#they can take comfort in each other for flopping this season | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

violetarks · 8 months ago

Text

"i like you, i like you, i like you!"

show: alien stage

characters: till, ivan, luka

summary: in an attempt to make the new season of alien stage even more riveting, the pr team has decided to stage a relationship between you and one of the other contestants. despite it all being for show, can you two really keep it strictly business?

warnings: g/n! reader,, fake dating lmao, till has never seen someone else's back before, LUKA IS 30-YEARS-OLD????, you two share a room in till and ivan's, luka is condescending in his

↣ till

flashing lights from cameras and yells to 'look over here' are tiring to you now. while you were accustomed to it, being a model and all, you found this limelight to be much different. 'alien stage' wasn't like your job. and your guardian seemed far less hesitant to sign away your life than you would've hoped.

you hooked your arm around till's, standing in front of the back drop with 'alien stage' written in patterns on it. your 'boyfriend' was never one for this kind of thing, whereas it was your specialty. putting on a gentle smile and standing still for the audience was all you were made out to be. till couldn't help but squirm beside you, hands in his pockets and his face scrunched up in irritation.

"this freakin' sucks." he grumbles to you as more yells go out to you two and the other contestants.

"we'll be back in our rooms in a few minutes." you retort, not sparing at look at him. you only slide your arm to rest against his hip, pulling him taut against your side.

he squeaks, feeling his face heat up at the touch. but at the empty look in your eyes and the faux smile, he groans, placing his own arm around your shoulders lazily.

a reporter begs you forward, and one of the pr managers nods at you. you sigh softly, leading till towards them. they speak in a different tongue, and the tablet they provide give you real-time translations, showing up in holograms. a camera is shoved into your face and till scoffs, pushing it further from him.

"how long have you two been together for?"

"four months." you respond, brain reading off a script. you look to till, who suddenly looks back at you. your smile is superficial, but you hold his arm with urgency. "isn't that right?"

"yeah." he replies shortly.

"how have you been encouraging each other for this season?"

"we practice every day together." you say, tilting your head a little. your signature smile earns some more camera flashes. till can barely see, making his cover his vision with a hiss.

"any fear that you two might be facing each other?"

you freeze up for a moment, swallowing your nerves. you're running through every line possible, what was the answer? did you remember what you needed to say? why were you now drawing a blank? "well, thats—"

till drags you by your arm, taking you way from the reporter before scoffing out, "not a chance."

the walk down the carpet, behind mizu, sua and ivan, consisted of more flashes and calls. you don't answer them, only walking beside till and grinning at every reporter you see. this brand deal with some few names depended on you. meanwhile, till was showing them all his index finger, mouthing curse words at everyone who looked his way.

you have your arm around his waist again, and he wraps his around your shoulder. you look to him for a split second to see him already looking at you.

the doors close behind you two as you enter your shared room. two beds, two bathrooms, pretty much two different bedrooms, just meshed into one. till's one is to the left, and he flops onto it, not even bothering to rid himself of his clothes. you, on the other hand, open your closet.

"thanks." you say, breaking the silence as you unbutton your top.

till lifts his head to see you facing your closet instead of him. the sight of your bare back makes his face the ceiling again, red face. you don't notice, instead continuing to change into comfortable clothes.

"it's nothin'." he retorts, hands behind his head as he rests on his bed. you let out a hum, pulling a shirt over your head to cover your stomach. he finally looks back to you. "you don't get tired of all these questions, or do you just like hearing your own voice?"

he's been like this ever since you were little, teasing you and all. while you entertained him, teasing him back, you grew older and soon lost that part of you when you were adopted into the real world. till would rarely see you after that, only on billboards. it would be a lie to say that one of the few reasons he didn't oppose to joining alien stage is to see you again.

he doesn't know whether you feel the same about him. he can't tell from the way you act with him in public, all clingy and happy, compared to how you are in private. have you always been this distant?

"of course i get tired." you reply, changing into your sweatpants. your head hurts. "but they think it's better if i talk than if you do."

"tch." he clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes as you close your closet door, "whatever..."

you go quiet again, rubbing your face, as you hear till get up from his bed. you continue to get ready for bed and you assume he's going to change his clothes and do the same as he ruffles through his closet. but after a few seconds you come back into the room, he's laying on your bed, resting his head upon your pillow. you look to him as you turn off the bathroom light.

"what? 's cold." he's wearing a tank top and sleeping shorts.

"right." you scoff, shaking your head. you blink at him, slight smile on your lips with upturned brows. he furrows his own brows and pout his lips as he turns to the wall. your stupid face...

you turn off the lights to your shared room, sliding into the bed. you can hear till's breathing and how he swallows his nerves. his back is nearly touching your shoulder. it wasn't a small bed, a queen size, but till was laying right in the middle and you didn't like being right against the edge. you face the ceiling, listening to him.

he doesn't know what to do. he's slept in your bed with you before. it always feels the same; it's always awkward. this is the closest he ever gets to you.

till is more than surprised when he feels your hands snake around his waist, pulling yourself to mold against him. your warm transfers to his back and your legs nudge against his. with your head against his shoulder, he's sure that you can hear his pacing heart.

"are you still cold?" you question, breath hitting the back of his neck. he shivers in your arms, making you hold him a little more taut against him. "i, uh... i don't want you to get sick."

"n—no." he stammers, breathing heavier. he's staring into the faded outline of the bedside table with your lamp and your headphones, trying to calm his heart. "thank you. you feel nice."

"really?" you hum out, hair tickling his neck. your lips brush against his skin at how close you are to him.

he shivers again and he mutters out, "sh—shut up! go to sleep!"

you go quiet after that, and till almost believes you listened to him. but your sudden movement to sit up behind him makes him turn his head to face you. except he catches the outline of your face, leaning close to his own. he has no time to react before you're pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

he's still, unable to move at how close you are to him. your chest is pressed against his, hand on the other side of the bed. till holds his breath, eyes wide as you barely kiss him.

when you pull away, he's staring at your figure. he doesn't know how you really feel, but maybe it's similar to how he does. before you can say anything, till's arms are wrapping around your neck and pulling you down.

you lay on your side, facing till and he hugs you to his chest. he's on his side as well, nose buried in your hair as he squeezes his eyes shut. due to your position, you can hear his heartbeat pumping as fast as it can. you chuckle, pulling your arms around him and feeling him shiver.

you chuckle, hugging him again, "goodnight, till."

"night, y/n." he sighs out. you were too much.

↣ ivan

"another photoshoot?" you sigh, looking away from the city-scape in your window. ivan, with his arms crossed against the wall, nods his head. you roll your eyes, eyes to the window again. "i'm not going."

"there's no debate." he retorts, shaking his head. he lifts himself from his position, moving to the clothes set on your separate beds. unzipping the bag, he sees the dark red material inside. this was just for the public view, not for the shoot itself. still, it was so... 'out there'.

you look at him, knit brows. "are you being serious?"

"you better hurry, we have to be at makeup in thirty minutes." he tells you, unbuttoning his collared shirt, "you don't want them to drag you out, do you?"

you click your tongue, getting up from your chair and marching towards your bed. ivan followed your movements with his eyes, turning to see you still annoyed as you roughly open the clothes. "stupid brand deals... why are you so freakin' popular, ivan?"

he sighs at your question, looking at you with pointed eyes, "you always complain."

you glare back at him before you both turn around and start changing. it's not long before you're ready and you have to be escorted by the guards to your photoshoot with some new designer brand. the ride down in the glass elevator shows you the crowd outside waiting for your arrival. the guards in front of you shield you from the flashes as soon as you land on your floor and walk outside.

ivan holds his head up high, showing a soft smile and waves at the fans and paparazzi. he wasn't afraid of the fame, it was just a product of how hard work. glancing down at you, he sees how you glare at the floor, clutching at the fabric around your wrist.

he internally groans, slipping a hand through yours and tugging you to stand closer to him. you make a small noise, bumping shoulders with him. "just relax." he whispers to you, giving you a smile that makes you feel a bit belittled, "we'll be in our ride soon. smile."

you glare at him a little before squeezing his hand, turning to the cameras and giving your most comfortable smile possible right now. with both you and ivan showing off your faces, the flashes doubled. it blinds you, and you're almost thankful for the car taking you to your photoshoot as it separates you from the public.

"ugh." you grunt, rubbing your eyes after dropping ivan's hand, "i'm gonna' lose my sight. i'm... i'm actually crying from how bright their lights are."

he glances at you, leaning his arm against the window. you were literally tearing up from the bright lights. ivan raises a brow before reaching forward towards you with his free hand.

"you're fine, stop whining." he huffs, brushing your tears with his thumb. he begs you to look at him, fingers guiding your chin to face him. you drop your own hands from your face, showing your irritated face. "don't look at me like that."

"i'm not doing anything." you claim with the same expression, letting him hold your face in his hand now. he was somewhat warm, even with the gloves he was wearing.

"right." he hums to you, bringing you closer. you let out a scoff as you shift closer to him, one hand grasping at his wrist and the other pressed against the cushion of the seat. your loose hold on him doesn’t do much.

ivan can feel your cheeks heat up under his touch, but your annoyed look stays. “don’t ruin your pretty face like that.”

you blink at him before pulling away, clicking your tongue, “shut your mouth.”

he watches as you face the window, crossed arms. it was cute how you played this act no matter what. ivan knows when people like him, it’s a skill he had acquired from being so popular. and he knows that you don’t hate him.

when getting into the photoshoot, ivan walks in front of you, having been here a thousand times before. the other individuals of all different space races stop to stare at you. ivan’s partner. you’ve never had a photoshoot done before.

you hold into the edge of ivan’s sleeve, walking close with him. you look around at everyone, accidentally bumping into ivan’s back for the lack of attention you were paying. he’s talking to who is probably the director, explaining to him what was going to happen. you understand very little, but you hear your name and suddenly feel another hand on your elbow.

“ivan.” you mutter out, now clutching onto his hand tightly. he looks back to you and the stylist asking you to come along. you look scared, not wanting to go alone.

he talks to the director for a moment before nodding at you. “let’s go. we have an hour before the shoot begins.” he says, holding your hand gently and leading you to the change rooms.

you are given your outfit not long after, the stylist setting up a divider so you can have privacy. ivan sits on the sofa on the other side, leg over his knee and an arm resting on the back of the couch as he waits for you.

when he hears you stop shuffling around, he listens closely. “ivan…?” you call quietly.

“i’m here.” he retorts. he watches as you step out from the divider and show your outfit. it fit you nicely, you looked breath-taking, yet you stand there nervously. he stands, clearing his throat and walking over to you. he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. he finds himself staring. “it looks good.”

you look at yourself in the mirror. “i don’t know.”

he stands behind you, peering at your expression in the mirror. “you look amazing.”

you stare at him for a moment before you sigh, “okay. you can go ahead—“

ivan presses a kiss to your cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling away slowly. he doesn't know what came over him, he's never acted out like this. but you were just so captivating in that moment, how could he not kiss you?

you seem just surprised as he feels. you turn to face him, palm resting against where he kissed you.

“ivan—!” you mumble out, your face unbearably hot. he smiles a little before the stylist and makeup artist come in.

they talk with ivan for a moment before handing him his outfit and gesturing to the divider. he gives you a nod before you are whisked away to a joint room, where your makeup would be done.

your eyes never leave ivan, not until he goes behind the divider. and now you have to sit and get your makeup done while your mind is running.

↣ luka

he loves the attention he got on stage. the way his singing was appreciated was like nothing he had ever gotten. the press was always on luka, being a past alien stage winner. and since you were assigned as his partner, that meant all eyes were on you too.

you knew who he was, he was all over the billboards and the tv back at home. you were surprised when you saw him in real life, and even more-so when you found out that you were going to be his 'partner' in order to up the popularity in alien stage's new season.

sure, you had your fair share of popularity as well, but did that really make you the best candidate for this task? at first you were afraid of messing it up, but now? you wish they would fire you.

"singing is everything, y/n." luka says to you, watching as you put the mic back on its stand.

the stadium is nearly empty, which is perfect for you and luka as it was time for the both of you to practice and the stage was the best place. however, you despised the camera crew that had to come along. luka was in the middle of filming this documentary based off the behind the scenes of his shows. since alien stage was his most recent, and you happened to have struck a deal with the producers, that meant you were also going to be in this.

you glance at the camera as it zooms in on luka, sitting in the chair directly in front of the stage. he continues on, "you need to practice those runs, sweet thing. we don't want to be pitchy, now, do we?"

you want to throw the mic stand at his stupid face. he was so condescending, showing off his fake smile as if to lighten the blow of saying you were 'pitchy'. you click your tongue, masking your irritation with a nod of your head.

"good." he replies, clapping his hand, "now, shall we take it from the top?"

you internally groan at him. he had made you run through the song three times already, and it wasn't dwelling well on you. "why don't you start practicing, luka? my voice is about to give out." you offer, rubbing your throat.

he thinks for a moment before looking to the camera. "i suppose i can show off a little now." he sends a wink, as if to swoon anyone watching. you roll your eyes and head off the stage.

the camera pans to the both of you in the single frame. luka hands you your drink bottle, standing from the seat and allowing you to rest on it. as you sit down, you stretch your neck, closing your eyes.

luka reaches a hand around and cradles the back of your head. it's supposed to be comforting, but the feeling of the camera on you makes it the opposite. he has this dazed look in his eyes when he stares at you. a few seconds later, he seems to snap back to reality, opting to lean down and press a kiss to your forehead. "rest up, my star."

you watch as he gets up on the stage, fixing the microphone to his height. luka begins his warm-ups and vocal runs, and the camera suddenly turns to you.

"what do you have to say about luka's singing?" the director asks you.

"he's talented for sure." you respond, opening your drink bottle, "he knows what he's good at and excels at it. luka's got a beautiful singing voice and he uses it very well. like his falsetto, not many male contestants can hit his notes comfortably. he uses that to his advantage."

the camera lingers on you as you turn back to luka, who has started his music up.

it was all from a script, luka had given you clear instructions to say those things. you were hesitant at first, thinking you should be honest, but after seeing how strict it was that luka have a good reputation, you decided it was best just to listen to him. in return, he said he would hold back on the passive-aggressiveness. that seemed like a lie now.

an hour or so later, the others leave, claiming that they had more than enough footage for the day. it was good to leave you two alone to practice, not having to act with the cameras up.

you sit on the edge of the stage, utterly exhausted with your legs dangling on the edge. your drink bottle is beside you, and you gulp the rest of it down. luka stretches his back as he stands up from the chair, letting out a sigh of relief.

"well done, maybe you have a chance of winning this." he claims, walking towards you, "don't worry, just do your best, lovely."

he comes to stand in between your legs, hands on top of both of your knees. you glance at him finally, raising a brow. he was being somewhat nice to you, despite there being no cameras on around you. you give one last look around the stadium. "y'know there's no cameras. you can drop it."

luka grins, tilting his head. "i'm not acting, good-looking. you don't think i'm telling the truth?"

the smile he has on his face tells you the opposite. he has that look on his face when he's playing around or when he's trying to seem like a charmer to the audience. you've seen luka when he's not like this. you've seen him lash out, frustrated and on the brink of tears. and you've seem him in a way that just looks blank. this facade he carries around annoys you to the core, because you know nobody else has seen this side of him. they think he's a prince.

"you never compliment me out of the good of your heart." you reply, glaring at him a little. he raises a brow.

he holds your chin in his hand, bringing you closer to him. with a small grunt, you obey, furrowed brows. "such an adorable thing like you shouldn't be thinking that way." he claims, smiling at how annoyed you are, "i just love seeing you flustered."

you push his hand away from you, closing your eyes. "shut up, luka."

he doesn't reply to you which is odd. opening your eyes again, you see that he looks almost upset at what you say. at the kicked puppy expression, you go to apologise when luka suddenly leans forward, capturing your lips against his own.

you freeze up, blinking in surprise at his actions. you let his hand go and luka rests it against your neck, pulling you closer towards him. you ultimately melt against luka, reaching a hand to his chest and clutching his shirt. you begin to kiss back without thinking. his lips are cold, much like his fingers are, but with your warmth they heat up.

it lasts only a few seconds before he pulls away, letting go of your neck and resting his hand against yours on his chest. he sees your stunned expression and chuckles, "i'm sorry, love, am i too much for you to handle? you look the cutest when you're all confused like this."

you cover your face, all about embarrassed now. "luka...!"

he laughs some more, bringing you closer and cradling you against him as you sit on the stage. you're so humiliated, how could he catch you like that?

regardless, you slip your hands from between the two of you and hug his waist. while luka might play this game for the publicity and his reputation, you couldn't say the same. you hate to admit it, but in this world, it's nice to have someone who holds you like this. even if it is someone like luka.

#till x reader #alien stage till x reader #ivan x reader #alien stage ivan x reader #luka x reader #alien stage luka x reader #alien stage #alien stage x reader

2K notes · View notes

itgetzweird08 · 4 months ago

Text

can i have this dance? k. bakugo x gn!reader

one two three

“Mmm I like the black jacket more”

Katsuki hums softly at your answer as he holds the suit jacket up to his chest. He scoffs, tossing it haphazardly on the bed before flopping down on top of it. He held his phone above his face at arm's length, staring at your face through the screen as you ate your cereal. “This is fucking stupid” he complains softly and you giggle as he moans and groans, chewing your breakfast.

“It’s not stupid Kats, it’s a dance! And technically, it's your first high school dance. If you ask me it’s long overdue.”

That part was true. It was the first formal UA has hosted in the past three years. Usually, there was a dance twice a year: one during the Christmas festival and the other during the spring semester. It was exclusive to students and staff as everyone dressed to the nines and had a good time celebrating the holiday season and the loveliness of spring. Katsuki grew up hearing about it, and sort of looked forward to them. But due to the League and AFO, class 3-A never got to experience one. Until now.

Japan was slowly returning to normal after the events of the war a year prior, and to celebrate the students after all of their hard work and sacrifices, Nezu had finally cleared the spring formal to take place just a few months before graduation. When the class got the news, they were thrilled and even Katsuki had to admit that he was the tiniest bit excited. That was until Mina mentioned that they were all gonna have to find dates- then his balloon popped. He only wanted one person to be his date at any event, and that was you. Unfortunately, you were halfway across the world. This is why as you sat at your breakfast nook munching on Frosted Flakes, Bakugo laid on his comforter in his pajamas in preparation for bed. You called each other almost every day and when one of the first things he told you was the news about the dance, you begged to see his suit options. That’s what led you here, keeping him up two hours past his bedtime as he gave you a little fashion show. But he didn’t mind. He would explode the planet to make you smile, and he valued your opinion. He just wished you were there to give it in person.

“Yeah I guess,” he huffed and sat up, putting his suit back in his closet, turning off his ceiling light, and getting beneath his comforter. “I just don’t see the fucking point in going.” You raised an eyebrow at him and frowned. You knew he was excited, you could tell because of how fast he told you the news when you called. But now he seemed disappointed. “Why not?” You pried softly, trying to get to the root of the problem as he pouted. His room was dark, so you couldn’t see his entire face, but you could hear in the way he spoke that his bottom lip was slightly jutted out in disappointment. “Raccoon eyes was talking about everyone getting dates and shit…and you aren’t here.”

Your heart broke a little and your eyes stung a bit. He wasn’t upset that he had to go to the dance..he was upset that you wouldn’t be there to accompany him. “Oh baby…I’m so sorry” you whispered. All he did was shrug and grumble to himself, which is what he did when he didn’t want to outright tell you he was sad. “You know I would love to be your date Katsuki…I wouldn’t want to be anything more. But I can’t..we both know that.”

While Japan was making leaps and bounds in its recovery, its reputation in the eyes of other countries was still extremely damaged. After the death of Star and Stripe, all travel to Japan was halted indefinitely in your country. Not to mention, due to the aftermath of America’s number one’s death, as a hero student, you had to fight against the villains that tried to take advantage of the gap she left behind. Between the travel ban and your responsibilities, not to mention general travel costs, there was no possible chance you would be able to accompany Katsuki.

“Yeah, I know…just wish I could dance with you, that’s all. Wanna see you all dressed up and shit.”

All you could do was smile sadly at the camera and muster as much hope as you could for the both of you. “Maybe one day…especially since we’re both graduating soon.”

It was silent for a moment, both of you sitting in your own disappointment. You glanced at the clock, seeing the time and knowing that it was way past the time Katsuki usually slept, so he must be exhausted. But before you let him go, you just had to ask.

"Kats...can you even dance?"

His face filled the screen, eyebrows pulled together in offense. "HUH? What the fuck are you talking about?" You couldn't help but smile at him, and the heaviness of the prior conversation lifted off both of your shoulders. "I'm just asking!" " Of course I can dance! The fuck do you take me for??" "Okay prove it!"

Before he could respond, Katsuki yawned and you took that as your cue. You gave him a warm smile, depsite the fact that he was still glaring at you. " You can show me your moves tommorrow-" " m'not showing you shit-' "Tomorrow! I want to see what you got! Now go to bed, I'll text you later. Love you!"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. But seeing how goofy and happy you were made him smile slightly. " Love you too. Talk later."

1K notes · View notes

munson-blurbs · 2 months ago

Note

I don’t know if you do Steve or(I have mostly seen your Eddie work which I love by the way)Eddie

but I’m let you choose but ex reader and (Steve or Eddie) angst to fluffy smut at the end and maybe they saw each other at the bar or something and those feelings turn into sweet ole fluffy smut 🫡 ( PFT I don’t know if that make sense) 😭💀

Eddie exes-to-lovers? I'm in.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, fingering, angst, hurt/comfort, jealousy, the fluffiest smut I've ever written

WC: 3.2k

Divider credit to @saradika-graphics

You hated Eddie Munson.

You hated the way he sloppily cut the sleeves of his Hellfire shirt in an obvious attempt to show off his tattoos.

You hated the way he couldn’t keep a secret, always forgetting that they were supposed to be secrets in the first place. That’s how he’d spoiled your surprise birthday party.

You hated the way he constantly sabotaged his own success. One would think he’d take you up on your offer to do homework together after his first failed senior year; instead, he’d practiced guitar riffs while you pored over your algebra textbook. Needless to say, he didn’t pass that year, either.

You hated Eddie Munson and everything about him.

And right now, you particularly hated the way he sat across the bar, talking to another girl and occasionally taking a sip of his drink.

That used to be you, your fingers laced with his while he told you stories you’d heard one hundred times before. He’d bring your hand to his lips and kiss it, his lips curving into a smile before they even touched your skin.

“I can’t believe you’re mine. Never gonna let you go, y’know that? You’re stuck with me forever.”

That ‘forever’ ended four years ago, when you went off to college and he needed to stay behind to finish high school. Cracks began showing as early as application season, the fracture complete once you decided to go to Northwestern without even considering Hawkins Community.

“I don’t understand why you’d wanna go to that big, fancy school anyway. It’ll just be a bunch of rich preps and douchey frat guys guzzling beers through their assholes.”

You refrained from reminding him that he and Jeff had almost tried that same feat, and probably would have if you didn’t intervene.

“Babe, it’s an amazing school. And I’ll be home on holidays and you can visit whenever you want.”

Even as you’d said it, you knew it wasn’t enough for him. It was a pulled thread in your tight-knit relationship, one that unraveled it throughout the summer. And just one week into your first semester, Eddie had uttered those dreaded words into the phone.

“I don’t think this long-distance thing is gonna work out.”

That was that. The end of you and Eddie.

Now, in that dimly lit bar, you tore your gaze from him and his date. Your drink shook in your trembling hand as you lifted it to your lips.

Robin clocked your uneasiness, her eyes flicking over to where you’d been looking. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered, shaking her head. She glanced at you with nothing but sympathy. “You wanna get outta here?”

You gave your friend a grateful smile, but ultimately declined. “We just got our drinks.” You gestured to her barely-sipped rum and Coke. “We can go once we’re done.”

The two of you forged ahead with a conversation, but you couldn’t help stealing glances at Eddie and his date. Maybe it was the vodka making you more emotional, but tears pricked at your lash line when you saw him lean in and kiss her.

“A-Actually, maybe we should leave.” You were only halfway done with your drink, but the thought of staying and continuing to watch him had you ready to hurl it all up.

Robin nodded, grabbing her purse and closing out the tab. When she turned back to you, she froze.

“What?”

“He’s looking at you.”

And dammit if your heart didn’t flip-flop. You did your best to ignore it, ignore the spark of hope it gave you.

“He’s…” Your words caught in your throat. “C’mon, let’s just go.”

You couldn’t sleep that night. The image of Eddie holding someone else’s hand flashed through your mind every time you closed your eyes. And the way he’d leaned in to kiss her, like he’d done it one thousand times before—it gnawed at you from the inside out.

Tears slid down your cheeks and seeped into your pillowcase. You would have gone to the ends of the Earth to make that relationship work, while Eddie threw in the towel after just one week. You’d called him up in the dorm’s common room, expecting to talk to him about your day.

Instead, you’d gotten dumped via phone call.

You gave up on falling asleep around 4:30 AM. Padding into the kitchen, you brewed yourself a cup of coffee and poured it into your favorite mug. Steam tickled your nose as you took a sip, savoring the cocoa notes and the bitterness you craved that morning. Last night’s events came rushing back as soon as the caffeine hit your bloodstream. Eddie. The girl. The way he looked at her…did he ever look at you that way? It was bizarre seeing it from a different perspective.

The morning air was already humid, summer’s heat seemingly always unrelenting. You stretched out your legs on the steps of your front stoop, letting your muscles unclench as you breathed in a new day.

It was just you, a smattering of chirping birds, and…a car rumbling down the street?

Hawkins was not a busy enough town for people to be driving down your sleepy street at this hour, and it wasn’t garbage day.

From around the corner came a familiar van. Your heart lurched in your chest when it came to a stop in front of your house. No. There was no way. Someone else in town must have the same exact van as him…with the same exact dent in the driver’s side door from when he’d opened it into a tree…

You scrambled to your feet, coffee sloshing over the side of the mug and onto the cement below you.

“Hey, wait!” Eddie called out from his open window. He was dressed in a flannel and jeans, no doubt borrowed from his uncle. Killing the ignition, he hustled over to you before you could get through the door. “I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

Eddie shook his head and blew out a breath. “Look, I just…I wanted to tell you this at the bar, but you ran off–”

“So you came to my house?” You rolled your eyes. “Not creepy at all.”

He ran a hand through his curls. It was then that you noticed the missing rings, the skin slightly paler where they normally wrapped around his fingers. He tracked your gaze and looked at you with a bashful smile.

“Can’t wear them at the plant. I gotta tie my hair back, too.” He slid a ponytail holder off of his wrist and pulled back his frizzy mane, scrunching up his nose. “Always gives me a headache, though.”

You felt your guard slipping with each word he spoke. “It’s probably just too tight.” Without thinking, you gently tugged the rubber band farther from his scalp. “Better?”

“Yeah.” His voice was soft. Tender. Everything you remembered it to be back when things were good. “Please…can we talk?”

Despite your lingering heartbreak–or perhaps because of it–you nodded.

Eddie’s shoulders sagged in premature relief; the difficult part still laid ahead of him. “I didn’t sleep last night. I couldn’t sleep last night. Not after seeing you.” When his hand brushed against yours, you instinctively pulled away.

“No.” You held your ground as best as you could. “No, Eddie. You don’t get to touch me anymore. Especially not when you were the one with another woman.”

“Technically, so were you.” The joke fell flat, and he cleared his throat. “All right, fine. It was a second date with someone I met last week at the Hideout. Not someone I’m committed to.”

“Right. Because if you were committed to her, you’d just break up with her on the phone.”

Eddie reeled back, your retort a sucker-punch right to his gut. He took a few seconds to collect his thoughts before speaking again. “You don’t understand how hard it was for me,” he finally said, “to know you were far away, surrounded by a bunch of smart guys, while I was in my sixth year of high school.”

“I didn’t care about that—”

“But I did!” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest. “God, I could just picture the conversations you’d have with your new friends: ‘Eddie? He doesn’t go here; he’s still in high school. No, he’s not younger than me. He’s actually a year older. He’s just an idiot.’”

A huff escaped your lips. “I’d never say that!” Did he actually think you’d even consider it?

“But you could’ve!” He scraped a tooth against his lower lip. “It would’ve been the truth!”

“Except you’re not an idiot,” you protested. “And throwing yourself a pity party isn’t going to make me feel bad for you.”

You downed what remained of your coffee, now only lukewarm.

“No, I know. I know.” Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and shut his eyes. “This is coming out all wrong. Please, can we just go inside?”

No. The answer sat right on your tongue. And yet you found yourself opening the door and letting him in.

Eddie sat down on the couch, making sure to leave enough space for you. He sighed when you remained standing, but began speaking again nevertheless.

“I’ve thought about you every goddamn day. And I know that’s not enough,” he rushed to add before you could say it yourself, “but I need you to know that I have. I wanted to call you a million times, but I always talked myself out of it. Figured it would just make you angrier.”

“You could’ve at least apologized.” You didn’t bother hiding the hurt in your voice; that façade had long since passed.

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” When he looked at you, his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “I’m sorry I let my insecurities ruin everything. I’m sorry I broke your heart. I’m sorry that I never got to see your dorm room, or meet your new friends, or watch you walk that stage at graduation. I…”

Eddie was fully sobbing on your sofa, wiping his cheeks with calloused palms. “And I’m sorry that I still love you. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to let you go.”

He’d laid it all on the table for you, not hiding a single card in his hand. His gaze was raw with vulnerability; it seared into the hardened ice encasing your heart.

“When I saw you at the bar last night…when I saw you looking at me…” Eddie let out a huff of air. “Maybe I was just getting my hopes up, but it felt like a part of you might still love me, too.”

And as that realization unraveled, as it unfurled like a flower finally blooming after winter’s frost, you found yourself nodding in agreement.

All at once, Eddie stood in front of you. “Please say it,” he whispered, delicately cupping your face in his hands. “I need to hear you say it. Only if you mean it.”

“I still love you.” Your nose grazed his. “I don’t want to, but I do.”

“You don’t want to because I broke your heart?” When you answered in the affirmative, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “What if I promise that I’ll never break your heart again? What if I promise that it’s always been you?”

Your voice was soft, barely audible, when you told him, “Prove it.”

Eddie’s lips found yours, a magnetic pull that hadn’t weakened in the nearly four years you’d spent apart. “Course I’ll prove it,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Spend the rest of my goddamn life proving it.”

His hands slid up underneath your shirt, a ratty old tee reserved strictly for bedtime. There was no time to worry about it being the least sexy article of clothing you had; before you knew it, Eddie tugged it over your head and tossed it aside. He whimpered as he grabbed your breast, circling the nipple with his thumb.

You’d only gotten two of his flannel buttons undone when you stopped. “Eddie, wait—don’t you have to go to work?”

Eddie laughed, his breath tickling your neck over the spot he’d been kissing. “I’ll just have to be late. Got something…more important to attend to.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, the two of you peeling off each other’s clothes until they lay in a heap on the floor. And then there was just you and Eddie, touching everywhere you could.

“Baby.” The word was slurred, given the fact that his tongue was currently occupied with your nipples, your skin shining where his saliva remained. “Baby…fuck, I missed you.”

He was painfully hard, the tip of his cock flush against his tummy and leaking pre-cum. You wrapped your hand around the shaft, pumping him in a painfully slow rhythm.

“Oh—ah!” Eddie hissed, steadying himself at your sudden touch. “F-Fuck, I—y-you can’t…too sensitive.”

You looked at him incredulously. “Already?”

Eddie nodded sheepishly. “You know how much I thought about this? Every time I…y’know…I imagined it was you.”

Just the mental picture of Eddie laying back in his bed, tugging on his cock while moaning your name, had you dragging him to the couch. No time to go all the way to the bedroom.

The moment Eddie climbed on top of you as you lay on the cushions, his fingers drifted down to where you needed him most. His middle finger, then his ring finger, slid inside you with practiced precision. Picking up right where you’d left off.

You clenched around him, your body greedy for more as his fingers moved in and out, in and out.

“Eddie…” Just that one word was an effort; every brain cell focused only on the pleasure building between your thighs. “Eddie…Eddie…please…”

He nodded, his tongue darting out and swiping over his lower lip. “I remembered how much you love my fingers.”

It was true; his fingers were nothing less than magic. He swore it was because he played guitar, and maybe that was part of it, but the real reason was because he had you memorized. Knew exactly where to curl his fingers, exactly how to stroke your sweet spot until your legs were shaking.

“You’re…you’re drenched.” He wasn’t cocky; he was awestruck. Absolutely shocked that you were so needy for him, that you’d missed his touch as much as he’d missed yours. “Gonna take care of you, baby, okay?”

You inhaled a staggered breath and melted into the couch. Eddie held total and complete control over you, and it surprisingly didn’t scare you in the least.

The last thread of restraint snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves. You cried out Eddie’s name. It was him bringing you to a new level of ecstasy. It was him giving you everything you could ever want.

His movements slowed to let you float down from the high. His fingers were slick with your arousal, and he popped them in his mouth with a content sigh.

“Tastes so sweet.”

God, you needed him. Needed him to fill you entirely. Needed him to clear your mind of any thought besides how good he made you feel. Needed him to hold you down and take whatever he desired.

Your gaze dropped down to his erection. Eddie followed your eyes, then looked back at you.

“D-Do you…?” He trailed off before composing himself. “I mean, is it okay if I—”

“Yes.” There was no other possible answer. There was nothing else you could possibly want besides that connection, that intimacy, with the man you could never stop loving. “Please.”

Eddie obliged without hesitation. He angled himself with your entrance, pushing into you so slowly that it teetered on agonizing. You knew it would feel good; it always had, even that first awkward time together. But this was something else entirely.

It was as though a missing puzzle piece clicked into place, unlocking everything you had stowed away over the last four years without him. Tears lazily flowed down your cheeks, but before you had time to be embarrassed, Eddie kissed them away.

“S’okay,” he murmured, continuing to thrust into you with utmost care. “You’re okay, baby.”

You managed a smile as you navigated the influx of emotions. You were okay. You were with Eddie again, safe in his arms, his touch both electrifying and soothing.

All that was left to do was sink into it.

You accepted his love, wrapping yourself in it and savoring every morsel. One of your hands found his cheek, your thumb grazing over the hint of stubble he missed when shaving. His kisses were oxygen itself, breathing life into every cell in your body. Everything was Eddie. Everything was okay again.

And then you started to giggle. It was discreet at first, but then it bubbled over until your smile was too wide to ignore. Eddie couldn’t even kiss you without his lips touching your teeth.

“Babe?” He cocked his head, examining you as laughter floated out of you.

“Sorry.” Another peal of laughter. “I’m…I’m just so happy.”

Eddie grinned, ducking to kiss your neck. “Me, too. Me fucking too, baby.”

There was the ebb and flow, the give and take, the push and pull. You and Eddie, working in tandem to bring the other to their climax.

Your orgasm blossomed deep within you. You dug your fingernails into Eddie’s back and wrapped your legs around his to draw him closer.

“Ed-Eddie, I’m…” Your hips raised to meet his, filling in where your words failed.

Eddie nodded and gently kissed your lips. “I know, sweet girl. Just let go for me.”

And so you did. With a cry of his name, you came. You let yourself unravel right there on the couch, and before long, he was joining you.

“Baby, baby, baby.” He let out a groan as he spilled into you, giving you every last drop. His chest rose and fell as he withdrew and caught his breath, though he kept his hands on you the whole time. Like you might disappear if he let go.

You reached up to smooth back a lock of his hair. You needed to look into his eyes, no obstructions, when you asked him the question weighing heavily on your heart.

“Where do we go from here?”

Eddie flinched, clearly not expecting such a candid remark right after sex. He shook off his shock and replaced it with a smirk.

“I say we shower off first.” His nose brushed yours and he kissed you once again. “And then I’d like to take you to breakfast once the diner opens. I think we have a lot to catch up on.”

You gazed up at him, taking in the chest muscles that had filled out with the addition of manual labor.

A shower and a breakfast date. It was a plan—maybe not like the ones you made, where every moment was perfectly laid out. And it was more than Eddie’s usual fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants demeanor. It was somewhere in the middle. A new equilibrium.

“That sounds perfect.”

#requests #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #smut

564 notes · View notes

puckinghischier · 7 months ago

Text

Suds n Sorrows

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: reader comforting nico after losing the last game of the season

notes: y’all i kinda love this one 🤭. me being a cancer, i’m patiently waiting for the day i can nurture and comfort nico. that’s all. hope you enjoy !!

request: Nico coming home after that last game of the season and obviously he really needs some cheering up from his girl.

(also, i used google translate for any german present in this fic, so if its wrong, oopsies)

[2.9k]

part 2 (18+)

You already felt terrible you were having to miss the last game of the season, but as you watch the clock hit zero on the screen of the tv in front of you, signifying another Devil’s loss, you really wished you could be there. You think about how defeated your boys look, not being able to secure one last win for the fans this season. You watch as they skate to the middle of the ice, thanking their fans with rounded shoulders and sad smiles on their faces.

You curse your professors, hating that their review schedules for finals fell right in the middle of the end of the hockey season. You were supposed to be there tonight, supporting your friends and boyfriend; but a last-minute email from a professor informing you of a mandatory review session, starting only an hour before puck drop, threw your plans out the window.

You pick up your phone to send Nico a quick text, telling him you love him and are proud of him no matter what. You know he won’t see it right away, with post-game interviews and the added responsibility of fan-appreciation activities, he won’t be home for another hour or two at the earliest. You turn the tv off, not wanting to see the dejected looks from the team any longer.

You go to the kitchen and start to busy yourself by making one of Nico’s favorite treats, wanting to give him something to smile about when he gets home. You make plans in your head to either make something or order something to take to the rest of the team tomorrow during their locker cleanout. Once you’ve finished the task at hand and cleaned the kitchen, you make your way back into the living room, figuring Nico will be home any minute.

You were scrolling through Instagram, lost in the comments on the Devil’s most recent post about the fans, when you heard the front door to your apartment open. You sat up, turning your body to face the entry way, watching Nico walk towards you. He dropped his bag as he reached the couch, wordlessly flopping down beside you, throwing his body half on top of yours. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling the comforting scent of your perfume, squeezing your body against his own.

“I’m so proud of you,” is the first thing you said to him, taking the beanie off of his head so you can run your fingers through his hair.

“Nothin’ to be proud of, Schatz. We lost. Didn’t you see?” You feel him mumble against your skin.

“Hey, now. No more pity party, alright? You still went out there and gave it everything you had. I’ll always be proud of you, win or lose,” you scold, hating when he doesn’t give himself credit for all the work he puts in for this team.

“Just wish we could’ve won one last one. For the fans. For the guys. For Jack.”

“How is he, by the way? You heard anything?” You ask about the middle Hughes, knowing how upset Nico was he wouldn’t be finishing the season with the rest of the team.

“Yeah, talked to him before the game. Sore, but good. Already trying to weasel his way back onto the ice, but Ellen has him under house arrest.”

You chuckle, causing Nico’s body to shake with yours, knowing how stubborn Jack can be.

“I swear, if he doesn’t just let himself rest and heal I’ll fly out to Michigan myself to babysit him,” you tell your boyfriend, earning a laugh in response.

The conversation falls silent soon after, the two of you just soaking in each other’s company. You had adjusted your bodies so Nico was fully laying on you now, one hand continuing to play with his hair, the other lightly tracing shapes up and down his back. You worry he’s fallen asleep until you feel him lift his head, resting his chin on your chest so he can look up at your face.

“Wanna talk about it?” You ask him, looking down at his soft, sad eyes.

“Not much to say. We lost. The game, the season, the cup. We just didn’t perform this year. Got a lot to work on going forward,” he shrugs, not meeting your eyes.

“Okay, when I asked if you wanted to talk about it, I didn’t mean give me locker room answers. I meant, do you want to talk about why you’re being so hard on yourself? Why you’re acting like you won’t ever play hockey again? I know how hard this is on you all, especially after the season you guys had last year, but not every year is a stellar year, Neeks. Sometimes you have to have a bad season before you know how to have a great one,” you pushed him off of you slightly, both of you sitting up so you can face each other.

“I know we can’t be great every year, Y/N, but I at least expected us to do as well as we did last year. Coming off of such an explosive season, even though we didn’t win the cup, I figured everyone would show up ready to go, ready to win some games. And then then everyone started getting injured, and the longer the season went on, something shifted. It’s like they gave up before we even got started. It’s like they didn’t even want it anymore!” Nico cries out, letting himself get worked up.

You simply nod, encouraging him to keep going, knowing he needs to get it out of his system.

“I just-“ he hesitates, calming himself from his outburst mere seconds ago. “I worry about who’ll be coming back next season. I like this team. I love these guys like they’re my brothers, and I wanted better for so many of them. Nothing is ever guaranteed in the league, and I just want to keep playing with this team. Tonight could’ve been the last time I ever stepped onto that ice with a few of them.” He continues, emotion so raw on his face you almost want to cry for him.

There it was. The real reason he’s so upset. You knew this was more than just a loss, even if it was a hard one. He hardly ever comes home and just allows the two of you to sit in silence, always going over what they could’ve done better, and what they need to work on in the future. He’s upset about losing his team. Nico always gets so attached to his players, wanting to give every person he plays with the best guidance and outcomes he can. You figure its why they made him captain.

“Oh Neeks,” you start, reaching out to grab his hands. “These guys love you, you know that, right? They want to do their best for you, always. You think they don’t beat themselves up for letting you down?” you pause, wanting your words to truly reach him. “But…you know this is always a possibility. Trades get made, contracts expire. It’s just part of the world you signed up for. I can guarantee you, nearly every one of these guys would come back next year if it was up to them. They love this team just like you do,” you reiterate, having been told this by his teammates more times than you can count. “You gave them everything you could this season. I can assure you, not a single player left that arena tonight thinking of what you could’ve done differently, instead focusing on what they could’ve done differently.”

Nico sat for a second, absorbing your words. He takes his hands from yours to place his head in them, trying to collect his thoughts.

“Wenn es nur so einfach wäre,” you hear the foreign words muffled by the sound of his hands.

“Neeks, you know I’m learning, but I have no clue what you just said,” you chuckle slightly, not knowing if he’s even aware of the language switch.

“I said, if only it was that easy. I know you’re right, I do. But I just can’t make my brain hear the words the way my ears do,” he sighs.

You look at the man in front of you with sad eyes. You wish you could carry some of this burden for him, but you can’t. At the end of the day, you don’t know what it’s like to be the captain of a hockey team. You don’t know the full extent of the pressure not only his coaches place on him, but the team management, as well.

“My sweet, sweet boy,” you coo sadly, reaching out to cup his face, his own sad, brown eyes looking into yours. “Why don’t we just relax for the rest of the night, yeah? I was thinking about a bath earlier, if you wanted to join me? I’ll add some of that bubble bath you like. The one that smells like oranges and raspberries?” You question, deciding you’d talked enough hockey tonight.

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” he agrees, leaning into your touch, letting his eyes flutter shut.

You lean forward to give him a small peck on his forehead before standing and making your way to the bathroom.

You make sure the temperature of the water isn’t too hot, but still wanting it to be warm enough to soothe the ache not only in Nico’s muscles, but the ache in his chest, too. You decide to light a few candles, wanting to make the space as relaxing for him as possible. The bathroom door opens as you’re lighting the last candle, Nico having already discarded most of his clothing, standing before you only in his boxers.

He closes the door behind him, walking fully into the bathroom and leaning against the counter next to you. You set the candle away from anything that could potentially catch fire, and walk over to Nico. You wrap your arms around his torso, resting your cheek against his bare chest.

The two of you stand like that for a few moments, trying to transfer every ounce of love you have for the man through the contact. Eventually he pulls back, placing his hands on your shoulder before cocking an eyebrow, eyes raking down your body at your still fully clothed figure.

“Shouldn’t you have much less clothing on if we’re meant to be taking a bath together, Schatz?” he asks, the teasing in his voice a nice change from earlier.

“Are you trying to get me naked, cap?” you try to act shocked, but you can’t help the amused smile that breaks out on your face.

“Always, Mrs. cap,” he cheekily responds, using his teammates’ nickname for you.

You step back with a giggle, undressing yourself as Nico removes what little clothing he had on. After you walk over to turn the bathroom light off, the two of you step into the steaming tub, settling into a comfortable position. Your back rests against Nico’s chest, head resting on his shoulder, his clasped hands resting on your stomach. He begins tracing shapes on your stomach like you were on his back a few minutes ago, letting the warm water heat your skin and wash the stress of the day away.

“You know, even though I’m sad the season’s over, it does mean I get to spend more time with you now,” Nico breaks the silence, head tilted to rest against yours.

You hum in response, smiling at the thought of no more early morning alarms or late-night interruptions when he gets home from a roadie. You daydream about lazy mornings and breakfast in bed, something the two of you don’t get to indulge in nearly enough. You open your eyes, the thought reminding you of the treat you made Nico before his arrival home, nearly forgetting about the baked good sitting in your kitchen.

“Oh, I almost forgot, I baked you a little something before you got home!” you sat up a bit, water splashing around you.

“You did? What ever for?” Nico asks, eyes widening a bit at your sudden burst of enthusiasm.

“Just because. Knew you had a hard day, wanted to make sure you had something sweet to brighten it up a bit,” you shrugged.

“Not necessary. Not with the promise of getting to come home to you already.”

Your cheeks flush red, never really getting used to the sweet words Nico always throws your way.

“Well, I guess you don’t want any Luzerner….Luzerner…Leb…” You start, but can’t remember how to pronounce the Swiss dessert. You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, aggravated with yourself and your lack of fluency in Swiss-German.

“Luzerner Lebkuchen?” Nico finished for you.

“Yeah…that.” You roll your eyes at his perfect pronunciation.

“You really made it for me? From scratch?”

“Mhmm. Used your mom’s recipe. I hope it turned out. I didn’t want to cut into it to try it before you got home. Wanted to surprise you.”

Nico’s heart swelled at the confession, amazed that you’d go through all of that effort just for him. It wasn’t an easy dish to perfect, by no means. It took his mom years to get her gingerbread cake perfectly moist and flavorful. Regardless of how it tastes, he’ll savor it like it’s the last food on earth, simply because you made it for him.

“Well consider me surprised,” Nico murmurs, leaning in to kiss you.

You love moments like these. Lost in Nico, the two of you in your own little world. No hockey, no schoolwork, no responsibilities. Just two people hopelessly in love with each other, soaking in every ounce of affection the other has to offer.

Nico runs his hand down your back, causing your body to shiver at the contact. He pulls you closer, his other hand coming to tangle itself in your hair, tugging just enough to cause your mouth to open in a gasp, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues fight one another, his winning the struggle for dominance in the end, a groan working its way out of his throat. When he starts to move his hand lower down your back, grabbing the flesh of your ass in the process, you pull back, lips swollen and out of breath.

“Nope. Slow your roll, hot stuff. This was meant to be a relaxing bath, not a sex and suds party,” you push him back by the shoulders, earning a pout from the man across from you.

“But, a sex and suds party sounds pretty relaxing to me. No better way to unwind after a hard day than watching your face as I make you cu-“

“Nope! Not happening right now! Keep it up and it won’t be happening at all tonight,” You warn, turning back around to resume your earlier position, hands resting over his on your stomach to keep them from wandering.

Nico laughs, finding amusement in your commitment to the relaxing bath you promised him. He places a kiss to your temple, deciding to leave it alone for now, knowing he’ll revisit the subject later.

The two of you sit in the warm tub until the water runs cold, talking about anything that crosses your minds. From your upcoming finals to summer destinations you’d love to visit, the security of your bubble filled world allowing no room for hockey talk or stressful situations to infiltrate the delicate space.

After you start shivering, having put up with the cold water for as long as you could, Nico reaches forward to drain the tub, deciding that its time the two of you get out and dry off. You step out of the tub, reaching for the towels you had placed on the closed lid of the toilet seat, grabbing one for yourself before handing one to Nico. The two of you dry off your bodies, no sound other than the draining tub in the room. You look over to Nico, towel wrapped around his waist, and admire the man you love. You love him for so much more than his physique, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t the cherry on top of the already perfect soul before you.

Before he catches you staring and gets anymore ideas, you look away and wrap your own towel around your body, trying to shield yourself from the cool air on your damp skin.

“Thank you, Schatz,” Nico breaks the silence, causing you to look up at him, noticing he had closed the distance between the two of you, reaching out to place a piece of hair behind your ear, hand falling to your cheek.

“For what?”

“For always being here when I need someone. For always knowing exactly what I need, even before I do. For being you,” he states, referencing the many times you’ve been his sanity after days like today, always managing to take his mind off of his troubles and filling his head with thoughts of you, instead.

“Always,” you turn your head, placing a kiss on his palm before placing your cheek back against his palm, flashing Nico one of your loving smiles.

“Now, what about digging into that cake I made you? It’s not going to eat itself, you know?” you perk up, wanting to find out if you efforts paid off or not.

“Oh, I have a different kind of dessert I’d rather dig into, if you don’t mind,” Nico smirks, watching your eyes widen as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, laughing at your squeal as he heads towards the door of the bathroom, ready to savor his sweet treat.

649 notes · View notes

quintinh43 · 8 months ago

Text

How It All Began | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinns family finally finds out that Him and y/n are together. Featuring our local B.c. boy, the one and only Mat Barzal. Based loosely off of this.

Parings: Quinn Hughes x Teacher!Fem!Reader

Warnings: None I think. Maybe some anxious feelings. Part of this universe but can be read as a stand alone.

Wc: 5.7k

The door clicks shut, breaking your focus and signifying that Quinn is home from practice. As he passes by the couch, he drops a kiss to your head, ruffling your hair as he goes. "Hi baby," he murmurs quietly, not wanting to disturb you while you mark math tests.

"Hi Q," you say off-handedly, grimacing as you circle another question in red and write down the correct answer. This poor kid is going to need some extra help. You quickly scan your attendance list and put a star beside his name.

Quinn busies himself by taking a quick shower and cutting up some fruit as a snack before he flops on the couch and pillows his head on your thigh. Your fingers automatically delve into his hair, rubbing at his scalp soothingly. He lets out a contented sigh as he snatches the TV remote and navigates to YouTube to play some sort of educational video that will make his brain work.

Occasionally, he holds a piece of fruit up for you, and you take it without hesitation, often catching his fingers between your teeth playfully. Halfway through a video about Moser's circle problem, he pauses it and takes the pen and paper from your hand, setting them on the coffee table neatly.

"Sorry to disrupt your marking, babe," he says softly, holding up a strawberry for you in a sort of apology, "I have a question for you." His tongue darts against his lip in a nervous habit as he awaits your response.

"All good, baby; I could use a break anyway." You smile, happily taking the slice of strawberry into your mouth. You lean down and kiss the corner of his mouth sweetly, hoping to alleviate some of his nerves, "What's your question?"

"Will you come to Michigan with me this summer? I know you usually say no, but now you're my girlfriend, and I don't wanna spend the summer without you. I mean, I understand if you don't wanna, and I won't push, but it'd really mean a lot to me to have you there and-"

Your smile grows as he rambles, and you cut him off with a kiss. "Yes, Quinn, I'll come to Michigan with you this summer and for every summer after that, as long as you'll have me,"

The smile Quinn gives you is dazzling and filled with love, "for the rest of our lives?"

"For the rest of our lives," you confirm, sealing your lips over his in another sweet kiss. You pull away for air, smoothing his hair down with a smile. "Now make yourself useful and help me mark these tests," you say nudging him into a sitting position.

"Tyrant," he mutters, though he can barely keep the smile off his face. He splits the remainder of the stack of tests in half and slides a pile over to you. You give him the answer key, already having memorized most of the answers and the two of you work comfortably side by side. After the stack of tests is marked you hand Quinn your trusty sticker book, and he lights up as he takes it from you, he places a sticker on each test with such care it makes your heart melt.

The remainder of the evening passes by in the blissful peace of each other's company, and soon the two of you are curled around each other, fast asleep on the couch.

The months fly by as the weather grows warmer, and the canucks are in the playoffs. It's a bit of an adjustment, dealing with the chaos of the end of the school year while Quinn captains a playoff team, but if the pair of you are good at anything, it's adapting to what life throws at you.

Soon, hockey season is over, and it's the last day of the school year. Honestly, you are just as happy as the kids. The day flies by in a whirlwind of fun, and soon enough, you're hugging your students goodbye and promising you'll visit them in their class next year. You'll never admit it, but it makes you feel a little emotional every time.

Quinn picks you up from school with a bouquet of flowers and two slices of pie from the shop downtown that the two of you reserve exclusively for special occasions. Quinn leans over the center console and plants a sweet kiss on your lips, turning you to putty in his arms.

"Happy last day of school, Ms. Y/l/n," he smirked, punctuating his sentence with a kiss to your cheek.

You can't help the giggle that falls from your lips, and you lace your fingers with his as he drives to Prospect Point. You pick a place on the sea wall for the two of you to sit and prepare to feast on the pie.

"To the best summer of our lives," Quinn grins, tapping his pie against yours. You smile, your heart full, and you dig in.

"How do you know it'll be the best summer of our lives?" You tease, watching the boats on the water.

"Because for the first time," Quinn murmurs with a grin, taking your chin between his pointer finger and thumb to make you look at him, "we'll be spending it together," he places a gentle kiss on your lips and you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him close.

"I love you, Quintin," you hum with a smile.

"I love you too, Y/n," he leans against you, and you thread your fingers through his hair as you watch boats drift along the waterline, lit by the glow of the setting sun. And at that moment, everything was right in the world.

The sun disappears over the horizon, and Quinn wraps his arm over your shoulders as you walk back to the car, "we gotta get you packed," he mumbles against your hair.

"Ugh, don't remind me," you groan. "I hate packing,"

"Well, I already told you you could bring a small bag and I'll take you shopping when we get to Mich, but somebody didn't like that idea," he sasses, nipping at your ear.

You flick him in the nose, scowling, "Shut up,"

"Yes, ma'am," he smirks.

As soon as you get home, Quinn wastes no time, pulling out a suitcase for you as you go through the list of what you need to pack. Quinn leaves you to it, knowing that there's a method to your madness, and the only thing he can do to help is sit there and look pretty.

He's lounging on the bed while piles of clothing surround you. As you start neatly packing things into the suitcase you go through the pile of swimsuits once more, "Are you sure I need this many swimsuits?" You ask skeptically, for what is probably the third time.

"Yes, babe. We are on the water almost every day," he says again. His answer still the same as the last time you asked.

"Oh!" You spring up with a smile on your face and saunter to the closet, "I just remembered..."

"Remembered what, babe?" Quinn asks curiously, rolling over on the bed so he's no longer looking at you upside down as you emerge from the closet with a blue plastic card. You present it to him with a big smile.

He squints his eyes, snatching the card from your hands. "Is this real?"

You scoff. "Of course, it's real."

"No fucking way," Quinn says, wide-eyed, flipping it over and inspecting the back of it, "We have known each other for so long, and you never mentioned you had a boat license."

You roll your eyes and plant yourself in the middle of your piles of clothing again while Quinn inspects your very real boating license. "I basically grew up on the Okanagan, of course, I have a boat license."

"Oh baby, Jack just got demoted from first mate," he chuckles, grin spreading wide.

You giggle as you pack everything into the suitcase, "I'm excited to see everyone. It's been way too long."

"Speaking of seeing everyone..." he trails off, nervously fiddling with his fingers, "I didn't tell them about us yet. Or that you're coming."

Confusion is written on your features as you look at him. Your heart stutters a little. He notices the look on your face and is quick to tamper your worries. "I just- I wanted to tell them in person. You're so important to me and to my family as well, and it didn't feel right to tell them over the phone, you know?"

"I'm nervous." You say quietly, zipping up your suitcase after you've packed everything into it. Quinn stands, pulling you into his arms, you melt into the warmth of his body and loop your arms around his back.

"They already love you, baby, don't even worry," he says, planting a sweet kiss on your hair. You sigh against his chest and let the beat of his heart calm your nerves. His hands stroke your back in soothing circles, and he starts to sway the two of you back and forth.

"Alexa, play Heaven by Bryan Adams," Quinn says just loud enough for the device to pick up his voice. You smile into his chest as soft music fills the room, and all of a sudden, tears well at the corners of your eyes because this is everything you have ever dreamed of and more.

"I love you so much, Quinn," you murmur against his shirt, "more than I have words for."

Quinn pulls away, cupping your face and kissing the tears from your cheeks, "don't cry, baby," he says earnestly, not knowing the reason for your tears.

"Happy tears," you choke out with a smile, nuzzling your cheek against his hand with a happy sigh. He pulls you back into his chest and sways to the music until the song is over. You stand on your tip toes and press a sweet kiss to his lips. He smiles against your mouth "Gotta finish packing sweets," he mutters, squeezing your waist. You nip at his lip playfully, and he pulls away with an overdramatic hiss.

"Why'd you have to remind me?" You pout, crossing your arms against your chest.

Quinn chuckles, smoothing his tongue along his bottom lip, "Come on, babe, I know you won't be able to relax until you get it done. Plus, now it's just your airplane bag, and then you're free."

You sigh, knowing he's correct, as you gather the things that need to go in your backpack. Your iPad, current book, AirPods, chargers, wallet, passport, and all the other important stuff that need to go in your backpack. Quinn rolls your suitcase by the door, and you place your backpack on top of it, finally done packing for the night.

"How are we getting to the airport?" You ask, mouth full of toothpaste as you and Quinn prepare for bed side by side. Quinn's hair is held back by one of those silly skincare headbands.

You can't help but snap a photo of the two of you. Quinn patted his face dry with a towel, brown curls were pushed back by a lavender headband, you had your toothbrush hanging half out of your mouth, and your hair was pushed back with a matching blue headband.

Quinn rolls his eyes fondly and presses a kiss to your cheek and you snap another photo with a giggle. Domestic Quinn is your favourite Quinn because he's all yours. No one else gets to see him like this.

Quinn finishes drying his face, "Hmm, I think Barzy said he would take us, I'll text him and double-check."

It takes a minute for the nickname to place, but as soon as it does, you whip around to face him, a piece of floss stuck between your teeth, "Barzy? As in Barzal? Like Matthew Barzal of the New York Islanders?"

Quinn looks at you strangely, "What other Barzal's do you know?"

"Since when are you buddies with Mat Barzal?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

Quinn furrows his brows, trying to recall when he became friends with Mat, "Since I moved to Vancouver? I swear you knew this?"

"No, I didn't," you shake your head, throwing your floss in the garbage.

"His family lives in Coquitlam. I usually pick him up from the airport when he flies in if I'm still in Vancouver," he shrugs. He swore you knew all of this. Then again, this is the first time he's been around this far into the off-season. He unusually catches the first possible flight out to Michigan, but this time, he stuck around until you were finished teaching.

Your eyes light up in recognition. "Is that the 'Matty' you pick up from the airport every year?" You ask as all the pieces click into place.

Quinn nods, flipping off the bathroom light and texting mat while you curl up on your respective side of the bed, holding the quilt up for him to slip underneath. "Mat says he'll drop us off," Quinn says, ensuring his alarm is set before he plugs his phone in and slips under the covers beside you.

As always, you curl into his side, and he wraps his arm around you, bringing you as close to his chest as possible, stroking patterns along your arm. You toss your leg over his hip, and his other hand finds its home on your leg.

"Night baby, I love you," you whisper against his chest.

"I love you too," he says, pressing a kiss to your hair.

The morning brings a whirlwind of chaos. Making sure neither of you forgot anything important, triple checking to be sure there's nothing left in the fridge that will go bad, amongst other things. There's a knock on the door while Quinn ensures everything is unplugged around the apartment.

"Ready to go?" Quinn asks as he's locking the apartment door. It's a rhetorical question; it's time to go whether you are ready or not, but the fact that he still cares enough to ask makes your chest warm.

"Yeah," you sigh, locking your fingers with his. He squeezes your hand and gives you a reassuring smile as the two of you walk to the awaiting car of Mat Barzal. He pops the trunk, and Quinn hoists your suitcase into the back.

You slip into the back seat, leaving the passenger side for Quinn. Mat whips towards you with a grin, tilting his head so he can see you over the rims of his sunglasses. "You must be the missus," he sticks his hand out for you to shake, "it's good to finally meet you. Huggy never shuts up about you."

You smile, shaking his hand, "Good to meet you too, Mat. I can't believe Quinn has never introduced us before now,"

Quinn slips into the passenger seat, rolling his eyes. "Cause I knew you two would get along like a house on fire, and frankly, that's something out of my nightmares."

"Oh hush, Huggy," Mat produces a tray from seemingly out of nowhere carrying three takeout cups, "drink your green juice before you pop a vein," he says, handing Quinn the cup with some healthy-looking green juice in it. Quinn takes the cup with a grumble.

"And for the lady," Mat produces a cup of coffee, "I hope you like hazelnut lattes. Quinn didn't text me back fast enough about your coffee order, so this is what I got."

"This is perfect, thank you." You say, taking the cup from him, incredibly happy now that you have your hands on some caffeine.

"Thanks for feeding my girlfriend's addiction you ass," Quinn grumbles. His tone is teasing, and his words are light-hearted, but it's funny how Mat sticks out his bottom lip in an offended pout.

"It's not an addiction!" You protest with a gasp, keeping your coffee close to your chest as if Quinn might try to steal it.

The rest of the ride to the airport is filled with friendly banter and you and Mat exchange numbers. Quinn pretends it's the worst thing to happen, but secretly, he's happy that you and Mat are getting along.

Mat steps out to do the bro hug thing with Quinn and then grabs your suitcase from the car. Mat pulls you into a side hug, "It was good to meet you, Missus. I know you probably know this, but Quinn loves you a lot. He wears his love for you on his face, which is surprising considering that he's... well, he's Quinn." Mat says with an awkward chuckle.

It's surprising to hear from someone else. You'd never really thought about how Quinn looks at you in public. To you, he's sassy, and he talks a lot. He wears his emotions on his sleeve, and he isn't afraid to make his feelings known. To the public, he's quiet and respectful and knows exactly what to say and when to say it.

So to hear that he wears his love for you in his face, publicly, in the open, for the world to see, well, it makes your heart flutter warmly in your chest.

Quinn rejoins the two of you, leaning casually against your suitcase. You take that as your cue to leave and turn to hug Mat for real.

"Thanks for saying that, Mat. It means a lot." You whisper to him.

Mat chuckles, patting you on the back, "Of course, it was good to meet you, Y/n. I'm gonna let you go now because Quinn looks like he might try to kill me, but send me lots of photos of the two of you this summer, ok?"

It's an odd request, mainly because you just met, but you like him, and you know you're going to become good friends, so you smile and promise you'll send him lots of photos.

"Thanks for driving us to the airport, Barzy," Quinn smiles, dabbing him up one last time before the two of you head into the airport.

Quinn offers his hand for you, leading the two of you through the airport. You take it gratefully, happy not to have to use your brain. Soon enough, you're seated side by side on the plane, ready to take off. Quinn hands you water while you pop your drugs, ready to pass out. Flying has never been a favourite activity of yours, so you usually take a couple of nighttime advils and knock out for the duration of the flight.

It's like magic, really; You go to sleep in one place and wake up in another. You pillow your head on Quinn's shoulder, and before you know it, you are out cold.

Approximately six hours later, Quinn is shaking you awake ever so gently, "We're here, babe, planes landed," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your head.

You blink the sleep from your eyes, your brain feeling a little groggy. "Times' it?" You mumble, flopping your head back onto Quinn's shoulder.

"4:27 pm,"

You hum in acknowledgement, rubbing your eyes with a sigh. The flight attendants announced that it was time to start deboarding. Quinn nudges you up while he grabs both of your backpacks from the overhead compartment. He gives you yours and grabs your hand, leading you off the plane to collect your baggage.

As the two of you wait by the baggage carousel, you lean against the sturdiness of Quinn's body, still groggy from the meds. Quinn rubs his hands up and down your arms in soothing motions. His phone buzzes incessantly in his pocket, and he pulls it out with a huff. His eyes light up instantly when he sees that it's Jack and Luke in their group chat.

“Jack and Luke are here,” he whispers with a smile. Suddenly, you are wide awake; you haven't seen either of them since December, and holy fuck, you miss them. “I told them to park and come in,”

“They still don't know I'm here, right?” you question excitedly. Quinn nods, his eyes sparkling with amusement at how excited you are. “You face that way, and tell me when they’re coming,” you say, stepping away from Quinn so you aren't standing suspiciously close to him. Quinn chuckles at your request and does it anyway, facing the entrance to the airport so he can see when his brothers enter. You are practically vibrating with excitement as you wait for them to arrive.

You and Quinn can hear them before you see them, “-well, he probably told us to come in because he has a suitcase or something,” Jack says, exasperated.

“But why does he have a suitcase? He never brings a suitcase?” Luke asks confused

They round the corner as Jack sighs. He points to Quinn and slaps Luke upside the head, “Go ask him yourself,”

You are covering your mouth with a hand to keep your laughter quiet, and Quinn is peaking at you out of the corner of his eye with a very amused look.

“What’r you smiling about Quinner?” Luke asks, looping his arm around his brother. Quinn pats his back as Jack joins the hug, throwing himself at Quinn’s free side. Quinn loops his free arm around him with a grunt. “Just happy to see you dumbasses,”

“So why’d you have luggage?” Luke asks, brows raised.

You choose that moment to face them, “It’s mine, actually,” you grin.

Both of their jaws drop to the floor, and they scramble to untangle themselves from Quinn and throw themselves at you instead. Jack gets to you first, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Luke hugs you around your back. It's awkward because of your backpack, but he is too impatient to wait for Jack to let go, “Y/n, are you really here?” Jack says quietly.

“No, she’s a figment of your imagination,” Luke says with an eye roll, squeezing you just a little tighter “Yes, she’s here, dumbass,”

Quinn chuckles at the interaction, grabbing your suitcase off the conveyor belt as it passes. He leans on it, watching as his brothers practically squeeze the life out of you.

“No one asked you,” Jack huffs. You smile against Jack's neck and tap his arm for him to let go of you. Jack whirls on Quinn, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “How come you didn't tell us she was coming?”

“It was a surprise.” he shrugs with a smirk.

Luke loops an arm around your shoulder, and you wrap one around his waist. You have known the kid since he was a fourteen-year-old who barely came up to your shoulder. At this point, he is basically your little brother. Hopefully, one day, he will be.

“Does this mean you finally pulled your head out of your ass and confessed that you’ve been head over heels for her since you’ve met?” Jack asks bluntly, he pulls on the strap of your backpack to take it from you, and you let him gladly..

Luke cackles, and you laugh behind your hand while Quinn goes red in the face. “Technically, I’m the one who confessed.” you grin, walking towards the door.

“So tell us the story,” Jack nudges with a grin.

“Oh god, can we not?” Quinn groans, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“Quinn, please tell me you did not embarrass the family name,” Luke says all too seriously.

“Shut up, Luke. At least I have a girlfriend.”

“So he did embarrass the family name then,” Jack says teasingly.

You just smile, and Jack breaks out into a cackle. Quinn grumbles unintelligibly as he places your suitcase into the trunk. He holds his hand out for the keys, and Luke pouts but hands them over without argument as the older sibling, Quinn, is quite literally incapable of allowing his younger siblings to drive while he is in the car. Quinn opens the passenger door for you, and you slide in with a smile, kissing him on the cheek.

“UGH, THAT WAS SO GROSS,” Luke yells dramatically, covering his eyes. “Keep your grimy lips off her, you heathen!”

“She literally kissed me, you dumbass,” Quinn says, rolling his eyes as he adjusts the seat to his comfort, he laces your fingers together, and you keep your intertwined hands perched in your lap. The drive to the lake house is filled with friendly chatter. Jack and Luke ask about your work, how the kids are, and when they can come to visit next year. You ask them about their last season, how their summer is going, if they are excited for the next season, and everything else that comes to mind.

It’s almost sad that the drive is over as the car pulls up to Lake House. Until you remember you’re about to see Ellen and Jim for the first time in a while. The excitement returns tenfold, and you don't even care about surprising them. As the car rolls to a stoop and you burst out before Quinn has had the chance to put it in park, you can’t remember why you were nervous about coming to Michigan.

“Hi Quinn, we’re in the kitchen!” Ellen's voice calls as she hears the front door open. Following the sound of Ellen's voice you find the kitchen easily.

“Hi El, Hi Jim,” you say with a sheepish smile. They look up, startled by a voice that is most definitely not Quinn.

Jim comes over with a smile, pulling you into a side hug. “Hey Kiddo, long time, its good to see you.”

“Oh my goodness! Y/n!” Ellen drops what she is doing and practically runs to hug you, “Welcome to Michigan, Honey! How come no one told us you were coming? Where are the boys?”

As if on cue, the boys appear in a wave of chaos, Luke dragging your suitcase, Quinn and Jack carrying the backpacks. “Hey, mom, hey, dad,” Quinn says, dropping his bag and hugging them respectively.

Ellen nudges him in the stomach with an elbow, and he doubles over dramatically. “How come you didn't tell us you were bringing Y/n?” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at her son.

“She’s finally his girlfriend!” Luke yells as he drags your bags upstairs to Quinn's room.

Ellen's head whips between you two, “surprise,” Quinn says sheepishly, making jazz hands at his mom. Jim snorts and resumes setting the table. Ellen’s face settles into a soft, knowing smile. And she pulls you in for another hug along with Quinn.

“I thought he was never gonna confess at this rate.” Ellen teases.

“Well, actually,” you start with a grin, and Quinn is already groaning, “I was the one who confessed,”

“Well, we would love to hear the whole story at dinner, Quinn. Why don’t you give her a quick mini-tour and then freshen up? Dinner will be ready in less than ten.”

“Sure, Mom,” he drops a kiss to her hair and grabs you by the hand, leading you out of the kitchen, back into the living room and up the stairs where Luke had disappeared with your luggage, pointing out things along as you go. He promises a more in-depth tour after dinner as he drags you to his bedroom so the two of you can freshen up.

Jack and Luke had brought all of your luggage up, thank god. You grab your toothbrush out of your bag, and Quinn points you in the direction of the bathroom. “Do you want something to change into?” he asks as he shuffles through his closet.

“I wouldn't be opposed to a t-shirt,” you answer, undoing your hair and rubbing your fingers into your scalp to release the tension from having your hair up since this morning. You brush your teeth quickly and strip off your hoodie, tossing it on top of your suitcase, as Quinn hands you a t-shirt. As you pull it over your head, the comforting smell of Quinn engulfs you, and you sigh happily.

Suddenly, Quinn is in front of you, wrapping his arms around you loosely, and you practically fall into him. “How are you feeling?” he asks gently, his hands finding your bare skin under your shirt.

“So happy I came with you, Q,” you smile against his chest.

“Me too, baby, me too,” he sighs.

Ellen's voice echos up the stairs, saying that dinner is ready, and Quinn places a kiss on your cheek before loosely tangling your fingers together and leading you back down the stairs. Quinn sits on your left, your thing comfortable resting on top of his. Luke is on your right, and Jim, Ellen and Jack are across from you.

“So tell us the story of how you finally got together,” Ellen prompts, handing you the potatoes.

“Oh god, must we?” Quinn groans,

“Quinn did something embarrassing apparently,” Jack grins, piling his plate high with food.

Their parents don't comment, but the sly smiles that adorn their faces tell you they expected nothing less from their son. “Please spare no expense. We've only waited half a decade for this,” Luke says seriously.

“It was nothing special, really,” you smile, “we were just having dinner, and then it slipped out.” you shrug.

Jack pokes you with his foot under the table, and you glare at him playfully. “Come on, you are holding out on us. What happened after that?”

“Nothing,” you smile.

“Nothing?” Luke questions, and you know he’s caught on as you nod in confirmation.

“As in…” Ellen eyes Quinn with an intensity that only a mother can manage, “Quinn did nothing,”

Quinn hides his face, absolutely mortified, “he didn't do anything, didn't say anything, he just kind of stood there with a blank stare,” you say, smiling fondly as you recall how the night went. It was funny looking back on it now, but at that time, it was the most horrifying moment of your life.

“Quinn, seriously!” Luke scolds, “The girl you love confesses her undying feelings, and you do nothing! That's so embarrassing. We’re renouncing you as a Hughes.”

“Pretty sure I'm the only one who has that power, kiddo,” Jim chimes in with a teasing smile.

“So what happened after that?” Jack encourages with a wave of his hand.

“Well, naturally, after you confess your feelings for your best friend and he just kind of stands there frozen like a baby deer in headlights, you feel pretty mortified,” you shrug, “so naturally, I ran away.”

“Oh my god! You didn't!” Luke gasps dramatically.

“Mhmm,” you nod, “I did,” you nudge Quinn gently so he can continue the story.

“Forgot her phone, keys, wallet, everything,” Quinn says, shaking his head, “I was freaking out, so I kinda just ran out of the apartment after her. I’m sprinting down the streets of downtown Vancouver after dark, and it starts raining. Eventually, like, ten minutes later, I found her crying on a park bench, soaked to the bone and shivering like there was no tomorrow.”

“And just as I was about to take off again, he grabbed me by the wrist and told me he loves me too,” you say, smiling softly.

“Dude, that's straight out of The Notebook,” Jack laughs,

“Well, that will make a fun wedding story.” Ellen smiles,

“That's what Quinn said,” You say, grinning.

“Good job, Quinner. I honestly expected much more embarrassment on your part.” Luke says much too happily.

“Gee, thanks for having so much faith in me, Moose.” Quinn rolls his eyes.

“I’m sure the real version is much less PG,” Jack mutters with a smirk, earning himself a jab from his mother. Your cheeks warm, and your gaze drops to your plate while the tips of Quinn’s ears go pink.

Jack’s smirk grows wider at your reactions, and he's cackling as he takes his next bite of food.

“After that, I moved into his place, and that's basically it, and now we're here.”

“And we're glad to have you,” Ellen smiles.

The remainder of dinner passes quickly, the conversation flowing between the five of you easily. You help clean the kitchen. “Wanna do a sunset boat ride?” Quinn asks as he dries his hands on the dish towel, “I'm itching to get on the water.”

“I'm down,” Luke and Jack say simultaneously, while Jim and Ellen nod in agreement.

“Everyone get a hoodie, you know how cold it gets on the boat as soon as the sun starts to set,” Ellen instructs while she heads up the stairs to grab hoodies for her and Jim.

“I’ll go get two for us,” Quinn murmurs, disappearing up the stairs behind his mom.

He comes back down, not a minute later, with two hoodies in hand. He hands you the blue Canucks hockey one and takes the grey one for himself.

“Oh, by the way, Jack,” Quinn starts as you all make your way to the dock, “you've been demoted as first mate and secondary driver,”

“What?” Jack practically screeches, “What did I do to deserve this?” he whines.

Quinn simply whips your boat license out of his pocket and shows it to Jack with a shit-eating grin.

Jack's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. “Don’t worry, Jack,” you laugh, “I would never usurp your position like that.” you pat him on the head reassuringly, and he can't help but smile at you.

Quinn hops over the side of the boat, and ever the gentleman offers you a hand. You take it with a smile and go to choose a seat, but before you can do so, Quinn is pulling you onto his lap in the driver's seat. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You are, after all, in front of his family. No one comments. They all simply smile knowingly as Quinn wraps one arm around your waist and hooks his chin over your shoulder.

With the comforting strength of Quinn’s body beneath you, the sunset on the lake and the soft chatter of the Hughes melding with the wind rushing in your ears, you decide that this will, in fact, be the best summer of your life.

Ya'll I am so so sorry this took so long. It was supposed to be out Friday, then Saturday, then Sunday, then Monday morning. And here we are. Monday night. Finally.

Some crazy shit happened 😭

Anyways, last final is on Thursday and then I have all the free time in the world to write!

Hope yall are having a wonderful day/night/evening/time etc.

As always, comments are much appreciated.

#quinn hughes #qh43 #hughes brothers #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes blurb #nhl imagines #nhl blurb #loving you is as easy as abc 123

659 notes · View notes

ghxstwrites · 1 month ago

Text

You're Mine

Pairing: Ghostface!Hongjoong x Female Reader, Brief Seonghwa x Reader, Brief San x Reader.

Summary: Hongjoong was in love with you and he’d kill to have a chance with you.

WC: 2.4K

AU: Non-Idol! Hongjoong, brief College! AU

Genre: Horror, Smut

Warning(s): Smut! MDNI; use of Knives/knife kink, Mask Kink, Degradation and Praise, Yandere!Hongjoong, name calling, unprotected sex (yes, just as scary, wrap it!), pet names (baby, doll), name calling, swearing, talks of crime scenes/bodies - no graphic descriptions

A/N: Happy Halloween, Loves! I couldn't think of a better way to finish the season than with captain himself. Thank you to my beta readers @bunnliix and @potatomountain for helping me out here!

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society

Tag List: @bethelighthalazia @a---shura @kpop---scenarios @autieofthevalley @rems-writing @skzdust (send me an ask if you'd like to be added!)

Kinktober & Flufftober Masterlist

The wind picked up as you walked through the neighborhood, Halloween was only a few days away and you could definitely tell.

The carved pumpkins on everyone's doorsteps, the goofy inflatables and plastic props sticking out of lawns, and the multicolored leaves on the ground that crunch under your feet as you walk down the street. You were on the way to your friend's house as you were bringing supplies for a party that was meant to happen at his apartment over the weekend.

Knocking on his door, you didn’t get a response, you opted to shoot him a text.

“Hey loser, you said you were home, where are you?” you sent the message to him not long after the door swings open and he’s drying off his hair.

“Sorry, I had to take a shower - I just got back from the gym and I was uh.. pretty gross,” he admits to you. You roll your eyes and brush past him sitting the bags on his kitchen island.

“Of everyone,” you paused looking up at your friend, “Why did you opt to host the party Joong?” You chuckle as he approaches you. “You don't really seem like the type to go to parties, plus we need some decorations, Man!”

He laughs as he tosses the towel to the side “I don’t go to parties, plus this is just a few people - i’ll manage,” he smirks as he leans against the counter.

It was Friday night, all of your friends pile into Hongjoong’s apartment, some of the guys had started to to drink and make unholy liquor concoctions as you try to set up the snacks for the night and just as the last attendee comes in Hongjoong walks out of his room pulling a shirt over his head.

“Wait, Where’s Seonghwa?” one of the others perked up.

“He’s usually never late,” you add, looking defeated, you had been hoping to catch him here because in the days leading up to the party the two of you had been exchanging flirtatious glances and witty comments. Maybe you’d even get lucky when no one was looking.

“Maybe he got caught up at work or something,” Hongjoong shrugs, not paying too much mind to the situation as he flops down on the couch setting up the movies for the night. “Scream marathon anyone?” He looks over at the group of his friends.

“I don’t really do scary movies, Joong…,” you say softly, before he has the chance to respond, San smiles at you.

“You can cling on to me as you need to, I’ll protect you,” he says confidently with a smirk.

Hongjoong could feel his blood boil, who did these guys think they were? You were his and he wasn't going to fight anyone for you, but on the outside he remained expressionless, huffing out a response he turned back to the TV pressing play on the movie.

After a few drinks, you settled back into San’s touch, his broad shoulders providing a comfortable back board to rest against. Across the room, Hongjoong settles into his spot on the sofa as he steals glances at you and San, his blood presure rising with each passing moment he sighs to himself, “Who gives a fuck about these movies,” he mutters under his breath as he gets up to go pour himself yet another drink.

He’d had an alternative to his party, getting you all to himself. He’d spent months pinning over you, doing anything he could to get you close to him, so when your sights got set on Seonghwa he felt betrayed, crushed, and even used. Hongjoong knew there was only one solution, after all - Seonghwa was the campus nerd, who would really miss him if that meant Hongjoong had what he wanted, no, needed. You.

San excuses himself so he can get some fresh air and attempt to sober up, he makes his way outside. Just as San slips out of the back door Hongjoong follows him.

“Oh hey man, i did-,” San doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence Hongjoong swings, punching San in his face. “What the fuck man?!” he yells out covering his nose

“Listen here bastard,” Hongjoong grits out “Anyone who flirts with Y/N… they go missing” Hongjoong locks eyes with the younger man. “Why do you think Seonghwa isn’t here?” He smiles wickedly, “She’s mine.”

It’d been about 45 minutes, San nowhere in sight, and now that you think about it - Where did Hongjoong go? Your eyelids were growing heavy so you tried to pay no mind to it until you heard Wooyoung gasp as he reached to pause the movie.

“Fucking, Seonghwa’s dead?!” He screeches out looking at his phone. You immediately shot up off the couch as silence fell over the friend group as they all focused their attention on him, he tapped on the news article.

“The victim was found this afternoon near his college dorm, police later identifying him as Park Seong-Hwa, a 26 year old college student, the police have not pinpointed a suspect at this time, all that was left behind at the crime scene was a note saying ‘Don’t blame the movies.’ Investigators believe the suspect could be a ‘copycat’ killer of the popular character ‘Ghostface’ from the Scream franchise, More updates as they are released.”

“I… I’m gonna step outside,” you whisper, you needed a mental breather, this was a lot to take in so you picked up your drink, making your way out to the back yard. Just as you step off to the side of the house you hear rustling, Looking up you first see San’s white t shirt, now stained your eyes naturally following the figure leaned over him which caused you to freeze, it was the man you’d just read about - a man dressed as ghostface, holding a knife and you couldn’t bring yourself to scream.

“What's the matter y/n?.. You look like you’ve seen a Ghost.” the masked figure lulls back at you.

“H-Hongjoong?.. Is that.. No, no no no,” you stammer out backing up from him but before you have the option to run he reaches out, grabbing you by shirt, pulling you to him, you stare back at him - rather the mesh covering his eyes - as your breathing picks up.

“Don’t you dare scream, understand me?” he tuts at you. All you can seem to do is nod at him.

Behind his mask all he can do is smirk “This is your fault baby, If you hadn’t been such a shameless slut, your friends would still be alive wouldn’t they?” He laughs spinning you around so your back now faces him as he brings the blood covered kitchen knife up to your throat, causing you to swallow thickly. “Y/n.. You’re gonna get your ass back in that house and pretend like you saw nothing, and maybe if for a change you’re a good girl..,” he coos, “You’ll get to live, yeah?” you nod softly.

You walk back into the house, by this point you realize everyone left, after getting the unsettling news regarding Seonghwa it puts a damper on the evening's festivities. You look around the living room noticing the absence of your friends, you breathe out a sigh of relief, slumping over the back of the couch as tears fall down your face, you are terrified and upset. You couldn’t help it, through your sobs you fail to notice the door opening behind you.

“What's the matter baby?” He coos at you, causing you to jump.

“Joong please…This isn’t you.. Is it the stupid fucking movies?” you hiss at him.

He smiles wickedly at you, “Baby..,” he walks up to you, holding onto your hips firmly, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. “Those movies didn’t create me, they only gave me more creative ideas,” he smirks.

You stare back at him, San’s blood now dried on his face, now serving as a lingering memory of him. Hongjoong sees this, taking the tip of the knife, gently bringing your attention back to him, careful not to break skin.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he smirks, “He doesnt matter anymore, you’re mine - understood?” He can smell the fear as your tear-filled eyes stare back, the words caught in your throat.

“O-okay..,” you squeak out.

A sadistic smile spreads across his face as he lets you go, causing you to fall back onto the couch. “You know baby, you look so pretty like this…,” His knife runs down your clothed body, stopping at the top of your pants.

“You look terrified but you’re probably so fucking wet..,“ he chuckles out, and you couldn’t lie to yourself, this was a new side of him and you weren’t sure what it was but everytime his knife ghosted your skin, you felt yourself clench around nothing.

“Hongjoong… Why.. what did they do..,” you choke out, maintaining eye contact with his masked face.

“They got too close to what was rightfully mine,” He says sternly “and I can’t share you baby,” he smirks as one hand grips your waist as the other finds the button to your jeans

“Won't you be mine, Doll?” his face leans closer to yours, “you’ll never have to worry again,” he coos in your ear as you feel the button pop on your pants. “Because anyone who gets near you.. I’ll make them disappear.” he spits as his hand finds the wet spot on your underwear. “Seems I'm right… shameless fucking whore…” he snarls.

Your body seemingly betrays you as you moan out, arching into his touch, “H-Hongjoong, What are you doing?” You look up at the masked man. You get no response and he hurriedly removes your jeans, tossing them to the side.

“This entire time you’ve been sitting here, putting on a show for me, when in reality you like this..,” His knife grazes your clothed pussy causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Joongie… please,” you squirm under his gaze.

“A pussy so pretty I should mark my initials on it.. Let everyone know you belong only to me,” He punctuated as he used his blade to cut through the thin material of your underwear, eliciting a gasp from you as your underwear fell to the side leaving you exposed, his words only fueling your desire more.

Hongjoong drops to his knees in front of you removing the now useless fabric as he presses soft kisses to the inside of your thighs, making you squirm. He gives no warning before he latches onto your sensitive nub, causing you to arch into him immediately. He works his tongue expertly as you writhe beneath him, his arms coming up to wrap around your thighs in an attempt to make you stay still.

“J-Joong - ah fuck - feels so good,” you breathe out as your hand tangles in his hair. He smirks against your dripping cunt.

“That’s it Doll, lose yourself in me…,” he lulls out as he slips two fingers into you as he scissors you open with his fingers, you feel a heat building in your stomach, and he can tell by the way you flutter around his fingers. His tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you closer and closer and just as that band in your stomach is about to snap you feel him pull his fingers out and release your cunt with a soft pop.

“Fu-Fuck, Joong! No!” you whine out at him.

“Shh… I’d never leave my baby unsatisfied…,” he chuckles at you, standing back up he pulls you up to eye level with him. “There you are…,” he coos, resting a hand on your cheek before it moves to find purchase in your hair, his grip tightening to an almost painful level as he uses his grip to pull you with him as he sits down on the couch, dragging you down to straddle his lap.

“This is better, hmm?” His voice sounds almost condescending as he rolls his hips against yours as you whimper. “Hongjoong…pl-please.”

“Oh doll… I know you can do better than that.” you can hear the way his voice is coated in pleasure.

“Please, I need you so bad.. I don’t know how much longer I can take this,” you plead with the man, as he grabs the mask he left on the table behind you, slipping it on.

He smirks, making quick work of his pants as he pulls out his aching cock, shuddering at the friction. ”F-fuck doll, you don’t know what you’ve done to me.” he huffs out as he thrust into you causing you both to moan out, you sit there allowing both of you to gather yourselves. You start to rock your hips back and forth as small whimpers leave your mouth, driving him insane. He reached back around, grabbing at your hair and yanking it forcing your head back as a low moan escaped you. He looked up at you with hungry eyes, watching the faces you made. “That's my doll, look at you, making such pretty noises for me - ah- not gonna last like this,” he cries out, his hand sneaks between your bodies, finding your clit, rubbing it in small circles causing you to cry out.

“That’s it doll… I’ve got you,” He coos as his thrust picks up speed to match his fingers as that band in your belly starts to form again. “Show me how much you love what I do to you, how much I have done for you…,” he growls at you, causing that band to snap, you cry out his name as you clench around him. At the same time his release coats your velvet walls as he throws his head back, he holds you in place as you both ride out your highs together.

As the fog in your brain clears, you look back at the masked man, you reach up, slowly taking it off him. He’s already staring back at you which causes you to flinch slightly, causing him to smile. He reaches up, moving strands of hair out of your face.

“No one else makes me feel this way,” he says softly, “you could rip my heart out of my chest and I’d still adore you,” you stare back at him, the Hongjoong you knew slipping back into your grasp. You reached up to caress his face, smiling softly.

“I wanna hear you say it,” he asks, barely above a whisper.

“I’m yours..,” you respond softly

“You’re mine.”

277 notes · View notes

ghysry · 3 months ago

Note

Don't feel compelled to write this if you don't want to!, but I think it would be pretty cool to see TUA siblings interacting with reader in the six years without powers they can be with them since the first apocalypse and they become like family, reader can be one of the other 43 children with powers! Doesn't have to be with any specific character but I will admit Five is my favorite and they did my boy wrong in season 4

*Does a soldier salute pose* Five is my favorite too. I get you, Anon.

Oneshot! Tags: Reader x Five, Reader x Five Hargreeves, Comfort/..., I'm feeling evil today...

---------------------------------------------------

"I think this is better."

There's a reason why humans are off balance when one of their senses suddenly stops working - like the blind, or the deaf. Imagine living in a world where you can't see after years of being used to it, or living in a world where all you can do is read lips instead of hearing the sound of music. We hold our senses very close to us like organs ; because they are.

Which is why it took you an embarrassingly long time to get used to the fact that you no longer had the ability to control the state of matter. You know - the basics. Gas to liquid, liquid to solid, solid to gas, human to vapor, atom to extremely dense gas. It served you the most purpose, you were deemed the most powerful out of all the siblings, well, that is to account for the fact that you were never adopted by Reginald Hargreeves.

Ah..hm, let's take a detour down memory lane for how this happened.

"Fascinating..truly fascinating. How much would you like for them?" Reginald Hargreeves peered down onto the basket containing a blanket wrapped neatly around the quiet infant, their eyes closed and their small chest rising and falling with each breath. "I'm not going to sell my child to you, you creep!" Your mother, a fighter during her first weeks with her only child, kicks Reginald Hargreeves right in his no-longer-child-giving nuts, which causes him to double down and cough much later than a normal person usually would.

Alright, now that you know how you weren't adopted, back to the present!

Nowadays you work alongside your life time partner, or should you say, husband. Both in the CIA, both crowned as the youngest officers of peace within this barely secret government. Which leads you to here - you, in your usual spot on the couch, laying down with a groan as your back hurts, and then groaning even more when this man child--your man child--flops onto you with a groan coming out of his mouth himself.

"Augh you're going to crush me!" You tilt your head back, trying to get into a comfortable position as this big cat can't help but cling tightly onto you, even going as far as grumbling out nonsense on how he's not that heavy, and you're just too weak to stand his superiority, to which you rub at his nape and feel his throat rumble with a purr.

"You are so lucky I love you. Or else I'd tease you about the whole purring thing," Though you belittle him about his weird capabilities, you keep on scratching at his nape, then behind his ear, feeling the vibration on your chest. "Shut up.." he finally answers, leaning his head into your hand, a look of satisfaction crossing his eyes when you massage his back. He's way too old for this job, and so are you.

Five wraps his arms around you, tired eyes looking into yours, and before you could laugh at his face he's already digging it into your chest, inhaling your scent and complaining about his boss (which was also your boss) being stupid because he wanted Five to work on something more significant, rather than analyzing a group of insane geeks sitting around in a cult-support system whatever the matter.

To be fair, a lot of them have a point.

Five gulps when he lifts his head back up and stares at you, into your eyes, deeper into your soul. Years and years of fighting, bickering, war, the feeling of dying and being remade, the feeling of having to fight for your life against yourself, seeing your siblings, your only family, die right in front of your eyes without being able to do anything about it..he finally achieved peace. Peace with you.

"I love-"

"Five?" Your hand comes to ruffle his hair, eyes staring at the ceiling, feeling grateful for your sentient weighted blanket. "..hm?" He responds, arms tightening around your waist to the point where you feel like you can't breathe. Chuckling at this, you close your eyes, plunging the world into a deep darkness you've seen thousands, maybe even millions of times.

it's time to wake up.

Five shoots out of his bed, cold sweat beading down his face, his head hurting like someone had narrowly missed burrowing a bullet into it, one hand clutching the blanket he lulls himself to sleep into, the other trying to clench around a hand he knows isn't there.

"Fuck." He falls back down into his bed, which spells an awful lot like marigold, hands coming up to rub at his face and wake him. The familiar venomous feeling in his chest seems to encapsulate him when he blinks, your face is there every time he moves, his heart beats of you, yet the universe doesn't even know who you are.

Oh yes. You were never supposed to be here, were you?

#the umbrella academy x reader #five x reader #five hargreaves x reader #tua season 4 #tua s4 #tua #five hargreeves #reader hargreeves #am i sorry? no

99 notes · View notes

isaut · 8 months ago

Text

𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔, 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓— f!reader x captain rex. 11.1k. ao3

you meet rex on a friday night in a bar. it's the start of a whole lot of coincidences. next. masterlist.

It’s a warm, spring night. The first warm night of the season. The sun still sets early, still leaves the evening blanketed, tucked in. In celebration of the weather’s grace, grace had been extended to the 501st. A night off. A night in their blacks, suits tucked away on their ship.

Naboo’s streets are lined with lamps encased in glass and iron. Intricate designs, ones that were hammered out by grizzled, loving hands generations ago. The streets are cobblestone, not dirt nor concrete. They’re slightly uneven, mined from below the planet’s surface. The favorite of a queen generations ago.

Taking the lead of the group are Fives and Hardcase. Their hands are all over each other: around each other’s necks, shoving each other, playing tag along the winding roads. They’re more like children on these streets, adulthood and responsibilities loosened by the shots taken back at the ship. Flavorless, bright green. From some hole-in-the-wall corner store in Coruscant.

Hardcase darts up the road, ducking behind an intricate column. He’s not well hidden at all, shoulder peeking out from behind. Nonetheless, when Fives walks past and Hardcase jumps on him, the former stumbles, hands stuck between bracing himself from falling and grabbing his brother’s legs to keep him on the piggyback. Instead, they both tumble to the ground, laughing loudly in the night.

The laughter sounds good. It sounds better than the screaming, than the shouting, than the panting, dying breaths that can be heard over the comms.

Tup helps them both up, his hair down and flopping around his jaw. It’s a shaky business, alcohol and giddiness marring all of their veins.

While Rex doesn’t like drinking, isn’t favorable to the warmth from a fresh shot, isn’t favorable to the inhibitions that comes with it, he is favorable to the comfort it brings his brothers. Twelve hours ago he’d been running through dry desert, frantically pulling helmets away from their suits, checking for pulses, holding his own face as the force left their eyes–

“You going to have fun tonight?” Comes a voice from beside Rex. He looks over— Kix. There’s a hair of worry in his eyes, a flash of concern.

Rex clears his throat. Pushes back the thoughts. If he trusted himself more he’d drink.

“I’ll stay out for a while,” Rex replies.

Kix pats his shoulder. No more words are exchanged. No more words need to be exchanged between the two of them.

The trio of stooges stop in their tracks, drawn to a bar. The door opens, and a few women tumble out of it, hair perfectly done and breathless. With them, music wafts out behind them, the acoustic tones shutting with the door. They giggle and wave at the group, one of them pulling a paper pack of cigarettes out of her purse.

Fives waves back. He’s got a not-real grin on his face, one that he thinks is cooler than it is.

“I think we should go here!” Hardcase says, louder than he needs to. Louder than is acceptable in the quiet streets. It earns them a look from some passerby, and a giggle from the tallest of the women.

The name of the bar swings in the warm breeze on a wooden sign, seared into it. Comienzos.

“When we get in, we can do another round of shots!” Hardcase continues. Rex doesn’t think they need another round of shots. But Hardcase’s hands are clapping down, hard, on Rex’s shoulders and shaking him around a bit. “And this time make sure our beloved captain joins in!

“I’m really— I’m fine without one,” Rex insists, waving his brothers off.

“It’s team building!” Hardcase presses. He loops around Rex to be in his face, tilting his head in a way that is probably supposed to be pleading but comes across as childish. “C’mon, you can’t say no to team building.”

Unease churns in Rex’s stomach. Not from the shots, but from imagining Hardcase a little too risky. A little too forward pushing. A little too maniacal. Panting last breaths over the comms.

“Fine. I’ll do one,” Rex bends. He’d regret it. He’d regret not seeing the joy immediately sprawl across his brothers’ faces.

Hardcase lets out a loud whoop! It draws more attention. From the women, from an older couple walking a fluffy, four legged animal. Rex gives a little wave and a nod to the couple, as if he could silently apologize for the disturbance they’ve caused.

Once inside, Rex is bathed in warmth. Bodies are moving on a tightly packed dance floor. Humans, not droids, stand on a stage with an array of instruments. They play each one like it’s an extension of their body, like the instrument has been part of their skeleton since they were born. They’re wooden and brass, and the band shows no sign of stopping soon.

Finding an open spot at the bar, Fives pushes to the front to flag down the bartender. She’s a pretty woman, with tan skin and black hair and a low cut shirt. Something that Fives is very appreciative of.

“Brother’s night out?” She calls over the music.

“Dad’s genes are strong,” Fives says. “We’re gonna do a round of shots.”

The bartender doesn’t seem phased at the joke, which dims the expectation in Fives’ eyes. It’s worked on every girl in the past, after all.

Rex pats Echo on the shoulder. “Gonna go sit down. Do not get crazy.”

Echo clicks his tongue. “We’d never.”

Rex isn’t a fan of liars, but he doesn’t push it. Instead, he turns away from the bar and heads towards an empty table in the corner. It’s miraculously empty and seems to have enough stools for all of them.

When they’d been given their night off, General Skywalker had been flippant but also wished the force to be with them. Perhaps it was happening right now. Rex is slightly thankful as he slides into one of the stools, and watches his brothers from afar. The Stooges do what Rex only assumes is a secret shot. Clear liquid is tipped back from a small shot glass, and then quickly set back down on the table.

Kix, already on his way over the table, points his thumb back at them as if to say get a load of this. Rex huffs a laugh through his nose and shakes his head in disbelief. He slides into the seat beside Rex, rolling his eyes.

“As if we aren’t going to notice,” Kix says.

“Whether or not we saw…” Rex tacks on. He watches them hoot and holler as Echo does a shot of something an amber color. Hardcase rubs the back of Echo’s head with that maniacal grin on his face.

On surprisingly sturdy legs, little yellow shots with candied rims are brought over to the table. An expression of disgust forms across Rex’s face before he’s even tried them. The sweet treat must be Tup’s choosing.

“What is this?” Kix asks, pulling two towards him and Rex.

“Limoncello,” Tup says. “Maria recommended it.”

Rex wants to be on the ship watching a nature documentary on his datapad maybe with a cold beer.

“Maria?” He asks, bringing the shot to his nose to take a whiff. It’s citrus sweet.

“Tup was a big boy and asked for her name,” Fives laughs.

“Don’t marry her in your dreams,” Rex warns, a teasing smirk on his face.

“Don’t marry her in your dreams,” Tup mocks under his breath, shaking his head from side to side. “I just asked her for her name. Don’t be weird.”

The shots are for living another day, apparently. Rex doesn’t see that there’s anything better to cheer for. Not dead yet. The glasses hit the table, then are dumped back down their throats.

It is sweet. A little sour, but mostly sweet. Rex isn’t a fan.

Kix shares his distaste. He gathers the glasses into both his hands and stands. “I’m getting beers. You want?”

“Yeah,” Rex replies.

“Hey!” Fives calls after Kix. Kix turns, raising his eyebrow. “Nothing for us?”

“You’re going to be drunk enough,” Kix replies. He turns, and heads off towards the bar.

Hardcase hasn’t sat down yet. Instead, his hands are clapped on Echo’s shoulders. He’s speaking to Fives about his brother, making diabolical plans to get him laid that night above his head. He’s speaking too loud to be discreet, and loud enough that it makes Rex want to be swallowed by the floor. Fives gestures over to a group of women, a different group than the ones seen before, and adds to their conspiring.

All four of them, the Stooges and Echo, head off towards the women. Rex takes a deep breath of the warm air. Glances over at Kix– The bartender, Maria, seems to actually be engaging him in conversation. She’s leaned over, giving him a look down her shirt, and is laughing at something he’s saying.

Rex looks back at the dumpster fire that’s going on across the room. Fives seems to be making some sort of case for Echo, hand on his shoulder and speaking animatedly. Maybe it’s the same lie, the one about Echo being a virgin, they’re spinning.

Kix returns with two beers and a triumphant look on his face. He slides one over to Rex, and is sure to clink the necks together in cheers before taking a sip.

“What’re you so happy about?” Rex asks.

“Maria said I was pretty,” Kix hums.

“How nice of her to give us all a compliment,” Rex mumbles.

“Hey, don’t be like that,” Kix says, furrowing his brow.

“Sorry.” Rex speaks into the beer’s mouth, taking a long pull.

A beat of quiet passes between the two of them. Rex watches the dancefloor. It’s more attractive than his brothers failing miserably at wingmanning each other.

The dance floor has swelled as the night has progressed. A few of the girls walk away from the Stooges, joining the breathing floor. Rex’s attention isn’t on anyone or anything in particular. Instead, he’s watching the general shapes, the general flows of rhythm that extend through the physical body.

“Maybe you should try getting laid tonight,” Kix suggests.

“I’m not in the mood,” Rex replies, almost too quickly. He’s not.

Kix lets it go. Rex returns to his watching. Maybe the beer will make him feel better. Maybe a walk will clear his head. Maybe he really should have stayed in with a nature documentary. Everyone on the dance floor moves with such ease, as if they are all of the same mind and body. One living organism.

“Hardcase straight up asked if they wanted to, and I quote, fuck,” Fives huffs, sounding more like a petulant child than a rejected adult.

Rex’s attention snaps away from the floor. Fives sits down on a stool beside him, resting his head in his hands.

“He let down Echo. What if he never gets his dick wet?” Fives bemoans.

Hardcase rolls his eyes. He crosses his arms, and doesn’t sit down. “I think we should go to the next bar.”

Rex looks beyond the bemoaners. It seems like Tup and Echo are doing just fine, now that Hardcase and Fives have walked away.

“Don’t think a new bar is going to fix your problems,” Kix says, his gaze following Rex’s.

Rex stands. He claps both Hardcase and Fives on their shoulders. “I think the problem is you.”

They look over. A pained expression paints their faces.

“We have to go to another bar,” Fives insists.

“I’m content right here,” Kix says, bringing his beer to his lips. “Maria gave me her freq– Hey, where are you going?”

Rex turns, a few paces from the table. “Taking a leak. Want to hold my hand?”

“Fuck off,” Kix sighs and turns back to the group. There, he has questions to answer about the bartender from his eager brothers. They sit around him, hanging on to each word that Kix reluctantly shares.

“What I thought,” Rex mumbles to himself, and heads off in search of the restroom.

It’s tucked back behind a wall, sitting behind a large oak door, common in Naboo. After trying the handle, Rex sighs. It’s occupied.

Rex leans back against the wall while he waits, closing his eyes. The music reverberates through the wall, sending pleasant waves through his body.

“Ugh, is it occupied?”

Rex turns his head to face the voice. Immediately, he straightens off the wall. Words escape him for a moment, stuck somewhere in the blank spaces of his brain. You’re beautiful. Red lips, long lashes, curve-hugging dress. His lips part once, then he finds his words, though it’s not many.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sorry.” What is he apologizing for?

You sigh, crossing your arms. “Honestly, kind of insane this place only has one bathroom.”

Rex nods. Words filter back to his brain in a slow, gracious trickle. “You come here often?”

A laugh stretches out past your red lips. “I’ve been known to spend an evening here, yes.”

There’s a beat of silence. You glance towards the wall before back to the man in front of you.

“What about you?”

“Me?” Rex turns his head back to you. “Oh, I’m just visiting.”

“Where from?”

“Small planet, far away. Nowhere as nice as here.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s plenty nice. You’re just from there, so you don’t see the beauty in it.”

Rex shrugs. He’s about to reply when the bathroom door opens and a patron exits. He gestures towards it.

“Ladies first.”

“Oh, thank you so much.” You deflate with graciousness. With a hand on the door, pushing it open, you look over your shoulder at Rex. Your lashes bat down as you take a long look up and down his body. He’s filled out quite nicely, but there’s something about him that draws you in. “When I’m done in here, I’m going to smoke a cigarette on the rooftop. If you want to join me.”

“Oh, I don’t smoke,” Rex says. He makes a split-second decision. “But I’ll join you.”

You smile wide at him again, then disappear into the bathroom. Rex resumes his slouch against the wall. A faint smile crosses his face as he thinks about your own smile.

Rex doesn’t bother telling his brothers where he’s off too. Instead, he goes straight from the toilet to the rooftop. It takes a small staircase where the middle of the stairs are worn down, and a good push on the door that seems to be stuck on its hinges.

The rooftop is nice. Decorated with little lights and a few tables. It’s clear that it’s meant for patrons, but wasn’t being used tonight due to the live music below. The night sky stretches on above you, stars drowned out by the city lights of Theed.

The bar is across the street from the sea, so the lights are swallowed whole by the waters of Naboo. You stand by the wall, which is a white plaster that reaches your waist, curved at the top. The fairy lights illuminate you, working with the moonlight to encase you in an ethereal glow. There’s a shawl around your shoulders, and a pearlescent cigarette case glints in your hand.

Your head turns at the sound of the door being opened. A lazy grin makes its way across your face as you recognize the handsome stranger from earlier.

“I think you come here more than you’re letting on,” Rex says.

“Sue me,” you hum.

Rex crosses the distance to reach you. He’s handsome, face lit up by the fairy lights and backlit by the door he emerges from. There’s a nice chisel to his face that hints at the rations that fill his diet. In the darkness, his eyes are a glinting brown.

Flicking open your cigarette case, you withdraw a cigarette and place the white butt between your lips. Immediately, red lipstick rings around it. Your lighter lands in your hand, with the same pearl sheen as your case. You illuminate the tip of the cigarette, casting your face in the glow of the handheld fire.

The light shuts off abruptly.

You exhale away from his face.

“Oh, I never introduced myself, did I?” You pull your cigarette away from your face to examine the tip and make sure it’s burning smoothly. Then, you follow through on your words and let your name tumble from your lips.

Rex does so in turn. It’s nice to meet you, as he tells you in turn, repeating your name on his tongue to try it out. The syllables flow nicely, more than he’s used to. There’s an antique ring that he’s a fan of.

You take another drag of your cigarette. “It’s fitting. Your name.”

Rex can’t help but chuckle at the truth behind your words. It does fit, doesn’t it? Almost as if it had been picked out for him. Still, it warms him that you like it. That you enjoy the one thing he’s picked out for himself.

“I saw you staring earlier,” You say. “Do you dance?”

“It’s not for me. I just like watching.”

Your lashes skim down your cheeks again as you look him up and down. The sheer sparkle over your lids is becoming a treasure. When they return their gaze to his own eyes, your brow is raised in question. Lots of men like watching.

“What kinds of things do you like watching?”

Shit. What kinds of things does he like watching? His mind goes blank, and his lips supply the one thing he can think of right now, because an example is standing right before him: “Pretty women.”

“Oh?” You feel your face warm slightly. Flattery. You have to hold off from asking if you’re one of the pretty women he likes looking at.

“Don’t get to very often. Always a nice, good thing when I do.”

“What keeps you from it?”

“The war.” There’s a lot of admittance coming from his lips. It feels strange on his chest. Like there’s a slurping on his soul he can’t tell if he should lean into or avoid.

You hum. Another drag of the cigarette. “Scary times we live in, isn’t it?”

Rex wishes he was better at asking questions. His tongue feels too big for his mouth. “Hopefully you don’t get too close to it.”

“I suppose I don’t.” You pull the cigarette away from your face and place it before you, checking the burn on the tip before raising it back up again. Your arm crosses your chest to support your cigarette elbow, and it presses your chest together. Rex’s eyes dip for just a moment. “Closest I get is asking Gungans for art to hang in the museums.”

“What puts you in that situation?”

“I’m a curator for the National Art Museum. We’re actually celebrating tonight. You into art?”

“I don’t get the chance for it very often.” Only art he had was the jaig eyes on his helmet. He had painted those on, long ago. Taped down the area around them and used an airbrush. Sometimes he’d find Tup drawing in the common area during downtime. Tup liked portraits– sketched anyone and everyone he saw in ballpoint pen. Rex wouldn’t deem his exposure ‘museum worthy.’

“That’s a shame. Don’t dance, don’t look at art, don’t even get to look at pretty women.” You shake your head. “I feel bad for you, Rex.”

“Don’t,” Rex says. “‘S just part of the job.”

“Still. Maybe this is why–”

You’re cut off by the door to the rooftop jostling open. A large figure fills the space, calling out.

“Rex? We’re going to another bar. You ready to go?”

From the cadence, Rex can recognize the voice as Kix. “I’ll catch up later.”

“Right.” Kix pauses, and then makes an exaggerated movement across his lips, as if he was zipping them shut and locking them. He even throws away the key. Rex’s eyes crinkle with a small smile and he waves him off.

The door shuts firmly behind Kix.

“You sure you don’t have to leave?” You ask, slipping your bag from your shoulder.

“Nah. See them everyday.”

Flashing him a smile, you reach inside your purse and produce a tin. You pop it open and place a mint on your tongue. Rex’s eyes follow your fingers intently. “Want one?” You offer.

Rex almost denies. Why must he take more? Instead, he goes along with it, nodding.

“Open your mouth.”

Rex does so. You place the little white mint on his tongue, a small smile on your lips. The muscle flutters slightly.

“Come dancing with me,” You whisper. “I don’t care that you can’t.” Your eyes flit down to his hands, which rest clasped together before you. They’re large, the nails wide. You glance up at him, and lean in slightly. You smell like cigarettes and mint, not something that Rex would ever think he’d like. “I want you to put your hands on my body.”

The sharp breath Rex takes is invigorated by the mint. He almost swallows the small, white candy.

“Yeah?” You ask, smiling widely at him. “Or do you want to stay up here and talk for a little longer?”

Rex swallows. He bets his brothers are gone– Hardcase had probably been begging to leave since he was rejected. Rex glances down your dress again, then to your hips.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you hum, catching his lingering gaze. You slip your hand between his, separating them from their clasp. His fingers are calloused against yours, signs of hard work over every smooth surface. You slip your fingers between his. “Just follow me.”

Rex does check to see if his brothers are still present. Luckily, the corner is empty. Free of them. He feels his shoulders loosen as he follows you over to where your friends are sitting. A giggle rises in your throat as you toss your bag beside one of your friends, flippantly telling her you were going dancing. Happily, the ones around the table titter upon seeing you with a man in tow. You reach over and take a sip of her drink, laughing when you’re whacked on the hip for your thievery.

Dancing you do go. You lead Rex to the outskirts of the dance floor, somewhere where he can still breathe. Taking Rex’s hands within your own, you place them on your body. The one that wraps around your hip practically engulfs the bone. His other does the same to your hand.

“I promise, no one is watching,” you say, “And I won’t take it personally if you step on my toes.”

“I’ll take it personally if I do,” Rex says. His eyes leave yours for a moment, and land on one of your friends, who is, in fact, busy watching. Quickly, he returns his gaze to you. You’re gazing up at him, a faint smile on your lips and a faint sway in your body.

Rex looks at his feet once you start moving, genuinely worried he’d step on your toes. He fills the space as your feet leave them, and you gently turn him to make a small circle with your box steps.

“Keep your eyes up here, on me,” you murmur over the music. Your hand slides to rest on his chest, and his on your shoulder. Rex’s eyes immediately flash back up from your feet. “Let’s go a little faster.” Your gazes are locked too close to each other. It’s all mint and smoke and a spice that Rex can’t place. Maybe it’s your perfume.

Rex keeps up much better than you had thought. He keeps himself nearly pressed against you, with just enough room for the rise and fall of your chests to fill.

“You’re doing really good,” you whisper, the complement washing over Rex. “Want to spin me?”

“I don’t know if I can,” Rex murmurs in reply.

“It’s easy. Just pause and let me spin and we’ll pick right back up,” you instruct. “It’ll be easy.”

It is. Your fingers glide against each other as you turn, Rex’s hand sliding across your waist as you spin. It electrifies when it crosses over your naked lower back. You settle back into the rhythm of the music, grinning up at Rex.

And oh, suddenly he doesn’t care about your friends staring at the two of you.

“You’re a natural.”

The sweet words swell Rex’s chest with pride. After all, his body is good at doing what it’s told to do. And you’re much more attractive than any general who’s ever given him orders.

Under your gentle and enticing guidance, Rex gets it, to some degree. Understands the rhythm to some degree, as long as your hands and encouraging words were nudging him along. Gotten to understand your body to some degree, smell your perfume and feel your chest press against his.

“I want a drink,” you state.

“Let me get you one,” Rex replies.

“You misunderstand.” Your hand rests over Rex’s chest, right over his heart. It’s not beating as quickly as you would have expected it to after the cardio of dance he had just participated in. “I want a drink at home.”

“It’s late out, let me walk you there.” The response is natural, easygoing. Second nature.

“I hope you do. I hope you join me, too.”

Oh.

“Yes ma’am.”

You grace him with one of those near kisses he’d witnessed earlier when he was just watching. It feels completely different to be on the receiving end– To have your breath almost mingle with his.

The walk to your apartment isn’t too far. It’s close enough that Rex can see why you’d frequent the bar so often– It was barely a walk and you seemed to enjoyed dancing. He wondered, just for a moment, if he was just another part of your normal Friday nights. Work, dance, bring someone home.

Secretly, he hopes he’s an exception.

The gate to the apartment’s courtyard squeaks as it opens. Rex reaches over you and pushes it the rest of the way. The movement has you engulfed in the scent of soap and the hint of sweat. You find yourself taking another breath.

“What a gentleman.” You throw a smile over to him as you step in.

Within the safety of your apartment, you discard your purse on the small table in the entryway. Flip on the lamp that reads there as well. It fills the small area with a warm, orange glow.

“Take your shoes off,” you say, placing a hand on the table for balance as you lift a foot behind you to fiddle with the straps.

“Here,” Rex says, voice soft and rolling in the small space. “Let me help you.”

He drops down. His fingers are large against the soft leather straps and the small metal buckle. There’s half a thought to press a kiss to your knee, half covered by the asymmetrical hem of your dress, but he refrains. He stands and dutifully takes off his own shoes.

With a heavy gaze, you look Rex up and down again. He’s a head tilt taller than you now, not in your heels anymore. He seems to take up more space now, too. Now that he’s somewhere so personal.

You slide into your slippers and pad through the apartment, leading him towards the main living area. Each lamp is flicked on manually, which surprises Rex. Most buildings were designed to be easily controlled by one central data pad.

The warm light is a stark contrast to the fluorescents he’s used to. So is the atmosphere of your living room.

Tall, cream ceilings with windows to match. There’s a balcony, which is locked shut by a heavy brass contraption. The sofa and chair are thick with cushioning, and the coffee and end tables appear antique.

Rex follows you into the kitchen. Another small space, where he finds himself closer than ever to you. The tile is cool through his socks, an intricate design in shades of cream.

“Do you want wine or beer?” You ask, opening up the refrigerator.

“Beer, please,” he replies.

You produce two from the fridge. They clink together as you hold them by their necks in one hand. As you turn, you’re met with the view of Rex leaning against your counter. It’s a far cry from most of your… visitors, who make themselves at home on your couch the moment they enter.

You like this change of pace.

“Want to sit inside or outside?”

“Where do you want to sit?”

“Outside,” You admit.

“Then outside.”

You smile. Rex simultaneously wants to never stop watching the pull of your lips and break the smile with a kiss.

On the balcony, you flick on some more lights, illuminating the area until the darkness of the night consumes the rays. There’s a small table for eating, and a couch. Beside the couch is an elaborate glass hookah set up that you’re quick to move aside.

Taking a seat on the couch, you pat the spot beside you for Rex. You hand him his beer as soon as he’s sat.

Facing him fully, you rest your arm on the back of the couch.

“You said you never danced before, but I have a hard time believing that,” You say.

Rex takes a pull of beer for confidence. “What makes you say that?”

“You were a lot better than I was expecting.”

“Glad I could defy expectations.” There’s a glint in Rex’s eyes that the light accentuates.

Humming, you pose your next question. “Is this your first time on Naboo?”

Rex can’t help but chuckle. He’s by far no stranger to Naboo, but typically spends his days stationed within the capitol building. “No, but it’s the first time I’ve been truly off duty here.”

“And? What are your thoughts?”

“I have no complaints.” Rex flits his eyes down your body. “Have certainly had a change in expectations for the night.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head to the side. “What were your original expectations?”

“I…” Rex’s voice gets lost as his eyes wander, watching your lips form to take a sip from the bottle. The way your fingers wrap around the glass. “Definitely not this.”

You hum, and it makes a reverberating sound through the glass. “This?”

“Something not so rowdy. I was expecting rowdiness.”

“Tell me more,” you urge, leaning into him.

Rex’s heart flutters uncharacteristically in his chest. He swallows. Your perfume has a spice to it that he’s never smelt before.

“My brothers and I have the night off, so we went out. They’re… A lot. Don’t always think things through.” They deserve not to, Rex thinks, at least when they’re off duty.

You laugh. “I think I can tell. Two of them tried picking up my friends.”

“I must apologize for them.”

“Don’t. It was funny.” You reach over, into his space, and run your fingers over his buzz cut. “Are you a natural blonde?”

Rex glances over at your bracelet, which dangles precariously on your wrist.

“Yeah.” The touch of your fingers feels good. Soft and gentle.

“I was blonde when I was a baby,” you comment.

“I think the brown suits you.”

“You’re sweet.”

Rex hums. You withdraw your hand. “You don’t get out much, do you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

You smile. “Perhaps. What keeps you in?”

“Work.”

Taking another pull of your beer, you tilt your head to the side. “You know I’m going to ask you what you do.”

“Nothing fancy. I’m just a soldier.” Rex picks at lint that’s not there on his pants. “For the Republic,” he tacks on.

“Oh.” You take another drink of beer. “Can I be honest with you?”

“You’re going to be, anyways.” He gladly anticipates whatever truth you’re about to share with him.

“I’m a pacifist.”

Rex muddles the words around for a moment. “I think I’d be one too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Would have to think on it a little bit more but… Between you and me, I’m ready for it to be over.”

“I bet. I think you’re too handsome to be a soldier, anyways.”

Rex feels his face warm. It feels like a compliment just for him. Not one to be shared.

“You don’t think there should be soldiers.” There’s no heat to his words. Perhaps, in another life, he’d agree.

“Please, I’m trying to call you handsome. Will you please accept my compliment?”

“I’ll accept it.” Rex takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

This time, a warmth spreads across your cheeks. You take a final drink of your beer. The metal end table you’re aiming for is on Rex’s side. Instead of passing the bottle to him, you completely lean over him. He gets a good, long look down your back. His hand has half a mind to run down the expanse, to dip into the valley of your spine and run over the swell of your ass.

You pause in front of him as you settle back.

“Tell me, Rex,” his name slides off your tongue, “What would you do if I kissed you right now?”

Rex’s eyes drop from yours to your lips. “I’d be very thankful.”

You inch your face closer. “Would you kiss me back?”

What a ridiculous question. Rex responds by setting his beer down and sliding his chilled hand through your hair, resting it at the nape of your neck.

A shiver trickles down your spine.

Rex’s lips are on yours. Warm, confident, slightly chapped.

You rest your palm on his chest. His heart thrums away beneath. One of his hands comes to rest on your hip, thumb smoothing back and forth over the fabric.

Your tongue slides across his bottom lip. His mouth opens, tongue sliding alongside yours in wet heat. Easing yourself against him, you twist your body to take a seat on his lap. It’s sideways, your dress won’t let you straddle him. Instead, your legs are tucked up next to him.

His hand slides down the smoothness of your legs, down to your ankle before up again. He continues his journey upwards, to your waist and your open back, playing with the low dip of your dress.

You allow your head to lull into the hand that supports you there. Rex presses into the kiss, nose pushed against your cheek. As your tongues pass each other again, you don’t know where yours ends and his starts.

Rex kisses like he’s drinking water. Like the quench to his thirst rests in your lips, in the slick of your saliva. There’s a thrumming building in your core, right where your soul lies.

Your heart aches for him as you pull away and he chases your lips. His eyes flutter open, blinking amber into the dim light.

“Hey,” he says, voice rolling over roughness. There’s a faint hint of red from your lipstick over your lips.

“Hi,” you reply, a little lilt and giggle to your voice. You wonder if your alleged kiss-proof lipstick had shifted.

There’s a lazy, pleased smile working its way across Rex’s mouth.

“Want to follow me inside?”

“Gods, yes I do.”

You slip off of his lap and onto your own two feet. Leaning down, you take Rex’s hands in your own and pull him up to his full height.

“Lead on, gorgeous,” Rex says, dipping back down to get another taste of your lips.

The door to your bedroom is wide open. You fumble for some more lights, slipping around the room to turn most of them on. There isn’t much in your bedroom: only a bed with a large, wooden headboard, an armoire that’s as old as the building, and a vanity you found at a flea market. A few paintings of deities Rex doesn’t recognize hang on the walls in dark wood frames. With the lights dim and warm, you come back to stand before Rex, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands settle on your hips, then slip to your lower back.

“You don’t need to be so polite,” you murmur, sliding your hands down his chest and further, fingers dancing along the hemline of his shirt.

“Feel like I gotta. Not everyday…” he trails off, distracted by the feeling of your fingers, slightly cold, dancing up under his shirt. You don’t go far, just enough to feel over the v of his abdomen.

“Not everyday…” you encourage.

“‘S not important,” Rex decides on. It’s not. You don’t need to know he rarely does this. That his experience here isn’t to his normal standard. He ducks his head, pressing his lips back against yours, walking you towards the bed.

Your teasing question dies in Rex’s mouth, swallowed by every slick pass of your lips opening and closing on each other. The backs of your knees hit the edge of your made bed, and you fall back on it.

Unfortunately, Rex doesn’t come with you. Instead, he stands before you and between your legs, hesitation momentarily seeping across his face. You sit up and lean back on your hands, the way your shoulders move causing one of the dress straps to slip.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, tilting your head so it rests on your shoulder.

“Nothing,” Rex says, pulling his shirt off over his head.

He’s quick to lean back over you, doesn’t give you much time to admire the planes of his pectorals, or the almost-defined abdomen he has. Wants to drive your attention away from the scars that litter his skin. His knees dip in the duvet, and you spread your own to accommodate him. As your dress rides up, his gaze follows the fabric, which still leaves you modest.

Rex is consuming above you, taking up every aspect of your vision. Your hands run over his shoulders, defined and firm, down his arms, defined and firm. His muscles are carved like the statues you select for showcases. It causes a giddy, girlish giggle to bubble up from your lungs.

“What’s so funny?” Rex murmurs.

You shake your head, hand moving back to cup his face. “Nothing. You’re just… You’re so muscle-y.”

Rex blinks at you, once. Then he ducks his head, a smile forming. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You think you might have dreamed him up once before. With your eyes shut, and a hand in between your thighs, the moon high in the sky. “Yeah.”

Rex’s lips find the pulse point you apply your perfume to, licking over what remains of vanilla beans and spice. Your hand rests upon the back of his head, a sigh leaving your lips. He sucks and laves lavishly, never leaning his full body weight against you. A trail is formed, from jaw to shoulder, as he nips and kisses.

Shrugging your shoulder again, the other strap of your dress is encouraged to slide off as well. The fabric of your dress continues to keep you modest, despite Rex’s kisses continuing over the plane of your exposed breast.

He lifts his head, meeting your gaze.

“May I?” He asks.

And to think he’ll ship back off after tonight. You nod, sliding the straps down so your arms are freed from them. Your nipples, erect and wanting, stubbornly keep the garment up, coming between them and their desire.

Delicately, Rex slides your dress down to your hips. A punched out whine mews from the back of his throat at the exposed skin. It’s equally unbecoming, for him, and attractive, for you. With his hands firmly on your waist, he lowers his head further and swipes a long line across your nipple.

Your nails scratch along his shorn hair, a breathy sigh leaving your lips. You’ve missed the feeling of a mouth on you, and Rex’s is wet and eager. His tongue swirls around the fat of your nipple, slurping around it with obscenity.

Rex wonders how your nails will feel digging into his back.

You push against his forehead, and his lips detach with a pop! His cheeks are ruddy, his eyes wide, filled with worry he’d done something wrong.

“Take off my dress,” You breathe, sitting up on your elbows. Glancing down, you take in your chest, and the array of splotches that decorate your chest and breasts.

Rex swallows and nods. He slips back off the bed, and undresses you with careful, steady hands. An open mouthed sigh leaves his lips as he has you bare before him, only in your underwear. Mindlessly, he uses his hands to messily fold the dress before throwing it on top of a chair in the corner of your room.

Rex’s back swells with the size of his breath. His eyes dart all over you, unable to find just one place to land.

You tap the side of his thigh with your pointed toes. “You doing okay up there, handsome?”

“Yes ma’am,” Rex breathes. He bends down to press a kiss to your stomach, nipping at the soft skin there. When he falls to his knees between your legs, you know it’s over. There’s never been someone through your door like this.

Rex sucks deep kisses into the fat of your thighs, over all the sensitive bits. Your hands slide over his hair, nails scratching against the short hair without purchase.

Mouth centimeters away from your clothed pussy, Rex glances up the mountains and valleys of your body. He speaks your name, calling your attention down towards him.

He doesn’t even need to ask, before you’re breathing a “Yes, yes, yes.”

Instead of sliding your panties to the side, or removing them completely, Rex swipes his tongue along the already wet fabric. You can feel the edges of his tongue over the areas of your labia that try their hardest to eat your underwear whenever you’re out. Rex seems insistent on tasting you through the silken fabric, his nose pressed up against your covered mound.

Your hands leave the back of his head and hook under your panties, trying to push them down. As your hips rise off the bed, his hands wrap around your thighs and pull you closer.

“Rex, let me, let you…”

He pulls off with a sigh. His eyes are slightly glazed over, and you want nothing more than to pull him up for a kiss.

“Is it okay?” He asks.

“Give me your hands,” You urge. He offers them to you without second thought.

Contorting your hand, you gain control of his right hand and dip his fingers past your panties, so they slip behind the flimsy fabric. Rex sucks in a breath, fingers sliding through nothing but warmth.

“Right?” You release his hands and tuck your fingers under the waistband of your panties and slide them down until the top of your mound is visible.

Rex slides them down and off you, and you reward him with a fair piece of praise: “Good boy.”

Rex stills above you. His eyes trail up the line of your body and land on your face. Your brows furrow. “What is it?”

“Never heard that one before,” Rex replies.

“Really?” You find that hard to believe. With a man like this?

Rex nods. He slides his fingers through the silk of your cunt, collecting your wetness on his fingers and sliding it up over your clit. You gasp, hand coming up over your mouth.

“Don’t do that,” Rex murmurs, reaching a hand up to wrap around your forearm, easing your hand away from your face. He replaces your hand with his thumb, swiping over the smearing red lipstick.

There’s a brief moment where he doesn’t move from his gaze, where he just lingers over you.

Then, without warning, his fingers are moving again. They’re slipping through your folds, and he’s lowering himself back down to the side of your bed again. His lips join his fingers, as if it was second nature. Breathing.

His fingers part your folds for his tongue, which traces opening to clit, in a long pull. Rex’s eyes flutter shut, savoring the tang on his tongue. His lips close around your clit, laving attention over the sensitive bud.

Little gasps pop from your lips, and Rex’s ears twitch to pick up each one. There’s a firmness in his pants that’s veering on uncomfortable, and his body shifts to apply underwhelming friction.

There’s nothing but warmth and attention in your core. Waves of pleasure lap at your shore, tides pushed and pulled by Rex’s attention.

Rex lifts his head. He wants to watch your facial expressions as his middle finger slides through your wetness. As it presses against your entrance, which all but sucks him in. A contented sigh slips through your lips, and Rex rises up your body to press his lips back against yours. His tongue slides against yours with the same pace as his finger, easing you deeper into the bedspread.

Your legs bend so your knees brush against his sides. Leaning back, Rex’s hand rests on your knee, gently moving it to the side to give him a better view of how his finger moves in and out, of the whiteness that clings to his finger.

He slides out completely, then wets his ring finger to join. At the welcome intrusion, you stretch your arms back above your head, pulling your stomach taunt. Rex’s fingers coax within you, searching for the perfect spot to press upon.

You shift your hips slightly, and a sigh leaves your lips when he grazes upon the spongiest part within you. Rex curls his fingers, and a breathy moan leaves your lips.

Satisfied, Rex ducks his head back down. His fingers find purchase on your mound, exposing the flushed wetness of your clit. His tongue works in unison with his fingers, flicking over the bud.

The tides within you swell. Subconsciously, your legs close in around Rex’s head, swallowing him closed like an oyster. Your hips shift, rising and rolling in synchronization with his fingers. Up and down, up into the warmth, down into the pleasure.

“Rex…” you breathe, fingers grazing against his head.

He hums into you, eyes opening and watching as your hand slides along your stomach, nails creating little deltas along the flesh.

Your thigh quivers beside him. Moans rise from your mouth, floating into the heady air.

Temptation to speed up, to intensify swirl around in Rex’s mind. To elicit louder cries, to encourage the small of your back to lift off the bed. Instead, he keeps his course steady, eyes fluttering shut once more.

There’s another weak call of his name, laced in between a moan. Rex groans, content to do nothing more than hear it again. He’s listening, he promises he’s listening. He can feel the tightness building, can hear nothing but the slick sounds emitting from where he’s dipped inside you.

The final crest over is prolonged. Arched back, complete stillness, whimpering moan. Hands fisted in the bedsheets. Rex slows his movements, detaching his mouth first.

He hovers above you, lazily moving his fingers. Your legs continue to quiver, your chest continues to suck in deep breaths. Your eyes crack open, a hand lazily rising to tug on his dog tags, pulling him down and closer to you.

You slot your lips against his. There’s wetness and tang and a rapidly familiar warmth. You hold him close by the side of his face, feeling his jaw move with each swipe.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips.

“Don’t thank me,” Rex replies, pressing another kiss to your lips. His fingers withdraw with a slickness, and he’s careful to not set them on your bedsheets.

You give a non committal hum. Reaching for his hand, you bring it to your lips, licking a stripe along the underside before taking them into your mouth. Your tongue laves over the digits, sucking every drop of your essence off of them.

When Rex withdraws his hand, his eyes are wide. There’s a beat of your breaths, before his lips are on yours again. He plunders your mouth, chasing after the taste he was planning on enjoying himself.

You slide up your bed, until your head is comfortably pillowed. A groan slips from you, when you see that Rex is still wearing pants.

“That can’t be comfortable, can it be?”

You watch with rapt attention as he slides his pants off and down along with his boxers. Your next breath hitches in your throat when you get a good look at his cock.

Heavy. Seated among a thatch of thick, dark hair that trails up to his bellybutton.

You swallow. Then, you reach over and fumble within your nightstand, pushing aside lube and vibrators for the box of condoms that was in there.

“Come here,” you beckon, patting the space beside you. Rex crawls on the bed beside you, shoulders rippling in the lamplight. His thighs are decorated in thatches of hair that thicken as they near his groin.

He settles between your thighs, hands moving over the smooth skin.

“You’re beautiful,” Rex murmurs. His hands engulf your thighs, sliding upwards to where they crease into your core.

Spellbound by the reverent tone of voice, you slide your legs apart for him, revealing the very place he had just been. His eyes dip down, then up to your chest. His brows furrow, seeing the little marks he had left in his wake.

One of his hands rises, fingers gliding over a hickey on the side of your breast. “My apologies about this.”

“Oh, Rex,” you coo, covering your hand over his, “There is absolutely no need to apologize. In fact, you can even leave more.”

Rex’s eyes search yours, discovering nothing but lust. Pupils blown wide.

Cupping his face in your hands, you pull him closer for another kiss. His hardness slides between your folds as he presses close, and he groans into your mouth. Long, drawn out. Pent up.

“Feel good?” You widen your legs for him. His cock slides along your clit, rubbing against it deliciously. You hum in pleasure.

Another moan slides from his lips. You reach between the two of you, fingers carding through his happy trail as you follow it to his hardness. He’s heavy in your hand. Your fingers dance along the underside, cutting between his heat and your own. You thumb slides over the flushed tip of his cock, and another groan comes from Rex, this time directly in your ear.

Your core squeezes. You feel a dribble of wetness slide from your hole.

Removing your hand, you gently push him back and away from you. Rex goes easily, all too quickly. You tear a condom off and pass it to him.

Rex dutifully takes it. There’s little fanfare as he wraps himself up, sliding the latex on.

You push him back again, giving him a little nudge on the chest. Situated on his back, you climb over his hips, dragging his cock back through your folds. Rex’s eyes flutter shut before they snap back open.

“Don’t want to keep you from watching,” You reply with a breathy laugh.

“Wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.” Rex gives you a handsome half smile that makes your mind stutter.

You return the smile, through slightly smeared lipstick, and rise up on your knees. Rex finds his cock for you, and your fingers pass over each other as you take it in your hand. The head presses against your entrance, which flutters at the pressure.

Biting your bottom lip, you let gravity ease you down. One of Rex’s thighs rests propped up behind you, the other turned open. He offers you his hands for you to hold onto resting against so you don’t slip down his cock too quickly.

Once fully sheathed, you give yourself a moment to adjust to the fullness within you. Your hips begin rolling slowly, warming yourself up even more. A punched out whine comes from behind your bitten lip.

Rex’s brows are pinched together as he watches, mouth open and lips in a wide ‘o.’ He lets you grind against him, lets you start to shallowly bounce yourself up and down on him, lets you take your pleasure into your hands for a few minutes. It’s pleasurable, combined with the little moans that you’re letting out, but it’s not enough.

His hands find your hips, and he braces his feet against the bed, knees up. With little effort, he lifts you up to the head of his cock before pulling you back down. For the next pass, he’s sure to thrust his hips up to meet you halfway.

The look on your face is a mixture between pleasure and shock. It doesn’t take you long to get on board with the change of pace. Your hand presses over your stomach, so you can feel Rex as he slides in and out of you, and you make sure to hug his cock with every pass. From your vantage point you watch as all of his muscles move in harmony with each other. Your core squeezes. A ring of white begins to form on the base of Rex’s cock.

With your hips as purchase, Rex pulls himself up into a seated position. Immediately, you lock your ankles behind his back. He chuckles as he leans in to kiss you, pressing you back against the pillows again. One of his hands supports your lower back, the other on your thigh.

You look at him through your lashes. His own pupils are blown wide.

“I’m not very good at sitting back,” Rex murmurs.

“Thank goodness,” you hum, hands running over the planes of his shoulders.

“Thank goodness?” Rex repeats, slowly sliding out before pushing in even slower. At this angle, you can feel every centimeter as it's fed into you. “Why’s that?”

“Um…” You can’t exactly think through your comment.

“Tell me,” Rex urges, continuing the slow thrusts.

“I just… I don’t… I like…” How deep is he?

“What do you like?”

“I like… I like working with… With gravity…”

Rex slowly picks up the pace. He hikes your body up, giving your knees no place to notch but over his shoulders.

“With gravity?”

You whimper your affirmation.

“Is this better?” Rex’s hands move from your hips to your thighs, holding them flush against his chest. When you nod, he moves to press your legs back, so they’re butterflied away from your cunt. “Or do you prefer this?”

Your reply is a moan. One of your hands cover’s Rex’s splayed fingers, the other reaches above your head for your pillow. A breathless chuckle leaves Rex’s lips, and he continues to keep a steady pace. Each thrust you can feel in your throat with how deep he’s pressing– you didn’t know you could feel anything that deep within you.

It’s full. Almost too full. Your cunt flutters around his cock, anticipating and rewarding every stroke.

Your hand is on the way to cover your mouth, but Rex is faster. He slips his fingers through yours, pressing your hand into the plush of your pillows. Your other hand reaches up to cup behind his head, sprawling out over the nape of his neck. As your lips reattach to his, his thrusts fluster before speeding up, giving you no choice but to pull away to let out a moan.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe. One of Rex’s hands comes to knead the soft tissue of your breast.

It leaves its work quickly, however, to spare attention towards your clit. As his thumb swipes over the bundle of nerves, an even louder moan climbs out through your throat. Your thighs shake, and your hands rise to press against your headboard.

Rex almost feels bad. He’s going too fast, he’s going too hard, your headboard is millimeters away from knocking against the wall with each rhythmic push of his hips. But your face is contorted in pleasure, eyes screwed shut and head tilted back.

Your eyes flash open as you feel your orgasm rapidly approaching.

“Rex,” You gasp.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Rex asks, leaning over you. “You gonna cum?”

You whine. There’s another thrall of pleasure at the pet name.

“Tell me,” Rex urges. His lips hover over yours.

“Yeah,” You breathe, the vowels hitching with every thrust. “Don’t– Don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Rex gives you a grin before a grunt, trying his hardest to keep a steady pace. He’s throbbing, you can feel the twitch of his cock inside you.

Your orgasm spills over and out, rippling from your moans down to your cum. As you peak, Rex’s thrusts speed up for a brief moment, then still, as he empties with a groan into the condom. Your legs feel gummy, weak and heavy as Rex eases out of you and rests your shaking legs on the bed. The sweat on his shoulders glazes in the light as he cleans up.

You gesture to the bathroom, which is attached to your bedroom. Closing your eyes, you listen as Rex throws the condom away, then as cabinets open and close.

“In the closet,” You call, voice lighter and higher than you’d ever heard it.

Rex returns with a damp, warm washcloth as he removes the last traces of sex from between your legs. He presses a kiss to your knee, a little too soft for a hook up but makes your stomach flip regardless, before getting back off the bed.

When you crack open your eyes, you see that he’s pulling on his pants. You sit up on your elbow.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“I figured you’d want me out of your hair,” Rex replies.

You pout. “Come lay with me for a moment, at least.”

Rex hesitates. You rub the bedding beside you. “Just for a moment. And then I’m going to go take off my makeup.”

Rex obliges. He slides into the spot and you rest your head on his chest. His arms wrap around you, thick and secure. You exhale, relaxing into him. Maybe you should have taken off your makeup first, then you could rope him into spending the night. Absentmindedly, you card your fingers through his chest hair. His hand begins to rub up and down your back.

“Normally I insist people spend the night,” you murmur against his skin, eyes slipping shut. He hums to show he’s listening. “I like it.”

“I gotta be gone real early in the morning,” Rex replies. His voice rumbles through his chest.

“That’s a shame.”

“Why?”

“Was going to make you breakfast. I have avocados that need using… eggs that need frying… coffee that needs drinking… I just got new coffee cups…” Your words begin to slur together from sleepiness.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Rex says, jostling his shoulder slightly.

You hum, raising your eyebrows.

“Go take that makeup off.” He sits up, bringing you with him. His eyes glance down at your nipples, which are soft in the heady air.

“Right,” you say, climbing over him and off the bed. “Don’t slip out.”

“I’ll stay right here,” Rex promises.

Rex doesn’t leave in the middle of the night. Instead, he’s under the softest sheets and the heaviest blanket he’s ever experienced, with the fan on high and a naked woman next to him, tucked up under his arm and sleeping soundly. He finds sleep doesn’t evade him as easily as it normally does.

Morning comes too soon. Rex wakes to the birds chirping outside, to the early streaks of dawn as she streams through your window. He’s still on his back, arm thrown over his head. The pillows are too soft. Beside him, you’re still mercifully asleep. Back exposed, arms wrapped around your pillow. Nose tucked into your bicep.

Shit. Rex has to leave. He glances over at your sleeping figure again, then slowly sits up. Despite trying his hardest not to disturb you, he’s unsuccessful. You stir beside him, shifting around and sitting up on your elbow, rubbing your eye.

“Hey.” Rex’s voice is rough in the morning air. “I gotta get going.”

You huff a sigh and flop onto your side. “Give me a second. I’ll make you coffee.”

“I really can’t stay,” Rex says. He keeps his hands to himself– The lustful era of the evening had been left before the sunrise. It wouldn’t be to his morals if he laid a hand, no matter how soft, against your skin.

You’re lifting yourself back up, duvet slipping down to your middle. “No, I– Let me.”

Rex’s eyes dip down to your breasts before back to your face. He’s already out of the bed. “I have to get back.”

“A cup of coffee isn’t going to kill you,” you insist, sliding out of the bed. You head over to your armoire, pulling an oversized sleep shirt out.

“Really, I appreciate the hospitality,” Rex repeats, pulling on his pants. “But—”

Rex’s protests land him sitting at the kitchen table, gaze torn between watching you make coffee and the view out the window he’s beside. You have a really nice view, overlooking Theed. However, you are also a really nice view.

With the fridge open, you pluck a carton out of it and set it on the table.

“I only have plant milk,” you say, “Hope it’s okay.”

“Oh, I drink my coffee black,” Rex says.

You blink at him. “You know, you look like you do.”

Rex hums. He watches appreciatively as you pour two mugs of coffee.

“Where do you have to be this morning?” You ask while handing him a mug and taking a seat beside him. You do not take your coffee black, and look like you don’t anyways.

Rex murmurs his thanks as he accepts the mug. He takes a sip before responding. The real answer is that he needs to be back at the ship before General Kenobi notices General Skywalker’s absence, and Rex is included in the “You know, Anakin, it’s important to remain focused on our missions at hand” spiel. Instead, he gives you: “Work. Before that I have to make sure everyone’s made it back from their nights.”

You desperately want to ask him if he’s one of those fabled clones that the Republic breeds. But it feels too personal. Too out of pocket. Instead, you settle on changing the topic entirely.

“You know, you have very distinguished features.”

Rex raises an eyebrow at you. “Pardon me?”

“Like… your nose and your eyebrows and your jaw.” You trace the features on your own face. “You look kind of like…” You remember that Rex had mentioned he didn’t have time for art the night prior, “Well, there’s this painting of a philosopher named Diogenes. You resemble him, but without the beard and the hair.”

It’s the strangest, and most detailed, compliment Rex has ever received. “Thank you?”

You hum, taking a sip of your coffee. “It is a compliment, by the way. He’s handsome in the painting.”

Rex takes another drink of coffee. It’s stronger than he’s used to, for sure. The stuff on the ship must be watered down to accommodate so many drinkers, and after tasting this cup, he’s not sure the coffee he’s used to is actually coffee. “What about you? Are you doing anything today?”

“No, I have the day off.”

Must be nice. “What are you going to do with it?”

You drum your fingers on the side of your mug. “Paint, probably. Maybe go for a walk. Practice my Gunganese.”

What a life of leisure. First, there’s an ache of jealousy that stokes itself deep within Rex. By tonight, he’ll be in a debriefing meeting about a planet that’s fallen under Separatist control. Then, it’s washed away with the reminder that he’s designed to allow for people like you to have lives of leisure. That life isn’t for him.

“I don’t know any humans who speak Gunganese,” Rex comments.

You sigh. “That’s the whole issue. The Gungans have been here long before humans and yet no one really speaks their language. I’ve been learning to try and at least smooth things over in a cultural sense. They have such a rich history with fascinating art pieces that I really want displayed in the museum, so people can learn more about them.”

Rex raises his eyebrows. The only Gungan he knows is Senator Binks who is… If Rex will allow himself a moment of selfishness, not his favorite person to be assigned duty to. “That’s quite noble of you.”

“It’s the least I can do.” You shrug.

“You speak any other languages?”

“My Rodian is really rusty. I took it in school, so I can write essays but my conversational isn’t very good. What about you?”

“Kaminoan.”

Your brows raise. “Really? What does it sound like?”

Rex chuckles, a little sheepish. “It’s nothing special. It’s not attractive or anything like that.”

“Rex, I literally speak Gunganese. I promise it’s probably more attractive than that.”

True. Rex clears his throat. Takes another sip of coffee. Thinks about what to say. When he sets his mug back down, he gives you a sentence. It rolls off his tongue, second nature.

It is attractive. All vowels and consonants that slide together. You cross your legs under the table.

“So, what did you say?

“That you make your coffee really strong.”

A blush rises on your cheeks. “There’s milk and sugar if you want it.”

“No, no, it’s not a bad thing,” Rex says quickly, “I like it. Really. It’s leagues better than what I normally get.”

“You’ll have to let me know the next time you’re in town,” You hum, finger tracing the mouth of your mug, “I’ll make you another cup.”

Rex’s heart tugs uncomfortably. That would be nice, wouldn’t it be?

“I don’t know when I’ll be back on Naboo,” Rex says, “But you've definitely made my visit worth more than I could have imagined.”

You hum at that, then stand from the table. You open a drawer and pull out a pad of paper, shaped in a heart, and find a pen. You scribble onto it, then tear it away.

“Here,” you say, passing the paper to him. “This is my frequency.”

There’s an x next to your name like a little kiss. Rex accepts the paper, and doesn’t bring up that there’s no way he’ll be able to contact you, not when all of his communication is heavily monitored. Instead, he tucks it into his pocket, where it feels warm against his thigh.

Rex leaves your apartment with a day-old croissant in his hand and the taste of berries and coffee lingering on his tongue. The sun seems brighter. The sky seems bluer. The birds seem to chirp in a melodic harmony. The walk back to the ship is pleasant. One that he doesn’t mind taking the long way for. After all, there are things for him to appreciate.

#captain rex x reader #by ophelia #i had to get this out of the docs it was sending me insane #pt 1 of ???

96 notes · View notes

lucy90712 · 10 months ago

Note

morning cuddles with João Felix?

A/n: this is short but I think it’s cute

WC: 1.2k Life recently has been so chaotic I have been doing so much overtime at work to finish a big project which thankfully is finally done. Joao has been really busy too with the crazy schedule of games at the start of the new season. We have been able to spend a bit of time together but it has mostly been meeting for dinner somewhere when we both have a few hours free. Don't get me wrong I love having dinner dates with Joao but what I've really been craving is just sitting at home and doing nothing with him as I know we are both so exhausted. Joao has a few days off this week as the team don't have a game for a little while but the last few days I've still had work so we still haven't seen much of each other although he has made dinner every night. I've been a little jealous of him having time off as I haven't truly had a day off in ages but finally I can actually take the weekend off after finishing my project.

Knowing I'd have the weekend off I've been really looking forward to not being woken up by an alarm and getting to sleep in. Typically I woke up at the time my alarm would go off even though I hadn't set it my body is so used to the routine that I naturally woke up way too early for my liking. As I was about to turn over and go back to sleep I felt Joao's arm move from where it was rested around my waist up to my face where he gently stroked my cheek and moved some of my hair that had gone astray over night. I turned to face him just as he opened his eyes slightly although I could tell he was still a little delirious as he kept blinking to clear his vision.

"What are you doing awake you should be sleeping in" Joao said in his morning voice

"I just woke up my body is so used to getting up at this time I just woke up naturally" I said

"Well let's go back to sleep you deserve it plus I want to cuddle with you for once" he said

"I can't say not to more sleep and cuddles" I smiled

Joao was quick to pull me as close as humanly possible and wrap his arms around me so tightly I nearly couldn't breathe. Some people would hate to cuddle like that but I love to have Joao as close as possible as we have to be apart quite often so having him close it me always feels so comforting. My head nuzzled itself into Joao's neck as it was comfy and I found myself playing the the hair on the back of his neck and head which was so soft and slightly wavy from where he'd slept on it. He gently traced shapes on my side until my eyes started to feel heavy and I drifted back off to sleep.

I was sleeping peacefully until I felt something wet all over my face in my sleep which woke me up. For a second I wondered if Floki had made his way into our bedroom but then I decided that it couldn't be as he always runs about and stands on me on in the mornings and there wasn't enough noise either. As my eyes opened I was met with Joao's face right in front of mine pressing a kiss on my nose. Once he realised that I was awake he got more aggressive with his kisses all over my face which made me giggle but then he started tickling me instead which made me laugh even harder. He knows exactly where I'm the most ticklish so of course he had to focus on those spots and tickle me until I was gasping for air. Eventually he did stop and when he did he flopped down on top of me so I used my chance to tickle him as although he says he's not ticklish he definitely is.

Once we had both stopped our assaults on each other we just laid down together with Joao resting on top of me while I played with his hair. Playing with Joao's hair is one of my favourite past times I love running my hands through it and scratching his head sometimes I put his hair up in different styles too but he often complains that it hurts when I do that. This morning I couldn't resist braiding the few stray strands of Joao's hair; for once he actually let me as he was too distracted playing with the edge of his shirt that I wore to bed.

"I don't ever want to move from this position" Joao said

"I'm happy to stay here for the rest of the day" I said

"Good because you're not going anywhere" he laughed holding me tighter

"What do you think our lives will be like in 5 years?" Joao randomly asked

"I don't know so much has changed over the last year that I would've never predicted but I'd like for us to have settled somewhere" I said

"I hope we stay here I really love it here the city and the team are so great but whatever happens as long as you're with me I know everything will be ok" he said

"What do you think our relationship will be like then?" I asked

"I'd love for us to be married and thinking about starting a family but that's only if that's what you want" he said

"I'd love to get married and have kids with you one day when the time is right" I said so he didn't get any ides just yet

"I'll wait as long as you need amor until then we can just practice" he said

That earned Joao a slap on the back of the head but he just laughed and continued to talk about life. We discussed loads of things like my ideal proposal, how our wedding would be and how many kids we would like. It was fun talking about the future with Joao, although we've talked about all of this before that was before all of the changes to our lives and things are different now plus we are older so it's good to know we are still on the same page. After talking about all of those serious topics we moved on to talking about what we are going to do with the rest of today and tomorrow as those are the only days we both have off. Both of us wanted at least one lazy day so we decided seeing as we'd spent a while in bed already today would be our day to relax.

After a while of cuddling together watching tv Joao randomly got out of bed and went downstairs. I wondered where he had gone and why until he came back upstairs holding a tray of pastries and two plates. He had ordered breakfast for us from my favourite bakery in town which we both very much enjoyed in bed. When we were done we went right back to cuddling. I think this has been my favourite day in a long time as I've missed spending time with Joao so getting to do nothing but soak up the cuddles I've missed out on is exactly what I've been craving.

#joao felix x reader #joao felix imagines #joao felix imagine #joao felix #football imagine

112 notes · View notes

mothfables · 1 year ago

Text

♡ Bunny Flops ♡ - Part Three

Here we are at the end! I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it <3

The third time it happens, they’ve found themselves in the Veteran’s home era. Several hours of walking mixed with dodging knights (making Sky and Warriors scowl) later and everyone is all too eager to crash at Legend’s house with its’ numerous soft blankets and pillows that the Vet insists he has no use for but keeps around anyway. Warriors teases him for being a hoarder but they all know how soft the seasoned hero is inside.

(Warriors also has the suspicion it also helps with Legend’s chronic pain and bad joints, but Legend would literally rather be hit over the head with a moblin club than admit such a thing. That’s fine. He’ll just ask Ravio.)

Finally, the house is in sight and Legend speeds up as much as his aching joints will allow. He can’t wait to see his orchard and his garden, to coo to Sheerow and talk with Ravio, to lay in his own bed and drink his own tea, to get up when he wants and not some ungodly hour of the morning, and and and-

And the door is opening and Ravio is there, dark curls catching the afternoon sun as he turns to see who’s coming up the road. Legend’s speedwalk turns into a half-hop, half-jog as he hurries towards his partner. Ravio gives a shout of delighted surprise and copies him.

(Legend is sure it must look very odd, to anyone who isn’t them, but they’ve always done this - since they first began to like each other as people, since they became actual friends, since they agreed to be partners, not just best friends.)

Ravi likes to joke that it’s just another bit of proof they’re each other’s mirror. ‘Rabbits in a burrow,’ he’d tease as Legend pouted.

Then Ravio is reaching for him, checking him over and tutting as he notices the newest accumulation of injuries and overall exhaustion. Legend simply leans into him, relishing in the sensation of his partner’s care. After a moment he jerks a thumb over his shoulder at the group still coming up the road behind him.

“Got room for eight more, Rav?” He smirks tiredly. Ravio titters, gently taking his arm and waving to the Chain as they make their way towards the couple.

“We’ll just be inside! You know where things are; make yourselves at home,” he calls. Then, more quietly, “Come on, bunny. Let’s get you off your feet, yeah?” Legend gives a token grumble for the show of it but follows Ravio’s lead as his partner tugs him through the door and into the house.

Once inside, Ravio leads him over to one of the plush chairs by the fireplace, waiting until Legend lowers himself into it before busying himself with lighting the fire and setting their beat-up old kettle on the stove. He pulls down Legend’s favourite mug: a slightly misshapen thing painted with apple blossoms. It had been a gift, given to him years ago, and something he treasures to this day. As the water boils, Ravio comes back over to check on his partner. Legend greets him with a tired smile before glancing at the fire, then at Ravio, hoping he’ll get the hint. He does; giving a dramatic sigh, the merchant gathers an armful of pillows and blankets and arranges them into a small - but cozy - nest before the fire.

The kettle whistles and Ravio scurries back to the kitchen, leaving Legend to drag himself out of the chair with a drawn-out groan. His limbs shake from the effort but before he can collapse Sky swoops over and catches him. The other hero helps him stumble over to the nest and down into it, then not-unkindly swats his hands away from where they fumble at the laces of his boots.

Once his boots are off Legend moves to get comfortable, rearranging the blankets to his liking as he scoots closer to the fire. At the same time, the rest of the Chain scatter around the living room as they finish settling in. Sky and Warriors sit near the nest, sharing a smile when their tired younger brother accepts their presence with nothing more than a glance and a roll of his eyes.

It doesn’t take long before Ravio reappears from the kitchen with a now-steaming mug in his hands. He hands it to Legend - making sure the other boy can hold it without trouble - before circling the nest a few times. He fluffs pillows and readjusts blankets before giving a happy hum and toes off his shoes to join Legend in the center of it.

Legend immediately leans into him, giving a contented hum of his own at the extra warmth. Ravio presses a kiss to his hair and the Vet’s eyes slip shut. “Ah ah, drink your tea first, love,” Ravio chides. Legend gives a tired whine, the sound pulling on Sky’s heartstrings. “I know, but it’ll help your joints. Come on, bunny, no falling asleep just yet.” Legend huffs grumpily at the order but complies.

Sky can see the stress and exhaustion leaving his little brother’s body as he sips at his tea. As he drinks, his eyes droop and he leans more and more heavily into Ravio. For his part, the merchant bears the added weight with ease, as if this is something that’s happened many times before. Sky gets the feeling it has.

His ear flicks at the sound of Wind’s pictobox. He turns to shoot a Look at the Sailor, who has the grace to look sheepish at his actions. (Sky will be getting a copy of that picture later, but now is not the time. He doesn’t want Legend getting embarrassed and forcing his aching joints to move because of it.) Luckily, the Vet doesn’t seem to notice. He’s done with his tea by now, barely holding onto his mug as he inches closer to sleep with every second.

Ravio reaches to grab it but Wars beats him to it. Gently taking the cup from limp hands, he gives the merchant a warm smile. “I’ll take care of it, you just let him sleep, yeah?” After a moment Ravio nods before turning back to the sleepy hero on his shoulder, leaving Warriors to stand and make his way to the kitchen unimpeded. He glances at the mug in his hands as he walks; it’s a simple thing that’s easy to hold and decorated in lovely pink blossoms. Apple blossoms, if he remembers correctly. It’s something that’s obviously been used and loved for a long time. The thought brings a smile to his face.

Returning to the living room, Wars is just in time to see Legend sliding off of Ravio’s shoulder to land face first in the mass of blankets, where he squirms for a moment to get comfortable before relaxing again. Ravio gives a fond sigh, slipping off the hero’s hat and placing it to the side to press a kiss to strawberry-blonde locks.

Legend purrs quietly at the action, and Ravio’s cheeks glow softly in the firelight as he beams. Turning to Sky, he whispers, amazed and proud, “Link almost never lets himself get so relaxed. He must really trust you.”

And if that doesn’t hit Sky like a shock arrow to the heart. From the sudden intakes of breath and muffled sniffling behind him, he’s not alone.

Warriors retakes his seat beside Sky with a thump. “We will do our utmost best to continue to deserve that trust,” he swears solemnly, and Sky catches the glisten in his eye. Ravio glances at him, startled, before catching his gaze, suddenly serious. The Captain holds it calmly. For a moment neither moves before the merchant nods and looks away.

Sky lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

The matter settled, Ravio stretches his arms over his head with a sudden jaw-cracking yawn. He adjusts the blankets around them one final time before curling over- no, on top of his partner. Legend’s purring gets marginally louder at that; after a moment a second, deeper one joins in. A few minutes later both boys are fully relaxed, comfortable and warm and appearing near-boneless as they fall asleep curled up together.

The house is warm, and safe, and Sky lets himself drift off in the knowledge that his brothers are right where they need to be.

Click! goes the sound of Wind’s pictobox.

<<<<First : <<Previous

#moth’s tales #linked universe #linked universe fanfiction #bunny flops #lu legend #lu ravio #lu sky #lu the chain #fanfiction #ravio: i love my partner and i will make sure you are appreciating and caring for him as much as you should be #warriors: i will swear an oath Right Here Right Now about how much i do #thanks to a lovely comment on violets and rabbits for the little hop-run they do at the beginning #it was such a cute idea i had to use it #also ravio was supposed to circle legend on the way inside #cause rabbits circle each other when they’re happy to see each other and i wanted to use that #but then ravio kept finding things to do and legend wasn’t going to get up again if he could help it #queerplatonic relationship #qpr legend x ravio

236 notes · View notes

hischierdevils · 2 years ago

Text

Forget You | N.H.

note: part four of the forget series!

summary: nico finds out who your ex is

warning: slight angst

wc: 1.9K

Breaking your lease is a lot easier than you thought it would be. Your best friend Abby helps you pack up your things as you close a chapter on your life. “I can’t believe we’re not going to be neighbors anymore. What am I going to do without you?” She pouts as she tapes a box shut for you.

“You’re my best friend, Abby.” You remind her. “You’re still going to see me.”

“But you’re not right down the hall anymore.” She flops onto your bare mattress. “Who am I supposed to call with boy problems?”

“You can still call me.” You tell her as you pack the last of your items into a box. “And I thought you and Anthony were good?” Her and Anthony have been on and off again since they met. The same night you met Mat.

“We are, right now. But lately…” She trails off as she looks at you, deciding if she should tell you something. Before she gets a chance to, Nico walks through the front door slightly out of breath.

“Please tell me this is the last of it.” He says as he takes his hat off his head to fix his hair underneath.

“Regret asking me to move in yet, Ni?” You grin as you walk over to hug his sweaty body as he places his hat back on his head.

“I regret not hiring movers.” He says after placing a kiss on your forehead. “Never you.”

“Well no one asked me if I approved of this move.” Abby says as she stands up. “You’re taking her all the way to New Jersey! I want custody, Nico.”

Nico laughs at your best friend. “You are more than welcome anytime.”

“Um, call ahead and make sure we have clothes on, please.” You interject.

“Noted.” Abby smiles before pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “I love you guys so much.” As she pulls away from you, she glares at Nico. “If you hurt her, I'll hurt you.”

Nico smirks at the small blonde and opens his arms for a hug from her. “I'll never hurt her, I promise.” He winks at you as Abby gives him a quick hug. “She’s my girl.”

You didn’t give your apartment a second glance as you and Nico left it for the final time that day. The memories of you and Mat were now behind you. Nico was your future and you couldn’t wait to make new memories with him.

It takes the two of you less than a week to fall into a comfortable rhythm with each other. After practically living together all summer, you already knew most of each other’s quirks. On Tuesday nights Abby would come over and have dinner with the two of you. Every other Friday you would go into the city and have a girls night with her.

Pre-season began and you learned that not everything between you and Nico could be perfect all the time. Your schedules were different now that he was at the rink more and you were eating many meals alone. An argument arose one night when you got home from a long day of editing only to find that the leftovers you were thinking about all day weren’t in the fridge.

“Nico!” You cried out in frustration.

“Yes?” He joined you in the kitchen quickly with shaving cream still on his face, recognizing the stress in your voice.

“I had pasta in the fridge.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Where is it?”

He frowns at you. “I ate it when I got home.” He sheepishly admits. “I was hungry.”

“Well now I'm hungry!” Hot tears of frustration line your eyes and you quickly wipe them away. “What am I supposed to eat? All you have is healthy shit!”

“You live here too, y/n!” He raises his voice slightly, making you flinch. “It’s not just my shit.”

You roll your eyes, too frustrated to say anything. Nico shakes his head before walking back into the bathroom. Frustration tears continue to fall as you cut up a pomegranate and place it into a bowl, walking over to the couch to eat it.

Ten minutes later, Nico walks out of your bedroom fully dressed and heads to the door. “I’ll be back.” Is all he says as he reaches for his keys.

“Wait!” You practically fall off the couch in your effort to get to him. “Please don’t leave!” Nico freezes with his hand on the doorknob as you stand before him and cry. “I’m so sorry. I was just frustrated. I-please don’t leave me.” Your lower lip wobbles and he pulls you flush to his chest.

“Baby, I was just going to get you food since I ate your dinner.” He explains as he smooths your hair down your back. “I’m going to come back.”

“I-I thought…” You pause to gather yourself. Mat would leave at the first sign of trouble, always. Sometimes he’d ignore you and not come back for days. He’d claim he didn’t want to argue with you but it made you very wary of showing any sort of emotion around him. “...you were mad at me.”

“Hey, it’s okay y/n.” Nico places his hand underneath your chin and tilts your head up so he can look at you. “Couples argue, it’s normal. I’m not going to leave just because we raised our voices a little.”

You nod, too afraid to say anything else. Nico isn’t Mat. You know that. But sometimes it’s hard to override that trauma response. Nico bends his head down to kiss you. “Why don’t you go take a bath and I'll get you dinner?”

“I don’t deserve you.” You tell him honestly as you pull away from him.

He chases your mouth with his before giving you a quick peck. ““Ich liebe dich.”

“I love you too.”

Things are so good between you and Nico that you don’t give a second thought to the fact that the Devils are playing the Islanders tonight at home. Abby is attending the game since her and Tito are on-again and she texts you all day sending you outfit options. You get to the prudential center before Nico to do some editing and you don’t see him again until warm-ups.

Nico skates over to you, placing one gloved hand against the glass as soon as he sees you by the bench. You smile at him, bringing your own hand up to the other side. He mouths ‘I love you’ in German and you mouth it back before he skates off.

During the national anthem you stand between the benches with Erika, trying to take some pictures of the guys. Feeling eyes on you, you look up to see Mat Barzal staring at you. He smiles when you finally look at him but you turn your attention away from him, not wanting to give him the time of day. As the game starts and you blow a kiss to Nico, you realize that you should’ve told him who Mat was to you.

During the first intermission, you unblock Mat and draft out a text to him. You hesitate over the send button before Abby comes up beside you. “It’s going well!” She says happily.

You delete the text and put your phone back in your pocket. “It’s tied 1-1.”

“Yeah, but our men are doing great!” She smiles at you. “It’s weird to have men on different teams, huh?”

“Abby, Nico doesn’t know.” You admit.

“Doesn’t know what?” She furrows her brows at your nervous expression. “About you and Mat?”

You nod. “He knows I have a bad ex but I never told him who it was…”

She bites her lip. “Everything’s been fine so far…maybe it will be okay.”

You knew it wasn’t going to be okay the moment you saw Nico and Mat headed out for the face off during the second period. Nico wins the draw but Mat quickly pins him on the wall. You watch in shock as their gloves go flying and Mat swings on Nico. Thankfully it gets broken up quickly and both of them are sent to the box.

During the next intermission, you get a text from Nico.

From: Lover ♥️

Would’ve been nice to know about Barzal

To: Lover ♥️

I didn’t think it would matter now

From: Lover ♥️

That I was playing against your piece of shit ex? He said shit about you y/n.

To: Lover ♥️

I’m sorry. Just ignore him.

From: Lover ♥️

I’m not going to let him disrespect you but we need to talk

You’re a ball of pure anxiety as you watch the clock in the third period wind down. Nico and Mat haven’t been on the ice for longer than a few seconds since the incident but you can see Mat chirping Nico any chance he gets. After the game, you say goodbye to Abby before heading home alone. You’ve convinced yourself that Nico is going to break up with you by the time he gets home.

‘Why didn’t you wait for me?” He asks as he walks into the bedroom to find you packing a bag. “Where do you think you’re going?” He begins unpacking your things as he waits for you to answer him.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me.” You sniffle as you pick up your clothes he threw out of your bag.

“Baby, come here.” He reaches for your wrist and tugs you down to the bed so you’re sitting side by side. “I love you. Am I a little upset with you? Yes, but I'm not leaving and neither are you. We’re going to get through this together.” He holds both of your hands as he looks at you.

You bite your lip to keep it from wobbling as you look at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Mat was my ex. I was just trying to forget about him and I didn’t think it would matter now anyways.”

“He didn’t forget you.” Nico mutters. “It just would’ve been nice having a warning going into that faceoff.”

“I’m sorry.” You say again, not sure of what he wants to hear.

“No more secrets, okay? We tell each other everything.” He presses his forehead to yours. “Deal?”

You kiss him. “Deal.”

Nico gets up to use the bathroom and you had just begun putting your clothes away when your phone starts ringing. You know who it is without having to look.

“Why are you calling me?” You answer.

“I’m sorry.” Mat blurts out.

“For hitting my boyfriend or for treating me like shit?” You roll your eyes. It’s been months. Why does he care now?

The word boyfriend doesn’t go unnoticed. “So it’s serious?”

“It’s not a secret, yeah.” You sigh. “Why do you care?”

“I miss you and I'm sorry. If you’d give me another chance I’d do it right.” You know it’s bullshit.

“I love him, Mat.” You hope the words hurt him.

“Does he remind you of me?” He asks. “You traded one thirteen for another.”

“He’s nothing like you, thank god. I’ll never allow another man to treat me the way you did.” Your voice waivers for a moment as the emotions you feel for Nico overwhelm you. “Don’t call me again.” You hang up as Nico walks back in.

“Who was that?” He asks you.

“No one.” You respond. “Let’s go to bed.”

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x y/n #my writing

310 notes · View notes

mojjisxng · 1 year ago

Note

could you write something about soft mornings after sleepovers with bf maki? something domestic n cute if you can :D

heyyy of course i can!!

this is short asf though, i’m sorry lol. i hope you like it anyways <33

⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ :

you were unpleasantly awakened by your boyfriend jumping on your bed as hard as he could and proceeding to whack you square in the face with a pillow. to be honest, this was a usual occurrence during sleepovers with maki.

the glare you gave the boy as your eyes shot open in annoyance, made maki immediately stop his torment on you and flop down on the bed.

“ok before you shout at me y/n, i’m sorry. you’re just such a heavy sleeper so that’s my last resort because you actually wake up to it,” maki rambled, with his hands up in surrender.

‘yeah that’s true,’ you thought, yet still decided to roll your eyes, scoff and roll away from him, pulling the duvet with you. this only spurred on maki’s puppy-like behaviour. he leaned over you trying to get a peek of your face, meaning that he was almost on top of you.

“you know you love me,” maki said in a cute tone while making silly kissy faces.

“xoxo gossip girl,” you replied while giggling, as impulsive thoughts of the reference popped into your head.

“wait…we actually need to start watching season 2 because i’ve gotten super invested now, which is totally YOUR fault dude.” at that, you both burst out laughing, yet agreeing at the same time. you turned around after the pair of you stopped gasping for air from laughing too much, and wrapped your arms around maki. the both of you stayed there for a while, just being comfortable, taking in each other’s presence.

“i love you maki,” you whispered timidly.

“i love you too, more than anything, even gossip girl,” maki replied, chuckling and placing a kiss on your forehead.

maki then decided he was going to make you both pancakes for breakfast. however, when you went to the kitchen to check on him because he was taking a suspiciously long time, you found him covered almost head to toe with flour, and charred pancakes (they were basically ash) on the counter and hob for some reason.

you tried to hold the fit of laughs that was building up but you couldn’t. the pair of you were spluttering at the bomb site of a kitchen. it’s never a dull moment with maki around.

“bakery for breakfast?”

“bakery it is,” answered maki, with a salute.

#request #&team #&team maki #hirota maki #&team scenarios #&team imagines #&team fluff #&team drabbles #&team reactions #&team fanfic #&team x reader #jpop

135 notes · View notes

skzstoryvault · 5 months ago

Text

Erase and Rewind (angst, fluff, smut - Hyunjin - Final part)

F!Reader

ex!Chan

good friend Hyunjin

multi chapter story

this chapter: feelings and smut

Chan broke up with reader

Reader is moving on

Hyunjin is being a supportive friend

Featuring insecurities, internalised misogyny and self-hate

This is in no way meant as a commentary on the real persons depicted here. They all deserve the world.

Please be kind.

Please do not report this post. If it's not your thing, just scroll away.

If you're underage, please scroll on, there is nothing for you here.

If you enjoy this story and are reading along, I would love to hear your comments in the replies, reblogs or DMs - however you feel most comfortable.

*** Part 3

You were single for two Valentine’s Days and for two White Days now, and other than staying in and distracting yourself with action movies, you did not feel the seasonal sadness affect you. Not to mention, there were other friends of yours who weren’t big on celebrating those things and who invited you to their houses for casual gatherings. Minho hosted a silent rave at his house one year (which Chan and his girlfriend skipped), Felix invited himself over one White Day, with cake ingredients and his infectious good mood. You were doing great.

This year, for White Day, Hyunjin declared the entire world could fuck off with its lovey dovey shit and he invited you for an art experience at a gallery which provided huge canvases, non-toxic paints and small thongs for the clients to use for painting on each other, then rolling across the canvasses and creating their own unique art pieces. “Uh… this is a literal string. My whole dick is out.” Hyunjin said from the changing booth next to yours.

“My outfit has no bra. Granted there’s not much that can go in it but I bet you didn’t sign up to see my nips on this God’s fine day.” “Shall I tell the staff we’re not doing it? If you’re uncomfortable?” “How much did you look forward to this, Hyune? And also, this must have been such a headache to organise, for you, with how booked you are. And aren’t you uncomfortable?” “Well, I really wanted to do it. I thought it would be nice for us to have this special thing in common.”

“Tell you what. Let’s still do it - butt naked. I know you love me and won’t laugh at me, and the same goes for me too.” “Fuck yes!” Hyunjin burst out of his booth, naked and in flip flops. “Jewellery - on or off?” You thought for a bit. “Off, I’d say, we don’t want the canvas to snag. Or for you to be up at three am, cleaning out paint from your custom diamond pieces with the toothbrush.”

“One less thing to jiggle around.” He said, heading for the canvases. “These really are big.” You exited your booth too, joining him, also in your birthday suit. “Shall we begin? Please, no pastels for me.” By the time he was halfway done with putting paint on you, you noticed him fidgeting and noticed why, as well. “Look, it happens, okay? You’re young and fit, a breeze coming in through the open window can give you a semi. It’s fine.” “It’s not a breeze though, it’s you. “ Hyunjin said. “You’re just so fine, and the fact that you wanted us to do this, even naked… so hot. But don’t worry, I’ll behave. I know how you feel about sex with men lately.”

“Er, that was almost two years ago. The sex itself is not the issue, the other shit it came with is. And… you think that’s the issue??? Hold up… excuse me for presuming here but… I didn’t think you’d be into me. Chan said you don’t like women.”

“He… what?” Hyunjin gasped so hard you feared he might straight up hyperventilate. “Or… that’s what I understood. I don’t remember the exact phrasing but he said that if you fished in the same pond no one would ever be so much as noticed by girls.” “Well maybe I don’t crop dust my charms all over the world because I’m not about all that. Whenever my hormones are taking the reigns, I use that energy and that drive to make art, to dance, to train, to push myself harder. To be the perfect whore for Stay so they’ll give me the most attention. I really don’t think I have to be a slave to every erection that comes and goes. I guess from the others’ end it might look different.” He said, looking down at his now behaving dick. “Case in point. Although I’ve been insanely attracted to you since we met, but then you went for Channie and I thought, eh, we’re not the same type, I’m not even an option. I’m not as confident and in charge as him and I’m shy so I… decided I would take any kind of place in your life you deigned to give me. But then he broke up with you, like a donkey, I might add, and you were so hurt and defeated, I though it inappropriate to still have a crush on you. I didn’t want to feel like I was friends with you for… predatory reasons. Just know that I think you’re everything and also… there’s these. Warning, I am not trying to be a pervert but look… I’ve had it done in Japan.” The madman. The absolute, perfect, amazing dumbass, you thought, looking at the twin scars.

You pointed to yours, now faded and pretty much invisible unless you drew attention to them.

“We… we actually match.” You said, feeling tears threaten to spill. “Jinnie… I’m going to cry! But… are you sure? That’s pretty extreme.” “I am crying! And yes, I am very sure. I can always adopt a child who needs love, and between you and me every time I hear people say how beautiful my kids will be with this creepy sort of entitlement… I used to shudder, now I can laugh about it.” He said, scooching closer to hug you. “We’re mixing up our paints. And… and I can’t believe I scrounged up the balls to tell you. And you like it? Like… me?” “Jinnie… you’ve given me back to me this past year plus. And it’s not just gratitude, don’t think you have to work hard to earn my affection, but… you carved out all the darkness from my world and replaced it with your colours. I should be so lucky to have your love, in this way or another. Your love is worth the risk. You’ve taught me there are no guarantees beyond what we choose to give each other today. And I want your love, if you want mine in return.”

Hyunjin just sobbed harder, everything else forgotten for a long, elastic moment stretching outside of time, in which the two of you sat naked and entangled in the middle of a tarp, covered in colours. Still crying, Hyunjin took your hand and helped you up. He rolled you across your canvas and you moved him across his own. You then stood, together, looking at your finished art pieces from further away. “They’re beautiful, Jinnie.” You said, moving closer to him and taking his hand in yours. “And they match perfectly. Like us.” He said, finally finding your lips with his, enveloping you in his arms and holding you close, glued to him.

It didn’t even feel like you were naked with him then. He made you feel so safe and seen, you forgot you were supposed to feel self-conscious.

You went back to your place after the gallery, to wash the rest of the colours off and to continue your make-out session. Still damp and with steam coming off of your skins, you collapsed between your sheets together, kissing ravenously, hands roaming and mapping previously off limits parts. You ended up in a tangle of limbs on the bed, Hyunjin’s cock down your throat and his tongue in your pussy. The way you both pulled and squeezed at each other’s skin, trying to get deeper, closer, was matched only by the neediness in your sounds. You had always guessed Hyunjin was the vocal type, now you knew for sure and his gone moans and whimpers made your core clench painfully and your walls slicker. It felt good and normal, that sense of vulnerability you hadn’t liked before nowhere to be found. You knew, deep in the back of your mind, that you and Hyunjin were thick as thieves and even if he did move on from you sexually, he would never cut you out of his life and allow you to fade into the faceless crowd of people who orbit him but are inconsequential to him. He comes without warning, from you running a wet finger over his hole and you pull back a bit so you wouldn’t choke or hurt him, focusing on drinking him down and not spilling a drop. He tastes so clean and familiar, and you know it’s psychological, this part - the thought that taking his come inside you can’t harm you or change the course of your life to a trajectory not of your choosing. This is, of course, in line with how Hyunjin makes you feel in every other way: seen, protected and cared for. Like a precious secret or a superpower.

You don’t expect to come, you’re too lost in the tsunami of emotions crashing down on you, and usually when there’s a disconnect between mind and body, nothing happens, but this time, Hyunjin pushes you down that steep slide by simply keeping at devouring you with his lips, his tongue, his long and gentle fingers. You don’t expect it, yet you start shaking like a leaf in autumn and feel yourself gush all over his face, an actual scream tearing out from you at how unexpectedly intense it feels.

By the time you can breathe normally again and can string two thoughts together, Hyunjin is still panting and his skin feels like it’s burning. He’s sweating profusely, like from an hour-long dance practice. His hands are still idly caressing you where he can reach, your thighs, your hips, your belly.

“Give me a moment and I��ll fuck you until we black out.” He says, his intoxicatingly appealing confidence making you shiver again. “Going to fuck every memory of Channie-hyung from you so you’re all mine.”

It’s a double-edged sword kind of comment that could land well or really badly, but the fact that he risked it for your own benefit is incredible.

Hyunjin already pieced all the broken parts of you together and glued them with his gold. You don’t know why or how, certainly not because you’re special - because you know you’re not. But on the other hand, he went all in too, and if it’s all a cruel prank or some background bet with the boys, it’s a damn high value one. “You being in your head, listening to your mean girl voice?” Hyunjin asks, sitting up and coming to caress your face. “Tell me.” He adds, leaning down to lick your lips into opening, sucking your lower one and then biting into it just the right amount so it stings but doesn’t hurt. “I want you fully here for what I’m going to do to you.”

His words make you gasp. “I’m still wondering why you chose me. I’m just a girl. Not even the prettiest.”

“To me you are THE girl.” Hyunjin says, bringing a hand up to caress your lips with careful, featherlight fingertips. “You can learn so much about a person when you dance with them, it’s so intimate and electric. I’ve never felt like this, like I want to take all of you and put you inside me and protect you from the world.”

His words send pure pleasure sparking up and down your spine, you never expected someone would feel like this about you and he’s right, that feeling when you dance together, that you are one soul in two bodies - you’ve felt it too and it was all-overpowering.

You close your eyes briefly, against the tide of rushing sensations coursing through you. Underneath, like the dark waters of the ocean, are your feelings, which are also stirring. You could love Hyunjin in the same all-consuming, all-overtaking way he acts towards you. The feeling of safety he gives you is unlike anything you’ve felt before and makes you want to go anywhere he wants to take you.

You become aware of the closeness of your bodies, the way your heated skins touch almost all over, with Hyunjin now half on top of you, with a leg bent and thrown possessively over you. His cock is pressed against your hip, leaking on your skin there, hard already. Everything about him is so ethereally beautiful, from his pillowy soft lips and his spindly, strong and gentle fingers, to his cock, long and thick and now hard again. You run the hand currently not carding through his hair down along the thigh he had flung across you, and the muscles shift subtly beneath your fingertips. He makes a completely ruined sound, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them to look at you. “Can I? Please, can I?”

“Yes, Jinnie, you can always have me. I’m all yours now.”

“Only mine, too.” He whispers, as though he’s manifesting it for himself. “Help me? I don’t want to mess this up.” You nod, reaching down and guiding him to rest against your entrance. One deep breath later and you’re breaching yourself before he takes over, pushing in just the tiniest bit. The stretch is just on this side of pain, after so long. You’re turned on out of your mind though, and he can slide in easily, but you want to feel more of that stretch. “Slowly, until you bottom out. I want to feel all of this.” You say, voice coming out raspy and breathless. “Heavens, Jinnie - you feel perfect.”

He lets out a breath he’s been holding for ages, it seems, lowering his forehead to yours. “I’m afraid to move. If I do, I’ll bust.” He says, his eyes closed. You could be with him like this forever. Him above you, inside you, trembling like a leaf from all the things rushing through him. He never looks more gorgeous than he does in moments like this one, fully naked with you, inside out, no make-up, no retouches. Soon, he does move - halfway propped up on an arm while the other one is under you, pulling you closer and anchoring him to you, wrecked-sounding and with eyes squeezed closed, lower lip chewed up and hair sticking in wet tendrils to his face and neck. He looks like a god.

It takes him a bit to find an angle and a pace he can sustain, and all the pressing and wriggling around just pushes him closer into you, so close that every movement of his hips is felt in your clit, and you just know it’s a matter of when by now, not if he makes you come. “I can’t… fuck, I can’t…” he pants out in frustration. “I can’t hold it long enough, I’m sorry.” He adds, collapsing on you and peppering apologetic kisses all over your face and neck.

You know he means he can’t hold a steady rhythm in this position, not long enough to get you both to that place where you both fall over the edge.

“Kneel up, baby. Sit back and spread your legs beneath me.” You guide him. He can definitely do it, he has the strength for it, and the hubris needed to attempt to pull off the switch in position while still inside you.

“Oh… my… God!” He exclaims when it works and he finds himself with you in his lap, with your legs on either side of him, grinding on his length which is now buried impossibly deeper inside you. His first reaction once he’s sat down and his heels are digging into the sheets is to pull you close and bury his face in your neck, leaving a deep mark at the spot where your neck meets the shoulder. For a moment, he forgets to move up into you, distracted by how much closer he can have you now, how much easier it is to reach your neck, your collarbones, the swell of your breasts, your nipples. “Are you close, baby?” You press out, wanting his focus. If he forgets himself now, the rhythmic squeezing of your walls around his cock buried deep inside you and the maddening, overwhelming feel of his lips and fingers on your nipples will throw you over the edge and leave him behind. And any other time, that would be perfectly fine, but you need him with you this time, the first time of many.

“Yes, fuck, this is so… it’s everything!” He pants. “I was close since you let me in. I’m barely holding on, so you don’t think I-” He gets cut off by the next squeeze of your walls around his length when you’re seated flush in his lap. “Oh fu-” Hyunjin goes cross-eyed briefly, holding on to you and pulling you close, wrapping his arms around you and locking you in, your front glued to his.

Seeing him lose it for you, because of you, throws you over the edge too, sparks of pleasure turning into currents shooting up and down your spine, spreading tingles all over you, all the way to your toes. As soon as your heavy breathing goes down a bit, you lean in and kiss Hyunjin, stealing his breath and licking along his now spit-slick lips. He’s going slack beneath you and you push him backwards so he ends up lying down on the bed. You follow, his softening cock slipping out of you, causing you both to whine at the loss of contact and the sound of your bodies separating wetly.

“That was… holy… I knew it would be good but… because it was with you, it was out of this world. I felt like I died and got zapped back to life.” Hyunjin speaks, his words leaving his chest slowly. He sounds so dreamy and relaxed, like he might fall asleep while talking. “I want to do it again and again, till I can’t move or remember my name. I want to let you try everything on me. Tie me up, fuck me, blindfold me, spank me, pi-” “Jinnie!” You chime from your comfy spot on top of him. “I appreciate the enthusiasm. I guess we have to stay together for a little while so we can try all the things you want.”

“I want that. I want to try it all with you.” He says, sounding far away and half into the land of dreams already. “Wanna keep you fucked out and pleased all the time. Or… uhhh, do things in your own time? I want to tell Stay about you right away, to sort the haters out and to be able to be together like normal people.” "You don't have to. People are full of hate, Jinnie. I want you to keep being the loveable brat, the prince and the spoiled baby in public. You should be Stay's best and cutest husband, it's good for your career. Better than announcing a girlfriend." "But... won't you hate being kept a secret?" "Babe, I'm being selfish. I don't want the world to be in on our relationship. And well, statistically, we have more of a chance to last as a couple if we don't invite everyone else out there into it." "Then I'll do what feels right for you. I like being an idol and I love being yours now. If I can continue doing both... all the better. And we can keep hanging out like before, I need to see you every day when I'm around here." “Mmm, good thing you said that, I don’t want us to go from being besties to only being strictly dickly.” You say, finding a comfortable spot to snuggle next to your boyfriend. “A lot of people have dicks, but there’s only one of you, my good sweet Hyune.”

“Don’t stop, go on,” he says, his eyes closed and a smile tugging on his lip corners.

“You are so good to me, my baby. You gave me my joy back.” You say. “Wanna keep you to myself for so long.”

You’re not sure he heard the last part, since he’s already snoring softly, like a cat purring itself to sleep. But the words that left your lips are enough of a shock to you already. It’s the truth. Hyunjin never cared how much of a mess you were. To him, you’re the hottest thing in the world and he gave you more than 100% of himself in every way.

#skz fic #fic #bang chan angst #ex bang chan #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin smut #friend hyunjin #erase and rewind #f!reader #smut with feelings #lover hyunjin #first time

12 notes · View notes