping your lips as he does so. He attacks your clit quickly, and you can’t help but grind your hips forward at the feeling. He curls his hands around your thighs, stopping you from moving anymore. You cry out as he doesn’t slow down, and you pull his hair slightly. It emits a moan from him which vibrates against your clit, creeping your closer and closer to your peak.

It becomes a cycle. As you pull on his hair, more moans and groans tumble from his lips again sty your clit. He knew the more that he focused upon your clit, the closer you’d find yourself to your orgasm. He had learnt this, and he certainly hadn’t forgotten it.

You bite your bottom lip and close your eyes, rocking your hips back and forth against his tongue. He knows your close, due to your thighs clamping around his head. He doesn’t slow down, but instead he flicks his tongue even quicker.

“Fucking hell.” You moan, your body starting to shake as you feel your orgasm wash over you. He continues to attack your clit, coaxing you through your orgasm until you’ve finished and catching your breath.

“You taste so fucking good.” He says, dancing his fingers upon your thigh, “Missed your taste.”

“Fuck me, H.” You say, breathlessly.

He doesn’t hesitate. You manoeuvre yourself off of his head and lay so that you’re head is rested upon his pillow. He leans to open his bedside drawer but you stop him, grabbing his arm and pulling his back to you.

“Did you sleep with anyone else?” You ask, knowing that this could make or break whether you were going to be fucked or not at this moment.

“No.” He says, immediately shaking his head, “I didn’t. Did you?”

You also shake your head, “I wanna feel you, H. Want you to come in me.”

He groans without even touching you yet, or you touching him. He immediately drops his lips to yours, and you can’t help but giggle and smile into the kiss. You wrap your arms around his back and pull him closer to you. He pulls away slightly, just to grip his cock, running his thumb over his tip a few times.

“Are you sure?” He says and you nod, threading your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Please, H.” You nod, hips bucking towards his, “I need you.”

“Need you too.” He kisses you again, “Always need you.”

He leans forward, looking down between the two of you to line his cock up with your entrance. He runs the tip over your clit for a second before pushing into you. Your walls immediately envelope him, tightening around him with every inch that he moves in. You sigh against his lips, wrapping your arms around his back. He starts to move in and out of you, your walls clenching around him as he tries to find his rhythm.

“Fuck.” You can’t help but moan that into his ear.

“Taking me so well.” You drop your hands to rest on your pillows next to him, to which he takes your hand in his as he starts to quicken his pace, “Missed your pussy so much. Never leaving again.”

Instead of replying, you place your lips upon his again. From the way his eyes are screwed closed, you can tell that he’s close. If it’s possible, he starts to thrust his hips harder towards you, hitting a point so deep into you that causes a whine to fall from your mouth.

“You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” He says against your neck, moving in and out until your thighs are shaking beneath him, “Can feel you, fuck, can feel you clenching around me. Milking my cock, aren’t you?”

You hum, “Feel so good, H. I’m so close.”

When you do come, you see stars. You clench around him, and profanities escape your lips. The feeling is completely how you remember it. You hadn’t been completely celibate since breaking up with Harry, since you do own a little bullet vibrator that had been your friend. You had it for years before you met Harry, and you used it whenever he was away or if the two of you fancied spicing it up every now and then.

You come down from your high just as Harry is catapulted into his, coating your walls with his as does so. His body collapses on top of yours, his head rested at the side of yours. He’s still inside of you, and both of your chests are rising up at down at a quick pace.

“Fucking hell.” He laughs, and you turn your head to look at him. He has a grin upon his face and you lean forward to kiss his dimple, “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”

“I know.” You smiled, “You’ve told me multiple times. I’ve missed you to.”

He finally pulls out, and you immediately felt empty. You whined slightly and he moved off of you, dropping down upon the bed next to you. You take this as the opportunity to slip from your bed. Due to not having sex in a long time, you flip your legs over the edge of the bed and prepare yourself for having to take a few steps. Taking a deep breath, you stand up and waddle your way towards Harry’s bathroom, scooping up Harry’s shirt on the way.

You know the way like the back of your hand, and it’s oddly comforting to you. Once you’re in the bathroom, you clean yourself and do your business. Once you’re satisfied, you shrug Harry’s shirt on and do up a few buttons so that you’re covering at least a bit of yourself as you do so.

Harry’s underneath the covers as you return to his room, smiling at you with dimples and all as you walk back through the door. He’s on his side of the bed, and you clamber into yours. The feeling of having someone in bed next to you makes you happy inside. You lay upon your side, with one of your hands beneath you head and Harry copies your movement. Your faces are close, and he leans forward to place a kiss to your nose.

You smile, “Hi.”

“Hi, love.”��

“Are you okay?” You ask and he nods, “Do you think we’ve rushed this?”

“No.” He’s quick to say, “I don’t think we have. We needed this. I’ve never felt closer to someone as I do to you right now.”

“Me neither.” You smile, moving to grab his hand that was rested upon his side, “And I don’t think I will again.”

“Darling.” Harry says, pointing his finger in the air as he does so.

Chloe hesitates for a second before letting out a, “Ding!” to say that he was right.

It was Boxing Day, and after spending Christmas Eve and the majority of Christmas Day with your family, you had driven from your family house up to Cheshire to spend the rest of Christmas Day and Boxing Day with Harry’s family. You were all sat in the living room playing a game, sporting glasses of wine and basking in the Christmassy feeling of being together again.

After Harry’s show on the nineteenth, and the acts that happened afterwards, you and Harry had many conversations. There was a few tears from the two of you, and the conversation got heated in some aspects but you were together again, and that was the main thing. Originally, you had decided to spend Christmas separate, without each other’s company just because it was such a sudden change and you wanted to make sure that you fully weren’t rushing into things. Then, whilst sat on the sofa after devouring your Christmas dinner, with Mud’s Lonely this Christmas playing through your speakers that you realised that you missed Harry, and a Christmas without seeing him now was a Christmas that you didn’t want in your life.

You had contemplated surprising him and just turning up, but you felt as though that wasn’t fair on the rest of his family, and that’s why you messaged and asked him. He replied asking whether you were certain that you wanted to do this, and you said yes and he said that he’d have a cup of tea ready for you whenever you arrived.

He did have one ready for you, and it was everything you needed to warm yourself up after the long journey.

Anne, Gemma and Michal asked no questions to you, but you had no doubt that they had asked Harry some on your journey. Anne had welcomed you with a hug, and so did Gemma and once their prying eyes were away, Harry kissed you as though his life depended on it, pressed against the staircase of his mother’s house whilst fairy lights twinkled around them.

Anne’s next to go, hoping that her answer of, “Sweetheart,” was at the top of the list.

Chloe replies with, “Uh huh,” to which everyone “Ooo’s” in response at.

You’re rested upon the back of the sofa, with a flute of Champagne in your hand. Harry, in his flat-cap almost breaking your hear with how handsome he looked, turned around and pointed his finger at you.

“Come on, now.” He says, “Be smart with this. It’s sticky stuff.”

“Babe.” You immediately reply, knowing that was one of pet names that Harry called you the most.

People around the room laugh at Harry’s phrase of ‘sticky-stuff’ but that doesn’t mask Chloe’s exclamation of, “Ding!” followed by, “Top answer.”

You smile at the knowledge and Harry turns to you also, holding his fist up for you to fist bump which you both laugh at. He holds his hand out and you pass him your drink, which he takes a sip of quickly before returning it to you so you can carry on playing the game.

Michal is next, and for some bizarre reason to all of you he says, “Cutie-pie,” which certainly isn’t on the list. The room chuckles around you, and Harry says something about him “returning to the mines’’ which you all laugh at, but you specifically roll your eyes at.

The game soon wraps up, and you have your meal. Harry sits next to you, and had his hand upon your thigh the entire way through. The table around the two of you chatted about all sorts, many of the questions being about when your music was coming out which you certainly didn’t expect. You started to feel as though your album, when it came out, wouldn’t be very complimentary of your relationship with Harry, and you were starting to regret it slightly, but you loved all of your songs and you hoped that when you showed Harry, and the world for that matter, that they would too.

You and Harry, after the meal had finished, had offered to be on washing up duty. You had been given the task of washing up, whilst Harry dried because he felt as though his skills were better there. You let him believe that and carry on with drying all of the special Christmas cutlery that didn’t go in the dish-washer.

Once you had finished, and you were drying your hand upon the towel, you felt hands upon your waist, more specifically, Harry’s. He place a kiss to your neck and you giggled, turning around so that upon were facing him. He immediately captures your lips with his, and you wrap your arms around your neck to steady yourself from the attack of his lips. His hands immediately again go to your waist, slipping his hand underneath the material of your jumper to rest upon your skin. Once you pull away, you look at him with a smile upon your face.

“What was that for?”

“What?” He shrugs, “Can’t I kiss my girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” You ask, unable to hide your smile.

“Girlfriend.” He nods, “That’s what you are, aren’t you?”

You nod your head and place another kiss to his lips, the feeling running through the two of you without really knowing how significant he really was.

“If you want me to be. I want to be.”

He lifts one of his hands and places it upon your cheek, running his thumb ever so delicately along your skin.

“I love you.” He says, with no hesitation in his voice, “I know I’ve been shitty, and I probably shouldn’t be saying this to you, especially not in the way that I am, but I do love you and I never stopped. I swear to you, that from now on my love for you will be the most important thing, and I won’t ever, ever make you second best again.”

“That’s all I want.” You reply, leaning forward to place a kiss upon his lips, “I love you too.”

With the year that you had, and the feeling as though you’d never be with this man again, you couldn’t believe that here you were with him. He was with you, and he was yours and there was no doubt in your mind that what happened earlier this year will never happen again. It was almost as though this was something that your relationship needed to grow stronger in itself, and it surely was now.

He wraps an arm around your neck and pulls you onto his chest, “I’m never letting you go again. I probably won’t let you out of my sight again.”

“I can’t say that I’d ever complain.”

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #harry styles writing

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meow-sic · 4 years ago

Text

they accidentally hurt you during an argument 𓍢 ᭡

includes : sakusa , atsumu , iwaizumi x !gn reader

warnings : arguing , fighting , cussing , shouting , accidentally hurting the reader , glass breaking , fainting , blood , mention of drinking

a/n : i’m so sorry sakusa’s is so long lol. i got pretty lazy after iwaizumi’s, so sorry that one is written poorly:(

sakusa kiyoomi

he was beyond irritated today. his head was pounding, his body was sore from practice, and he wanted nothing more than to be alone.

but you were the opposite. and he knew once you he stepped through the door.

you were so excited when he got home! you missed him dearly, he’s been gone longer from practices, and other team bonding things. so, you spent all day making dinner, cleaning the house, and planning a nice day for the two of you!

he groaned as you clinged to his arm, “hi yoomi! hope you had a good day.” you kissed his cheek.

“actually, it wasn’t that good,” he replied in a cold tone. you replied with a small ‘oh.’

“well, actually, i made dinner! i think maybe if it’s an us night it can-“

“can you not bother me tonight? i want to be left alone.” he pushed past you into the kitchen. you quickly followed behind him and gave him a glass of water.

“was it atsumu and hinata aga-“ you try to lighten the air as you smile and watch him drink water.

“y/n, can you please shut you mouth? i said it already, i want to be alone.” he went to fill his water up again.

you scoffed, “excuse me? i’ve prepared dinner for you and cleaned the house so that we could spend our time together.”

he glared at you. “i didn’t ask you to. you did that to yourself. i don’t care if you made dinner. i said i wanted to be alone. is your head to dumb to understand that?”

“yoomi, seriously? are you kidding me! you’re being totally selfish! i’m always alone at night, and in the mornings you’re gone too. and on our days off, you go with the team! it’s like i’m living alone!” you cry, surprised you went off like that.

“me? selfish? do you ever shut your fucking mouth?” he set his glass down and it shattered from the impact. you flinched and gasped.

for the first time, you were scared of your boyfriend.

“sakusa please-“

“please what? calm down? you’re the one who started this mess for nothing! you’re all bark, no bite and that’s it.” he slowly walking towards you as you backed up.

he didn’t even notice your tears, or your cries to calm down, or your unsteady breathing. he was focused on yelling at you to get his point across.

“sometimes i wish i never dated you.” he finishes harshly. you fell on your butt. your hands fell behind you, which your palm cut open on the glass that had shattered.

“please stop!” you yelled, though your voice was wobbly. he took a few deep breaths, and realized what had happened.

you looked at your hand, and your breath stopped at the sight of blood. you and sakusa both knew you fainted at the sight of blood. and with that, your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

—

when you woke up your hand was bandaged. you layed on your bed with an ice pack on your head that was throbbing from sakusa’s yelling. you reached over and drank the water sitting on the nightstand.

the door opened, and when you looked, sakusa was there with soup. you looked away and rolled the other way.

“you’re awake. i made you soup.” he set it on the nightstand and bent down to face you. you turned the other way.

“i’m sorry.” he said. there was and eerie, and awkward silence.

“is that all you’re going to say? after everything you say, that’s your apology?” you replied without looking at him.

“i-“

“sakusa, you really messed up this time.” he winced at his last name. you heard sniffles from behind you, he grabbed the back of your shirt gently.

“please. i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have yelled at you, and everything i said was wrong. i appreciate everything you do for me, how you made dinner for me. and even when i’m cold to you, you never give up and always are cheery. i’m sorry for yelling at you, and hurting you.” he was quiet for a second. “i love you.”

you turned towards him and held your arms open. he quickly hugged you back and started to cry. “please don’t leave me.”

“i’m not going to leave you, silly. but yoomi, you can’t treat me like that.”

“i know, i’m so sorry y/n.”

miya atsumu

you were in the bathroom, pulling the shoulder part of your shirt down to see the red mark that atsumu accidentally left. you could barely see it.

you heard three knocks, and a slurred “y/n? please leh-let me in.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat and opened the bathroom door. “tsumu.”

his face was flushed red. his eyes also. you felt bad, leaving him at the bar, but you had to.

“you left me,” his words were slurred you could barely tell what he was saying.

you looked at the floor. “‘tsumu, you started a fight over me. i got hurt,” you showed him the mark.

“i’m sorry baby, here, let me hug you,” he walked towards you but you shook your head.

“no, please ‘tsumu. wanna be alone. i dont- i cant be by you right now,” you tried to push past him.

“let me hug you,” his voice scared you. “no. let me through-“ he wouldn’t listen to anything you said- or tried to say.

he wrapped his arms around you, and lifted you up as he squeezed you. the awful smell of cigarettes and beer made your eyes water. “put me down.”

“all i wanted was a fucking hug from my partner,” his grip tightened as your arms began to weakly punch his arms.

“please let me go, i don’t want to hug you like this,” you cried. but the cries, and pleads were ignored.

“i spend all this time away from you, and when i want a hug-“

“miya, let me go please. i cant breathe,” you sobbed. “you’re scaring me.”

his grip loosened. you stumbled backwards before your teary eyes met his, and pushed past him.

“i’m sorry,” he quickly said.

“i know miya, you said that last time you accidentally hurt me from drinking,” you sniffled.

“are we going to be okay?” he mumbled after a silence.

“not if this keeps up,” he looked up at you. you walked towards him and cupped his cheek. “i love you so so much. but this can’t keep happening tsum.”

he began to cry, “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. please don’t leave me.”

you gently hugged him and let him sob into your shoulder, “i know addictions are hard. and i’m here for you. but you- you can’t keep hurting me.”

iwaizumi hajime

both of you were frustrated at each other. the heat from the summer getting to the both of you, and this was the day you had asked him to help you decorate.

“i just don’t see why we have to do this today,” he mumbled with a nail in his mouth as he hammered in the shelf.

“because, haji, i explained this,” you wiped the sweat from your forehead. “my family is visiting and i want it to be not boring.”

“i don’t think your family would give a shit about these dumb plants,” he mumbled.

you looked up at him. “you know, nobody can understand you when you’re mumbling. say it louder dear! be proud of it,” you were sarcastic, and he wasn’t dealing with you today.

“i don’t think your family would give a shit about your dumb ass plants,” he repeated, his face in yours.

“you’re a dick,” you spat, putting a plant on the shelf.

he continued to mumble about how dumb, and how frustrated he was with decorating. and you wouldn’t have asked for help, honestly, if you knew he would be like this.

“can you stop being so annoying? you’re acting like a child,” you scoffed at him, he looked down at your sitting figure on the floor that was sorting out some things.

“right, i’m the kid when you couldn’t have decorated by yourself,” he replied.

“hajime you’re being a douche! cant you do one thing? all i asked was for you to put up the shelves and hanging plants!” your eyes watered with frustration and sadness.

“you can’t do one thing without me can’t you? i told you not to bother me then you ask for this, and i help and you do nothing. if you’re going to try to make yourself useful then actually do something!” he shouted, knocking a plant over and the pot falling on your hand.

you repeated, “fuck!” as the pain grew. the plant’s pot was now broken and scattered on the floor with the dirt surrounding it.

iwaizumi got off the step stool he was on, and rushed over to you. “i’m sorry, i didn’t- i didn’t mean to knock it over.”

you tugged your hand away from him and went to get stuff to clean your bloody hand. “i know you didn’t mean to. it’s fine.”

he sat you on the toilet and cleaned your wound. “i didnt me-“

“i know you didn’t mean to. it was an accident.”

once he fully wrapped your hand, he kissed your head. “i’ll finish decorating. i shouldn’t have let my emotions get the best of me, and i should’ve been more careful.”

you knew he meant best, and that he truly would never hurt you on purpose.

#[fairyakaashi]🥮#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa angst #hq angst #atsumu angst #atsumu miya #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi fluff #hq iwaizumi #hq sakusa #hq atsumu #iwaizumi hajime #hq hurt #hq #haikyuu #hq x reader #sakusa x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu fluff

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hiddlesbummmm · 3 years ago

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Here is another Loki X Reader fic to brighten your day! 💕 Thanks for all the love guys. I really enjoy writing these and I appreciate the support, even though I’m not as active as I want to be. Gotta love adulting!

Warnings: SFW Tickle Fic Words: 1662 Ler Loki X Lee Reader

Accidents Happen

“Ugh, how much longer do I have!?” You groaned out loud to yourself. You glanced at the clock sitting on your bedside table. Shit! It was 1:47 am, which meant you only had 13 minutes to turn in your essay.

You typed as fast as your little fingers could. This was the final exam in your English 301 class and was worth a huge chunk of your final grade. You had to pass with straight As. College was much harder than High School, but you had Stark and Banner to help teach you the tricky stuff. You hit the “ Submit” button right at 1:58 Am. Phew! You had to stop pushing your assignments until the last minute. But in your defense, it’s kinda hard when you live and fight with the Avengers.

You then closed your laptop and slid into bed and drifted off to sleep.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

You were rudely awakened by your alarm. You groggily rolled over to turn it off and noticed the time read 6:00 am. Great only 4 hours of sleep. You were definitely gonna need your morning cup of coffee so you could make it through Steve’s morning meeting.

You made your way to the kitchen and prepared yourself a steaming hot cup of coffee. Even though the meeting was at 7:30, you liked to wake up early so you could relax in the common room with your coffee and think about the day. The common room had a gigantic window that you could peer out of and watch the animal activity in the garden. Today, it was raining slightly, and you just couldn’t wait to sit next to the window and smell fresh rain and listen to the slight pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the petals of the red roses that were planted next to the window.

You grabbed your hot coffee mug and headed off to your destination. You were still slightly groggy as you made your way which is why you didn’t see Peter’s shoes laying right in the middle of the walkway. You stumbled over them and lost your balance, causing your coffee cup to fly from your hands. You landed face down on the carpet and threw your head upwards when you heard a loud “Ouch what the Hell!”. Loki must have been making his way to the kitchen when you had tripped, throwing your hot coffee all over his nice outfit. It always made you snicker when Loki showed up to Steve’s meetings in a nice dress top and tie. But seeing his nice outfit with a big coffee stain on it, ripped your smile right off your face.

“ I I I am so sorry Loki! I didn’t see Peter’s shoes in the hallway and I tripped on them!!” Loki just looked at you dumbfounded. “ Anyone could have seen those shoes from a mile away! What caused you to be so careless Y/n. You have ruined my outfit! This was my favorite tie too!” You scrambled to your feet. “ I’m sorry!! I stayed up late last night working on my college paper and so I was still a little groggy this morning. It was an accident I swear!” You walked over to the nearby hallway closet and tossed Loki a towel as if that would help. Loki rolled his eyes at your efforts and used his magic to quickly and effortlessly change his outfit.

“ An accident you say? I don’t know dear Y/n. I think you were trying to get revenge on me after I pranked you last week.” You had totally forgotten about that. Last week, Loki had put salt in your coffee instead of sugar. You were upset after this, but not enough that you would intentionally spill hot coffee on someone. “ I would never! I can’t believe you think I’m that horrible of a person!” You chuckled. “ You know, for someone who claims to be a God you sure aren’t smart like one.“ You knew it wasn't wise to poke the bear, but he needed a little sass. He accused you of throwing coffee on him on purpose! “ Mind your tone, Midgardian. Or someone may “accidentally” do something to you.” You scoffed. “ Loki, you can’t plan to “ accidentally” do something to someone. That defeats the purpose of the word “ accident”.

Loki’s demeanor shifted. He no longer looked pissed off, he now looked very very suspicious.

Without warning, Loki lunged at you. You obviously were still groggy due to your lack of sleep so you couldn’t even process what was happening until your back landed on the soft cushions from the couch.

“ Oh, I’m sorry Y/n, I must have accidentally thrown you on the couch. “ Loki teased. “ That is not how accidents work! You planned that, unlike me who really did accidentally spill my coffee on you!” You always enjoyed seeing Loki in a happy mood, but you were nervous about his game plan.

“ Okay, Loki. I get it! I’m sorry for ruining your nice clothes. Even though it was 100% an accident!!” You tried to sit up but Loki just smirked. “ Oh, darling. I’m not even close to being done with you”. You gulped. You didn’t like the tone of his voice.

Loki then swiftly jumped onto your lap and quickly pinned your arms under his knees. “ Oh wow, I can’t believe it. I accidentally pinned you down to the couch, my bad” Loki said lazily as he winked at you. You were already giggling. His teasing was hilarious even though you suspected what was to come.

Loki and the rest of the team had figured out your weakness weeks ago. You were wrestling with Peter and he thought he would try to tase your sides to see your reaction. Needless to say, it went downhill from there.

Loki hadn’t been all that interested in this new information, but you should have known he would have stored it into his “ Ways to torment Y/n box” inside his brain. You two had become pretty good friends, and pranks and tickles fit perfectly into your relationship. “ Loki, can’t you just accidentally let me up? Then I can go accidentally make you coffee or accidentally clean your clothes!?” You were trying your best not to show your fear, but Loki knew you too well.

“ That would be quite nice Y/n. But first, I think I need to accidentally tickle you to tears don’t you think?” You immediately tried to escape his iron grip but knew it was worthless. He had you pinned and you knew it.

Loki wasted no time in tormenting you. You were already giggling before he even started so it didn’t take long for you to start bubbling with laughter. Loki poked each and every rib with one hand while the other spidered against your sides. You were shaking trying to dislodge him from your hips. You were extremely ticklish and being sleep deprived only made it harder to contain your emotions.

Loki then spidered his fingers all around your neck and ears, causing you to shake your head violently trying to protect your sensitive areas. Loki just grinned and used one hand to hold you neck to one side and gently started blowing on your ears. This was absolute torture. You were giggling like a maniac! Who knew blowing on someones ears could cause such a ticklish sensation. As if Loki could read your mind he said “ Trust me Y/n, I have a brother. I know a few tricks about this type of torture.”You pondered this to yourself as you realized that meant Loki and Thor were ticklish. What an image. But before you could get too lost in thought, Loki moved on and was now viciously attacking your under arms and upper ribs. Now, these weren’t your worst spots, but Loki was skilled in tickles. Every movement was precise and gentle. He even found some spots like made you squeak every time he touched them, which only encouraged him to continue.

“ Loookkkiii plehehease EEP I’m sorry!! I’ve learhehened my lesson! I wohahant stay up late anymore!! EEP” You knew begging wouldn’t work, but it was worth a try. “ I’m not stopping until I see tears darling. How about I go right into your death spots then hmm?” Loki wasted no time to get you into hysterics after this. He slipped his finger into your belly button and used his other hand to alternate between pinching your knees and thighs. It didn’t take long until you were crying with laughter and occasionally you let out a snort. ( Embarrassing you know) OKAHAHAY MERCY PLEHEHESE! You soon became silent. Loki stopped his torture and helped sit you up. You were sweaty and still giggling under your breath, but thankful to be more awake now.

“ You’re such a jerk Loki! Next time I will spill my coffee on you purposefully. Or maybe I will convince Thor to help me tickle you back!“ You playfully sassed and rested your head on his shoulder. Loki leaned in close to you and whispered “ You get my brother involved and I promise you I will not stop tickling you until you are screaming my name, begging for forgiveness, and are motionless”.

You knew we was kidding, but his threat still made you slightly nervous. He was a great guy, but you knew there were certain buttons you didn’t push unless you were asking for mischief.

Loki turned and looked at you. His hair was slightly ruffled from your tussle, but his greenish-blue eyes were bright and gleamed with happiness.

“Y/n, would you like to accidentally have coffee and breakfast with me before we attend this boring meeting run by Mr. America?” You kissed him on the cheek. “ I would love to”. Then the two of you made your way to the kitchen, still giggling madly.

#Ler Loki #Lee reader #Loki X reader #Tickle fic #marvel tickle #mcu tickle #ticklishreader #fluff #sass #loki tickle #hiddlesbummmm fics #marvel tickle fics #sfw tickle fic #loki tickle fic

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no-droids · 4 years ago

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Promise Me (It’s Yours)

Part Eleven of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10K

Warnings: OMFG might be the first chapter of rough day to not need any warnings, can you believe it?? I mean of course there’s language, a splash of smut, and just the briefest reference to suicide, but pretty PG-13 this time my guys I apologize

A/N: I’m sorry I know people show up for the smut but I was feeling soft in this Taco Bell parking lot so here this is, I hope y’all like it. I guarantee none of the math is correct but please go with it

***

You jerk awake to the sound of whimpers.

It’s late. The bonfire is nothing more than glowing coals, and your back is resting against a scratchy log instead of a long, comfortable chest. You blink rapidly, trying to figure out where that noise is comi—

The kid. Fussy in his crib, his gasps starting to turn into quiet sobs.

“Hey,” you murmur, aiming for soft and comforting, but the sleep sits right in the middle of your vocal cords and splits your voice in half, making you sound like an exhausted demon. Weirdly enough, it seems to chill him out (did a demon actually teach him how to choke people without touching them?) and you sit up to blearily look around. Where’s Din? “Where’s—” you rub your eyes and squint around once more, “—where’d your dad go, bug?”

The clearing is bare. The field is, too—no path, excluding the one you three made on the hike here. Nothing in the distant forest, and the black duffel bag sits somewhere near your feet.

Alright, no worries, maybe he just… went to take a leak or something. Really… oddly far away. That’s fine. Sometimes humans have to do that—maybe he has a. A shy bladder. Or something. You’re totally fine. The kid blinks back at you through equally tired eyes, his head tilting as he seems to be taking cues from you right now in the absence of his father. You both should just try to go back to sleep…

Or you can wait up for him. That sounds like a better plan. Don’t panic, just trust him. Give him the benefit of the doubt, it’s the least you can do.

You take a second to look around again, still coming up empty. It’s dark out, but the moon is suspended high in the sky. The fire doesn’t even give off much light anymore, just dying embers. Your eyes scan the ground again, catching on the black bag at your feet.

Was that there when you went to sleep? No, the last person who had it was Din, and he was sitting over there, in front of the boulder behind the kid’s shield.

You blink down at the stationary bag for a few more seconds, studying it like it’ll spill all of its secrets if you glare hard enough, but then something sparks in your memory. Something odd, something you only noticed for a second last night. There was a red light that reflected off Din’s helmet when he reached into the bag for food earlier, wasn’t there?

You think back on it, try to isolate the hazy memory. If it was a laser sight, you would’ve recognized the bright beam and panicked, but you didn’t. It was unfocused, dim. Flashing.

Had… had Din brought a tracking fob with him from the Crest? But why?

Maker, it’s like your mind knows it should speed up but it’s still too stupid to actually do it. You should… you should check the bag, right? Just in case… you don’t know. You’re being ridiculous.

You reach out to catch the dark bag nonetheless and then unzip it, rifling through it for a particular item you figure should be in here somewhere. Food, food, more food…

Somewhere…

—It’s not here. No tracking fob here. No red light to be seen of.

Had you been imagining it?

No, you determine after a second. No, because you remember thinking it was odd—you specifically noticed it, clearly recognized it but didn’t contemplate too much into it at the time.

Alright, no worries, maybe he… maybe he went on a quick little hunt while you were both sleeping. He must’ve gone back to the ship to grab his armor and guns and then set off. That’s fine, there’s more food in the bag. He said he’d be here when you woke up, which most likely means morning. Right?

Cool. Cool cool cool, you can wait until morning. You can just settle back down against the log right here and find a comfortable position—there we go—and just wait for the sunrise, wait for the inevitable return of your missing party member. Party leader, arguably. He’ll come back, he always does.

Your body begins to relax, even though something still seems… strange about this. Like there’s something important you’re still missing.

… The field is bare.

You instantly sit up and turn back to study it in the moonlight, study the single path you left on your way here. You remember hiking at least… a grand total of two hours to get here from the Crest, maybe? Granted, you took quite the detour, but that just means he would’ve carved a distinct, new path on his way back—

Would he… would he really go on a hunt without going back to the ship first? Would Mando truly venture out—without telling you—to go collect a quarry without any weapon on him whatsoever? Any piece of armor besides a helmet?

Does that seem right to you?

Fuck, you suddenly feel wide awake, and the baby starts gasping out troubled cries again. You push yourself up to your feet and stumble around the dying flames to go comfort him, dropping to your knees next to the reflective sphere. Your head stays on a constant swivel as you quiet him, brushing the pad of your thumb along his wrinkled forehead and shushing him as you keep looking out at the breezy field of grass, trying to see if you missed anything.

Fuck, maybe you’re just overreacting. What direction is the ship? Which way did you…? You think back, trying to piece together limited information of what you can remember about today. Glancing back down at the log you slept on and then the path leading away from the clearing, rapidfire calculations start going off in your head. No, you realize after a second of frantic thought—no, the sun would’ve—if you walked…

Eventually, you’re able to pinpoint a general idea of where the ship should be, and if you’re right, then he definitely would’ve left a new path to get back to it. You don’t like this. It’s out of character for him. It sits too weird with you, and the kid rarely starts crying unless something is bothering him.

Alright, alright, don’t panic. Din is a professional. He must’ve left on purpose—you would’ve woken up if there was any sort of struggle, or even just an exchange. Odds are, he grabbed the tracking fob and just… went to go get the quarry.

Without waking you. Without telling you. Without bringing anything else with him. No armor. No guns. Just the fob.

Some strange sense of dread begins to fill you, one that feels all the worse when there’s no clear explanation for it. You won’t pretend like you’re an expert, but to a Mandalorian, that seems like it could be considered suicidal, wouldn’t it? What reason would he have to do this?

The field continues to wave, undisturbed, in all surrounding directions except one. You look over at the clearing leading to the dark forest, the treetops too thick to let anything but traces of crystal moonlight through. If he left… he’ll have gone that way. The only direction that wouldn’t leave a path.

Okay. So there's a decision that needs to be made. You can either stay here, in the middle of this wide open field until the sun comes up, and hopefully he comes back by then. Or… you could. Go check if something went wrong.

The forest is gorgeous from here, you can see that. Thick treetops, drifting gently in the breeze, steady and quiet and picturesque. Admittedly, you can also see a haunting, looming nightmare of darkness warning you to stay away from whatever it’s hiding. This is an unfamiliar planet. You know it’s safe, this is the most isolated sector and Din said practically no crime happens here, but. He also said he’d be here when you woke up.

Hang on, wait. Something catches in your peripheral. There—right on the other side of the kid’s crib, you see—

A glove.

… He left the glove. Whether on purpose or by accident, Din left his glove. The one connected to the vambrace, the one that houses all his controls.

The one that houses the comm link.

The piece of armor is already in your trembling fingers before you realize you even went to grab it. Anxiety, stress, dread—you don’t know which weighs on you heavier while you slowly rotate it in your hands, trying to understand what’s happening right now. He left his emergency communicator. The only chance you have at contacting him unless he decides to come back.

Panic suddenly constricts in your chest, and you make your decision blindly. The kid continues to squeak out little whimpers as your arm sinks down into the leather and you pull the gauntlet up almost to your elbow, flexing your fingers inside the fabric and feeling your heart beating in your throat. The controls are fairly basic, it doesn’t take much time to figure out which button he synced with the hovering sphere, which command he uses to lock the two locations together.

“Chill out, kiddo,” you whisper, doing your best to calm your own raging uncertainty. Conviction is key, you think. You made your decision. Not wanting to waste any more time in case something went awry, you sling the bag over your shoulder and set off in the direction of the trees, feeling… woefully underprepared for whatever may potentially face you.

The forest is quiet as you finally make your way past the first few trees marking its beginning, or end, and you need a second to blink and adjust your vision. It’s dark—if you thought it was dark when you awoke, it’s nothing compared to this. The treetops are thick and barely allow any moonlight to pass through their dense leaves whatsoever, just bits and pieces scattered here or there. There’s no path, no trail, just nature. Fallen logs, moss, rock and boulder formations you have to avoid.

You shush your agitated ward again, wanting to control yourself because you’re getting the kid worked up into baby battle mode with no visible threats to see. He reads energies—he’s capable when he wants to be, when he deems the situation fit. Right now he’s quieted somewhat but he’s still on high alert, recycling your inner panic outwards until you feel the air shifting around you, an… unexplainable phenomena you can’t even describe properly.

Well, you figure. If anything, he’s far more dangerous than any weapon Din typically carries with him. You tend to forget, most of the time. He’s never hurt you, no matter how boisterous the tantrums sometimes are, and you find yourself very rarely thinking of him as anything other than an innocent, helpless baby you’re tasked with protecting. Though it appears that most of the time, he’s been the one protecting you.

What are you saying? There’s no need for protection right now, you’re simply searching for your absent ally. You’re not being brave—no matter how quickly your heart is beating or how much your hands are sweating, you’re not being brave because bravery implies facing something you fear. You have nothing to fear, it’s nothing more than an abandoned forest. A backdrop for your endeavor.

Though… though now that you think about it, this setting looks eerily similar to one you’ll have seared into your memory forever. The forest on Corellia.

You will the thought away with a frantic shake of your head. Naboo is safe, Naboo is safe—it’s not like Corellia. It’s not crawling with people desperate for food and credits, desperate enough to resort to kidnapping and slave trade. Naboo will economically prosper no matter what threat befalls the galaxy, its industry comes from tourism and resorting.

You stop for a second, needing a breather. Just for a second. You haven’t been walking more than fifteen minutes but the terrain makes your feet hurt. Sure, there are clearings between trees and the ground isn’t complete overflowing with obstacles, but they’re still present. The scattered rocks dig in under your shoes and some of the bushes you pass by have sharp leaves or thorns—but it’s the sprawling root systems that prove to be the worst. They crawl across the ground like they can’t decide whether they want to be part of it or not, and more than once you stub your toe on a hidden tube arching a few inches out of the mossy soil.

A part of you almost has to remind yourself that you’re here because you’re looking for somebody, rather than being trapped here trying to evade something. The adrenaline and fear are starting to get the best of you, make you too antsy, warp your senses. You’re deep in the forest now, but not enough to feel the wind disappear yet—you can still hear it rattling around above you, leaves slapping against each other, branches creaking as they tower over you. You almost wish it were quiet. You don’t feel comforted by the breeze anymore, it doesn’t feel like an ever present reassurance as much as it does a burden that masks the noises you could otherwise be hearing. The snapping of twigs that could potentially be there. The crunching of leaves under feet that aren’t your own.

So. You should probably admit now that this was actually a horrendous idea. Because you’re fucking stupid for not realizing this earlier, but. Din ventured into this hellscape to find a quarry, did he not?

A… wanted criminal.

Shit. What the fuck. That’s a hell of a fucking thing to register this late, isn’t it?

You can turn around, you figure. You can turn around right now and head back to the campsite—actually, that sounds like a great idea. You should do that.

You spin around and begin retracing your steps… which, you figure out about five minutes later, is an impossible feat. None of your surroundings look familiar—or shit, maybe it all looks familiar. Like… trees. And fucking rocks. Trying to distinguish landmarks is almost impossible now, and there’s no way to tell which direction you’re going with no visibility overhead, no celestial body to guide you.

You don’t immediately panic, not until you (quite literally) stumble upon a small stream of water flowing through some stones under your feet.

Well, okay. That’s not good. Okay, well, no, you suppose that could be good. It’s water—it’s a landmark, sure, the tiniest little landmark you've ever seen, but that’s exactly the problem. You’ve never seen it before. Which means you’re most definitely not going in the right direction.

At this point, the only option you have is to turn around again. Maybe you can unintentionally make the same series of stupid mistakes once more to start you right at the beginning. The kid is still glancing around in his cradle, making sure no harm comes to your useless ass, but then you freeze when you begin to hear something in the distance.

It’s an unfamiliar sound—a deafening one, even from this far away. Long and echoing, a giant chorus of… something. Something you’ve never heard before, something you can’t place.

Your heart is thundering as you walk closer to the source of it, moving slowly and cautiously forwards and having no clue what it could possibly be. It doesn’t seem to amplify much as you travel closer, which means it must be a ways away still. It’s terrifying nonetheless—the anticipation, how sweaty your hands are, the way you’re very aware of the muscles in your stomach for some reason.

The baby coos softly at your side, but the suddenness of the gentle noise nearly makes you jump out of your skin. You gasp and look down at him for the first time in what feels like ages, clutching at your chest, but then—

—then footsteps rush you from behind and something grabs at your shirt.

You react completely on instinct, your body nearly throbbing with adrenaline as you whip around and launch a mean jab aimed at the dark silhouette behind you. It slams directly into his solar plexus hard enough to bend him in half and ripple through your whole arm with the blowback. Your other fist pulls back and instantly goes for him again, but he just barely manages to jerk his arm up and block it in time—

And thank the Maker he does. Because you were just an inch shy from colliding your knuckles against the side of his head in your wild stage of panic. The one currently covered in devastatingly strong, shiny metal, the helmet just barely visible in the dark forest.

It’s like it doesn’t even register with you—you’re already going to hit him again when Din’s hand hooks around your arm and he yanks you forwards. Your body slams into his and then he’s wrapping himself around you and holding suffocatingly tight. Everything inside you still wants to struggle against him, gasping into his shoulder as your heart continues to gallop with terror no matter what your logic tells you. But he holds harder than steel and the sound of his voice eventually returns to you after a moment, repeating harsh words at you through a familiar vocal filter.

“—me, it’s me, it’s me, I’m right here, stop it, stop it, stop—”

You blink desperately against black fabric, letting the familiar scent, touch, and embrace bring you back down again. He’s so solid—has such a strong hold on you, absolutely no give to be found, and the devastatingly tight embrace manages to quickly settle you.

But he doesn’t wait long. As soon as you stop fighting him, he releases you in favor of grabbing your shoulders and shoving you out at arm’s length, frantically jerking the helmet up and down your body and twisting you back and forth while he looks. Your arms dangle with the inspection and you readily let him move you around like a rag doll, not having enough sense to register anything beyond safe. You’re safe. Everything seems to exist in a box right now, far away and yet compact at the same time. The visor snaps back up to your face and you blink dazedly up at him.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately tell him, voice pitched high and awkward, “woah, hah—whew, ahah—I’m sorry, I-I’m just—“

His fingers hook at your chin and he pulls it up, tilting your head back and forth, allowing the small patch of moonlight beaming through the treetops to catch the water in your eyes. It glints in shameless betrayal, and you try unsuccessfully to blink it away despite the damage already being done. Din drops his arm and you lower your chin without the platform propping it up.

“You just—you just—” you gasp out, delayed relief suddenly filling you and making your voice wobble dangerously, “—y-you went on a hunt but you left your armor. You left your guns, you left everything. I didn’t know—what could’ve happened, I—why’d you do that? W-Why—why didn’t you t-tell m—”

He wraps his hand behind your head and pulls you into his chest once more, not saying a single word. This hug is just as tight as before, just in a different way. He still uses it as a way to calm you and it still squeezes the air from your body, but this one doesn’t feel like it’s entirely for your benefit anymore.

It takes you a few more seconds to realize his hands are trembling.

You go to pull back, but he tightens, anchoring you to him. “What’s—” you gasp against the fabric covering his shoulder, “—what’s wrong? Are you okay? Where’s the quarry? What’s—what’s making that sound? Are we safe?”

Din takes slow, shallow breaths, and you hear it almost too well with your ear shoved against his body. Little by little, he loosens his grip on you. Both of you are still panting by the time you’re able to wrench back and look up at him.

Bare, shaky hands push your hair back away from your face, eventually coming to rest framing both of your cheeks. They’re warm and strong where his fingers wrap around the bend of your jaw, securing you in place, and when he speaks, he sounds like he’s been through hell and back.

“Don’t ever,” Din whispers brokenly, tugging a little bit to make sure you’re listening. “Don’t ever—ever run away from me like that. Ever again. Understand?”

You stare up at him, wide-eyed and dumb, unmoving. Is that what he thinks? That you were trying to… to run away from him?

“I—I wasn’t running,” you immediately stutter out, blinking rapidly at him and trying not to let the confusion show on your face. “I’d never run—I-I told you I wouldn’t—”

“I came back and you were gone,” he breathes, his quivering thumbs brushing along the height of your cheekbones. “I—my kid, he was gone, everything was gone, I-I…” The helmet shakes back and forth the slightest bit, and then he drops his grip to clamp down on your shoulders, clearing the fragile turmoil from his throat and hardening his tone. “Listen, you can’t do that—you can’t take my kid and just… just disappear like that, please, promise me you won’t do that agai—”

“You disappeared,” you accuse with a whisper, but it’s like he doesn’t even hear you.

“Promise me,” he urges, shaking you enough to make your head bobble just slightly, and the quiet plead of his voice through the modulator compels you to acquiesce without a second thought.

“I promise I won’t disappear,” you vow to him, unwavering and earnest. “Now promise you won’t, either.”

Din stares at you for a moment, his body tense and completely stationary. He’s still breathing heavy though, his chest rising and falling hard enough for you to count. One, two, three… Seven. Seven whole breaths, before he finally responds.

“I promise,” he eventually declares, before taking a step forward and crowding you, pulling your shoulders in and slowly tilting his helmet down until it rests against your forehead. The cool metal feels like ice on your burning skin—but you ignore it and allow him to get as close as he can possibly be, to hold you tight and keep you there. “I promise,” he goes on, “that if you ever—that if something ever happens to you two, and you just… just vanish on me like that again—then I’d—I’d…”

And then his next words steal the air from your lungs, wipe your head clear of any thoughts whatsoever—the hushed, vehement sincerity in his voice. Yet… calm. Certain, composed, and with purpose. Almost as if he could only get you to understand one thing, then he would want it to be this.

“Then I’d tear this whole galaxy apart to find you,” he tells you quietly, tightening his hands on your arms and swearing an oath to you. “Both. Both of you. I’d—I’d never stop. I’d rain hell. Tell me you understand.”

“I… I understand,” you finally murmur, and Din quickly pulls you to his chest and wraps himself around you once more without another word. His fingers tangle in your hair and encourage you to rest your face in the crook of his neck, so you do. Even though his helmet jabs uncomfortably at your cheek like this, you do your best to just settle down and breathe him in, bring your hands up to rub at his back and wait for his heart rate to slow.

Eventually it does. It seems like it takes ages, but eventually he's able to unwind his large stature from around you, letting you have a bit more of your own space. He doesn’t take his hands off you, though—his palm drags down your elbow and catches your bare hand in his, gently tugging.

“Let’s go,” he says quietly, beginning to lead you… somewhere. Probably out of the forest and back to the ship, but you don’t question it and completely forget about the low rumbling still echoing in the distance. You follow directly behind him and away from the mysterious sound, the fingers of your right hand still laced with his left, knowing there are far more important questions to be asked.

“Din,” you whisper, but he doesn’t need anymore prompting.

“I thought I’d be quick enough,” he admits, pulling you along by your hand. “It’s barely been a couple hours.”

You stay silent and focus on your feet, letting him go at his own pace. More than once he plays bodyguard, standing in front of wickedly sharp branches while you and the kid pass, and there’s never anything said beyond a quiet ‘thank you’ every time he does it.

“I’ve…” he says after a while. “I’ve been doing this job for awhile. And there are things… things you learn. Quick. Ways to predict people, ways to get in their heads. Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry. Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people. Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring. But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists. The ones that don’t ever put up a fight. Watch your feet.”

You blink and stumble over a hidden root nonetheless, trying to keep up both physically and mentally. Din tightens his grip and catches you by your elbow.

“This one was like you,” he goes on, pulling you up and leading you forward once more. “Wasn’t trying to run. Just wanted to spend his last few months hiding out on the most beautiful place in the galaxy before he got caught.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up? Why’d you go in the middle of the night?” You whisper, not upset anymore. Just trying to understand. “You couldn’t have waited until morning?” But Din just shrugs.

“I didn’t want to remind you.” His sentence is short and stunted, yet serves to answer all three of your questions without providing any information beyond that, the unspoken sentiment barreling forth and smashing into you full force. He didn’t want to remind you. He wanted to leave while you were asleep and then return before you woke up, never letting you remember that responsibilities exist beyond this gorgeous planet for the time being.

You’re a bit shocked, to be honest. In hindsight, though, you suppose it makes sense. Din was the one who navigated to this sector, kept the bag out of your reach the whole day. If the kid had decided to wake up just an hour or two later, he would’ve been back by then, and you would’ve never known any different.

“Anyway,” he clears his throat, and a wave tiredness suddenly grips you. Fuck. Too much thinking. “The quarry went willingly, they always do when their last wish is to chase down a pretty landscape. Nice guy. Found him camped out by a giant—”

Din suddenly goes oddly quiet, and you’re too exhausted to push it. You’re starting to drag a little bit. You woke up in blind panic and have been on edge ever since, and now that you know things are okay, your body just wants more sleep. The trees blur as you keep moving forward, zoning out and knowing you likely have another few miles of walking before you’re back.

You almost trip over him. You don’t even notice he’s there until you nearly run into him. In your defense, the only visible part of him is his helmet; the clothing is too dark under the thick treetops to see anything else. Still, it takes you a second, and you blink down at Din’s crouched figure in front of you, blocking your intended path.

“Up,” he turns to mutter over his shoulder when you ultimately fail to comprehend.

…There’s no way.

Hesitantly, you lift one of your knees to his side and feel his arm firmly hook under it. Emboldened, you lean down until your forearm can wrap around the front of him, and then you do a stupid little bunny hop along the curve of his spine. Din easily catches your other leg before rising up.

He bounces you higher on his back once he’s upright, and you’re automatically resting your chin on his shoulder and clinging to him, your heart filling with butterflies as he begins trudging forward.

It’s… oddly comfortable. As long as you keep your arms wrapped tight around his chest, you can bury your face into him and drift in and out. He goes out of his way to keep you as level as you can possibly be, trying to soften his steps so your jaw doesn’t bounce on top of him while he steps over fallen logs and ducks to avoid low hanging leaves.

Later—you’re not sure how long it’s been, his voice comes through the modulator, ringing with your ear pressed against the helmet no matter how quiet he tries to be.

“How’d you know I went on a hunt?” He asks, and there’s a soft reservation in his tone, as if he doesn’t really want to speak but needs to ask you anyways.

“Mmm?” You slur into the fabric stretching over his shoulder, probably drooling on it a bit, too. “Hmm?”

His voice increases marginally in volume, but still maintains a gentle undertone that lulls you into relaxing deeper. “You knew I left to look for the quarry—how?”

“Fob,” you tell him tiredly, not having much energy to spare the words. “Wasn’t in the bag.”

You’re too out of it at this point, it takes a moment to realize Din has abruptly slowed down. “How’d you know there was a tracking—”

“You’re… reflective?” You ask, though you don’t really know why you’re asking. “S’to your detriment. Sometimes.”

That seems to stun him somewhat, halting him in place for the time being. The biggest response it gets from you is the tiniest little eyebrow twitch inwards, wondering why the steady movements of your transportation seems to have temporarily stalled. “How’d you know I left my armor?”

“Hmm?” You ask again, not really hearing him.

“Hey, stay awake for a second,” he bounces you and you groggily mutter something under your breath that even you can’t comprehend. Din glosses over it while you blink your eyes open. “Tell me how you knew. You didn’t go back to the Crest.”

You drag your head off his shoulder and squint around, looking around at the edge of the forest and the flowing grass beyond and trying to think with your stupid, tired brain, really needing to focus on the question. “…No?”

The curiosity in his voice can’t be masked, not by him nor the filter through which it’s processed. “So how did you know I left my armor on it?”

“You would’ve left a trail,” you shrug. “The grass is tall.”

“I could’ve just taken the path we made earlier,” he eventually proposes, still completely motionless in the middle of the relatively sparse number of trees leading to it. “Gone back to the ship exactly the way we came.”

“Y’could’ve,” you admit with a yawn. “But the ship is that way,” you lazily raise your arm and point a good fifty or so degrees to the left, and Din follows his own outstretched gauntlet you’re still sporting around your hand with the visor.

“I’m impressed,” he finally says, shifting you on his back but perfectly content to keep his feet rooted to the spot. “I didn’t think you had a good sense of direction. You know where the Crest is on this planet but not when we were on Canto Bight.”

You snort a laugh. No, no you have no such thing—you got lost as fuck in this forest. A good sense of direction counts as a solid survival skill, and you’d say you still very much lack most of those. Besides pulling water out of thin air, you can’t claim to know much of anything at all in that department.

“Mmm. No, that was just—“ you shake your head. “Y’know, jus’ some… panicked? Math? That’s all.”

“Panicked…” Din repeats slowly, “…math.”

You nod, frustrated that he’s still not moving, clearly waiting for you to explain your rapid, chaotic thought process from earlier. Still, you do your best for him, trying not to slur your words too much. “We… walked towards the sun this morning to get to the field. I remember, because your shiny ass was blinding me the entire time, what must’ve been like. A whole fucking hour? At least. And… and then we walked a little less to get here, forty-five minutes probably, then me ‘n the kid watched the sunset leaning up against that one log, which was at a solid angle—little more than fifty degrees to the right from the path. You could’ve retraced your steps from earlier if you really wanted to, but taking the shortcut would’ve shaved off about...” you snuggle your face into his shoulder deeper for a moment and think really hard about it. “Thirty minutes? Or an hour round trip. Give or take, since the kid slowed us down.”

He still doesn’t move, and you huff quietly, feeling like you’re on top of a stubborn blurg that just can’t be fucking bothered. Should you squeeze your legs around his middle? Will that work?

“You… went on a hunt, sweet girl,” Din finally says, bluntly, after way too long of a pause. He sounds vaguely impressed for reasons beyond that of your comprehension right now. “In your own little… panicked way. How does it feel?”

“Unsuccessful,” you breathe, burying your forehead into his shoulder once more and blinking your eyes shut. Too much thinking, too much thinking. You need to sleep.

“You were on the right track,” he hums, bouncing you up and setting off again, and you can’t help yourself. It’s completely involuntary, tumbles out of your mouth without thought.

“Craziest bounty hunter in the guild,” you slur, and Din doesn’t give you even a shred of the laughs that deserves.

“I should make you walk just for that,” he threatens instead, though he does no such thing. He just keeps leaning forward in a position that can’t be comfortable for him and lets you fall asleep on his back, holding you tight to his body as he finally breaks out of the last trees and continues hiking through the familiar field to go back home.

***

You rouse twice. Once, when hands allow your legs to slowly slide down a firm body and settle on solid metal. He spins around to catch you before you can collapse, and then slowly eases your exhausted body down to the floor.

A bare hand cradles the back of your head until that finally settles down, too.

The second time, you can’t quite be sure of. One of those moments where you’re barely conscious, drifting to the point where everything around you could be part of your dreamscape, where you can’t trust your own ears or mind to differentiate between what is real and what isn’t. All you’d need is a single person telling you this didn’t actually happen and you’d accept it without question.

Pacing. Quiet footsteps moving back and forth across the floor as you sleep, pausing every once in a while to stand in front of your slumbering figure. Something unintelligible is mumbled as he walks away, the hollow thunk of boots clambering up a ladder. Engines rumble to life under your ear, and gravity gently pushes you deeper against the flat metal supporting your body.

The footsteps soon return and start to pace around once more.

***

“Hey,” a quiet voice murmurs, your shoulder rocking back and forth slightly. “Wake up.”

You blink your eyes open to a familiar visor looking down at you, his hand quickly leaving your shoulder and brushing a gloved thumb across your cheekbone when he sees you’re awake. “Mm? Din? Wha’s—” you glance around you at the dark hull of the Razor Crest, before blinking your tired gaze back to him, “—s’going on? Wha’ time s’it?”

“Late,” he whispers. “We’re in the air. I had to wait until the kid was asleep, but I want… I want you to see something.”

“What is it?” Still blinking blearily, you sit up, but then Din grabs your hands and keeps your momentum going until you’re slowly dragged to your feet. What you do when you’re standing upright doesn’t really qualify as standing or upright—you just sag against him with exhaustion as he wraps his forearms around your lower back, keeping you pressed tight against him as your ankles drag uselessly against the ground.

“Use your feet,” he reminds you quietly, and you harumph in a grumpy response. Maker, you want to go back to sleep. You’re sure you tell him as much, but he just shushes you and encourages you to hold yourself up, letting go while you steady yourself but hovering his palms a few inches away from your arms just in case. “I want you to put my helmet on.”

“Excuse me?” You ask him, swaying slightly and rubbing one of your eyes, not feeling amused. “Is this some kind of… power trip? Or something? Because you’ve spent the last few days literally beating me up, I’d assume that would be enough for y—”

“I let you beat me up,” he grumbles under his breath. “How are you ever gonna take a punch if it hurts you that bad to just throw one, sweet girl?”

“I’ll punch first,” you respond groggily, trying to move forwards so you can lean on him again, but being stopped by a firm grip on your shoulders.

“I know you will,” he mutters, letting go after a second to brush your hair away from your squinty eyes. “Listen, I want you to put my helmet on, okay?”

You nuzzle your head into his leather palm and hum, giving it some thought. “Are you gonna… turn on the light thingie?” You clarify, not being able to remember what the setting is called, and he nods.

“Yes,” he tells you very seriously. “There’s a… stars, a ‘noise thingie’ that I’ll turn on, too. You won’t be able to see or hear for a little bit—you’ll have to trust me.”

“Is this for sex?” You blurt as soon as the thought occurs to you, and Din sighs heavily, letting his head drop to his chest in exasperation. “Like some sort of a… sensory deprivation thing? Because if so, I can like—I mean I can get into it.”

“If I say yes, will you put it on?” He tries, and. Well, that question shouldn’t wake you up nearly as much as it does. You blink at him, actually registering the sight of the mirrored visor this time. Your gaze drops to see he’s back in full beskar regalia, his body looking even larger and broader with it on.

“Oh,” you say quite suddenly, remembering the question. “Oh. Shit yeah, I will.”

He shakes his head. You’re getting better and better at reading him—becoming more fluent in helmet, one could say—and this head shake says he can’t believe he’s actually surprised that worked. “It’s not for sex,” he tells you immediately, deadpanning the delivery even more than he typically would. “Will you still put it on?”

You look at him blankly, wondering why this is even happening. He said you’re in the air right now, and there’s… something he wants you to see? Whatever this is, it’s spur of the moment. Something he felt the need to wake you up for, but likely won’t push if you decline.

“Yeah,” you nod, “'course I will.”

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, tipping your chin up slightly in the dim hull so he can watch. Since they already want to do so regardless of the gentle command, your lids readily dip shut and you wait patiently as his touch leaves you for a moment.

You’re already sagging a bit by the time one of his hands returns to your cheek, and then plush lips press gently to yours. The sigh you give him is completely involuntary—aching and quiet and longing as you let it go right in his mouth, your expression narrowing with concentration.

But he’s quick. He leans back before either of you can get lost in it and reminds you with a gorgeous, rumbling baritone, “You’ll have to trust me.”

You nod in confirmation and soon his helmet is carefully being lowered over your head. This is the second time around he’s done this—and you suppose if you couple that with your still lazy demeanor, the silent darkness that comes along with it doesn’t bother you as much as it did a few months ago. The padding still grips your cheeks and you still feel disconnected from your surroundings—even more so now than the last time he put it on you—but it’s welcoming, in a way. Giving you a reason to cling to him and tilt your head with the unfamiliar weight, breathing slow and easy while isolated in your own little pitch black world.

Oh Maker, you could probably fall asleep again just like this, so long as he keeps holding you up. But Din has other plans, clearly. He eases you backwards, continues to walk you back and back and back some more, and you have no problem just going with it. He’s strong, taking almost all of your weight and somehow instinctively knowing how to hold you so that you’re fully supported no matter how you’re positioned. He shifts you to one arm at one point, does something with his free hand that you can’t really figure out but aren’t really bothered by either.

He guides you both a few more steps backwards, and you start to wonder how long the hull actually is. But then he suddenly grabs you tight—tight enough to make your eyes pop open to the black void in front of you and panic slightly, before he tilts you back even more and suddenly the ground is dropping out from under your feet, the air rushing silently around your entire body.

Okay, now you full-on panic.

He doesn’t let go, thank the stars, even when you scramble up to straddle and cling to him, heart clanging hard against your sternum at his fucking audacity. The jet pack? Are there just no fucking rules anymore?

Sure enough, the thrusters kick in and he’s good enough with the phoenix to counteract the gravity shift as much as possible, making it a gradual thing instead of a rapid change in motion. You’re almost confident you would’ve slipped out of his grip and gone slamming to the ground had he not done the preventative maneuver.

Regardless, you’re gonna fucking kill him. You’re going to murder Mando and get your own bounty puck, one with your name on it. It won’t end well; everyone after you will have a personal vendetta considering you offed one of their own. If you survive the confrontation then you’ll likely get taken to mine spice somewhere for the rest of your miserable life, probably Kessel—that is, assuming he doesn’t kill you first, within the next however many minutes.

And oh, he seems like he takes his sweet fucking time, hauling your fuming, decapitated ass along on a late night joyride. Every second he continues to allow you to fly in blind, deaf isolation is another butt whooping you’re vowing to give him, and it pisses you off even more that you can’t even express your righteous fury because you can’t let go of him. You’re a parasite in midair, clinging to his metal body while he slowly descends, navigating you both down until you feel his boots finally meet solid ground.

You carefully reach for the ground with one foot and try to feel it with your tippie toes just in case he’s somehow tricking you, until Din drops you down and your feet mercifully meet dirt. As soon as you find your balance, you shove an open palm against the metal of his chestplate in anger and Din quickly catches your wrist, the beskar shaking slightly under your hand like he found the whole thing rather humorous.

You don’t have much time to fuss. He spins you around and then his hands settle on your shoulders, and for some reason… you only notice it now. The fabric covering your torso and legs is gradually becoming damp for some reason. You can’t feel any real splashes of water—no raindrops or anything, but it gets worse and worse the longer he holds you steady in front of him.

His hands eventually drag down your arms and elbows, until they’re catching your wrists and slowly pulling both of them up. Din cradles the backs of your hands as he presses your palms against the cold metal helmet around your head, and then he gradually begins to pull it up, and—

—Loud.

You stop for a second.

… Tears spring up.

Din keeps pulling.

What starts out as a dull hiss continuously amplifies as the beskar slowly lifts, growing louder and louder in volume until it’s a deafening, violent, thunderous roar.

Yet still, you don’t open your eyes. You just… listen to it. Let the sound of it fill your heart, the same sound you caught earlier in the forest but now amplified exponentially, almost surrounding you with reverberating white noise. Your whole body is practically drenched in water by the time you finally open your eyes and blink through the heavy mist.

He said no oceans, and he was right. It isn’t an ocean—it’s… something so unbelievably beautiful that you don’t even have a name for it. You don’t want one, not really. There isn’t a name that would be good enough. It’s easily—by and far, in your measley handful of decades of existence—the most majestic thing you’ve ever seen. A gigantic, enormous cliff dwarfs you on three sides, with tens of thousands of tons of water arcing over their sharp edges and plunging into the rocky lake below.

The cloud of droplets ricocheting from the base of the jaw dropping cascade is massive in and of itself—easily taking up a good quarter of your field of view even from this distance away. The shore sits close enough but the spectacle is still somewhat distant, remaining an untouchable heaven, a gorgeous lake separating you from it and rippling with waves that settle to lap at the sand.

The rest of the setting comes later, after you’re able to process the main event. You’re in the middle of the forest from before—familiar colossal trees wrap around the shoreline and vibrant shrubbery blankets the edges of the falling water, evergreen and fed by a constant nourishing mist. The sun is also beginning to come up. You can’t see it yet, but you can see the way the sky is starting to gradient itself from a starry midnight blue to pale lavender, the first rays beginning to peak over the treetops.

You feel yourself take a few, slow steps forward, but leather catches your hand from behind and gives it a firm squeeze before you can move completely out of reach. You don’t even have to look back at him to know what it means. The sentiment transfers seamlessly—be careful, he says, before dropping it and letting you continue forth.

Reaching the shore brings even more beauty to a backdrop you didn’t think could get any better. You have to carefully step over—oh, heavens—small, transparent crystals tinted every color you can imagine to reach the water, sparkling under the gently lapping waves. They’re like thin, flat shards of glass, and you know that if the sound of the falling water wasn’t so deafening, you’d probably be able to hear the muted crunching noise they make shattering under your boots with every cautious step. Jagged edges and multicolored powder is all that’s left in your wake, no matter how careful you try to be.

You almost don’t want to move since they’re so delicate and everywhere, probably blanketing the entire floor of the lake, but you push forward with purpose until you’re just close enough to squat down and dip your fingers into the cool water. It’s crystal clear and reflects the lightening sky with every gentle ripple and disturbance. You study the pieces of glass as the repetitive waves distort their shape, the colorful shards turning to smooth, round pebbles the closer they are to the water. A large green one catches your eye—circular and comparatively tiny, but standing out amongst all the rest.

You pluck it from the shore and let the almost perfectly round emerald sphere roll around in your palm, scanning the shallow water once more. Then, ah—there, you reach out and grab a slightly larger, heavier, unassuming brown one that you have to hold up to the gradually rising sun to see its sparkle. It’s got harder edges and feels rougher in your hand but you like it that way. You like that there’s a bit of a warm amber at its center when the light hits it right.

Perfect. Taking another moment to study your choices, you eventually end up finding a gorgeous, slightly pearlescent piece that sits just between the size of the other two in your collection. It’s tinted a pale, off-white amongst a sea of color and there’s something gentle about it that speaks to you, something that feels right about the gradual sloping curves and how it sits in your palm.

Carefully pocketing the three pieces of fragile glass and rising up, you glance back to see Din standing there, helmet on once more and frozen right where you last left him.

He looks… awkward, almost. Holding his hands behind his back, all his weight shifted to one foot while the other twists back and forth against the ground just slightly. Nervous, for some reason. Feeling unsure of his place. The posture tugs at your heartstrings, as well as the spectacular gesture, and you soon make your way back to him.

“Where did you… where did you find this!?” You have to yell over the rushing water once you get close enough. “I didn’t see anything on the navcomp—”

“—wasn’t—navcomp—” he replies, barely just loud enough for you to hear. You miss most of it, but you’re able to piece together the gist based on what little you can catch. “—quarry—isolated sector—uncharted.”

Uncharted. It’s uncharted, the navcomp wouldn’t register it. Untouched by millennia of progress. Plenty of people have probably seen it before, but apparently none of them have ever told anybody about it. The universe is vast but it’s also old—it’s unbelievable that cartographers have plotted almost the entire galaxy but they still missed something like this.

The roar of the marvel is so deafening, it takes you a moment to realize he’s still speaking

“—nobody—yet—it—” he nods the helmet out at the spectacular landmark, “—it’s yours—you want—”

“My what!?” You bellow, but he doesn’t clarify or add anything new. He just spins you around again, extending his arm out over your shoulder to point at the breathtaking view and then dropping his helmet down next to your ear.

“Yours,” Din repeats firmly, resolutely. Nothing more to be said.

You’re not sure if you’re crying yet, there’s too much water in the air to tell. All you can do is just instinctively lean all your weight back into his chest and let his arms lace around your body, and you have to blink the droplets away as they start to trail down your forehead and into your eyes. He keeps you like that until the rising sun begins to reflect off the cloud of mist at the rocky base of the monument, scattering light in all directions and splitting it into a beautiful spectrum that reflects every color.

You wonder if Din can see it. You wonder if there’s a filter on his helmet that isn’t infrared or night vision, where a computer isn’t constantly alerting him to movement or sudden changes in atmospheric pressure. Just… pure, unobstructed, visible light. You know there’s probably all sorts of tracking measures programmed in, you know he can zoom and spot a sniper from a vast distance—you know he sees things you don’t. Things you won’t ever see. But you also hope the visor isn’t shaded too dark—you hope there’s a setting that works like a one way mirror, if only so that he can also see the beauty of this planet the same exact way you can.

You eventually turn in his arms and take one small step away from him just so you can look at him, and sure enough, the visor is tilted up towards the natural beauty. Your eyes study every inch of him as if you’ve never seen him before, as if he may as well have taken the helmet off right in front of you. This is thoughtful. It’s so fucking thoughtful of him. For being such a mystery, this right here… this is soul bearing. It’s not an ocean, it’s a million times better than one and the fact that he not only remembered you telling him something like that, but he actually flew you out here to see it. It makes your chest ache with an unknown feeling, one you still have trouble recognizing. It settles down right in the softest part of you, makes your mouth open and give it a four letter name.

You say it so softly, confess it knowing he’s not looking, knowing he’d never be able to hear above the sound of the cascading rapids crashing against the rocks below. You can’t hear it either, but you can feel it. The way the word lilts off your tongue, the simple truth in it that’s impossible to hide from any longer.

He glances back at you, before doing a double take. Gently, Din pushes at your shoulder and urges you to face forward again, to take all of it in while you still can, and yet.

All you can see is him.

His head slowly turns back down to face you, and your eyes keep shamelessly scanning every bit of him, watching the mist droplets chase each other down the reflective metallic curves and contours of his helmet. Din slowly leans in, carefully eases his arm under yours and wraps tight around your lower back to bring you closer to his side. You sigh and press up against him, your palm creeping up the damp fabric wrapped around his throat. The visor doesn’t leave you, even when your temple comes to rest against his pauldron. No, he just allows the smooth metal covering his forehead to gently touch yours for a moment and hold there. Both of you tucked away in the middle of a hidden paradise, standing in front of a gorgeous monument crafted by the hands of the Maker himself.

And, like the two starry eyed idiots you are, neither one of you can seem to look away from the other.

You mouth a silent thank you to him, hoping he can read the heartfelt candor from your lips. Something tells you your message was received, because his grip tightens. As if in slow motion, his whole body lazily drops down just enough to scoop you up with an arm hooked under your knees—before Din suddenly rockets upwards.

You squeal and cling tight to his shoulders as he lifts you up higher, and higher—he slowly rises across the considerable length of the lake and closer to the falling water. You’re already beyond drenched but as he gradually approaches the base of the falling water, it starts raining down and splashing you in buckets.

Once he’s near enough to the powerful, arcing column pouring over the long rocky edge, Din carefully spins around and hovers until his back faces it, which means you can hide your nose and mouth from the splashes against the armor shielding his shoulder. He slowly rises up the length of the natural landmark and lets you watch the rushing water up close behind the safety of his body, sacrificing his own view so that yours can be all the better.

Eventually the falling waves break and you look down at the broad, gorgeous rapids flowing out towards you, the sun casting its dawning light over their foaming peaks. Din spins around and you adjust yourself accordingly against his chest, knowing you’ll never have a view like this again. He flies low along the river and you can see the colorful glass sparkling through the strong, yet completely transparent current. Soon he levels out and you cling tight to him, burying your face in the soaking wet fabric of the cowl wrapped around his neck and sighing, unable to recall a time you’ve ever been happier. It swells in your heart and warms your entire body even as it’s drenched in cool water, and you wonder again how he could’ve ever thought you were running from him. How could he ever think you’d run from him when all he’s ever done is give you wings?

***

The Crest hurdles through hyperspace while Din silently removes his armor and then strips you both of your sopping wet clothes. You remember your glass souvenirs at the very last second and carefully remove them from your pockets despite your closed eyes, reaching out to hand them to Din without looking. His palm catches the pebbles with the quiet sound of them clinking together, and you feel him pause for a second, probably studying them as he cradles them in the dim, single fluorescent light he left on.

You feel him leave you momentarily, hear him gently set them down someplace safe without a word. When he comes back and his warm arms snake around you once more, he lowers you down to the blankets and then proceeds to make the softest love to you he knows how on the floor of his ship.

A small part of you wishes you were still on Naboo, but somehow. Somehow, despite the dead quiet hull, it’s better than anything you can remember.

His naked body presses tight to yours, his mouth always open and tasting wherever you’ll let him venture, never letting you forget for a single second that he’s just as bare and exposed as you are. Your hands take full advantage, feeling everything. The strong, rippling muscles of his back as he props himself over you, the soft hair curling at his nape, the length of his spine shielding you from the rest of the ship, allowing you the opportunity to pretend you’re somewhere else if you really tried. If you tried, you could convince yourself you’ve got a mattress beneath you instead of a blanket draped over hard steel. You could convince yourself your eyes are open while he kisses you, despite knowing it’ll never be allowed.

But… you don’t. You don’t need to. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

And then at one point, his mouth is between your legs and you see a flash of his forehead on complete accident.

To see it on any other person would be nothing, it would mean absolutely nothing. It’s not like it somehow makes him anymore recognizable to you—plenty of people share the same exact features, you still wouldn’t know him out of a trillion different faces. He could walk right by you and you’d never know. Technically, it’s not even his face—it’s just a small fragment of it. But to you, the quickest glimpse of dark, wavy locks curtaining over the smooth, golden skin just below his hairline… it means everything to you. You sear it into your memory, right alongside the sight of crystalline water roaring over an enormous cliff edge.

You never tell him you saw. He never finds out.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #fanfic #reader insert

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disgruntledspacedad · 4 years ago

Text

The Rules of Engagement (5/5)

part of the The Better Love Series

pairing: Javier Peña x fem reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do.

words: 5.7k

warnings: 18+ - drugs, violence, language, alcohol, smut.

a/n: many many notes at the end. unbeta’d as always.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Javi clicks off the radio as soon as the car starts, and you spend the first half of the ride in silence. For a while, he seems to be focused intently on driving, but you know him well enough to see the wheels turning in his head. Sunglasses hide his eyes, but still, there’s something about that little frown that suggests that his thoughts are far from lunchtime traffic.

It doesn’t bother you - your mind really isn’t on the road, either.

“I can’t figure it out.” You’re startled to find that it’s your voice breaking the silence.

“Can’t figure out what?” Javi takes a deep drag from his cigarette. He’s still not looking at you.

“Who did this, and why.” You swallow past the emotion that wells in your throat, firmly redirecting your thoughts to facts and evidence. “It wasn’t an accident, Peña, I’m ruling that out now. Somebody planted a bomb in Emilio’s store.”

Javi purses his lips tightly.

“And call me crazy, but I can’t help but think that it has something to do with Escobar.” Your voice is rising now as you warm to the argument. “Like, this is his MO, right? Bombing civilian small business, terrorism, chaos…” you trail off, furrowing your brow as you rest your forehead against the cool window. “Just… why here? Why Bogotá?”

Why Emilio?

Javi’s face freezes. He’s quiet for a long time. You watch him warily from the corner of your eye. To the casual observer, he’s all calm stoicism, snuffing his cigarette and reaching both hands to finger the steering wheel. But you know better - you read the subtle stiffness in his shoulders, the carefully shuttered expression, the white knuckle grip that suggests that he’s far more stressed than he’s letting on.

Something wild throbs in your chest and you have a sudden, irrational suspicion that he might know more than he’s saying. The moment stretches, and just as you’re ready to panic, Javi huffs a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know,” he admits in a low voice, and the bubble of uncertainty shatters. “But I’m going to find out.”

There’s something cold in his tone, a controlled, a calculated malice that threatens vengeance, and you rest your forehead against the window, wondering at the profound sense of reassurance you draw from his words.

Out of nowhere, a truck swerves in front of you, and Javi leans hard on the horn, cursing and flipping off the driver out the window as you weave past him.

You can’t help a small smile at that - Javier Peña, taking out his worries on the unassuming drivers of Bogotá.

Again, silence stretches between you.

“I think it’s time you told me about your morning.” Javi’s voice is soft, but still, you know it’s not a request.

“There’s not much to tell,” you confess. Again, not entirely true, but you haven’t even begun to process it all, and the details are overwhelming to contemplate. “I volunteered to stay over at headquarters. They wouldn’t put me in the air two nights in a row, but still, I wanted to know what was happening.”

His lips twitch at this.

“It was quiet. I left around seven, I think. I’m not entirely sure. Figured somebody would call me with news. And then…” You pause, swallowing hard. “I was almost home. At the corner of 70.”

You remember waving to Emilio, the way his eyes had lit up when he’d spotted you, his toothy grin. He’d been so proud, introducing you to that guaro.You blink, bracing yourself against the yawning pit of grief that threatens to open in your chest. Not now. Please.

“Then the store exploded.”

You and Javi draw a deep breath at the same time. The ensuing silence is stifling.

“Then what?” he prompts you gently.

You glance up, noticing that he’s parked the car. Neither of you move.

“I stumbled back,” you continue haltingly. You just want this conversation to be over. “It’s all kind of a blur, from there. It was really weird, like… like being in a time warp, or something.”

He nods grimly, like he understands.

“I decided to go to your place…” you’re nervous, confessing this part to him. As tense as he is, as awkward as things have been, any reference of your previous liaisons feels like stirring hot shit with a stick. “I just, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You didn’t wait for the police to arrive?”

Desperation and indignation rise in you. “Javi, I’d just witnessed my fucking apartment go up in flames, okay? Excuse me if I didn’t perform to your exacting standards!”

He presses his lips together in a firm line, and oh, fuck. You realize that you’ve just called him by his name again - something you’ve made a point not to do since that horrible morning in the shower.

Ugh.

You drop bonelessly against the passenger seat, all of the fight leaking from you. This fucking day… god, just, fuck this day.

“I’m sorry.” Javi’s voice is so whisper-quiet that it almost doesn’t register.

You take three deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and out.

“It’s fine,” you say, once you’re grounded again. “But I’m - I’m just done talking, okay?”

“Yeah.” Javi opens his door with a deep sigh. “Okay.”

♠

Javi lets you in, and you go straight for the sofa, settling awkwardly with your hands in your lap.

God, now what? You’re right back where you started - no home, no job to do, and no answers. Exhaustion and helpless resignation swallow you whole, and you sit like that for a long moment, staring into the middle distance and fighting the urge to rest your head in your hands.

After a while - you’re not sure how long - you notice the absolute silence permeating the apartment. Javi hasn’t moved, hasn’t spoken. You’d totally forgotten he was there.

You glance up.

He’s draped against the front door with his arms folded defensively across his chest, frowning fiercely at nothing.

“Hey.” You aren’t aware that you’ve moved until you’re standing in front of him.

His eyes flutter shut and he exhales, long and slow, tilting his head back against the door so that he’s facing the ceiling, and okay, now you’re seriously freaked out.

“Javi?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whispers.

“Can’t do what?”

He grimaces like the sound of your voice is painful. “Please don’t make me.”

You take a half step closer, alarm bells screaming in your head. You have never, ever heard this man beg, not once in all the time you’ve spent together. “Don’t make you… Javi, what?”

His gaze flicks to yours, and you suck a sharp breath.

Javi looks absolutely wrecked. His eyes are wide and dark, brow furrowed deep, and he’s staring at you with so much longing in his expression that little sparks of electricity go zipping across your skin.

“God, Ears, baby, I was there,” he rasps. He takes one quick little step forward, as if to reach for you. “I went to your place as soon as I heard, as soon as the plane landed…”

You brain skitters to a stop.

Oh, Christ. He hadn’t told you that. You don’t even have time to wonder about it, though, because Javi is still speaking, words pouring out of him as if revisiting the memory has cracked him wide open.

“And it, it was a fucking crater, okay? And nobody had seen you, nobody had heard anything, and they had the fucking - the fucking body bags -” His voice cracks, and he presses his fists to his eyes, as if to hide his face while he gathers himself.

Horror floods you. You’re starting to put it all together now. You’d been so distracted by your own terrible day that you’d not once thought to ask about Javi’s. You imagine him at the bomb site, picking his way through ash and rubble, flashing his badge at firemen and emergency responders, firing off questions, watching them load up body bags…

Oh, fuck.

Javi shakes his head sharply, as if dispersing the memories, and when he looks up, his eyes are red-rimmed and wet. “Querida,” he breathes, pinning you with an expression of open desperation. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Oh.

It takes a lot to scare Javier Peña. You know this. He’s a fearless man. He has to be.

But this morning, Javi had been terrified. You recall his voice over the phone, tense and clipped, the blustered sigh of profound relief, the clattering footsteps as he’d raced up the steps, his eyes, not quick and efficient, but frantic as he’d taken you in, alive and healthy and wearing his clothes.

“I’m right here,” you whisper, unable to articulate just how profoundly you mean that. You’re still reeling from the implications of it all.

“I know,” Javi chokes. He blinks hard, almost like he’s baffled by it. “You’ve been right here the whole time.” He hitches a breath. “And goddammit, baby, I can’t sit here and listen to you say my name without wondering what the hell else I’m losing.”

Reality shifts and realigns in an instant. Fear and disbelief give way to fierce longing, and your voice comes out as a choked whisper. “Come here.”

Javi does, haltingly at first, as if wondering if you really mean it. You fall into his arms, and he pulls you close, reverently, as if you are the most precious thing in the world. He presses his forehead carefully to yours, catching your jawline with his palms and threading his fingers through your hair.

“God, baby,” he rasps. “When I saw you… When I heard your voice…”

“I’m okay,” you remind him, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m okay.”

He sighs deeply, and a bubble of tension you weren’t even aware of bursts at the sound. You melt into him, and he holds you tightly for a long, long time, swaying your bodies gently back and forth, your head tucked against his chest.

You tilt your face to him, pressing your lips to his skin, and he huffs brokenly, his body still wrapped around yours like he’s reluctant to create any space between you. He’s shaking as he takes your face in his hands, pausing just long enough to fix you with a wild-eyed, pleading glance.

“Okay?” he breathes.

“God, yes,” you gasp. “Yes.”

And just like that, Javi’s kissing you like a man without air, awkward and starving, catching the back of your neck with one hand, the other roaming beneath your shirt to stroke at your ribcage.

There’s nothing gentle about it. A month’s worth of desperation has been building in both of you, and now, Javi’s frantically mapping your body with his lips and tongue, peppering little licks and kisses and soft nips down your jaw and neck while you scramble awkwardly for the buttons of his shirt. You struggle to keep your fingers under control as one gigantic hand finds your ass and squeezes. You gasp, inadvertently popping his last button.

Damn, you liked that shirt.

Undeterred, you push it aside, finally free to explore his chest and back and belly for the first time in far too long. Javi’s skin is warm beneath your fingertips, his body smooth muscle and soft heat as he leans into you. His hands are snaking beneath your shirt now, one brushing the bare skin of your torso as it wanders up to grasp at your bra, the other gripping at the hollow of your hips. You arch into his touch, groaning low into his mouth, and he bucks in response, cock straining at his jeans, denim deliciously rough against your palm.

“What do you want, baby?” he gasps into the hollow of your throat. Those gorgeous hands have migrated back to your ass now, clutching with a greediness that leaves you panting.

“Just…” God, you can’t even think, your brain flickering in and out, overloaded with pleasure and pent up emotion and Javier Peña. “Just you, Javi. Now. Please.”

He whimpers, his erection digging rock-hard into your belly, and the sound nearly brings you to your knees - cool, collected, suave Javier Peña, keening for you.

Javi hikes you up so quickly that you yelp, hips pinning you as he drives you into the wall. You brace yourself for impact, but he’s already anticipated that - one hand cups the back of your head, cradling you protectively, the other reaching past your thighs to clench at your pussy.

You moan, rocking into him, bracing your elbows against the wall to grant him access. You shimmy your hips, and he hitches your skirt up with a fist, dragging your soaking panties to the side as he buries his fingers inside you.

“Oh,” you gasp.

Javi’s fingers pulse deep into your core, once, and then again, that come-hither curl of them driving you wild as he pumps through your juices. You scramble back, opening yourself as best you can with your limited mobility as he presses his knee beneath your leg to hold you in place.

God fucking damn, there’s something about being pinned to the wall by this man that leaves you trembling and leaking.

Groaning, Javi sinks his mouth onto yours, and you arch up to meet him, sucking sloppily on his lips, his stubbled jaw, whatever you can get to. You tug his hair hard, mostly for leverage, and he gasps, throwing his head back in a way that allows you access to his neck. You love Javi’s neck - it’s delicious, all fascinating gentle dips between tight tendons, and you relish the opportunity to explore each of its arcs and hollows with your tongue.

He shudders as you nip and suck and bite at him, grinding your body against his as you clench your legs around his waist.

You’re both panting at this point, skin slick with sweat. It’s hard to know where you end and Javi begins, but it’s so, so good, feral and desperate and heated, and somehow, he’s still managing to pulse his thumb at your clit. The motion sets a fucking fire in you, slow, deep waves of hot pressure building in your core.

“More, Javi,” you beg against his clavicle, shimmying your hips against his hand. Any other day, you’d be content to stay here, caught between him and the wall as he wrings your orgasm from you with the pads of his fingers. But there’s something else building in you, a desperation that has both nothing and everything to do with physical release, and you just need him closer. “I- I need -”

Javi growls, gently dropping you to the floor as he shucks out of his jeans. You help him along with trembling fingers, giggling incoherently as your heads brush clumsily in your haste. You take the opportunity to shrug out of your shirt and bra, and then Javi’s pinning you with a gaze that’s almost predatory, dark enough to send shivers of anticipation curling down your spine.

You back against the wall and raise a brow, daring him to come get you.

He does, hoisting you up easily - he really is stronger than he looks. One knee hikes beneath your thigh, his opposite hand clenched behind your ass, thumb digging deep into the hollow of your hip. You absently notice that he’s once again braced his opposite hand between your head and the wall, threading his fingers through your loosened braid, but you don’t have time to consider it, because he’s thrusting into you, quick, shallow pumps that leave you gasping for air.

It’s mind-blowingly amazing, and a wild, wanton part of you wonders why the hell you haven’t done this before - just kick off your clothes and go at it like animals in the hallway. You sink deeper onto him, angling your hips just-so, and oh fucking christ, he’s rubbing right against your clit, hard and fast and sloppy in the very best way.

You throw your head back, spasming around him, scrabbling at his shoulders for purchase. He’s still wearing his fucking shirt, and you cling to its open edges with enough force to rip. Javi hisses, rhythm faltering as he slips from you. For a moment, you pause like that, him holding you with shaking thighs, your lungs and skin burning, heaving breaths mingling hot on each other’s faces, but then he’s realigning himself, shifting his angle a little. You shimmy up the wall, desperate to accommodate.

The second round is even more brutal than the first, choppy and shallow. Your abs are burning; it’s a difficult position to maintain, but that familiar fullness is building achingly delicious in your core, so you hold out, gasping. Javi’s breathing raggedly, sweat dripping from his forehead as he presses it against yours, eyes wide and unfocused as he thrusts into you.

He’s trembling with exertion.

“Fuck!” He’s slipped again. You sink to the floor, reaching for his wrist. He looks at you, face twisted in a resentful snarl.

“Javi,” you gasp, kissing him before he can react. What you’re doing is hot as fuck, but it’s not working right now. You’re both too tired, too desperate and shaky, and you need release. “Take me to bed.”

“Hmm,” he moans into your mouth. It must be agreement, because pulls back - you shudder at the loss of contact - and then hoists you over his shoulder in a move that makes your head spin. You giggle a little, breathless and giddy and almost incoherent with need.

Javi carries you through the apartment like that, you clinging to him like a koala bear with your legs locked around his waist and your head draped over his shoulder. He drops you lopsided on his unmade bed. Automatically, you flop over onto your stomach and gather your knees to your chest, remembering how he loves to take you from behind.

“No,” his voice is strained. A hand, surprisingly gentle, tugs at your shoulder, and you go with it, twisting so that you’re on your back again, sideways in the bed. “I need…” Javi’s panting, dark eyes burning a hole in you. “I need to see you, baby.” His voice breaks, his expression vulnerable, almost apologetic.

A rush of affection overtakes you, and you reach for him, pulling him close for another deep kiss. Javi straddles you, palming himself in preparation, and you have the foresight to shove a pillow under your ass - if you’re going to be doing this face to face, then you want him as deep as possible.

When you glance up, he’s watching you open-mouthed, absently tugging at his leaking cock like he just can’t help it.

God, he’s beautiful.

He sucks a startled breath, looking at you in wide-eyed wonder, and oh fuck. You’d said that out loud.

“Javi,” you whine, yanking him closer. You don’t have time to feel awkward, goddammit. You just need him. For real. Inside you. Right now.

You both shudder as he sinks deep into you. He stays still for a moment, and you clench against him desperately, urging him to move, dammit, but he’s holding off.

“Baby,” he rasps, glancing down at you, red-faced. “I’m not - I’m not going to last.”

That confession alone makes something swell tightly in you, and you buck your hips in response. “It’s okay,” you rasp, trying hard be good, to hold still, to not overwhelm him. “I won’t, either.”

He rocks against you, a tiny pulse, just enough to fucking tease, but it must be an unconscious thing, because he’s still looking you in the eye like he’s afraid you’ll reject him, or condemn him.

“Javi, please,” you keen, patience thoroughly spent. You reach up, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades and tugging hard. “I don’t care. I just need you. All of you.”

That gets him moving.

Javi rocks against you, setting up an achingly slow, almost careful rhythm, his left hand still cradled around the back of your neck to brace your head as he draws himself to the hilt, then nearly all the way out again. It’s gentle and sweet, but dammit, you want more. You pull your knees to his elbows to encourage him deeper, digging your heels into his back. Javi gets the message, because he twitches and groans, curling around your body and bracing himself against your shoulders, abruptly driving into you with a force that punches the air from your lungs - hard, fast, and deliciously brutal.

It’s exactly what you need.

You curl up against his chest, abs burning as you glance past your breasts to the place where your bodies are connected. The edges of his open shirt skim the sensitive skin of your ribcage, framing the view and drowning you in more sensation. Heat is pooling in you, tension building and sparking and curling your toes. There’s something surreal and wonderful about watching yourselves work in tandem, his hips and yours, pulsing and perfect.

Javi shudders, and you drag your eyes back to his face, not daring to miss a moment. Fuck, he’s gorgeous, and that expression alone, that little purse-lipped grimace of pleasure, is enough to drive you to the edge. Controlled, careful, restrained Javier Peña coming undone for you, rattled for you, staring at you like it hurts to draw a fucking breath in your presence… goddamn, you twisted little shit, you’re really liking that.

His rhythm is faltering now, thighs clenching erratically, breath coming in ragged little pants. You know that he’s close.

You reach up to stroke his cheek. “Javi,” you whisper. His eyes find yours, glossy and wild. His mouth is open, his brow furrowed. “It’s okay, baby,” you tell him. He trembles in response, a full body shudder, his eyes flickering shut.

“It’s okay. Let go.”

His breath hitches, and he bucks wildly, collapsing against your chest with a low, broken groan. The hot heaviness of him pulsing into you releases a shockwave of pleasure down you spine. You gasp as your core clenches, spreading his heat, but it’s not quite enough, you’re not quite ready, and you grit your teeth at the loss of friction as he softens inside you.

You watch his face twitch, relief and ecstasy and something else, something fierce and sharp that you can’t possibly name.

You groan, reaching your fingers down to your core, battering against him. You tug at your clit, index finger tap-dancing in that perfect circular motion that sends you straight over the edge as Javi flops bonelessly beside you.

Desperate for contact, you sink into him, still working to salvage that orgasm, concentrating hard on the rapid rise and fall of his ribcage with each chugging breath, the heat of his body wrapped around you like a second skin. His eyes flutter open, and there’s a look of quiet desperation on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he babbles, reaching for you with wide eyes. “Babe, I -”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” you reassure him, batting his hand aside with your elbow before he can interfere. The waves are crescendoing now, almost painful in their intensity. You’re so fucking close, words and reason are beyond you. “S’okay, Jav, I’m close… I just need… need you to…. “

“What do you need, baby? Anything.”

“Just - just be here.”

Javi inhales sharply, then gathers you closer to him. “Yeah,” he murmurs, resting his face in the crook of your neck, peppering you with the softest of kisses. One hand rests firmly on your head, its thumb working little circles on your uninjured temple, the other trailing down your body to splay at the sensitive underside of your belly. “I’m here, baby,” he whispers raggedly into your ear. “I’m here.”

Oh god, oh god. The pressure fucking hurts, burning in your toes, clenching in your core, and just when you think that you’re useless today, that sex is absolute bullshit and you can’t possibly take anymore, that -

“You’re so… my god, baby, you’re fucking perfect.”

It’s not Javi’s tone, broken as is is. It’s the frankness of the confession, the rawness. Javier Peña is not a sweet talker, especially not in bed. He’s not pandering to you. It’s more like the words have been dragged from him at gunpoint, pulled from the very deepest recesses of his subconscious, and it’s that honesty, that awed, reverent authenticity, that drives you over the edge.

It all happens in an instant. The bubble of tension in your core bursts abruptly, and you come with a choked gasp, mind blinking in and out as you ride out wave after wave of sweet relief. Javi is with you the whole time, cradling you in his arms as you shatter.

It’s not the longest orgasm you’ve had, or even the most intense, but there’s something about him holding you, about sharing the same skin and air and listening to him murmur sweetly in your ear, that transcends any release you've ever experienced. You ride the waves of your orgasm, swearing to the heavens that you’re breaking apart, and somehow, you’re taking Javi with you like you never have before, splintering and reconverging in a way that’s intimate and vulnerable and precious beyond words.

You come back to reality, breathless and trembling, and the first thing you notice is Javi staring at you with something like reverence in his expression.

“Hey,” he breathes, running a gentle finger down your cheek.

“Mmm,” you curl into his chest, just breathing him in, all warm, sticky skin and stale cigarette and perfect man.

You stay that way for a long time.

“I missed you,” Javi whispers hoarsely, pressing soft lips against your ear.

“I know,” you choke, because you do. That rush of clarity that had effused you in the front hallway is only more potent now. You and Javi had been dancing around each other for months, each of you too stubborn and too afraid to admit to the other that your feelings ran so much deeper than you let on. It’s so obvious now, how stupid you’d both been, and how much you’d missed by being stupid.

You’re horrified to feel tears tracking down your cheeks. God, reality has caught up with you all at once, exhaustion and fear and horror and relief all snarled up with post-coital vulnerability, and you curl deeper into Javi, tucking your face down in an effort to hide.

He notices, though. He always notices. “Baby?” Javi tilts your face up, tracking over you with concerned, dark eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Exposure turns your tears to choked sobs, and it’s all you can do to speak. “I’m fine,” you gasp, and it’s both the truth and a lie. You’ve never felt safer than you feel now, or more connected to another human than you are to Javier Peña in this moment.

And that’s the thing. There’s still so much left to say. So many emotions, so many worries, so much grief. It all wars for dominance in you, everything at once, and you’re not even sure what the fuck you’re crying about until all of the sudden, you’re choking on words.

“Emilio,” you gasp. “He - he -”

Javi draws a sharp breath of understanding, wrapping strong arms around you as you cry.

“He was… he was gone… and there was nothing I could do!”

“Oh, baby,” Javi murmurs into your ear, rubbing tiny circles into the bare skin of your back. “I know. I know. I’m so, so sorry.”

“And, and…” You’re sobbing so hard that your chest burns, and it’s all you can do to breathe, but the dam has burst, and it’s all coming out now, whether you want it to or not. “Oh, god, Javi, I missed you, too.”

He chuckles a little at that, peppering your forehead with gentle kisses and thumbing the tears from your cheeks.

“Steve was right,” he confesses, tucking your head under his chin. “We’re both idiots.”

This startles a wet giggle from you. You imagine Murphy confronting Javi like he’d confronted you, red-faced and indignant and insisting that you both deserve one another. “Yeah,” you sniffle through your tears. “He was.”

“He’ll be insufferable about it, too.” Javi’s holding your hand now, the pad of his thumb rubbing back and forth, back and forth over your knuckles. You sigh breathily into his chest, crying until your sobs turn to shudders, and then finally, until you’re wrung raw and thoroughly exhausted.

Javi holds you the whole time.

You exhale raggedly, noticing for the first time just how slimy you are. “Ugh, gross,” you mutter, covering your face with your hand as you draw away from Javi, horrified.

Jesus Christ, if you’d just slung snot all over Javier Peña’s bare chest… god, you think you won’t survive the humiliation.

But Javi doesn’t seem bothered. He sits up, glancing around his bedroom for a tissue. Finding nothing, he shrugs out of his shirt, offering it to you silently.

You stare at it, then him.

“What?” he asks, incredulous. He’s still holding out the shirt, eyebrow cocked as if to question why you won’t just take it.

“Nothing,” you say. And that’s a lie. There’s something so uniquely Javi about the gesture, wanting you to wipe your nose with the shirt off his back. But that’s just him - genuine, resourceful, efficient. It’s cute and perfect and ridiculous, and it makes your chest swell and ache.

But you can’t quite put all of that into words right now, and you know he wouldn’t understand even if you tried, so you take the shirt from him with a grateful smile and blow your nose in it like a goddamn heathen.

Javi wads it in a tight ball when you’re finished, chunking it unceremoniously on the floor.

You roll your eyes, and he smirks at you, squeezing your hand as he climbs out of bed. After his cigarettes, you think. “Pretty sure you dropped them on the kitchen floor,” you call after him.

“Yup,” he verifies from the hallway.

You take the opportunity to duck into the bathroom and clean up, and by the time you’re done, Javi’s waiting for you, propped up against the headboard with his eyes shut, smoke curling from his mouth. He pats the bed beside him, not looking up, and you snuggle under his arm, sighing contentedly.

This is new, the cuddling, sharing his bed, burrowing against his side as he smokes, and you savor every detail. His skin is still slick with cooling sweat, and you can hear his heartbeat beneath his ribs where your head rests, slow and steady. Neither of you need to speak, each just drawing comfort from the presence of the other.

Afterglow, you decide, is a very good word for it.

“Javi?” you ask after a long, long time.

“Yeah?” he whispers. You wonder if he thought you were asleep.

“What is this?” You wave your hand, indicating the tiny space between his chest and yours. You know what it looks like, and you know what it is for you, but you can’t stand the thought of leaving anything uncertain between you, not after all of this.

Javi takes a deep drag of his cigarette. He holds that breath for a long time, but the silence doesn’t scare you, not anymore. That’s just Javi’s thinking face, the one you know so well.

After a while, Javi turns to face you fully. “This is me,” he starts slowly, reaching for your hands and lifting them to his chest, “deciding that I’m not going to miss any more opportunities.”

Your breath catches. That sounds - well, coming from Javier Peña, it sounds an awful lot like a vow.

“I’m all in, Ears.” Javi kisses each of your hands in turn. “If that’s okay with you.” He glances up almost hesitantly, the question burning in his eyes.

There’s something about the gravitas of the delivery that hints that his words are more than they seem. Javi’s gaze is pinned to yours, dark and serious, and a shiver runs down your spine. You might be lacking some context, but Javi’s resolve is impossible to miss.

You consider it for only half a second. You’ve known for a long time now that there’s a lot more at stake in Colombia than just your career. Hell, you’d known that from the moment you let Javi walk away from your apartment for the first time. And he’s made his position pretty clear, too. You bite back a loopy grin as you remember him blowing past Martinez at headquarters.

Yeah, there’s no salvaging this secret.

"All in," you say, gripping his hands tightly and wishing you could be half as eloquent and intense and awesome as he is. “I like the way that sounds.”

It’s the honest truth.

Javi breaks out into a soft smile that shows off that single dimple, leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead. “Looks like we’re on the same page, then.”

“Yeah,” you try to answer, just as you are interrupted by a huge yawn.

Javi snorts. “Go to sleep, Ears,” he says fondly, pointedly throwing back the bed covers. You shoot him a petulant frown, and he rolls his eyes, undeterred. “Seriously, baby. This is just getting stupid now.”

“Whole day is stupid,” you mutter darkly as you climb under the blankets - not because he told you to, but because you want to.

“Oh really?” Javi teases. “The whole day?”

“Well,” you pretend to contemplate. “Guess the sex was alright.” You grin wolfishly at him from beneath the covers.

His response does not disappoint. “Alright?” He presses a hand to his chest, wounded. “Christ, baby, kick a man while he’s down.” He side-eyes you, frowning. “Guess I really do need to up my game, huh?”

“Your words, Jav,” you mumble. The full force of your exhaustion has hit you with a vengeance, and talking is hard.

“I will make it up to you baby,” he growls in your ear, suddenly serious. “You know I will.”

“Mmhmm,” you sigh. Any other time, that voice would have gone straight to your core, but now, not so much. “I do.”

“Good.” He drops a kiss on your nose, then slips out of the bed. The loss of his body heat is enough to draw you out of your stupor, just for a moment.

“Stay?” you call pathetically, just as the lamp flicks off.

Oh.

Javi settles back in beside you, wrapping his arms around your chest and nuzzling into the back of your neck with his nose. “Yeah, babe,” he whispers into your ear as you finally, finally drift off. “Not going anywhere.”

♠

Author notes/ confessions:

Whew, and that’s a wrap. Big, big notes here guys. I am incapable of being brief, apparently.

First, I know a lot of you are chomping at the bits to know who the fuck bombed Ears’ apartment. I tried to place a few little clues here and there, but ROE takes place sometime between 2.06 and 2.07. To summarize, Los Pepes, the vigilante group targeting Escobar, is funded by the Cali cartel. In retaliation, Escobar starts bombing Cali cartel owned business - their drug stores in particular. This really heated up in Bogotá around December 1992, which is when ROE ends.

Now, here’s the fun thing - Javi is absolutely already working with Los Pepes at this point - a relationship he initiated during the month that he and Ears were on the outs. Ears’ intuition in the car is correct - Javi does know, or suspect, more than he’s saying. This is a major plot point for a story that I have in the pipeline, but working that in here - god, guys, that’s too much, and ROE needed to end like 10k words ago, honestly.

That being said, if anybody has interest in being a beta, or just letting me scream ideas at them, hit me up. This little “one shot” has turned into a full blown universe in my brain, and these ideas are dying to get out.

The sex. Yeah, I know the sex isn’t great, but I wanted it that way. It was a strange choice on my part, both for Javi’s character and as a first foray into writing smut, but it just seemed appropriate. Sex is rarely ever as mind-blowing as depicted in fic, and besides, these two have had lots and lots of perfect sex. They’re a pretty equal match in that department, but this time is different. I wanted to put the emotions on display, rather than the physicality. It just makes sense that this time would be rushed, desperate, and messy. They are both emotionally and physically exhausted. Also, I really, really wanted to come full circle from the shower scene, where Ears never gets her completion, and also the scene on the sofa when Ears comforts Javi after a terrible day by saying, “I’m here.” There’s some sort of cathartic and earned about Ears bringing herself to completion while Javi just holds her. That being said, I know I owe Javi, and you guys, some smutty one-shots. I plan to deliver, I promise.

You’ll notice that I mention ears choking, coughing, sputtering, breathing, wheezing, feeling a tightness in the chest, aching… she’s got a small pulmonary contusion from being in such close proximity the blast zone. It’s a common injury in bombing survivors, and hers isn’t massive or life threatening, just inconvenient. Pulmonary contusion symptoms tend to develop hours or days after the injury, so she’ll steadily get worse, and when she does, the whole story of her experience with the explosion WILL come out. She’s still got a lot of trauma to process, both physically and emotionally, but Javi is gonna be there every step of the way (after he flips shit first, that is). I’ll let you guys imagine this one, though, because I have already dragged ROE out far longer than I really should have, and it’s mostly medical bs, anyway.

Last of all, if you’re still here, thank you. From the bottom of my heart. I haven’t written in years, and this story pushed me far outside of my comfort zone. Your support, comments, likes, reblogs, reaction gifs - they all mean the world to me.

@tiffdawg, you are directly responsible for this dumpster fire. I hope you’re proud. :)

Much, much love, and a happy new year to each of you.

~ Jay

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mega-ultra-so-awesome-it-hurts · 4 years ago

Text

Replaced... For The Better (p2!!!)

Pairings: Paul Lahote x reader, Jasper hale x reader, Paul Lahote x Jasper Hale

Warnings: LOTS of angst. TRIGGER WARNINGS. SHITTY WRITING AND AWFUL AND CLICHE CONCEPT. READ AT OWN RISK.

Genre: ANGSTTTT

Word Count: 1026 (pretty short)

Request: Nope, but Y’ALL I’M BORED!! HIT ME UPPP

A/N: I TOTALLY DID THAT Y’ALL (that’ll make sense towards the end)! Here y’all go. This’ll hurt your damn feelings doe!!

A/N: (GIF’s are not mine! Credit to owners)

You were driving through the suburbs (Yes i did okay? I couldn’t resist. Fight me). You were, by definition, lost.

Come on, Y/N, you scolded yourself. Don’t be stupid. Just turn around. You were still in awe at what you had done. You shouldn’t have. Paul loved you. He’d said so, many times. You were in disarray. If a policeman were to pull you over, he’d probably immediately assume you were using drugs. Your headscarf was hanging halfway off your head, and your duffel bag sat in the seat next to you.

Where would you go? You weren’t sure. Your aunt had said that you were welcome to stay with her if you ever needed, but you didn’t want to bother the poor woman.

It was silly, really. You running away like this. You didn’t know why you had done it. Paul would be so worried. He would probably call Jasper for comfort. And then he would blame himself for your disappearance. Oh, God! Why had you left?

Maybe you had felt jealous? No. That wasn’t your style. Maybe it was the sense of abandonment? Yes, that was it. Your father had left your mother at an early stage in your life. You couldn’t have been any older than 6 years old. It had left a scar. A need to constantly prove your worth. It was unfortunate, really. You had never had a successful relationship because of it. Until Paul.

It was a stormy evening, but you were sitting in the rain. Your mom had just died.

“You okay?” You had jumped at the sudden break in silence.

“Yes.” Your words sounded hollow, even to you. The strange man had sat down with you, and held you in the rain. You had cried for an hour into the arms of a man you didn’t know, but he just held you. Didn’t say a word. Three weeks later, y’all were dating. And nine months after that, y’all were to be married.

The thoughts flowing through your mind became too much for you to handle. You slammed your foot on the brakes, slowing the car down and pulling over to the sides of the road. It was still pitch black outside, but that didn’t phase you. You opened the door, stumbling out of the car. Leaving it behind, keys and all, you ran. You ran away from the car Paul got you as a present for your third date, and with that, it felt like you were running further away from Paul too. Tears stained the ground, signifying that you had been there. They would be dry by morning, but you felt safer this way. It was almost as if you were leaving a trail for him to find.

It was cold, but that was to be expected.You didn’t know what time it was, and you didn’t care. You were running so fast that all sight of your little f/c car with the blinking bright lights, was gone. You stopped to take a breath.

You heard a motor whirring somewhere behind you, but you paid it no mind. It was a road, after all. But then, two blinding lights came rushing towards you from behind. You turned your head, curious as to what the hell that driver was doing. You were greeted by the same blinding lights. Your eyes widened as the truck made impact.

“Dr. Cullen!” Carlisle Cullen turned to see the desk registration woman, a nice elderly woman called Peggy, running towards him.

“We’ve got another one!” Peggy’s face was distressed. She fell in line with Carlisle, having to walk rather quickly to keep up with him.

“Talk to me.”

“Jane doe, car accident. Well, the guy that hit her was in a truck, and he’s fine. But she was most likely not, from what her injuries tell us. Estimated age 19. The poor thing had almost every bone in her body broken. It’s a miracle she’s even still alive. Dr.Cullen, she needs to be-”

“Dad!” Carlisle didn’t pay much attention at first. It was a hospital, after all. There were plenty of fathers here, and plenty of those fathers had sons. But it was the cold hand on his shoulder and the worried golden eyes that alerted him to something being amiss.

“Edward? Son, what’s wrong?” Carlisle searched the boys face for a sign of what was going on.

“Jasper. He’s frantic. Says Paul Lahote called him. Paul’s imprint, Y/N Y/L/N. She’s gone missing. Car, everything. Paul says she left a note. ‘Maybe someday, we can be strangers again.’ Carlisle felt the dread pooling his stomach. Edwards eyes widened.

“You don’t think-”

“I don’t know, Son. Why don’t you head back home? Be with your family.” Carlisle smiled what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Edward was skeptical, but fulfilled his father’s request.

Carlisle hurried to the room that Peggy had informed him held the “poor dear” that was in the accident. Opening the door, all traces of hope drained from his face.

“Oh, no,” he whispered to the O.R. A draft flew into his face, as if the air conditioning agreed with him. You were bloody and broken, that was for sure, but it was you. You most likely wouldn’t survive the night, surgery or non. He knew what he had to do, but he wasn’t sure whether or not he had the courage to do it. He didn’t want to condemn you to his life, especially if by some miracle, you recovered. So, he donned his work gloves and set to it.

A/N: So, that was P2!! Excuse my reeeeally crappy piece of work! I was SO excited to write it, and my brain decided to fail me just now. I was jumping around A LOT. Feel like it wasn’t as good as the first, but y’all be the judges! As always, REALLY hope you enjoyed this! What do we think? Should the reader survive, and come out as a human? Should she be turned, and join the Cullen family? Or, should R pass on, and join her mother on the other side?? Haha jk. I wouldn’t do that to y’all. I’m not that mean (or am i??). But seriously, tell me what y’all think. But just know, this is an angst/drama series, so whatever you DO choose, get ready for a (un)healthy amount of drama!!!! BUT ANYWAY! Not tryna make this A/N longer that the actual story, so i’ll shut up now. But as always, send me an ask/message if you have a request! I do everything BUT ships! If you need to talk, I’m (usually) here!!! No douchey comments, i’m serious! Be yourself loves! Luv y’all, have a blessed day!!

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

Text

By Your Doorstep (Part 5)

Summary: Sam moves back to town and under Dean’s roof meanwhile the reader learns more about Dean’s hesitancy in certain areas of their relationship...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of accidents, PTSD, past sexual assault, injury

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

_________

Reader’s POV

“Uh…” you said the next morning as you found a strange man in the kitchen. He spun around and you recognized the face. “Sam?”

“Y/N,” he smiled. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” you said. You walked over and he gave you a hug. “You get in town early for Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah, something like that. Dean said he might be out and to just let myself in,” he said. “Sorry, I thought I had the house to myself.”

“It’s fine,” you said, tugging Dean’s shirt down a little, grateful you at least had put a bralette on underneath. “He took my sister to an appointment. They should be back soon.”

“Cool,” he said as you went to make yourself a cup of coffee. “So um, I actually was going to surprise you guys today with some news. Well, you and Tessa.”

“What’s that?” you asked, grabbing your favorite mug.

“I’m moving back to Lawrence,” he said.

“Really? That’s great. He misses you so much,” you said.

“Yeah. Got a job at the big firm downtown. McKluskey & Associates,” he said.

“I heard really good things about them, at least when I worked at Hawthorne I did.”

“Oh Hawthorne is the worst,” said Sam. “They dump paralegals all the time.”

“Yeah. I was one of them. But I’m doing really good at Dean’s office. I just finished my first certification so I get a little pay bump for that,” you said.

“Nice. I know he loves getting to pop in and see you during the day, even for a minute. You’re very cute in scrubs apparently,” chuckled Sam. “I actually was going to talk to you about this but um, I was going to see if I could move in here for a bit while I look for a place. Is that cool with you? It’s totally okay if you’re not. I get it if you and Dean want your own space.”

“I’d love for you to stay, Sam,” you said with a big smile. “I really would like to get to know Dean’s family, his real family.”

“I’d like to know his new family,” he said. You both turned when you heard the front door open, Tessa giggling.

“I don’t believe you old man.”

“I am thirty one you little shit,” laughed Dean. “I so have been skydiving!”

“He definitely has,” said Sam. Dean poked his head out from the foyer and gave you both a big smile. “Hey De.”

“Sammy! You managed to get those days off work early?” asked Dean. He slipped out of his boots and jacket, quickly walking into the kitchen with a bag in his hands. He set it down on the counter and gave his brother a hug, Sam shrugging. “What?”

“Got that new job. Starts next month. I was wondering if I might still be able to crash here with-”

“Of course,” said Dean, quickly looking at you.

“I already told him it was cool,” you said, Tessa slowly walking inside. She set her starbucks cup down on the counter and got out her breakfast burrito. “Tessa this is Sam. You’ve said hi to him once or twice on the phone.”

“Hi,” she said quietly, looking at Dean.

“Sammy would you mind giving us a real quick second alone?” asked Dean.

“No problem,” he said. He excused himself to the bathroom and you got out your breakfast from the bag, Dean giving Tessa a nod. “Go ahead.”

“I want to see a different therapist,” she said. You sat back and looked at Dean. “If that’s okay.”

“What happened today? I know Dean sat in on your session.”

“I didn’t particularly like some of the comments the doctor made,” said Dean. “Tessa’s eighteen, not five. I think she should start going to a doctor for adults. Tessa’s not been happy with him for awhile she mentioned. I have a colleague from my med school days that specializes in young adults.”

“Tessa why didn’t you tell me you don’t like the doctor.”

“Because you say I have to go no matter what,” she shrugged. “I know there were only a few that we could get covered too.”

“I have a new health plan and we’re definitely going to switch you over to somebody different,” you said.

“Dr. Ketch is good. I used to use him when I was around here,” said Sam, walking back inside. “I was gonna call him up myself, try to get a spot in again.”

“I was thinking of Arthur for Tessa actually,” said Dean.

“Why do you go to therapy?” she asked Sam.

“Lots of reasons,” he said. “Pretty sure everyone in this house has so no need to by shy about it.”

“I’ll call Arthur,” said Dean to you. “It’ll be better for her Y/N.”

“You’re the doctor,” you said. You unwrapped your food and started to eat, Dean digging into his own meal while Sam sucked on some kind of green smoothie.

“Are you like a health freak?” said Tessa with a mouthful of food. Sam sipped some more and shrugged. “Good. He won’t touch my ice cream.”

“Oh I love ice cream,” smirked Sam. “I wouldn’t count on it being safe around me.”

“Are you teasing me?” she asked.

“Am I?” said Sam, slurping his smoothie again. Dean rolled his eyes and whacked the back of Sam’s head. “Ow.”

“She’s tougher than you, Sammy. I’m sure you two will harass each other to death,” said Dean while he ate.

“Mhm,” he hummed as Toast ran in through the doggie door. “You have a dog!”

“Yeah. This is Toast,” said Tessa. She leaned down and unclipped his vest, Toast rushing over and sniffing Sam. “That’s Sam. Don’t let him eat my ice cream.”

Toast barked and Sam looked at her.

“His vest isn’t on. You can pet him,” she said.

Ten minutes later Sam was in the backyard with Toast and Tessa, tossing around a ball and smiling like a little kid.

“Well we won’t have to worry about those two getting along I don’t think,” said Dean as you watched out the back window.

“I wasn’t too concerned. I know her sessions are private but what exactly happened today.”

“We talked a bit about how she feels about me being a part of your lives. She does like me, she cares about me even. But she’s still getting to used to sharing you with someone else. Tessa’s doing fine aside from an uptick in nightmares recently. Her doctor was very negative though. He doesn’t help her reframe things. I’m not a therapist but even I can do a much better job than he was. We talked after on the way to get breakfast and I think it’d be better for her to go to someone that helps her progress more, handle things on her own in healthy ways. Tell me to shove it if I crossed a line but it’s my honest opinion.”

“If Tessa thinks she wants to try a new doctor then I am all for it,” you said. “I’m glad you went with her after last night and everything.”

“She’s your sister...but…”

“I know. You watch her back and I’ll watch Sam’s?” you said. He smiled and nodded. “So I was thinking...you know how we were talking about that taking care of you thing last night?”

“Yes?” he said. “What’d you have in mind?”

“I was wondering if I couldn’t give you a little spa night tonight. A nice bath, massage, a fresh pie…”

“Mmm, that does sound nice,” he said. “But that sounds a bit extravagant.”

“Trust me?” you said. He threw his head back but sighed. “Good boy. You’ll love it. I promise.”

“How was your bath?” you asked that night, Dean’s skin all warm and soft as he laid on his belly in a pair of black boxer briefs in the bedroom.

“Nice. My skin feels all smooth. I should use the tub more often,” he hummed.

“You definitely should. I’m gonna give you a back massage now, okay? I’m gonna use a bit of some special lotion with oil in it,” you said.

“Go for it,” he said into his pillow. You straddled his back and squirted some lotion onto your hands, rubbing it in a bit before you put your hands on his back. You worked him slowly for a few minutes, Dean’s muscles tensed more than you realized. After a while he loosened up and you slid your hands to his lower back, Dean tensing once again.

“You okay? I didn’t hurt anything?” you asked.

“I’m okay. Just don’t take off my underwear,” he said.

“I’m not going to. I’m almost done and then I’ll get your feet,” you said. You leaned forward and kissed his cheek, Dean closing his eyes. He was still for the most part, his feet not too bad and his back was all dry by the time you told him he could roll over. He didn’t move though and you figured he was comfortable where he was.

You washed up your hands in the bathroom, whistling as you came out, the bedroom empty.

“Dean…” you said, the back door open. You stepped outside, Dean standing by the railing and looking at the backyard. “Dean it’s cold out.”

“I need a minute,” he said. You went inside, taking a seat on the bed, Dean coming inside a few moments later. He wouldn’t look in your direction and you took his hand when he crawled back on the bed. “Thank you for the massage. It felt very nice.”

“You’re welcome.”

He moved his hand away and you looked across the room.

Only to have a pair of boxer briefs be dropped in your lap. You turned your head and Dean was laying back on the bed, naked, his face red.

“Dean, what-”

“I’m not going to get over this if I don’t try and I don’t want to be scared of you so...there,” he said. You smiled and laid back, bringing your head over close to his.

“Want me to get naked too?” you asked.

“No. I uh, think he’ll get excited down there and I’m not...ready for that,” he said.

“Okay,” you said, cuddling as close as you dared. You laid an arm over his waist and he eased, his fingers toying with your hair. “Proud of you.”

“You don’t even know what happened.”

“No but somebody hurt you so I know this is hard for you and I’m proud of you for facing your fears.”

“It’s not as bad as you think,” he said. “It was just...judgement free zone?”

“Always,” you said.

“I got stupid. I’d had a little too much. I let...I let the chick I was with tie my hands together, to the headboard at the motel we’d stumbled into. I shouldn’t have done that with a stranger. It was fun at first and everything and then I mentioned...fuck it, I said sometimes I like when a girl sticks a finger up there, like the tip when I’m getting a blowjob and it can feel good, you know?”

“I’ve met guys that like that. Nothing wrong with that,” you said, kissing his arm. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes.

“I told her a tip of a finger. At most.”

“What happened?”

“She stuck a whole lot more than a tip in. Without prep. She didn’t care that I told her to stop. She did what she wanted after that and I was so freaked out and it hurt that I just...laid there until she was done and untied me and I never saw her again.”

“She assaulted you.”

“I did ask her to do it.”

“You asked for a tip of a finger, not whatever she did not to mention you said to stop. I don’t blame you one bit for being scared Dean.”

“I’m not scared of you,” he said. You leaned over and kissed his cheek, nuzzling his shoulder. “I’m just not ready for somebody else to touch me like that yet.”

“That is so okay,” you said. “I got you a little present.”

“I don’t need presents,” he said.

“I think you’ll like it. Stay right there,” he said. You got up and walked over to the closet, slipping inside and pulling out a bag. You carried it out to the bedroom, Dean sitting up on the bed.

“I hope you like it,” you said. You gave him the bag and he unwrapped it, smiling as he took out the new onesie and nice boxer briefs. “They’re supposed to be really soft and comfortable.”

“I love it, Y/N,” he said. “I’m gonna wear this thing like all day tomorrow.”

He took out the boxer briefs and tugged them on, smiling to himself.

“Oh wow, these are great. They’re so soft and comfy,” he said. He ran his hand over his thighs and nodded. “I know I’m okay with you. Give me a little more time is all.”

“Take all the time in the world. I don’t like you cause I want to have sex with you. I mean I do want to but it’s not why I want you,” you said as you sat back down.

“Why do you like me?” he asked. You shrugged and he tucked your hair behind your ear. “Cause I helped you guys out?”

“Because you’re kind...and you understand not being ready to be a parent...and you make me smile for the first time in two years. I missed being happy.”

“Me too,” he said. “I am very much down for a cuddle though.”

“That I can certainly do, Winchester.”

“Tessa…” you said as she was pulling on her boots by the front door the next afternoon. “Did you finish your history paper?”

“Yes,” she groaned. She put on her jacket and grabbed her purse. “Can I go? Hailey’s waiting.”

“Home by seven at the latest,” you said. “You have school in the morning.”

“I know,” she said, hooking up Toast into his vest and leash. “Later!”

“Have fun,” you said. She waved and took off with Toast, nearly knocking Sam off his feet as he came inside. “Careful, Tess.”

“Sorry, Sam,” she said, taking off with Toast outside.

“No problem,” he said. You sighed and he chuckled, kicking off his sneakers. “That Tessa’s friend? Expensive car for a high schooler.”

“Hailey’s dad owns a string of car dealerships. Plus her mom’s a doctor so they’re kinda rolling in it,” you said.

“True. I’m in the market for something new myself. You’ll have to give me the name,” said Sam, padding into the kitchen for a drink.

“Anytime. We always got a friends and family discount. Maybe we can sneak that in for you,” you said. “By the way, what happened to Dean? I thought he was working out with you in the garage.”

“I think I went a little too hard for him,” chuckled Sam. “He was laying on the floor last I checked.”

“Try not to kill my boyfriend, Sam,” you said with a smile.

“I’ll do my best,” he said. “I was gonna apartment hunt this afternoon if you’re interested.”

“Why don’t you stay here a little longer?” you asked. “If you want.”

“I don’t want to get in your and Dean’s way. You moved in not long ago yourself. I’m sure you guys want your space.”

“We have a barely eighteen year old living with us that’s gonna be here for a long time. Space isn’t really an issue,” you said. “And that was...we needed to get out of our old house. You’re so not in the way.”

“I’ll hold off for a bit then,” said Sam with a nod. You smiled and went out to the garage, Dean laying on the floor with his eyes shut.

“You alive there?” you said as you squatted down and poked him.

“I am never, never, never, working out with that psychopath again,” he said. He peeled open an eye and you ruffled his sweaty hair.

“Well I think Sam’s gonna stay here for awhile so you may have to suffer some more,” you said.

“Really? Good. I’d like him to stay. I think he was concerned about getting in your guys way though.”

“We can share,” you said, wiping your wet hand on his shirt. “Plus you’re extra hot all sweaty like that.”

“Am I now?” he smirked.

“Yes. Sweat is how you cool off so you must be extra hot. I thought you were a doctor, Dean,” you teased. He rolled his eyes and ran his hand over his face, wiping it on your arm. “Gross!”

“If I had the energy I’d give you a noogie,” he said. He sat up and leaned forward, stretching himself out. “I didn’t realize I was out of shape.”

“You’re really not. Sam’s a skinny little rail and all muscle that’s into running and that high intensity stuff. I bet you can bench press more than Sam any day,” you said.

“Yeah but he’s still pretty healthy. I am a doctor. I ought to practice what I preach.”

“Dean. You’re healthy and hot. I mean, work out with Sam if you want but don’t cause you think you have to, you know?”

“I know,” he said.

“Why don’t you do yoga with me tomorrow?” you asked. “It’s more fun than you think.”

“Sure,” he said as you helped him sit up. “I was thinking maybe once I’m not all sweaty I could…”

You both turned your heads as you heard a dog howling loudly. Your stomach dropped as Dean quickly got to his feet. He walked out of the garage and to the end of the driveway before he took off running.

“Call an ambulance!” he shouted back. You ran inside and looked for your phone, Sam watching you run around.

“Are you-”

“Sam give me your phone!” you shouted back. He took his from his pocket and tossed it at you, before you were rushing out to the garage. You jogged outside and to the end of the driveway, Sam already running down the street along with a few other people that were outside to the two cars that were smashed together a few blocks down.

You sprinted down, the voice on the other end of the phone saying help was already on the way.

“Tessa,” you said as you got up to the accident, Dean sitting with her and Hailey on the side of the road. She was crying hard, Dean holding onto her but he gave you a smile.

“She’s okay. Few bumps,” he said. You became aware of the dog whimpering and turned around, Sam helping get Toast out of the backseat. He was hurt, badly from the looks of it. “Y/N. Take Tessa and I’d call Hailey’s parents too. Tell the paramedics and any doctors she sees about the previous accident, medications, the seizures, all of that, okay?”

“Okay,” you said as you sat and he stood. “Where-”

“I got my own patient,” he said as he took off his shirt. He tossed it to Sam who started using it to put pressure on one of Toast’s injuries. “Sammy, I’ll grab the car.”

The guys headed back towards home, Tessa burrowing her face in your shoulder.

“Toast is gonna die,” she said, wrapping her arms around you.

“Sh,” you said, holding her close. “The boys are gonna do their best to get him help, okay? Don’t worry about it. Hailey, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, holding her wrist with her other hand. “It wasn’t my fault, I swear, Y/N.”

“That’s debatable,” mumbled Tessa. You hugged her and glanced over to the man sitting on the other side of the street, some people over with him.

“It’s okay. We’ll make sure you guys are okay and everything, I promise.”

Dean’s POV

“How’s he doing?” asked Dean as they got stuck in traffic. Toast was still howling and whimpering in Sam’s arms in the backseat when Dean checked his mirrors. “Fuck it.”

“Dean,” said Sam as Dean pulled onto the shoulder and drove up to the light, taking a right on the red and speeding down the road.

“It’s fine. Vet is right around the corner.”

Two Hours Later

“Mr. Winchester,” said the nurse, popping into the waiting room. Dean and Sam both got up and followed him through a pair of doors into the back of the office where a doctor in scrubs was walking out of another room.

“We can’t save the leg,” said the doctor. “It’s shattered, muscle’s been shredded, veins are-”

“Is Toast gonna live though?” asked Dean.

“He should. He is banged up pretty good but no signs of major damage aside from his leg. We’ll amputate and get him on meds. If he does well he can go home tomorrow.”

“That’s great,” said Sam.

“You want to go through with the amputation then?” they asked.

“Of course,” said Dean.

“The bill is going to be around four thousand for the procedure,” the doctor said. She waited and Dean stared at her, blinking slowly.

“I don’t care how much money it is. Fix my dog,” said Dean. The doctor went back inside while Dean got a bill for the service, Sam pursing his lips when Dean returned.

“Y/N’s gonna want to pay that.”

“Y/N ain’t gonna know about it,” said Dean, shoving his wallet back into his pocket.

“Dean.”

“Her sister was just in another car accident, Sam. She’s freaking the fuck out right now I’m sure. Besides, Toast is a living creature. He’s their family and he’s starting to be mine too. Can you imagine if I had to ask my patient’s families if they wanted to go through with life saving treatment cause it’s expensive? I put it on an installment plan. I won’t even notice.”

“Does Y/N’s insurance cover it?”

“Not something like this. If it was your dog I’d be doing the same thing,” said Dean. “Toast is gonna be alright and that’s all that matters so don’t say a word about this to either one of them.”

“Can he still help Tessa? With a leg gone?”

“I don’t know if he’ll meet the legal requirements of a service dog or not after this but that dog loves her. He’s still gonna watch her back, maybe a bit slower now is all. Y/N and Tessa are gonna have to decide if they want to get another one or not. She’s been going close to a year with no seizures though.”

“That’s really good, isn’t it?” asked Sam.

“Yeah. It doesn’t mean she won’t ever have one again but it means she’s doing good. Toast could probably handle things fine on his own, depends on what they’re comfortable with.”

“That kid’s pretty tough.”

“I know she is. She reminds me of you a lot.”

“Y/N reminds me of you. Except nicer,” chuckled Sam.

“I wasn’t your maid. You could pick up after yourself,” said Dean, leaning back in his chair. “They’re miles ahead of where we were.”

“She know we knew her dad?”

“Yeah. She knows he helped but not the extent of things.”

“Ever think it’s funny, you ending up with the her of all people?”

“No actually. Our families seem to fit together is all,” said Dean.

“I can second that,” said Sam, Dean’s stomach rumbling. “I’m gonna go grab some food for us. Call if anything happens.”

“Will do, Sammy.”

Reader’s POV

“Hey,” you said later that night, the guys returning home. Tessa popped up from the couch, rushing over. She teared up when she saw no Toast and Dean shushed her.

“There’s good and bad news. Good news, Toast is gonna pull through,” he said. She sniffled and looked to Sam then back at him. “Bad news...he lost a leg. He won’t be able to be a true service dog anymore.”

“I don’t care. Where is he? When can I-”

“He’s recovering from his surgery. The vet said it’d be a few days before he can come home. Tomorrow night at the earliest,” said Sam. “Maybe we can see him tomorrow after school?”

“Tessa’s staying home tomorrow but we’ll definitely get you over to see him,” you said.

“Good. You need to stay home and rest, Tess,” said Dean.

“The hospital didn’t even take me. I got a few bruises,” she said. Dean crossed his arms and Tessa rolled her eyes. “I wanna go see Toast.”

“Toast is resting and I don’t speak dog but you are the most important thing in his life and I know he wants you to rest too,” said Dean.

“But I’m fine.”

“Come here,” he said. He grabbed her arm and ducked outside, talking to her on the front porch as Sam ran his hand through his hair.

“Which leg?” you asked. “Toast.”

“His front left one. He’s got some stitches on his body. He’ll be okay.”

“She still needs a service dog,” you said.

“We’ll deal with it tomorrow. I’ll keep an close eye on her until we figure something out,” said Sam.

“Don’t know what we’d do without you boys,” you said. You shut your eyes and he gave you a hug. The door opened, Dean and Tessa returning inside. You glanced over to him but he just smiled. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just had a little talk,” said Dean. “Now off to bed and turn off your alarm. No school tomorrow, okay?”

“Night,” she said. She jogged upstairs and you heard her door shut softly, Dean taking a deep breath. He took a seat on the couch and closed his eyes.

“She alright?” you asked, taking a seat next to him.

“Yeah. I just...put things in a different perspective for her. Your perspective. She’s gonna go a little slower for the next few weeks. Toast is gonna need her to look out for him until he gets used to things.”

“I know she didn’t have a concussion or anything and it’s been a while since she’s had a seizure,” you said. He smiled as Sam went to the kitchen, returning with three beers. “Thanks.”

“No problem. They wouldn’t have let you guys come home if she wasn’t cool, right?” asked Sam.

“Let’s just watch her carefully for the time being. She might not need a service dog but she’s only going to get more independent and a year from now she’ll be in college and she’s gonna be on her own more. I told her she’s gotta think about that,” said Dean.

“Is that boyfriend Dean or doctor Dean talking?” you asked.

“It’s I care about my girlfriend’s little sister Dean,” he said. “Trust me. If I had doubts, I’d be calling for her to get a service dog lined up tonight. I think it’s a peace of mind thing right now. She can change her mind later if she wants.”

“It’d give me peace of mind,” you said.

“Yeah but take it from someone who was the younger sibling, let her choose if she wants it or not,” said Sam.

“Alright. Maybe...maybe Toast can get a prosthetic and still go places with her at least,” you said. “Or maybe he’ll be okay on just the three legs. Just slower.”

“I think she’s much more open to that,” said Dean. You nodded and sipped your beer, taking a deep breath. He threw his arm over your shoulder and tucked you into his side, kissing the top of your head. “She’s a tough kid and Toast is a tough dog. They’ll be okay.”

“She deserves a break,” you said.

“You both do. It’ll turn out alright, sweetheart. I promise.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 6 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #doctor!dean #au!dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #doctor!dean x reader

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junova · 4 years ago

Text

↬ 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐭 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

abstract: the one where steve finds your love letters.

pairing: au!steve x fem!reader

word count: 3K+

warnings: cussing, fluff, angst, crying, slight self-deprecation.

[author’s note]: hey guys! i’m really new to the writing scene so kind words are appreciated! srsly just testing my writing style out and wanted to just post something to motivate me to keep writing. hope u like it. <3

also thank u ari for the inspo and that bomb ass album that saved twenty-twenty. now we just need biden to get elected.

ps. don’t forget to vote! <3

Stevie,

First and foremost, I want you to know how proud of you I am. You have become the man you’ve said you become, the one I always knew you would. You have finally seen what the rest of us see.

A good man.

The soul you carry within you shines brighter than I’ve ever seen. Just for that only, I’m thankful for the time we’ve spent together. Maybe one day, I’ll be brave enough to tell you this without hiding behind the comfort of this notebook. She won’t spill my secrets, fortunate for me.

Some days you have no idea how badly I want to tell you. I think it’s on the days I discover a new fleck of green in your eyes or maybe when you show up to class with a cup of coffee for me without request.

More. More. More.

It’s selfish of me, that much I know. More days than not, I would say you give too much of yourself away. Always wanting to appease everyone, you, Steven Rogers, the bridge to making the people around you happier than they walked in. Even when Bucky drags you into his nonsense bullshit, you say yes without hesitation.

I’ve got not a a clue on how you continue on, how you still remain you when you tend to spread yourself so thin. Who watches out for you? Who cares for you? Who loves the almighty, selfless Rogers?

For me, it’s much easier to pretend you carry too much on your plate than to deal with the rejection I would receive from you. You’re just too good, more than I deserve. More than I would be willing to take. I know I couldn’t possibly give you what you deserve but, I hope that one day you might see me differently. You would see me more than the light I’ve painted myself in.

Even though the shade is lovely, I want to be deeper. Deeper into you on a level which only seems unattainable at this point.

A forever friend. To be in your life, just as a friend, is an reward in itself.

But someday I hope you would love me in the same way I do. It’s all a love struck girl could do. Hope for the best, bet be prepared for the downfall.

With much love, your forever friend.

Tearing the page away from the binding of the overfilled notebook, dispensing it in the first empty drawer you could find, you abandoned the feelings as soon as the pen’s ink bleed out dry.

“You know it would just be easier to tell him how you feel.” You peaked up at the sound of her voice, before realizing she was looming over you, watching your write the letter.

Your supposed, secret letter.

“Nat, please. No.” Opening the drawer, she grabbed the letter but was surprised with just how many she found.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve written about him multiple times?” You sank in the soft, plush material of your seat hoping that just maybe it would begin to swallow you whole. Hopefully, fast enough were you wouldn’t have to endure the rest of the conversation. One you had been trying to avoid, for the past three years.

“It’s nothing Nat, just forget it.” Just like a Romanov, she couldn’t leave it alone. Even if she tried it was laced in her blood to see any little thing through.

“You really shouldn’t wait so long. A window might close for you, much sooner than you think.” With a curious eyebrow lifted, you felt your breath leave you.

“What does that supposed to mean?” Steve certainly deserved the best and you knew it was only time for him to figure out you would never be enough for him.

“Peggy Carter.” Peggy.

The one girl of a sea of many who had been enamored by Steve. He never really seemed to spend anytime with the women who vied for his attention, but Peggy was surely different than the rest.

Even if Steve was oblivious when it came to the advances everyone would make on him, he saw Peggy. Considering she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, she intimidated you. God, did she ever.

On numerous occasions she and Steve had gone out, and even though he assured you they were just friends you were starting to believe he was only trying to protect your feelings. As a friend.

He had never cancelled on you once for her and he would tell you if he had started to date someone, just like he had before.

Even though the entire three years you’d known him he only had one serious girlfriend and after eight months, the pair broke up and even now he still didn’t budge on why they broke up.

“Steve can do whatever he wants with her. He’s a single man. He’s gone out with her before and he’ll probably go with her again.” Then Sam was the next to speak up, dismissing the total bullshit spouting from your mouth.

“Can’t you see he doesn’t want to? The damn man follows you around like a goddamn puppy.” Okay, when did he even come in here?

“God, fuck, no he doesn’t. He would have said something by now, he’s had three years and it’s been nothing but radio silence.” With an all knowing smirk, Sam proposed a new concept into question.

“It has been three years. So, have you ever said anything to him?”

Shit. Fuck you, Wilson.

“W-Well, not exactly.” Sam didn’t have to say anything in response. You knew he was right and you hated it.

Your unwillingness still stood for you, there was just no way he actually would reciprocate your feelings.

“Listen, I think it would be really good for the both of you to air everything out. Peggy is sinking her claws in him and it isn’t too long before they get stuck. Just talk to him.” You nodded silently, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever have the courage to.

—

Emptiness.

It’s all you seemed to feel today. Following you around was a dark cloud, looming over you. Wishing you could be anywhere but your own body. Nothing in particular happened to make you deserve the feeling you were granted with. It just so happened to be one of those days.

From the moment you got out of bed — or rather stayed in bed until four in the afternoon, you felt like anything you would have done just didn’t feel enough. The feeling was fleeting, never staying for more than a day or so, but it made the day drag on. Never ending.

Your muscles sore, body aching from the lack of activity your presumed. Or maybe you had built it in your head too.

Thankfully for you, Nat was busy helping Bucky move into his new place the entire day. She asked if you wanted to help, but mentally you didn’t feel you would be useful for anyone. Simply, telling her you would hang back, claiming you had another an essay to write.

Which you did, you weren’t completely lying, but there was more than your sour mood to blame for your dismissal of social interaction.

You hated to be that girl, the one who needed the presence of men. Specifically, the company of one very beautiful, blue eyed one.

His absence in your life the past few weeks felt heavier on you than you thought it would. You knew from Sam’s intel he had been hanging out with Peggy more and more. He said the two of them were getting close, mercifully sparing you the details.

You hated it’s you’d become. A girl so damn struck over a boy who was giving his attention elsewhere. Upset you were though. Before even if he was busy between classes and his internship at the gallery, he would still text to check up on you.

Now, it was nothing but radio silence letting you draw conclusions on your own. Very, very dangerous territory for you to travel to.

Steve and you are just friends. Get. Over. It.

You thought you’d be alone the rest of the Saturday, especially since it was nearly midnight. Figuring Nat was staying over at Bucky’s and Wanda leaving earlier in early hours of the morning to see her boyfriend for the entire weekend.

Then, an incredibly drunk Steve stumbled into your quaint apartment, the thoughtfully sweetness in him blubbering out with the alcohol flooding through his system. It was like he was on overdrive. More than ready to crash at any given moment.

You had enough when Steve started shamelessly raiding your kitchen, but you remained on the couch attempting to maintain some distance between the two of you. He had a history of being incredibly handsy whenever he had bit too much to drink.

Stumbling his way over to you, almost tripping on the rug, until he was basically cuddling up to your side. His arms latched tightly around you, pulling you into him. Not spared a choice, not that you’d want one.

The security of being wrapped up to him wasn’t something you ever grew tired of. You don’t think there would ever be a time you would ever be capable of turning him away.

“I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.” His soft tone, penetrating the tiny resistance you held towards him. “Me too. I was starting to think you disappeared on me, bubba.”

“Never.” His iron grip holding so tight like he was afraid you’d slip right through.

“Is everything alright?” Trying to pull from him, but Steve seemed unable to let you go. You whispered in his ear, caressing his back.

“I think so.”

“Here, let me grab you cup of joe and some water. Okay? I’ll be right back.” Leaving him a kiss on the cheek, before heading him into the kitchen.

If you had been around him recently, perhaps you would be more in tune with how he was feeling. Then the guilt sept in.

“Sweetheart, do you know where the phone charger is? It’s not by the recliner.” You heard him shout, trying to stop your heart from hammering into your stomach.

Just make him some coffee, sober him up, until he crashes.

Steve always seemed to be a lightweight and somehow whenever he did decide to drink he always found himself routing his way into your home. You thought it was simply for accident alone. The bar he frequented at was only a few block from you.

The past few times he would just stumble into your bedroom, immediately passing out in your soft, silky sheet. Now, he seemed to have more pressing matters at hand.

“Check the drawers, Stevie. I think there’s one you left around here somewhere.” You grabbed the filters and the grounds out, brewing the coffee. Soon, with a black cup of coffee and a water bottle in hand you took note of just how quite he was being.

He was never this silent and it was freaking you out.

“Are you sure you’re o-”

Just like that.

Fuck.

Hunched over, practically on his knees, he read over the endless letters you wrote about him. Confessions never meant to be seen by him. You lost track of how many you had written over the past few years once realized how irrevocably in love with him you are.

He didn’t realize you had found him and you were suddenly paralyzed. Unaware of your presence he continued to read through them and his expression was unrecognizable. One you’d never seen from him before, and you didn’t quite know how to react.

No. He wasn’t grimacing nor did he seem to be elated either. He just stood there just like you, afraid what would happen next.

What did this mean for the two of you? Your entire relationship was purely riding on whatever happened next.

Softly, with a gentle hand, he sifted through them all like he was looking for something specifically. Steve let them fall to the hardwood floors as your shaking hands could no longer support the weight of the dainty coffee cup he had actually sculpted himself.

The glass shattering everywhere, several pieces making their way towards him, thankfully not fiercely enough to penetrate his skin.

Truly, you had never been more sorry than when he looked up at you with tears in his eyes. Threatening to spill over. Because of you.

You didn’t have to be told, you already knew.

Carefully, Steve stood up making his way over to you around the shattered mug. Still you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Simply just watching him until he was right in front of you — more silent than you’d ever seen him before.

“Those were about me. Weren’t they?” You nodded having no reason to lie other than to protect yourself from a rejection you been hoping to spare yourself from.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this. Or at all really.” Your resolve dropping instantly when Steve took a step further gripping by your hips, pulling you closer.

“Why not?” He questioned you, again. Almost like he needed a verbal affirmation of every secret he had just read.

Unintentionally, stealing your soul served for him on a silver platter.

“I know how you’d feel about me, Steve. It’s not how I want it to be and it’s okay.” You remove yourself from him, traveling to the other side of the living room. Suddenly, the apartment seemed suffocating with him in it. “I’m fine, Steve.”

Hearing him sigh in frustration only furthered your immense feeling of being a burden to him.

You’re just one more obstacle he has to deal with.

“One of them dated back for over two years ago. Two fucking years.” His harsh tone, piercing through you like a knife.

“I know. I should have told you.” You whispered, wishing you could disappear into any abyss that would take you. Deeply wishing you just didn’t have to endure for the rest of this conversation. Wishing you could have stopped him from opening that stupid drawer. “I tell you everything, but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak about this. Look at how you’re reacting? How could you blame me when every fear I have about this is justified?”

You really should have kept those elsewhere, not your open, public living room.

“Because it’s us. I’m always here for you.” He was still crying through broken words and you didn’t know why. Almost like you had shattered his resolve and his control leaving with it.

“Not lately. You’ve been otherwise occupied.” Suddenly find the plant in the corner of the room. It certainly weren’t trying to distract yourself from the insatiable cerulean eyes.

The breathtaking british woman wasn’t even here and as soon as she was brought up — there was a wall. Seperating, you from whatever was between the two of you.

“This isn’t my fault. You never said anything. How was I supposed to know you feel that way about me?” He tried to make his way towards you but you just stalked off in the other direction. Circling around the living room like a coward.

“It didn’t matter though, did it? You found someone perfect for you regardless of how you feel.” God, you wish he would just leave so you could let the dam break.

“No. You don’t get to do that. Since the moment I met you I only had eyes for you, but you never seemed like you were interested. So, I dropped it. Okay? You never left me a crumb to think you would ever want to be more than just friends.”

“You were my best friend. You still are. No matter how I felt, it could never outweigh the need I have for you to be in my life.” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. Trying to figure out what was next for the both of you. Steve always had to initiate and this time was no different.

“Peggy told me tonight she wants to be exclusive.” His confession washing over you like a ton of bricks. Crushing you.

You really couldn’t have any ill feeling towards her, she was just doing what you lacked the courage and the tenacity to do.

“But I didn’t really know what to do.” He took quiet steps towards you, not wanting to spook you. He voice not no longer held the a warmth of teddy bear, but a man on a mission rather took over.

Steve kept quiet until he had you backed up into a corner, no escape route in vision for you.

“’Cause there’s this other beautiful woman, absolutely breathtaking — and I just I really needed to know how she felt. If I had known before, I never would have gone anywhere else.” His hand caressing your soft, plump lips. Pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb, sending you into a frenzy.

“Then, I just wanted to forget about everything until Sam called me. Three beers deep, when he told me of a drawer filled with letters I should take a look at.” You could feel his breath on you, temple pressed against yours.

“I just need to hear you say it. Just once.” Taking it a step forward, intertwining your finger with his own.

“I love you.” It was all he needed as he sealed his own affirmation with a sweet kiss, inking your lips with all of his love.

#for the love of god let these tags work :/#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #college!steve rogers #au #mcu #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction

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ficforce · 4 years ago

Text

Handle With Care

Shinmon Benimaru x F!Reader

SFW

No set timeline

Established relationship

The weather was particularly hot and on days like this, the Town was quieter during the afternoon. People were content to stay in the shade to drink and talk, even the children were willing to wait for the sun to move a little in the sky to cool things down before they played again. Y/N hummed softly to herself as she continued to knit a new blanket for the Guardhouse’s supply. It was an unfortunate fact that sometimes people’s homes got destroyed when someone turned Infernal but the Hikeshi always did their best to provide for their people.

She looked up when a shadow crossed over her and smiled at the man stood in her light, a bored-looking expression on his face, “You’re in my light, Benimaru.” She pat the space beside her on the raised walkway of her friend’s home and the Captain dropped down beside her, “I was going to come home as soon as I finished this blanket, my friend came back early so I wasn’t stuck babysitting all day.” Y/N watched as Benimaru picked up the corner of the blanket to take a closer look at her handy work, “Were you passing by or looking for me?”

“Looking.” Benimaru next picked up one of her needles and gave a small grunt as he accidentally dropped it onto the ground where it seemed to simply vanish, “…Shit. Sorry, Y/N.” He knew she hated when he messed with her tools, he glanced at her face and her soft sigh felt as bad as being told off, “I’ll make sure to pick some new ones up.”

Shaking her head, she finished off the row and put everything down on her lap, “It’s okay, they were getting a little blunt for needlework.” Benimaru watched her reach to the side and hold up her flask, the outside was cracked and the handle broken, “Could you get me a new one of these?”

He blinked at it in silence; wasn’t that one only a few weeks old?

Then he realised that she probably hadn’t had enough to drink, he’d watched her prepare the tea the previous night so that it would be perfect for icing but it seemed her effort had gone to waste.

“Sure,” it was then his crimson gaze caught sight of the tea stain on her favourite yukata, “Did you drop it all over yourself?”

“I was drinking it and then someone walked into me… it was just an accident.” She didn’t dare tell him that the guy who walked into her called her a klutz and gave her a shove - it wasn’t worth the man being beaten to a pulp over a flask and her clothing.

“Tch, they could have offered to replace it for you” He sat up straighter, “Who was it?” he knew Y/N was too kind to make a fuss; she was always letting things like this slide even when it wasn’t her fault. Benimaru wished she would get mad sometimes, she wasn’t weak in the slightest and nor was she shy. She was just too damn nice.

It meant that, sometimes, she was taken advantage of.

He had hoped that maybe it would stop once they became an official couple but it was just the same. “Benimaru, It’s okay, it was just an accident.” She reached over to stroke his cheek and he huffed, “Did you fix the bar you broke last night? I went and apologised for the mess this morning, the owner was still sweeping up glass.”

“Y/N?!” The man she has walked into rushed to help her up and began apologising for knocking her down, explaining that he had been wrestling with two of the other guys there. “We were just messing - you okay?”

“It wouldn’t have happened if that guy hadn’t have touched you…” She should have been firmer in telling the drunk to get lost but she had asked so nicely the man laughed and grabbed her again. “You’re too forgiving, Y/N. If I didn’t know you could handle it I would worry all the time.” Benimaru leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek, “I’ll get you a new flask whilst I’m out with Konro. The Twins found something suspicious so we’re gonna check it out.”

Once the hottest part of the day was over, Asakusa bloomed back into life and Y/N headed to the butcher to pick up something a little special - the Hikeshi had been working flat out and she figured they deserved a little something. Not all of the Hikeshi lived in the guardhouse; some of them had their own homes and families. They only stayed on the nightshifts, if there was a party or if Benimaru had totalled their house. Most of the time everyone liked to meet in the evening and share a meal; this often included wives, girlfriends and children. Dinner was often loud and fun but it meant the kitchen was always busy during the day.

Removing her shoes at the genkan and stepping up into the main room Y/N walked straight into another body. She let out a surprised yelp and fell backwards onto the floor.

The other laughed, “Not if he’s gotta refer to that cripple, Konro. If you can’t fight then just die, ya know!”

Smiling at the three grown men who looked like scolded kids, she shook her head, “It was an accident, don’t worry about it, okay?” Her elbow throbbed a little but it wasn’t worth mentioning, “I’m going to get changed then help out with dinner. You three make sure you don’t hurt each other.”

“Y/N, you’re too nice! Waka woulda kicked our asses.”

“You can have a free hit, we’re men, we can take it!”

Y/N waved them off, “You’ll have to do far worse than knock me down to get a reaction, boys.” It wasn’t that she wasn’t annoyed or that she didn’t want to knock their heads together - she just didn’t like to lose her temper over small things. Maybe she was too forgiving and maybe she was a bit of a doormat but she had people who liked or loved her to get mad on her behalf.

Placing the shopping down at the doorway of her shared room with Benimaru, Y/N removed her yukata and tossed it into the laundry basket before pulling out a fresh one from the drawers. She liked the colour of this one; she also liked that the twins had picked it especially for her to do chores in. It wasn’t like she had to help out around the Guardhouse but she liked doing it… she couldn’t slack just because her lover was the Captain.

Grabbing the shopping on her way toward the kitchen she hummed quietly to herself, grabbing the sliding door to enter she paused when she heard her name from the other side.

“Do you think she’ll notice?”

Another male voice scoffed at that, “Even if she does she’ll not do anything, she’s such a wet blanket - why’s Shinmon even with her?”

“Maybe she’s just a really good lay?” It was only two voices, surprising as the kitchen should have been busier but she recognised the voices as two of the new recruits. They didn’t know her… they had no right to be talking about her this way.

She had heard it before, people made fun of her, they tried to take advantage of her too but she could usually ignore it. Once she got in there she knew they’d be too cowardly to say it to her face.

“She suits him, Shinmon is pretty pathetic - sure he’s strong but he’s not cut out to lead.”

Y/N’s hands were shaking as anger coiled low in her belly, her usual calm demeanour cracking as they mocked the people she loved most. They could say what they wanted about her but that was her family and she couldn’t just ignore that. “Well, the poison I picked up should be enough to see the Lieutenant and kids off. Just gotta hope if weakens Shinmon enough for us to handle him - then we get the old gang back together and take the town. Fucking Hikeshi think they run the place.”

Her eyes widened as she heard their plan, her mind going blank as she dropped the bag she had been carrying and slid open the door to the kitchen.

x - -

Hinata and Hikage both sneezed at the same time and Hikage complained loudly, “Someone’s talking about us!” Hinata nodded and then they both let out a surprised squeal as the ground shook slightly. Running to Konro, they each grabbed his pant leg and looked up at the smoke rising in the distance.

“An Infernal?” Konro looked at Benimaru whilst placing his hands on the girls, “…The alarm isn’t sounding though.” They were already on their way back from investigating what they had thought was a White Clad hideout but turned out to be a secret club for a bunch of kids playing ‘gangs’.

“Not an infernal.” Benimaru answered and squinted at the sky, “There’s a lot of heat and I didn’t hear any explosions…”

“Y/N!” Konro yelled as he got through the crowd and started shouting orders to have everyone moved back, “You’re gonna hurt someone! The fire is already spreading out of control!” She didn’t seem to be able to hear him and he knew she’d never forgive herself for causing this much destruction, “We’ll fix it, Y/N, just stop!”

Benimaru and Konro seemed to realise at the same moment what was happening and Benimaru called up one of his matoi, “What set her off?”

From above it was easier to see that a large crowd had formed outside the Guardhouse, smoke billowed off the burning blue flag that hung by the entrance and he could see part of the wall of the Guardhouse was blown out into the street.

There were a few Hikeshi trying to stamp out the sea of blue flames before they jumped from house to house and in the middle was Y/N.

Benimaru hopped off the matoi once he was close enough to the ground, standing between her and two cowering men, “Y/N.” He hadn’t seen her like this before, he had heard she could get angry but he had never once witnessed it; the bottom of her yukata was burning from the intensity of her ability and her eyes blazed. The way her face contorted in rage was so different from her usual calm expression, all of her anger was on the men behind him, “Whatever they did I’ll handle it - you need to cool down before you get hurt!”

Her ability had one of the highest temperatures on record, she had burnt him on occasion and Benimaru knew that she could burn out fast, he could see her chest heaving already as her oxygen ran low. “Y/N!”

Benimaru approached her after getting a few of his guys to grab the two battered men Y/N wanted to cremate, he reached for her shoulder and just before he could touch her he felt a sharp pain in his stomach and stumbled back a few feet.

She sent two tendrils of flame towards the men behind Konro, they skirted past Benimaru and Konro to catch the clothing of her targets. They screamed in fear as their clothing burnt and the heat started to break through their resistance, the Hikeshi holding them let go immediately. Her hand raised to deliver the finishing blow - she’d lost her senses. All she wanted was for the two men to vanish, to stop existing so that they could never hurt her family again.

“Enough!” Strong arms wrapped around her, Benimaru’s clothing began to smoke within seconds - her yukata was turning to scraps the longer she used her ability, “Stop,” he said into her ear, “This isn’t you, this isn’t my sweet girl - you gotta stop.” He didn’t want to knock her out but he also didn’t want her getting tephrosis.

He was hugging her too tightly for her to finish her attack and instead she increased the heat around her to force him to let go; the buildings on fire nearby lit up more violently than before. “Let me go! They were going to kill you! They were going to poison your food! They didn’t care that they’d kill Konro and the girls too!”

“And you’re gonna burn down the town to punish two cowards.” He felt her stiffen and then her body relaxed against him, the air around her began to cool rapidly and the fires on the buildings began to shrink. “We’re safe, you kept us safe but this is enough.”

“B-Beni…” The man didn’t say anything as she hid her face in his neck and clutched at his coat, “I’m sorry, I… I just- I can’t lose-!”

“I know,” He murmured. Earlier he had wished she would get angry more often but not like this. Not to the point of destroying property and losing her mind, “It’s done… leave the destroying to me from now on.”

“I’m sorry…” She whispered, “I thought I was better than this.” Y/N really thought she had a handle on her anger; it had been years since she had reacted like this. She had lost her family as a child, her mother had infernalised and killed her father before she could be put to rest. Y/N had been angry afterwards, hating that people could burst into flames, hating that the Hikeshi couldn’t get there in time to save what she had left; when her ability came in she could hardly control it and caused fires whenever she got angry. It had taken nearly killing another family to make her stop and change.

To start forgiving people and letting things slide. “D-did I hurt anyone?”

“No one important.” Benimaru picked her up into his arms and turned his head to catch Konro’s gaze, “They were gonna poison us, I’ll leave them to you, Konro.” The Lieutenant nodded and Benimaru headed inside to look after Y/N.

The twins ran after the couple to help, grabbing Benimaru’s clothing whilst occasionally glancing back, Asakusa didn’t treat traitors well and the hearing how they planned to use poison didn’t go down particularly well. “Konro looks real mad.” Hinata giggled.

“They shouldn’t have made Y/N angry first.”

#fire force #shinmon benimaru #enen no shouboutai #enn enn no shouboutai #reader

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maxinaptak · 4 years ago

Text

(AoT/ SNK) Key to Salvation: Eren X Abused!Reader

WARNING: REFRENCED NON-CON, FORCED DRUG USE

This is a rough one you guys. Proceed with caution.

You groaned as you rubbed the fairly fresh bruise on your shoulder, letting your head fall against the locker in front of you. The bruise on your shoulder wasn’t the only one you had; in fact, you had several more, both new and old, littering your body. You groaned again as you heard your best friend’s voice coming down the hallway. You lifted your head off your locker and pulled your sweater sleeve down your arm more, making sure it covered your bruise and the needle marks.

“________,” Eren called loudly, causing you to cringe lightly at his volume, “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

He stopped next to you and looked at you with such innocent turquoise eyes. Oh, how you loved those innocent eyes. You could never tell Eren about what was going on at home. You just couldn’t.

“I was sick, that’s all,” you lied, faking a smile up at the boy, “Just a little cold. I'm fine now though.”

It almost pained you physically to lie to him, but how could you tell him that you had spent the last three days being given drugs against your will in a dirty basement where dozens of men abused your strung out, limp body while your mother collected their payment.

“Well, I'm glad you’re feeling better!” Eren said, smiling brightly.

You smiled almost sadly and sighed. Eren was your sweet, caring best friend. He had been since you were both in diapers. Fifteen years of friendship and you still couldn’t tell him what was happening; couldn’t tell him that you need help, beg for his help.

“Eren, will you lower your voice? I can hear you all the way down the hallway.” Mikasa, Eren’s adopted sister, said, flicking the brunet in the ear.

“Ow!” He cried, cupping his assaulted ear.

She rolled her eyes and looked at you.

“Are you sure you’re feeling better ________,” Mikasa asked, frowning, “You look more tired than normal.”

You faked another smile and said, “Yep, just fine!”

In all reality, you were going through a nasty withdraw from the clonazepam and oxy your mother normally gave you. This last time, she decided to give you something else to sedate you through your ‘work’, something she injected several times into your veins over the days. You had a feeling that if anyone would notice something was off, it would be Mikasa.

The other girl didn’t look too convinced, but nodded anyway and said, “If you say so. It’s almost time for class to start, so we should get going. You too Eren. If you’re late again, mom will have your ass.”

The tall boy rolled his eyes and hugged you goodbye. You tried your hardest to hide your pained flinch as he squeezed you tightly, but you knew Mikasa had seen it. Once he left, Mikasa set her hard gaze on you again.

“I saw that,” she said, crossing her arms, “What was that about?”

“Ok, so I may have hurt my back trying a new yoga pose yesterday. But I wasn’t gonna tell him that.” You said, jutting your thumb in the direction Eren had left in.

It wasn’t a total lie this time. Your back did hurt, but it sure as hell wasn’t from doing yoga. Your slightly older friend rolled her eyes and turned to head to your first hour class. You quickly ran after her, trying your best not to limp. You reached your AP Psychology class and took your seats. Your teacher had the desks in clusters of six or seven seats and you two got lucky enough to be put with your friends.

“Hey guys.” You said, plopping your book down onto your desk.

Krista, Ymir, Sascha, and Max all smiled back and greeted you both. You made small talk for a few minutes before the bell rang, signaling the start of the school day. You turned your attention to your teacher, Mr. O’Neil, and swallowed hard when you saw what he was writing on the board.

Drug Addiction: The effects, the signs, and withdrawal symptoms.

‘Fuck my life with a cactus….’ You thought, slowly sliding down in your seat a little.

You prayed to whatever god there may be (though you didn’t really believe that there was one anymore) that none of your friends, especially Mikasa, would notice that you were exhibiting some of the signs and symptoms.

You had managed to make it through the class with your teeth clenched and practically sprinted out of the room when it was over. You made it to your economics class in record time and slumped into your seat, letting your head slam down on your desk.

“Damn kid, rough morning?”

You slowly raised your head to look at your student teacher, Levi Ackerman. Apparently, he was a distant cousin to Mikasa, but she didn’t really know him.

“Rough couple of days.” You admitted, voice flat and eyes dull.

The short male regarded you carefully, as he had taken note that you had been absent for the past three days and went to his bag.

“Alright kiddo, I’ve got some dark chocolate and a Red Machine Naked Juice,” he said, placing said items on your desk in front of you, “You look like you’ve been through some shit, and you need these more than I do. Besides, it looks like you’ve lost a shit ton of weight since the semester started.”

Your face flushed bright red. You didn’t think Mr. Ackerman paid that much attention to any of his students, let alone you.

“T-thanks Mr. Ackerman….” You said, opening the chocolate bar and taking a small bite.

“No problem kid.” He said, turning to go back to his desk, but stopping.

He hesitated for a moment before turning back to you and crouching down next to you.

He waited for you to meet his gaze and quietly said, “________, you can come to me if you need to talk or if you need help, ok?”

You stared at him in shock and slowly nodded. You’d never heard him speak like that and it almost freaked you out. He nodded at you and returned to his desk. You let your eyes fall onto your desk and stared at it blankly.

“________?”

You jumped and whipped around to see Eren setting his stuff down on the desk next to you.

“What was that all about?” He asked, discreetly nodding his head in your teacher’s direction.

You swallowed hard and stumbled over your words as you tried to reply.

“N-nothing,” you said, averting your eyes from his, “He was just telling me that I looked like crap and needed to eat something, so he gave me this, that’s all.”

You quickly grabbed the bottle of juice and tried to open it, but struggled. You knew you had been having a bit of a hard time doing normal things, but never had you struggled to open a beverage bottle. You frowned and stopped trying to open the juice.

“Here, I got it,” Eren said, taking the bottle from you and cracking it open easily with his large hands, “I'm kinda shocked he’d be nice enough to give you something, but you should drink this. It’ll help you feel better.”

He carefully put the bottle back into your hand and you weakly smiled at him. You took a long drink from the juice and sighed, satisfied by the taste. Soon the room was full and the bell rang, class starting.

Levi’s eyes scanned over his students as they worked on the small packet he had given them to complete before the end of class. He heard a snore from beside him and looked at the teacher he was supposed to be shadowing, Dot Pixis, and rolled his eyes when he saw him asleep again. How that man became a teacher was beyond him. He heard footsteps approaching his desk and turned his attention forward again.

“Eren and I are finished with the packet.” ________ said, holding out two packets.

“As always, finished before anyone else. The brat is lucky you partner with him every time.” Levi said, shaking his head and reaching out for the papers.

As ________ pulled her hand away, she accidently knocked over the cup of pens and pencils on the desk.

“Shit, sorry Mr. Ackerman. I’ll take care of it.” She said, crouching down quickly.

“It’s fine, kid, don’t worry about it.” He said, looking over the side of his desk at her.

His eyes widened as the left sleeve of her sweater raised up, revealing a bruise vaguely shaped like a handprint and several track marks on her upper forearm. He froze, not knowing what to do as he watched her quickly pick up the scattered writing utensils and put them back into the cup. He swallowed hard and tried to formulate words, say anything to her, but he couldn’t manage it, too shocked. She smiled smally at him before going back to her desk. His eyes followed her and jumped over to Eren, her best friend. If he couldn’t talk to ________ directly, he sure as hell could talk to the brat.

“Jaeger, see me after class.” He said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Eren groaned loudly.

“What the fuck did I do this time?” Eren practically whined.

He dramatically draped himself over where your desks were pushed together, making you breathe out a laugh.

“I don’t know, but this happens at least once a week and you know it.” You said, petting his shoulder length hair.

He sighed deeply and peeked up at you with his beautiful turquoise eyes, pouting. You stared at him and couldn’t help but smile lovingly at him. You’d never told anyone, but you’d been in love with the tall boy since you were eleven and he was twelve. He’d always been there for you, doing everything he could to make you laugh and smile. Usually, he’d drag Armin into his antics too, but it was all in good fun and you all laughed together.

“Your hair’s get long,” you murmured, playing with the little bun that was tied at the base of his skull, “Are you gonna cut it?”

Eren hummed and said, “Nah, I kinda like it like this. What do you think about it? Does it look bad?”

You shook your head and said, “No, I like it. I think it looks really good on you.”

“Then I’m definitely keeping it long.” He said, smiling up at you.

You smiled back and continued to talk to him for the rest of class. When the bell rang, you gathered your things and gave Eren a sympathetic look.

“I’ll see you later Eren. Have fun with Mr. A.” You said, waving.

“Yeah,” he groaned, standing up, “Have fun in anatomy with Armin. Embarrass him for me, would ya?”

“Sure! I’ve got a good dirty joke or two that I haven’t told in front of him yet.” You said, grinning.

Eren sighed and picked up his bag before walking up to Levi’s desk.

“You wanted to see me sir?” He asked, shoulders slumped.

Levi nodded and said, “Yes. What class do you have next?”

Eren was confused but answered, “German. Why?”

“Are you doing well in that class?” Levi asked.

“I’ve been speaking German since I was born basically,” Eren said, still confused as all hell, “My dad’s family lives in Germany, and my grandparents don’t speak English very well. I only took the class so I could get an easy A…. Why do you ask?”

Levi stood from his desk and motioned for Eren to follow him as he said, “I wanted to make sure it wouldn’t be a problem if you missed part of the class. I need to speak to you, but somewhere private.”

Eren was beyond confused now but followed his teacher anyway. The shorter man always seemed rather serious, but this time, he seemed deadly serious about whatever it was. He followed Levi to one of the biology labs and went inside.

“Hanji, I need to borrow your lab for a little bit,” Levi said, addressing one of the other student teachers he was friends with, “I need to speak to Eren alone.”

The crazy science teacher looked up from her notes and said, “Oh! Ok, sure! Just let me know when you’re done!”

She quickly left the room and closed the door behind her. Levi sat down and motioned for Eren to do the same. The younger boy did, facing his teacher.

“What’s going on Mr. Ackerman?” Eren asked, frowning.

Levi took a deep breath and said, “I need to talk to you about ________.”

Eren’s eyebrows furrowed and he asked, “________? What about her?”

“Something’s going on with her. Has she said anything to you?” He asked.

Eren thought for a moment before shaking his head as he said, “I mean, she said that she had a cold and that’s why she wasn’t at school the last few days. Other than that, no.”

Levi nodded and thought for a moment before he asked, “Eren, you’re her best friend, right?”

The brunet nodded.

“Do you pay close attention to her? The way she looks, the way she acts?”

Eren blinked a few times before shyly nodding his head.

“Then have you noticed that she’s lost quite a bit of weight since the semester started?” Levi asked.

Eren nodded again and said, “I tried to ask her about it once, but she got really upset about it and snapped at me, so I didn’t say anything after that. But I noticed that she was losing more and more weight as the weeks went on. And every few weeks she looks really sick and upset, but she won’t talk to me about it….”

Levi sighed deeply again and said, “Eren, I saw something on her arm today, in class when she was picking up the pens. That’s why I asked you to stay after.”

“What was on her arm?” Eren asked, worried and confused at the same time.

“There was a large bruise that looked like a handprint. And she had several… track marks on her forearm.” Levi said, letting his own shoulders drop in sadness.

“What are track marks?” Eren asked, still confused.

Levi looked up at Eren and said, “Needle marks, Eren. From using drugs.”

Eren’s eyes widened.

“Drugs?! No way! ________ would never!” Eren said, denial evident in his voice.

Levi sighed again and said, “Eren I know what track marks look like. It’s no secret that I grew up on the streets. A lot of people I ran with did drugs back then. I know what I saw.”

Eren’s heart dropped into his stomach, knowing that his teacher couldn’t be wrong. He thought back over the months and remembered seeing ________’s forearms and elbow crooks all the time. There were never any needle marks before. Bruises, sure, but ________ was clumsy.

“I-it must be new…,” he said, looking down at his hands, “She’s never had needle marks on her arms before….”

“What about the bruises?” Levi asked.

Eren shrugged and said, “She’s always had a few bruises here and there, ever since we were kids. She’s clumsy as hell, always has been. And she bruises easily because she’s anemic.”

“Has she always been anemic?”

Eren shook his head and said, “No…. It started around the time we started high school. That’s also when she started to look sick and upset every few weeks…. And her weight started fluctuating and her eating habits changed too….”

Eren’s eyebrows furrowed again and he started to get more upset, thinking about how something was wrong with his best friend, the girl he was in love with, and he didn’t even realize, even though he saw everything.

“I should have known something was wrong….” Eren whispered, clenching his fists.

“Eren, it’s not your fault. You guys are kids still. It’s not your job to watch every little detail about her.” Levi said, trying to make the teen feel less guilty.

“But I love her,” Eren almost cried, a desperate look on his face, “I have been watching every detail about her for years! I should have known!”

Eren hung his head and let out a shaky breath, resting his head in his hands. Levi looked at his student sadly. He knew that the boy was in love with ________; it was pretty obvious, at least to him. And he could see that ________ loved him back. It was beyond him why the two hadn’t began dating yet, but that was beside the point at the moment.

“Now you know something’s up with her. Use the information you have now and talk to her.” Levi said, putting a hand on Eren’s shoulder.

The younger male looked up at his teacher and sighed, nodding.

Levi nodded back and said, “Alright. Now come on. I’ll write you a note to excuse you for missing class.”

Eren nodded again and sadly trailed behind his teacher. He got his note and trudged to his German class. He gave the note to Herr Ham and took his seat in the back of the classroom, spacing out. It didn’t matter if her paid attention or not. His teacher was horrible and taught in a ridiculous way that confused most students. The only reason he was top of the class was because he’s a native speaker. All he could think about was ________. He would see her again fifth hour for lunch and he didn’t know how he could face her without saying anything. He didn’t want to talk to her in front of their friends. He sighed and rested his head on his arms on his desk.

“For fuck’s sake….” You muttered, sitting back on your legs.

You were currently on your knees in a bathroom stall, retching into the toilet every so often. It didn’t surprise you that this was happening; you were going through oxycodone withdrawal after all. Nausea and vomiting were normal. You’d gone through this a few times before, but never this badly. You wondered if whatever drug your mother gave you the last few days was making it worse this time around.

“Oh god,” you groaned, feeling bile rise in your throat again, “Not again…!”

You heaved into the toilet again, hot tears running down your cheeks. All you had had to eat that day was what Mr. Ackerman had given you during econ, and there was no way any of it still resided in your stomach. All you could taste was stomach acid, your throat burning. You checked the time on your phone and sighed. Fifth period was almost over and you knew Eren would be worried that you weren’t there. You tried to get up and leave a few times, but it was obvious that your body wasn’t done. You shakily unlocked your phone and typed out a choppy text to Eren.

Eren frowned as he arrived at his normal lunch table. Armin and Max were sitting together, holding hands and feeding each other like normal; Mikasa and Annie were sitting across from each other, glaring at each other with an awkward sexual tension between them, like normal; and Jean and Marco were holding hands and eating quietly, like normal. What was not like normal, was the fact that ________ was missing. Eren was always the last one to arrive at the table and ________ was always sitting in one of the two open seats left at the table when he got there.

“Has anyone seen ________?” He asked, sitting down.

Max swallowed a strawberry Armin had fed her and said, “Not since third hour.”

“I saw her heading towards the cafeteria on my way here,” Marco said, frowning slightly, “But then she ran into the bathroom. I haven’t seen her since.”

Eren frowned deeply and stared down at his food. He sighed and ultimately started to pick at his food, eventually shoveling it into his mouth quickly as his dumb teenage body demanded him to. Near the end of the hour, his phone vibrated. He fished it out of his pocket and looked at it. It was a text from ________.

Felt sick, stuck in bathroom. Sorry. See you later.

Eren frowned again and sighed.

“What’s wrong Eren?” Mikasa asked, finally breaking her gaze away from her (not so secret) secret girlfriend.

“________ texted me. She said she was feeling sick and was stuck in the bathroom.” Eren said, shoulders slumping.

Max frowned and said, “I can go check on her if you’re really worried.”

Eren looked up at the red-haired girl gratefully and said, “Yes, please.”

She smiled and nodded. She leaned over to Armin and gave him several quick kisses before getting up and leaving the cafeteria.

“________?”

You jumped as you heard someone call your name. You knew that voice; it was your friend Max.

“M-Max?” You choked out, coughing.

You heard her run to the large stall you were in and try the door.

“________, are you ok? Eren said you were sick and you don’t sound good at all!” She said, voice full of concern.

You weakly moved to open the door to let her in before going back to slumping against the wall. She quickly came in and dropped to her knees in front of you.

“Oh my god, hon, are you ok?” She asked, gently putting her hands on your arms.

You sighed as more tears slipped from your eyes and shook your head as you breathed, “No…. I’ve been throwing up all hour….”

“Oh no, ________...,” Max said, looking at you sadly, “You need to go to the nurse and go home!”

You sighed again and said, “My mom won’t come get me….”

“I’ll take you home. They’ve let me do it for Armin before, and he wasn’t nearly this sick.” Max said, pulling her phone out.

She called Armin and asked for him to come to the bathroom and help. She hung up and pocketed her phone before gently stroking your (h/c) hair.

A minute later the door to the bathroom opened and you heard Armin call out, “Max, ________? Is there anyone else in there or can we come in?”

“It’s just us, come in.” Max called back.

Soon Armin was in the doorway of the stall, Eren behind him. Eren quickly pushed his way past him and gently scooped you up into his arms. Armin grabbed your backpack and followed you out of the bathroom. A security guard saw you being carried out of the bathroom by Eren and Armin following behind and asked what was going on.

“Our friend got really sick and needs to go to the nurse, but she couldn’t walk. I couldn’t carry her on my own, so I asked them to come and help.” Max explained, giving the older man puppy dog eyes.

The security guard was a little flustered by the look she was giving him and he let you guys go. You giggled a little, knowing your friend would use her incredibly seductive puppy dog eyes to get you out of any trouble. Armin may not like it, but you thought it was hilarious. Your little group made its way to the nurse’s office and Max explained the situation to the woman. Taking one look at you, the nurse gave Max permission to drive you home. She called the office and asked for a teacher to escort you out so you wouldn’t get in trouble. You were a little surprised to see Mr. Ackerman walk into the room, concern written all over his usually stoic face.

“I knew you were feeling sick this morning, but I didn’t know it was this bad.” He said, frowning.

You looked down shyly and shrugged your shoulders as best you could in Eren’s arms. Your group, now escorted by your teacher, made its way outside to Max’s car. Eren carefully placed you in the passenger seat and handed you a plastic bag for ‘just in case’. Armin put your bag in the backseat along with Max’s and kissed the girl before she got in. The three males stepped back and your friend pulled out of the parking spot. She drove carefully to your house and parked in your driveway.

“Do you need help inside?” She asked, turning to look at you.

You hesitated, not know if you really wanted to bother her anymore.

“You know what, don’t answer,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt, “I’m helping you to as least the front door.”

She got out of the car and you sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your door opened and Max helped you out of the car. She grabbed your bag from the back. She took your arm and helped you slowly walk to the door. You unlocked it and stepped inside, taking your bag from your friend.

“Thank you.” You said, smiling at your friend.

She smiled back and said, “Anytime. And if you’re not feeling better by Saturday morning, one of us is taking you to the doctor.”

You opened your mouth to say no but you didn’t get a chance.

“No arguments,” Max said, finality in her voice, “If you’re still this sick, you’re going to the doctor.”

You sighed in defeat and said, “Ok. Thanks for today. I’ll see you tomorrow. Hopefully.”

Max smiled at you sadly and nodded before getting back in her car and driving away, heading back to school. You closed the door and dragged your feet towards your room.

“What the fuck are you doing home?”

You silently groaned and turned to look at your mother.

“I got really sick.” You said, rubbing your face tiredly.

“That’s no excuse for you to come home.” The woman said, irritated.

You dully stared at her and said, “I was throwing up every few minutes all of fifth hour. It finally seems to have calmed down but I still feel like shit. My friends took me to the nurse and they made me go home.”

Your mother glared at you and said, “Well why the fuck are you sick anyway?”

You glared back and said, “I don’t know, maybe it’s because I'm going through serious withdrawal from the clonazepam and oxy. It’s been four days since you last shoved oxy down my throat and it’s hitting me hard as fuck this time.”

Your mother rolled her eyes and turned back to her magazine. You shook your head and made you way to your bedroom. You set your bag down by your desk before falling face down on your bed. Luckily, your bed was still sacred and safe. The only man that had ever been in your bed was Eren, and those times were never sexual. Only lazy weekend naps and scrolling through social media together, showing each other things you found funny. You sighed heavily again and wiggled your way under your covers, managing to fall asleep a little faster than normal due to how horrible you felt.

Max pulled back in to her parking spot at school and turned off her car. She sighed and stepped out, shocked to see the three males she’d left fifteen minutes ago standing in the same place.

“You guys waited here this whole time?” She asked, confused.

They nodded and Armin took her hand, leading her back into the school. Eren and Levi slowly trail behind them and spoke quietly.

“Did you get a chance to talk to her?” Levi asked.

Eren shook his head and said, “No…. She got sick before I even saw her….”

Levi nodded and they walked in silence. They’d figure out the best way to talk to her eventually.

You groaned as you rinsed your mouth out for the fourth time that morning. You hadn’t made it to school the day before and you were still sick. It was now Saturday, and you knew your phone would be ringing soon. One of your friends would be taking you to the doctor today, and you were dreading it. As if on cue, your phone began to ring. You sighed and walked into your room to pick it up.

“Hello?” You asked, answering without checking the caller ID.

“________, how are you feeling?” Eren’s voice came through.

“Oh, Eren…,” you said, not expecting him to call this early, “I-I’m… not doing so hot….”

You finally admitted to him that you weren’t alright. You sat on your bed and wrapped your free arm around your stomach.

“You’re still feeling sick?” Eren asked, a frown evident in his voice.

You sighed and answered, “Yeah. Honestly, I'm not feeling any better than I did at school the other day.”

“Alright, I’m taking you to the doctor,” Eren said, sounding like he was getting up, “Get ready, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

You were surprised, but said, “O-ok…! Um, I’ll be ready.”

He hung up with a quick goodbye and you stared down at your phone, blinking owlishly. You sighed again and set it down on your bed so you could get ready. You pulled on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt with your school’s mascot on it. You grabbed the hoodie that you had been wearing to bed, which actually belonged to Eren, and pulled it on, smiling at the way you drowned in the large garment. You pulled on a pair of slip-on boots and grabbed your small backpack purse. You grabbed your phone and made your way downstairs. Your mother was snoring loudly on the couch, an empty bottle of vodka still gripped in her hand that was hanging off the edge, resting on the floor. You rolled your eyes and leaned against the wall next to the window by the front door. A few minutes later, Eren’s beat up old car pulled into your driveway and you slipped out the door, locking it behind you. Eren met you halfway to the car and gently took your hand in one of his and braced your arm with the other, helping you to walk to the car. He opened your door and helped you in, even buckling your seatbelt for you.

“Thank you.” You said, smiling up at him.

He smiled back at you and carefully closed your door before going around the car and getting in the driver’s seat. He backed out of your driveway and took off down the street, heading towards downtown.

“Where are we going anyway,” you asked, biting your lip, “You know I don’t have insurance….”

He grinned over at you and said, “We’re going to my dad’s clinic. He said he’d see you free of charge.”

You smiled hearing that. Grisha Jaeger was a good man. Since your families had known each other since you and Eren were babies, you grew up seeing the man often. He was always kind to you, and you knew he was a good man since he took in Mikasa after her parents died when she and Eren were ten. He was the only father figure you had left since your dad died when you were eight. It was around that time that your mom started drinking and selling sex for money. When you turned fourteen, she realized that she could sell you instead and get even more money without her having to do anything. You sighed lightly as all of these thoughts swirled through your head, making it throb slightly.

“Hey, you good? Need me to roll the window down or something?” Eren asked, looking at you worriedly.

You smiled nervously at him and said, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna throw up in your car. It’s passed for now at least. I was just kinda spacing out, that’s all.”

Eren nodded and said, “I’m glad you feel better now. And you throwing up in my car probably wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s happened in here. I’m pretty sure Jean and Marco fucked in the backseat that time we went camping last summer.”

“Oh my god, seriously?!” You asked, shocked and kind of amused.

Eren nodded and said, “I saw them sneaking back to the campsite from the parking lot and then my car smelled nasty the next morning. And Marco couldn’t look me in the eye for a week.”

You laughed harder than you had laughed in a long time at this, holding your stomach as it cramped lightly.

“Ow…,” you cried, tears of laughter streaming down your face, “It hurts! It’s so funny it hurts!”

You quickly pulled you phone out and dialed Jean’s number.

“Hello?”

“Jean, did you and Marco really fuck in Eren’s car last summer when we went camping?!” You asked, still laughing.

You could hear the horror in his voice as he said, “How did you find out about that?!”

You barked out another laugh and said, “Eren’s known about it since it happened! He saw you guys sneaking back to the campsite that night!”

Jean swore and hung up on you, causing you to laugh even harder. You put your phone back in your purse and leaned back in your seat, your laughter dying down.

“I can’t believe you called him.” Eren chuckled, shaking his head.

“I can’t believe he admitted it to me. Well, in a way.” You said, giggling again.

Eren rolled his eyes and pulled into the empty parking lot of his dad’s clinic.

He must have seen your confused look and said, “The clinic doesn’t open until 11 o’clock. Dad wanted me to bring you in early to make sure there was time to do a thorough exam and run any tests needed before any other patients were here.”

You nodded in understanding and bit your lip nervously. At least one of your secrets was about to come out and you were not ready for that. Your door opened and you jumped slightly, looking up to see Eren shaking his head at you. He leaned down and unbuckled your seatbelt for you. He took your hand and helped you out of the car. You expected him to let go of your hand, but he didn’t. Instead, he held onto your hand tightly and guided you to the back door of the clinic, unlocking it and opening it, leading you in.

“You have a key?” You asked.

He nodded and said, “I sometimes help dad out by coming in before or after hours and help clean and stuff.”

You nodded and looked around hesitantly, not ready for this.

“Dad, we’re here!” He called into the mostly dark clinic.

“Back here, room 3.” His father called back.

Eren lead you down two hallways to the only room with lights on. You saw Dr. Jaeger setting up several different things and you immediately froze. He must have noticed because gave you a gentle smile.

“Relax ________,” he said softly, “Eren told me that you haven’t been to a doctor in quite a while, so I figured we’d just do a full work up.”

You swallowed had and nodded, letting Eren lead you over to the exam table, helping you to sit on it. He smiled at you a little before letting go of your hand, turning to leave the room.

“W-wait…,” you said, reaching out and grabbing his arm, “Stay… please…?”

He blinked at you a few times before looking at his father and asked, “Is it alright if stay dad?”

“As long as she says it’s alright, then yes.” He answered, nodding.

Eren nodded as well and moved to stand next to the exam table. You didn’t look at him or his dad, instead, just staring down at your hands in your lap.

“Alright, let’s start with your height and weight.” Dr. Jaeger said, motioning for you to come over to the scale.

You slipped off the table and went over, letting him measure your height (A/N: anything shorter than 6 foot so you’re shorter than Eren). You couldn’t look at the little screen on the scale where the numbers would pop up, indicating your weight.

“94 lbs,” Dr. Jaeger said, frowning, “________, that’s extremely low.”

You swallowed hard and said, “I know…. I knew my weight was low but I didn’t know it was that low….”

You trudged back to the exam table and climbed back onto it, not meeting the eyes of either Jaeger. The older man came over and grabbed the blood pressure cuff.

“Can you take your sweater off please?” Dr. Jaeger asked.

You took a shuddering deep breath and slowly pulled off your hoodie. You shyly offered the doctor you left arm, looking anywhere but him. The room was silent as you felt both males staring at you.

“________, I’m going to ask you some questions, and I need you to be completely honest with me, do you understand?” Dr. Jaeger asked.

You nodded, pulling your arm back, wrapping both your arms around your body.

“Are you taking drugs?” He asked.

“Not willingly….” You answered quietly.

“Someone’s making you take them?”

You nodded again.

“Who?”

You swallowed hard and said, “My mom….”

You felt Eren’s eyes boring into the side of your head but you refused to look at him.

“What is she giving you?” Dr asked.

“Normally she gives me clonazepam and oxy when I… have to work…. But last time she injected me with something instead. I don’t know what it was though….” You said, bringing one hand up to bite on your nails.

Dr. Jaeger was quiet for a moment before he asked, “What kind of work do you do?”

You squeezed your eyes closed tightly and said, “Sex work….”

“What?!” Eren cried, making you cringe.

“Eren, calm down,” Grisha said, “Freaking out right now isn’t going to help her at all.”

“S-sorry….” Eren stuttered, gently taking your hand.

“Does your mother force you to do this work?” Dr asked.

You nodded and said, “Yes…. When my dad died, she couldn’t pay the bills anymore and started selling herself. When I turned fourteen, she realized that if she sold me, she could make twice the money without having to do anything herself. I struggled and fought at first, and she would always get mad and say that I was too loud and that we’d get caught. So, she started drugging me to get through the meetings. It started out with just the clonazepam, but somewhere along the way she added the oxy.

“It was only once every few weeks at first, but then she started taking me to that place every week. Now it’s at least three nights a week, for… well, I’m actually not sure how long were there for since I’m drugged the whole time…. After she started bringing me every week, my body got dependent on the drugs…. That’s how she controls me now…. I've been going through really bad withdrawal this whole week…. The last time I had either was Sunday night….”

Both Jaegers were quiet for a moment.

Dr. Jaeger sighed heavily and said, “________, because of what your mother has been forcing you to do, I’m going to have to ask you some difficult questions, alright?”

You nodded.

“Do you know how many men have… been with you?” He asked, sounding like he didn’t want to be asking you these questions, just as much as you didn’t want to be asked them.

“I’m not sure…. I’m drugged every time now…. But if I had to guess… probably at least 300, maybe 350….” You said, rubbing your arm in shame.

Another sigh came from the doctor and you could hear Eren breathing heavily.

“Do you know if protection was used?”

You sighed and said, “Mom never put me on birth control and from the number of times I woke up to… fluids dripping down my thighs I assume not.”

Sighs were heard from both males in the room and you finally looked up. Dr. Jaeger looked conflicted and Eren looked so sad and so angry at the same time.

“I’m sorry I never told you Eren,” you said, hesitantly gripping his sleeve, “I was so embarrassed and… I was scared that if anyone found out that I would get in trouble….”

Eren shook his head almost violently and said, “Don’t apologize! It’s not your fault she made you do that! I’m sorry that I never notice anything was going on!”

“It’s alright Eren. I did everything I could to make sure you didn’t know.” You said, shrugging.

You both fell silent and Dr. Jaeger cleared his throat. You turned your attention back to him.

“Given the information you’ve provided me, I’m afraid I need to perform a pelvic exam and take some swabs and samples to make sure you’re not seriously sick.” He said, looking at you apologetically.

You sighed and nodded, figuring this was coming.

You looked at Eren and asked, “Will you stay with me still?”

He looked at you confused and asked, “Are you sure you want me to stay in here while he exams your… you know… girly bits?”

You nodded and said, “I already know it’s gonna be uncomfortable as hell. I've heard these exams can hurt a little, especially if samples need to be taken. It’s also going to be awkward as fuck since it’s your dad and all, so I might as well have some sort of comfort. You can face the wall behind me if it helps.”

He hesitated, but nodded. Dr. Jaeger began to gather all of the instruments and things he needed for the exam while you put on the paper gown he gave you. You asked Eren to tie it for you and her did. Once it was tied, you slipped off your leggings and panties without him seeing anything. To spare both of you any extra embarrassment, you folded your panties inside your leggings so he didn’t see them.

“Lay back and place your feet into the stirrups, then slide your bottom towards the end of the table.” Dr. Jaeger said, sitting on the rolling stool.

You did what you were told and held your hand out to Eren, who was facing the wall behind you, but could still see you. He took your hand and held it tightly. Dr. Jaeger started to examine you and you breathed deeply, closing your eyes. You could feel your face heat up in embarrassment and couldn’t bring yourself to look at Eren, even as he squeezed your hand reassuringly. Once you felt the speculum touch you, you breathed deeply again, anticipating the pain of something entering you. It didn’t hurt while going in, but when it started to open, you whined slightly at the burning pain.

“I apologize ________,” Dr said, “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

You nodded and bit your lip. After what felt like forever, but was only about a minute and a half, the speculum was pulled out of you and you sighed in relief. You sat up and looked at Dr. Jaeger, watching as he collected all of the swabs and samples he had taken.

“I’m going to go process these and we should have the results in about twenty minutes. I’ll also need to take some blood samples to check a few things.” He said, standing.

You nodded and took the towel he handed you. He left the room and Eren turned his back so you could clean yourself up and get dressed again. You did so quickly and tossed the towel into the labeled basket.

“I’m done.” You said, sitting on the table again.

Eren turned back to you and leaned against the exam table, pulling you into a tight, but gentle hug. You hugged him back and buried your face into his neck.

“I love you,” he said, stroking your (h/c) hair, “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long but I was too scared. But after hearing that your own mother was forcing you to do that kind of stuff, I felt like I had to tell you… tell you that someone loved you….”

You teared up a little and said, “I love you too Eren…. But I was so scared to tell you because I thought no one could love me when I’m so used and disgusting….”

“You’re not disgusting,” Eren said, kissing your forehead, “You’ve been abused. None of it was your choice or your fault. Nothing could make me stop loving you.”

You looked up at him and he smiled at you. He leaned down and kissed you gently. You kissed him back before resting your head against his chest while he stood between your legs, hugging you. You stayed like that until the door opened again.

“Can I assume that you two finally confessed?” Dr. Jaeger asked, raising an eyebrow.

You giggled quietly and Eren nodded.

He nodded back and said, “Congratulations, and finally. Now, I’m sorry to have to separate you two lovebirds, but I need to take some blood samples.”

You nodded and pulled away from Eren to offer your arm to his father. He tied a rubber strip around your arm and felt for your vein. Once he found it, he skillfully stuck the needle in your arm and collected the blood he needed.

“Eren, hold this here for me.” He said, nodding down to the folded cotton pad he had placed over the needlestick.

Eren’s tanned fingers gently pressed down on the cotton and his father went to dispose of the needle. He came back with a roll of (f/c) coban and wrapped it around your arm. You thanked him and moved back to your embrace with Eren.

“I’ll run these tests and when all the results are back, we’ll go over them. For now, relax.” Grisha said, nodding at you two.

You nodded and rested your head back on Eren’s chest. He rested his chin on top of your head and hummed happily. You talked idly for a little over half an hour before Dr. Jaeger came back in, a dark look on his face.

“I know that look,” Eren said, sounding a little scared, “And nothing good comes after it….”

Grisha sighed and pulled the rolling stool over again, sitting down in front of you.

“Don’t sugarcoat it.” You said, trying to steal your nerves.

“There are a few things that we need to discus,” Dr. Jaeger said, looking down at the clipboard in his hands, “Are you sure you ok with Eren hearing this information?”

You nodded and said, “Yes. He knows everything else now. I’m not going to hide anything from him anymore.”

Dr. Jaeger nodded and said, “Alright. We’ll your anemia has gotten worse, which judging by how low your iron levels are, is probably due to your lack of nutrition. And your extreme weight loss is most likely due to your body’s dependence on the drugs.”

You nodded at his words. You had kind of figured that would be the case, but you were dreading whatever other diagnoses you might get.

“You have a few other vitamin deficiencies and insufficiencies, but that’s to be expected.”

You nodded.

“Unfortunately, I have two more rather serious diagnoses for you.”

You swallowed hard and nodded, holding onto Eren’s hand tightly.

“The lesser of the two is that you have a bacterial infection. It can be taken care of with antibiotics though.” Dr. Jaeger said.

You closed your eyes and sighed sadly.

“It’s an STD… isn’t it…?” You asked, looking at him.

“Yes. You have chlamydia, which, like I said, is treatable,” Dr said, trying to reassure you, “All you have to do is take the antibiotics that I give you and abstain from any sexual activity for a while and you’ll be cured.”

You nodded sadly and asked, “What’s the other bad news?”

Dr. Jaeger fell silent and his face grew dark again. A chill ran down your spine at the look.

“Dad,” Eren said, “What is it?”

The man sighed heavily and said, “________, according to your blood test, you’re somewhere between four and six weeks pregnant….”

The blood drained out of your face and your heart dropped into your stomach. You could see Dr. Jaeger’s lips moving, but all you could hear was a high-pitched ringing. It hadn’t been the withdrawal that was making you so sick…. It was because you were pregnant….

“I think I'm gonna be sick…!” You said, jumping up from the exam table and running to the garbage can that was built into the counter next to the sink.

You hunched over it and heaved roughly, bringing up stomach acid again. Gentle hands gathered your hair away from your face and another hand rubbed your back. You retched a few more times before gasping and coughing.

“Rinse your mouth out dear.” Dr. Jaeger said, turning the water on and grabbing a small cup.

He filled it and handed it to you. You took the water in, swished it around and spit it out in the sink. You coughed a few more times before straightening up, stumbling slightly. Eren quickly steadied you and brought you into his chest. Tears flooded your eyes and you began to sob.

“What am I going to do…?!” You cried, grabbing onto Eren’s shirt tightly.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, hugging you tightly, “We’ll get through this. I swear…!”

You spent a while crying into your boyfriend’s chest before you were able to calm down.

“Eren, I want you to take ________ to our house,” Grisha said, taking his phone out, “I’ll call your mother and explain what’s going on. She’ll know how to help.”

Eren nodded and lead you out of the clinic and back to his car. He got you in and quickly drove to his house. He helped you out of the car and to the front door where his mother met you.

“Oh ________, darling.” She cooed, pulling you into a hug.

You started to cry again and she slowly brought you to the couch. She lowered you both down and stroked your hair. Eren came and sat on your other side and rested his hand on your knee, letting you know he was there. You managed to calm down quicker this time and pulled out of Carla’s loving embrace.

You sniffled and said, “Did Papa call you yet?”

Carla smiled lightly at the name you had called Grisha since your father died and nodded.

“I have a plan.” She said, petting your hair.

You nodded and Eren asked, “What is it?”

“There are obviously a few things that we need to address, but the first one is ________’s mother. We need to get the police involved.” Carla said.

You sighed. You were afraid she was going to say that.

“I know you don’t want to ________, but we have to,” Carla said, petting your hair gently, “But don’t worry, we’ll be with you the whole way.”

You nodded and asked, “What do we do after that?”

“We get you in a rehab program to get your body to not be dependent on the drugs anymore.” She answered.

You nodded again and looked down at your hands.

“What about… the baby…?” Eren asked, hesitant.

You peeked up at Carla through your lashes, curious to see her reaction.

She smiled a little sadly and said, “It’s still early on. We need to take care of those two things first, and then we’ll turn our attention to that. Oh, and we need to get that infection cleared up! That’s really priority number 1. Well, 1A, since we can do that and the police at the same time.”

You giggled a little at her, causing her to smile at you.

“Mom, can ________ stay with us from now on?” Eren asked.

“Of course! We’re getting that bitch thrown in jail so she needs somewhere to live. And this is the safest place for her.” Carla said.

You and Eren looked at the woman in shock.

“Mom!” Eren exclaimed, wide-eyed.

She looked at you two and asked, “What?”

“You never swear,” you giggled, “At least, not like that!”

The woman shrugged and said, “I’m just calling it like I see it.”

You giggled again and nodded.

“My mom should be out doing god knows what right now, so we should probably go get my stuff.” You said, looking to Eren.

He nodded and you stood, say goodbye to your new mother and going to the car. It didn’t take long to reach your house and you sighed in relief when you saw that your mother’s car was indeed gone. You quickly went inside and to your room. You went to your closet and reached for the large duffle bag that was on the top shelf, but couldn’t reach it.

“Need some help there?” Eren asked, coming up behind you and putting a hand on your waist.

“Yes please.” You said, tilting your head back so you could look up at him.

He smiled down at you and gave you a quick kiss before grabbing the bag. He placed it on your bed and helped you shove your small wardrobe into it. You didn’t have a lot of stuff, since you didn’t see any of the money you made from ‘working’, so your belongings were few and far between and all fit into your duffle and backpack. Shoving the last item into your bag, a photo of you and Eren from when you were kids, you froze as you heard the front door slam shut.

“________, are you back? Whose piece of shit car is that?” Your mother yelled, sounding mostly sober.

You took a deep, shuddering breath and felt Eren wrap his arms around you.

“We’ll make something up and get out of here quickly, I swear.” He whispered, kissing your forehead.

You nodded and took another deep breath before steeling your nerves and walking downstairs.

“There you are,” your mother said, her drawn on eyebrows pinching together when she saw you, “What the fuck is all this?”

Your mind blanked and you started to panic slightly, looking to Eren for help.

“Max asked to barrow some stuff from ________ for a project and since we were all planning on hanging out today, I just decided to drive her.” Eren said, forcing a smile.

Your mother eyed you both for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Whatever. As long as your back in time for our plans tonight.” She said, staring you down.

A chill ran down your spine and squeezed out “Yes ma’am….”

She nodded again and waved her hand dismissively as she walked towards the kitchen. You quickly ran out the door and Eren threw your bags into the back seat. You got in the car and Eren sped the whole way back to his house. Once there, he put your things in his room and you sat down with his mother again.

“So, you’re supposed to work tonight?” She asked, pulling out her phone.

You nodded and watched as she dialed a number.

“Hannes, hi, it’s Carla,” she said, tilting her head a little, “Listen, Grisha and I need a favor.”

She listened for a moment before humming.

“Great,” Carla said, smiling, “You remember Eren’s friend ________, right? Well, turns out her mother is a horrid bitch and has been forcing ________ into sex work for the past few years. She was so scared that she wasn’t able to tell us anything before today when she saw Grisha for an exam. The bitch has also been forcing ________ to take drugs. Is there any way to set her up tonight to get her arrested?”

She listened again and you could faintly hear someone talking on the other end of the line, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Wonderful. We’ll come by the station when Grisha gets home. Thanks.”

The woman hung up and looked at you with a smile.

“That hag should be in jail tonight.” She said, a sly smirk on her lips.

You were still a little shocked to see this side of Eren’s mother, but you kind of liked it. You smiled yourself and hugged your new mom, thanking her.

“What do we do after she’s arrested?” Eren asked.

“Well, first, since ________ is still 17, your father and I will have to take care of whatever legal paperwork needs to be done to become her guardians. Then, rehab.” Carla said, stroking your hair.

You nodded and reached out for Eren’s hand. He laced his fingers with yours and brought your hand up, kissing it lovingly. You ended up cuddling up with Eren on the couch watching tv with his mother while waiting for your father to get home. Once he arrived, you all got into his car and drove to the police station.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding as you watched a cop handcuff your mother.

“You little bitch! How dare you do this to me! I’ll make you regret it!!” She screeched, fighting against the cop.

You huffed out a breath and turned away from her, searching for Eren. You spotted him quickly and made your way to him. He hugged you and kissed your forehead. The next step now was rehab. It turns out that your new mom had a friend that ran a really nice rehab facility. And you didn’t have to pay for a thing, since the courts had decided that your biological mother owed you sever hundred thousand dollars for all of the trauma and damages she caused. You kept up with your school work while in rehab, but a little over two weeks into the program, you ended up in the hospital. They called Carla and your family quickly raced over.

“________,” Eren cried, bursting into you room, “Are you ok?! What happened?!”

You smiled tiredly at him and reached out for his hand. He quickly came to your side and held your hand with both of his.

“I miscarried.” You said simply.

Eren’s eyes widened at the news, and he didn’t know how to react, not knowing how you felt.

“How do you feel about the situation?” Your mom asked, sitting next to you on your bed and petting your head.

You smiled sadly and said, “I’m a little sad but, it’s best that this happened. I’m not ready for a baby and I honestly don’t know how I would have handled having a child from that situation. So, I'm ok.”

Eren frowned and said, “You don’t look like you’re ok.”

You laughed lightly and said, “I meant mentally and emotionally. Physically I’m tired as fuck and still in pain. Both from rehab and this. But I really am fine. I’ll be better in no time, I promise.”

Eren sighed lightly but nodded. You leaned up and kissed him gently before resting back in your bed.

Two months later, you were back home with Eren and your new family and you would be graduation high school soon. You were clean and sober a little over two months and you had recovered from the miscarriage completely. Your life was normal now, and you couldn’t be any happier with your boyfriend and your new family.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #eren jeager #eren yeager #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader

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