#far cry 5 x the office

[passinoutpieces]

just my deputy with her favourite two dudes :)

#the office reference #shit post #the office meme #fc5 meme #jacob seed #jacob seed x deputy #sharky boshaw #sharky and the deputy #fc5 fanart #fc5 art #fc5 fandom #far cry 5 #far cry 5 fanart #my art #my art 2022 #my fanart #digital art #passinoutpieces art

[pyro-chaos]

Mike Schmidt x Reader

Pt. 1: And They Were Roommates…

Summary: Prologue. How it all started.

Or, Mike and you develop the foundation for a relationship.

Tropes: Fluff, angst if you squint,

And they were roommates…

Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

A/N: I’m actually super proud of this one haha, feedback is never required but appreciated anyway!!! Thank you!! Enjoy your read

-———-———

Mike knows you, but not well.

You live in a nicer house than his. Abby likes how your TV has more than just the news channels.

Max stopped answering Mike’s calls, and his aunt wasn’t around anymore.

You’ve babysat Abby before, but only briefly. Times that Mike needed to go to a job interview or pick up an extra shift and he couldn't find anyone else. Planned situations.

You were a last resort. He didn’t mean to overbook himself, but he did, and now he’s desperately hoping you won’t turn down a few extra dollars.

You answer Mike’s frantic knocks with wide eyes. You still have your work uniform on, and Mike has to actively suppress his wince.

“I’m so sorry,” he feels Abby squeeze his hand, “I didn’t know who else would be available.”

Mike doesn’t even try to suppress his relieved sigh when you wave him off and usher Abby inside. You - albeit awkwardly - invite him in, but he’s already running late.

You ask when he’ll be back for Abby, but he doesn’t know, so he says, tonight, I’ll call you and speed-walks to his car; tail tucked so far between his legs that he almost feels like crying.

When he returns to your home, he thanks you with a check and assurances that it’s just a one-time thing, and he couldn’t think of anyone else who’d be willing, but you just smile and offer him some dinner leftovers.

Then, a man walks in with a paper plate wrapped in saran wrap, and Mike feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand. You introduce the man as your boyfriend, Mike shakes his hand, but he’s practically choking on the air of judgment surrounding Oliver.

So that’s how you can afford a place like this.

Abby sleeps on the drive home, and Mike thinks about you.

Mike met you at work; maiding for a cleaning company for rich snobs. He…didn’t mind the days he worked with you. The manager often paired the two of you together for large estate-wide projects.

You never complained when he needed to bring Abby to work. If anything, you seemed like you had more fun on days he brought his little sister.

You asked Abby questions about her interests and even shared some of your own. Mike even once caught you packing extra frosted Animal Crackers from the lobby.

Sometimes, Abby would drag Mike into games of three-person hide-and-seek. Most often, he got stuck seeking. You laughed a lot on those days.

You even defended Mike when the manager wrote him up for not controlling his child.

He remembers apologizing with coffee for getting you written up. He also remembers you assuring him that, “the client needs to calm the fuck down. It’s not like we knocked over an Urn.”

He remembers how you made him chuckle.

The manager doesn’t pair the two of you up anymore. Mike would have to ask his co-workers to change shifts with him if he wanted to see you more often, but asking sounds awkward.

You corner him in the office during shift change the night after you babysit Abby. You ask if he wants to go meet for coffee during the break hour, your treat.

He wants to say he’s busy. The words rest on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t know why you want to do him another favor. You're making him feel jumbled and awkward.

But then you mention the food, and I’ll meet you in the lobby if you want to carpool, just slips out of his mouth.

A big part of Mike thinks he offered to drive because he feels guilty for interrupting your evening. He doesn’t want to spend time with you, he only wants to pacify you enough to leave him alone.

The smaller part feels curious -for lack of a better term- why are you being nice? What’s wrong with you?

Mike drags his feet to meet you at the office. He hates that he’s about to give up his break for the Hi! How-are-you’s and the I’m-doing-well’s of small talk. He hates that he’s spending his energy on something so unnecessary. Plus, it’s not like he’s ever been friends with you.

He hopes that he hasn’t given you the idea that he cares more than he does.

The café is nice. It has hanging vines over the counters and windowsills. It smells like espresso and fresh soil. There’s an old-looking bookshelf right by a sunny window. It feels homey.

You buy Mike's food, and he tries to downplay how happy he gets when he has enough leftovers for another meal. The two of you talk. You ask if he has a consistent babysitter, and he dodges the question. You tell him your ‘free nights’ in case he hasn’t found a babysitter by the time he needs one, because, apparently, you have a lot of fun with Abby.

Mike feels the defensiveness creep up into his neck. The urge to bare his teeth and roll his eyes crawls into the forefront of his mind. He can take care of Abby just fine. He’s beginning to think that you think they’re a charity case. They don’t need you.

You must notice Mike tense because you change the subject. You tell him about how vinegar helps when cleaning smoke-stained walls, and the work-drama surrounding your shared boss.

His shoulders unwind, and he even adds a few jokes about bad clients. His input seems to sweeten the interaction like the honey in the tea he’s drinking.

He has fun.

He calls you the next time he needs a babysitter.

A few months go by. You, Abby, and Mike settle into a schedule. He learns that your boyfriend shares a car with you. Mike and Oliver don’t talk much, but when they do, they’re cordial.

Abby’s never complained about Oliver, but Mike can feel the simmering judgment, and wonders if Oliver has ever said anything to you about them.

Mike can’t pay you all the time. In fact, he can’t pay you most of the time, but you don’t seem to care. He wants to ask why.

You have a day job separate from the nights at the cleaning company - just like him - and the generosity you have with your time makes him feel itchy; like he owes you something, but you never bring anything up.

Anyway, he’s stuck with you. Who else would he leave Abby with on weekends and three nights a week?

You’re different today. Your eyes look glossy, and when Mike asks how it went with Abby, you just say it went well.

He doesn’t ask, but he wants to.

Friday night, you call and cancel babysitting Abby.

Your voice sounds small, and he hears you sniff a few times.

He doesn’t think your emotions are his business, but it feels like it’s the right time to ask anyway.

So, Mike asks, “Everything alright?”

You answer without a beat, “Yeah, just caught a bug from work, I’ll just need a day.”

Mike doesn’t know how he feels about the words I’ll just need a day. It feels like you’re justifying yourself. It feels like words a coworker would say to another coworker.

“I’m sorry,” you finish. It’s so soft and genuine that it makes Mike’s breath hitch.

“No,” he blurts, “No need to be sorry. I hope you feel better soon,” and he genuinely does.

Mike can’t afford to skip today's shift. He’s already received too many late notices from his landlord. One more and he’ll be evicted.

He’ll probably have to work through lunch this week if he wants to make ends meet.

He doesn’t know what to do.

So, Mike does the only thing he can think of. Mike carefully instructs Abby to never touch the stove, never to go near the thermostat, don’t answer the door unless she hears their secret knock, don’t answer the phone, and to keep the blinds and curtains closed.

Abby Pinky promises to do all of those things. Mike believes her, but writes a list and tapes it to the fridge just in case she forgets.

Abby asks why she’s not going to your house while Mike prepares a quick breakfast. He tells her you’re sick as he inhales his portion.

“Does she need medicine?” Abby asks.

“I don’t know,” he puts his dishes in the sink, “she said she’d be better by tomorrow.”

“Does she have medicine?”

“Probably, she’s a grown-up.”

“Does she have chicken soup?”

Mike doesn’t know how he’s supposed to know that, but Abby sounds genuinely worried about whether or not you have chicken soup. So, he stops what he’s doing and puts all of his attention on his sister.

“She’s gonna be okay Abby, she’s just not feeling her best. You’ll see her tomorrow.”

His sister looks at the table. Her little eyebrows furrow as she plays with her food. Mike feels… a twist of ugly things in his gut. He doesn’t like that he can’t protect Abby. He doesn’t like that he’s leaving her home alone.

That night, Mike brings her ice cream and lets her stay up past her bedtime.

Tomorrow comes too soon.

Mike tries to keep his nose out of your business, but the packing boxes littering your home stare into his soul. Your car is gone, too.

You welcome Abby, and you smile at Mike, but your eyes seem vacant. You don’t look like you’ve been sick, but your eyes are puffy.

At this point, Mike knows something’s going on.

He wants to give you something, but what could he offer? He’s not sure how close the two of you are. He’s not sure what you want from him.

In reality, paying you would be the best thing he could do for you, but he can't do that. So, he keeps his head down and asks if you need anything.

You get solemn after Mike’s offer; like you have bad news that you've been waiting to spring on him.

Mike clenches his teeth. He's expecting you to tell him you're done; he hasn't paid you, and you're starting to get annoyed.

"Actually, I have a huge favor to ask"

That's not what Mike's expecting, but he can't say no without sounding like an asshole. So he says, "Sure, what's up?"

You lick your lips again, “You can totally say no. It’s kind of a lot, and I know you’re already busy, but Abby goes to school around the same time I go to work, and I’d pay you for gas money” You're fidgeting with the hem of your sweater, "Would you be willing to give me a ride to work this week?"

Mike doesn’t even hesitate, "What time do you need to be picked up?"

You bring Mike a muffin. You nurse a coffee.

You seem quieter in the mornings, but Mike is just quiet. So, interactions only occur when you need to give him directions.

It’s not necessarily awkward, but Mike still feels tense and icky at the beginning.

Picking you up in the afternoons feels better on Mike’s psyche. You talk more, and he knows where the cleaning company is, so he doesn’t have to ask where to go.

Sometimes Mike brings you left-over meals from his day job. Sometimes you bring him and Abby a packed lunch.

Abby’s enrolled in an after school program until 6pm the two nights you don’t have her. Mike has those nights off, but he still picks you up and drops you off before getting his sister.

A few weeks go by.

You settle into a new schedule. You still don’t have a car. Mike never reminds you that you offered gas money.

“Thank you” you unbuckle your seatbelt.

Mike parks the car in your driveway, “It’s no problem”

It’s the least he can do, really. But he doesn’t want to tell you that he feels like he owes you.

You haven’t left yet, and Mike’s starting to feel confused.

You sigh before looking at him, “I might be getting a roommate soon”

The words sound casual, but you’re pursing your lips and fidgeting with your sleeves. Mike doesn’t understand why.

“Sorry, it’s just, I figured you should know.” You lick your lips, “I can’t afford this place without a roommate, and I don’t feel comfortable letting Abby around someone I don’t know”

He’s grateful for that, honestly. But something in his gut still drops. He has no idea what he’s going to do without your help.

“When?” he croaks. He clears his throat, “uh when do you think you’ll have one by?”

He doesn’t have to go get Abby for another half-hour.

You shrug, rubbing a hand on your hairline, “hopefully within the next few weeks.”

He nods, he’s not sure what to say. He’s not sure if there’s anything to say.

Then you gasp so loud that Mike literally feels his heart bang against his lungs. Your eyes go bright and you look into Mike’s eyes with an excitement that makes him feel slightly overwhelmed.

“You wanna move in with me?!”

Mike spends the rest of the half-hour in your kitchen, brainstorming how the three of you can move Abby’s bed with Mike’s tiny car. Without paying for a moving truck.

He has fun.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt imagine

[fettuccin-e]

Better Than Nine to Five

hi guys i wrote this quite a while ago!! i had trouble with the beginning but, like with most things i write, the words started coming as soon as the characters started coming (get it?? get it cause like cum) but ANYWAY pls enjoy the poly!steddie content!!

Tags: Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson, established poly, dp in one hole, brief use of sex toys, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv

Steve can barely ever get off work these days. He hasn’t been as fortunate in the job market as you or Eddie; the both of you have pretty strict 9 to 5 jobs, able to sit and relax after a day at work, knowing what your schedule will be the next week, and the week after that. Steve’s schedule, at best, is random and wildly inconvenient, working late shifts almost every night and waking up the next day with you and Eddie already gone to work, alone in your shared bed.

He hates it, you and Eddie know he does, but he puts up with it, wanting to help all of you save up for a house, a pretty one that’s the exact opposite of the run-down, shitty apartment that you all live in.

You and Eddie also know, however, that Steve needs a chance to fucking relax for once. And if there’s anything you both know how to do, it’s how to make your sweet, loving Stevie let out some steam.

It’s Eddie who calls Keith and tells him to let Steve out early for the day. “He needs tomorrow off too,” Eddie says, twisting his finger around the phone cord.

“No fucking way, Munson. I’m already doing a favor for him by letting him out today, but he’s coming in tomorrow, whether he likes it or not.”

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, eyes narrowed and angry, but you rip the phone from hics grasp.

“Look Keith, either you let Steve off tomorrow, or I'm going to the cops to tell them about the stash of weed you’ve got in your office. That we an smell it all throughout the damn store. And wouldn’t that just be a crying shame?” you snarl into the receiver.

“It was your freak boyfriend who sold me that shit in the first place!”

You nearly laugh at the high-pitched indignance in his voice. “Are you really gonna tell them that, Keith? Maybe I’ll also throw in the fact that they should probably look into your tax records, right? I bet there are some glaring inconsistencies, aren’t there?”

“You fucking bitc-” You hear Keith stop himself, sighing angrily. You hear a loud crash in the background just before he says, “I’ll let him off tomorrow, but you stay the fuck out of my business, you got that? I’ll-”

“Not a chance, maybe try being less of a shit person. Bye Keith!” You don’t give him a chance to respond, slamming the phone down.

Eddie watches you with wide eyes, before smirking, pupils blown and dark as he grabs your waist to pull you in for a hot, messy kiss. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad like that, baby.”

You giggle, reaching a hand up to play with his messy curls. “Gotta stand up for my boys, don’t I baby?” You step away from him, grabbing his hand to drag him to your bedroom. “C’mon, Eds, you gotta get me ready for Stevie, right?”

Eddie nearly faceplants into the carpet in his race to get to the bed.

It’s only an hour later that Steve unlocks the door to the apartment, stripping his vest off. Keith had stumbled out of his office earlier that day, mumbling something about, “go home early, Harrington, shit. Just wait till like, six or something, and you can go.” Steve had been confused, but decided not to question it, his heart galloping at the thought of spending the evening with the both of you for the first time in far too long.

Except the apartment seems almost empty when he walks in, all of the lights off and the living room and kitchen empty, devoid of both yours and Eddie’s presence. His heart drops, only for a second, thinking that he’s alone in the apartment, before he hears a loud, keening whine come from the bedroom.

Your unmistakable whine, followed by Eddie’s familiar whispered praises of “shh… baby I know, I know. It’s a lot, but I think he’s home, did you hear the door open baby? He’s gonna think you’re so pretty baby, so good, planning all this out for him.”

You answer Eddie with a choked sob, and Steve’s pants suddenly are far too tight, cock bulging almost immediately. He goes to open the door, and the sight that greets him almost makes him pass out on the spot.

You, with your hips hiked up in Eddie’s grasp, your flushed face pushed into the mattress as Eddie works his cock into you, his pretty hips slapping against your plush ass. Eddie’s head snaps over to the bedroom door, mouth pulled into a self-satisfied smirk while he keeps fucking you.

“Look, baby,” Eddie grunts, lifting his hand to give your ass a loud smack. You jerk, head turning to see what Eddie wants, and smile blearily at the sight of Steve.

“S-Stevie, you’re, ah, home,” you slur, struggling to get the words out between Eddie’s strong thrusts into your needy pussy.

Eddie watches as Steve’s eyes darken, his big hand moving down to palm at the bulge of his cock through his pants. “She’s been waiting for you, Harrington,” Eddie says, sounding almost like he isn’t fucking you stupid. “She had this all planned out, wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, uh, consider-” Steve coughs, eyes trained on Eddie disappearing into your pretty cunt over and over. “Consider me surprised baby.”

Eddie chuckles, and Steve’s eyes snap from where you both are connected. “Steve, this isn’t even the best part.”

“What?”

“C’mere,” Eddie mumbles, and you whine as he stops his thrusts. Eddie beckons Steve over with a playful finger, and Steve moves next to him, kneeling on the bed to see what Eddie thinks is so important.

Steve nearly chokes on his spit. Because there, in your dripping cunt, is a pretty blue dildo, shoved inside you right alongside Eddie’s cock.

“She wanted to take both of us today,” Eddie whispers into his ear, and Steve can hear Eddie’s smug smile. “Been working her open for the past hour, waiting for you to get home.”

Oh fuck. “Oh fuck,” Steve says, echoing his own thoughts. He smooths a hand over the soft skin of your ass, and you whimper softly.

“You like it?” you ask, almost tentatively, and Steve almost laughs at the absurdity of the question.

“Like it?” Steve says softly. His hand moves from your ass to push lightly on the base of the dildo, making you gasp sharply. “Baby, I love it. God, you’re so fucking hot.”

“You gonna take your clothes off, Harrington?” Eddie murmurs. “She’s been waiting so long for us, it seems cruel to make her wait any longer.” 

Steve follows Eddie’s vaguely concealed demand at an almost frantic speed, ripping off his shirt so fast it gets stuck on his arm for a second. He ignores Eddie’s tiny laugh. He stands off the bed to untie his shoes and shuck his pants off, his hard cock slapping harshly against his stomach. 

“C’mon baby,” Eddie whispers to you, “gotta let Stevie lay down, right? So you can sit on his pretty cock, yeah?” Eddie's mouth waters just a little at the sight of his boyfriend, hard cock glistening and hairy chest heaving. He looks fucking illegal, Eddie thinks. You nod your assent, but still whine as Eddie shuffles back, his cock slipping out of you along with the dildo, leaving you painfully empty for the first time in an hour. 

Steve follows Eddie’s instruction, laying down on the bed, while you kneel up, swinging a leg over his hips to straddle him. You lean forward to brush your lips against his, smiling softly.

“Hi, Stevie,” you whisper, and he smiles back at you, curling his fingers into your hair. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispers back, before crushing his mouth to yours. He feels Eddie grab his cock, notching it up against the entrance of your pussy, and suddenly you’re sinking down, down, sucking him into your sticky walls, making all three of you moan in unison. You and Steve breathe heavily into each other’s mouths as your ass finally meets Steve’s heavy balls, buried all the way inside.

“God, fucking shit, you both are so fucking hot, Jesus,” Eddie grunts from behind you, and you both can hear the unmistakable sound of Eddie’s hand slipping up and down his cock, still sticky with your juices.

You turn, smiling softly at Eddie’s blushing face, his lips parted as he looks at you both. “Eddie,” you whisper, “You can’t cum yet. Y’gotta fuck me too, right baby?”

Eddie curses again, before kneeling behind you, just like he had been a few minutes before. ”You are a fucking minx, you know that?” He mumbles, and you would giggle if it weren’t for the blunt tip of Eddie’s cock nudging against your opening, right beside Steve.

“Ah- Oh God-d” you whine as Eddie’s fat cockhead pops into your stretched out pussy. You thought you would be prepared for it, with the dildo, but you don’t think anything could’ve prepared you for this. Eddie’s sticky cock nudging along Steve’s as he sinks deep into you, Steve’s warm hairy body beneath you, his big hands on your waist while Eddie radiates heat above you.

Steve’s not doing much better, his eyes rolling into the back of his head at the feeling of Eddie’s gorgeous cock squished against his, the hot walls of your pussy strangling the both of them. Eddie’s hands are clutched into the bedsheets beside your sweaty bodies, and Steve takes his hands off your waist for just a second to grab Eddie’s hands, entwining their fingers together to hold onto your waist at the same time. You all take a minute to just breathe, allowing your pussy to adjust to the stretch of both of them.

They’re both whispering breathless praises into your ears, trying to get through to your cloudy brain. “So, so good for us, baby, taking us so good,” and “Can’t believe we’ve got you baby, you’re so pretty, so, so good for us. Y’feel so good, princess, fuck.” You can’t even discern whose voice is whose anymore, lost in a sea of pleasure and nearly-painful fullness, their cocks reaching so deep inside, pressing into every crevice of your sensitive pussy.

And then they start to move.

You try to gasp air into your empty lungs through your screams and cries of pure fucking pleasure, the both of them thrusting in tandem to bully your pretty pussy open for them again and again. Eddie’s face is nuzzled into the crook of your neck, pressing comforting kisses into your skin between whispers of “doing so good, princess,” and “y’feel how wide you’re stretched baby? Fuck, you’re so sexy, sweetheart, how’d we manage to land you?”

Steve’s groaning praises of his own, primal grunts of “so fucking sexy,” and “our pretty, gorgeous baby. God, can’t believe I’ve got you both,” before licking into your mouth in messy kisses.

You knew, even while planning this, that none of you were going to last long, and you’re a strange mixture of pleased and slightly disappointed to learn that you’re right. The knot in your stomach is tight, tightening and tightening as they rock into you, the overwhelming stretch of both of them keeping them pressing into your g-spot. You’re choking on your own spit as moans try to escape your throat. 

It’s going to be over far too soon, but knowing that you can take them both, that you three could do this again, makes your pussy clench, your clit throbbing. 

After only a few minutes of Steve’s and Eddie’s strong thrusts into your dripping cunt, grinding overwhelmingly against the spot that makes you sob, you reach your hands into both Steve’s and Eddie’s hair, your hips jerking uncontrollably.

“I’m gonna, oh God, I-I can’t, I’m gonna,” you gasp painfully, tears leaking down your flushed face, not even able to get the words out, before your pussy is clenching hard around both Steve and Eddie. You’re shaking like a leaf, overwhelmed and wrung dry as Steve and Eddie rub their joined hands up and down your waist.

“Shit, baby, you’re so fucking t-tight,” Eddie whimpers, composure fully lost. “Steve, I gotta-I gotta, gotta cum.”

Steve nods frantically, unable to form words, before he’s releasing one of Eddie’s hands to instead cup around his boyfriend’s head, dragging him down to meet his lips, licking into his mouth over your shoulder. Their hips stutter as they finally, finally cum, flooding  your dripping pussy with a mixture of both of them.

You all breathe heavily for a moment, the room feeling hazy. Like heaven, Steve thinks, this is like heaven. You know you can’t move, feeling drunk and ripped apart, but your boys know it too. They slip gently out of your used pussy, Steve moving you to his side to cuddle you into him gently. Eddie steps out for just a moment, coming back in with a warm, damp cloth.

“Baby, Eds is going to clean you up real quick, okay?” Steve whispers, and you whimper softly, nodding your head, your eyes still closed. Eddie takes the permission to wipe the sweat off your body, and clean up a little of the mess between your legs.

“Good girl, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers when he’s done, pecking you softly on your sleepy lips, before turning to give Steve a quick kiss. He throws the cloth in the hamper, knowing you would hate to make up to it laying on the floor, before laying on the other side of you, pressing himself comfortingly against your naked body. Steve reaches down to tug to the sheets over each of you, and grabs Eddie’s hand to hold, their palms resting atop your warm body.

“Shit, I’m gonna have t’call off work tomorrow,” Steve mutters into your hair.

“Don’ worry bout it,” you slur, sleep already whisking you away. “I took care of it.”

“She did,” Eddie smiles. “I’ll have to tell you about it tomorrow, she was fucking hot.”

“She always is,” Steve smiles, chest hurting with happiness and sheer, unadulterated love. “Our perfect girl.”

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader oh yea #steddie x reader #steddie x you #poly!steddie #stranger things smut

[superblysubpar]

I Think I Only Want You, Under My Mistletoe:

modern!steve harrington x fem!reader

3.6k words

summary: Meeting The Harrington's, an office Christmas party, seeing Steve's big, hard d- Desk. Get your mind out of the gutter. // The prompts: [mistletoe] - a playful or romantic kiss under a mistletoe // [BEND OVER] - one muse bends the other over a table/couch/etc. 

warnings: THIS HAS BIG SPOILERS FOR MY SERIES WE’LL CALL IT LOVE ( #a we’ll call it love blurb // we’ll call it love masterlist) - this blurb takes place only a few short weeks after the end of chapter 5: Getting Older, and before the Epilogue. | slight description of reader worrying about her appearance/comparison and anxiety about what people think of it | slight angst with Harrington parent disapproval and judgement | alcohol consumption | SMUT: semi-public (steve's office) teasing, calling Steve Mr. Harrington and sir, illusions to unprotected PIV intercourse

day 1 of 12 days of superbly subpar writing // requested by @palmtreesx3 - thank you for requesting and continuing to encourage WCIL nonsense. Hope you love it babe! 💛

Steve: You found a dress right? You: Nah, I was thinking I’d just show up in my period sweats and that sweatshirt with the stain on it.  Steve: Honey, seriously, I need confirmation.  You: 🙄 You: yes steve. I got a dress. Relax. 

You tossed more popcorn in your mouth, trying to squash the nerves he wasn’t making any better by harassing you for the last week about the dress. 

Like it wasn’t enough to have a boyfriend after swearing off love. The boyfriend you now had after confessing all dramatic and movie-like that you were falling for the guy despite thinking he was engaged. The engagement he called off because of you, much to his parents' fury. The parents you were going to meet at this party. The party at the office he had just put his notice in to quit, again because of you. 

What was there to be nervous about?

The phone next to you lit up and Robin glanced at it, and you caught the name ‘Dingus’ as she  cleared her throat and locked it. Her voice strained to sound nonchalant. 

“Can I see what you’re wearing to the party tomorrow?”

An annoyed huff and strangled cry left your mouth. “That’s it! I’m not going! I’m not!”

You stomped to the kitchen and poured more of the white wine they brought as Nancy failed to cover her smile, coughing over her laugh. 

Robin sat up on her knees, green clay mask beginning to harden on her face, so only her bright blue eyes could convey her feelings. “Just let us see it so we can tell him he has nothing to worry about and he can relax.”

Your head shook, laughing despite being unamused. “Does he think I don’t know how to dress myself? Does he think I’m gonna actually show up in something disgusting? Does he think-”

“You haven’t met the Harrington's.” Robin interrupts, her voice far more serious than you cared for. 

Stomping off to the bathroom, you scrubbed the mask off your face, splashing cold water against your cheeks and tried to ignore the queasy feeling in your stomach. She’s right. You hadn’t met the Harrington's. You’d heard all about them, and you weren’t sure you’d like to meet them under normal circumstances, let alone these complicated, messy ones. 

“Are you-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” You interrupted Robin’s call down the hallway, closing the door to your room and stared at the wine colored fabric with your arms crossed. 

Slipping it on with resentment and nausea fluttering throughout your body, you ran your hands over the velvet material, tilting your head to the side in the mirror as you exhaled. Turning on your heel before you could find all the ways you hated the dress you once were confident about, you stepped out of the room. Nancy and Robin’s mouths dropped in tandem when you stepped into the light of the living room. 

“What?” You squeaked, hands crossing and curling around your waist. “It’s bad? Is the slit okay? I thought…”

Robin started typing on her phone furiously and Nancy held up her hand as you trailed off, “You are so good. Furthest thing from bad. Don’t worry.”

Your shoulders released their tension, but the crease over your brows deepened as Robin smirked down at her phone. “What are you telling him?”

She hummed, “Don’t worry about it. Relax.”

Relax.

Easy for her to say. 

You: steven. You did NOT send a limo.  Steve: 🤷🏻‍♂️ You: you think you’re so cute, huh? Steve: I think *you* think I’m cute.

He clicked at his desktop more, glasses falling down the slope of his nose as he tried to finish work. He felt awful that not only were you nervous, but he was already here, you had to arrive alone, and he still hadn’t seen your dress. His phone vibrated and he looked down to see a picture of you, in the back of the limo, holding up an entire bottle of champagne just for you, and much to his dismay, a coat covering your dress.

You: you know what won’t be cute? When I down this entire bottle of champagne and puke from nerves all over your parents six thousand dollar shoes harrington Steve: they’ll buy new ones You: 🙄

He continued to work on his computer, people calling into his office and asking if he was coming downstairs to which he nodded and said soon to, until the lights started to turn off and it was just him. Hand running through his hair as he flipped back to his conversation with Robin last night.

Robin: DUDE Robin: You’re gonna go into cardiac arrest when you see her Steve: you’re not helping Robin: your mom will love her, you know she will Robin: Well, eventually. I did. Sort of. Steve: Again, NOT helping Robin: honestly your dad is gonna try to sleep with her Steve: you’re sick, you know that? Robin: The way she looks in this dress is sick steve Robin: ILLEGAL Robin: wow. You have wonderful taste in women Steve: YOU HAVE TO STOP 

Despite already having been to Steve’s office, the sight of it tonight still has your jaw going slack. When the limo stops and the door opens for you, the vast and towering skyscraper shimmering with snow swirling around it seems more intimidating than ever. As you push into the warm lobby, the two story Christmas tree steals your breath further. Decorated in golds, silvers, and crimson, two staircases curling on either side of it. 

You make your way up slowly, admiring the decor, hand gliding over the banister and reeling from the noise coming out of the transformed large ballroom. The space was used for a variety of events for the company, anywhere from big convention type conferences, parties, presentations and more. Steve had told you they’d put in a bar, a dance floor and stage, claiming this year’s Christmas party to be the biggest yet. 

Lucky you.

The room overflows out into the hallway with loud chatter, a jazz band playing familiar holiday songs. Boisterous laughter exploding each time the doors open and close, no doubt louder and more easily flowing from the contents inside the glasses you can hear clinking together and the pops of corks. 

You know you’re supposed to text Steve that you’re here, he said he’d come out and walk in with you, that he had been pulled in by his soon to be former boss. The thought of just going in by yourself is somehow easier though. Perhaps no one will even spare you a glance, not when you don’t have him next to you.

The room is even louder once you’re inside. The air smells like leather and cigars, champagne and scotch, stiff and overpowering floral perfume. It drips in luxury - mahogany tables, three Christmas trees, silver and gold candlesticks over burgundy table runners. 

Your feet carry you inside cautiously, and you spot the bar on the other side of the room and head towards it, ignoring the heat of strangers' stares. Feeling like every woman around you is eyeing you from head to toe, their judgment pushing up their chins and noses, rolling their eyes. Their dresses far more expensive and their makeup and hair done professionally. This was worse than the first time you went to Steve’s apartment. 

This was a big, big, massive mistake. 

When you make it to the bar, you order champagne that you can see already being prepped, hoping it’s comped or on the lower end, mentally preparing yourself for Steve insisting he’ll pay for it despite the zeros. The sharp bubbles slip over your tongue as you try to sip it slowly, eyes roaming over the crowd in search of Steve. 

“You look lost,” a deep voice comes from beside you. 

Turning, you find a man in a three piece navy suit that costs more than your rent. His hand holds a glass with three fingers of amber liquid over ice, a silver watch on his wrist that glints. His other is deep in his pocket, his posture nonchalant and lazy yet oozing with the confidence of a man who knows what he wants and how to get it. His jawline is familiar, clean and sharp, leading to soft brown eyes that roam over your face. He has two freckles next to his ear, and dark brown hair that’s just starting to gray. 

Your swallow is louder than the saxophone solo coming from the far end of the room as he removes his hand from his pocket, extends it to you, and says, “John.”

Fuck. 

“Mr. Harrington, it’s so nice to meet you,” your voice is calm, hand shaking his firmly while the inside of you screams, alarms inside your brain going off, shouting abort, abort, abort!

His lips twitch in a far too familiar way and he cocks his head, “Now, how do you know me and I don’t know you?”

You’re certain that everyone in this room knows who John Harrington is, and he knows it too. You squash the nerves inside of you, taking a deep breath. 

“Well, uh, Mr. Harrington-”

“Please, call me John.” He smiles, encouraging, and you nod, plastering on a bigger smile. 

“Right, Jo-John. I’m-”

“Honey, you don’t recognize her?” A softer, sweeter voice comes up behind him and her warm smile makes a little bit of your nerves disappear. That is until she says your name, and then:

“This is Steve’s friend.”

Friend. Friend. Friend. 

“Oh!” He snaps. “I forgot he decided to bring someone after all.”

Your lungs deflate, your stomach churns, you hear the way your heart cracks, chest aching from the pressure. 

Steve’s mom sticks out her hand, “Vivian.”

Introducing yourself far less confident, voice barely a murmur, cracking as you push out, “It’s really nice to meet both of you.”

“So,” John has a cigar in his mouth now, patting at his pockets for a lighter, frowning when Vivian takes it from between his lips, but he continues, “What do you do?”

“Oh, um,” you take a larger gulp of champagne before finishing, “I’m an assistant right now. But I hope to-”

“I’m sorry, what?” John interrupts you, his brows furrowed. Mrs. Harrington’s hand squeezes his bicep sharply, a smile plastered on her face. But he keeps going, “An assistant? How old are you? Your parents can’t be thrilled with-”

“Dad.” His voice is ice, a protective hand on the small of your back, appearing out of nowhere.  

You’ve heard Steve’s end of phone conversations with his dad, you’ve seen the way the people in this room acted just passing by him in the last few minutes, so you are shocked beyond belief when John Harrington closes his mouth at Steve’s singular warning. 

Vivian’s smile relaxes, her voice warm and syrupy, “Hi honey.” She hugs him and he only returns the gesture with one arm, the other keeping a firm grip on your waist as she pulls away and smiles, “We were just getting to know your friend-”

“Girlfriend,” he corrects quickly, strong, and nods at the bartender. You watch as the man behind the wood bar grabs a bottle from the very top shelf, pours two fingers, neat unlike his father, and Steve grabs the drink he didn’t have to order. Despite the last few moments, the tone and action has your thighs pushing together and you clear your throat as Steve’s thumb swipes over your spine. 

Vivian smiles, quietly correcting, “Right, girlfriend. She was just telling us what she does, right sweetheart?” Vivian pinches John’s arm again and he straightens, forcing a closed-lip smile. “So, an assistant, that’s…exciting?”

“I think we’re gonna go dance actually, we’ll talk to you later.” Steve’s voice leaves no room for argument. 

He starts to pull you away and you call over your shoulder, “It was nice meeting you.”

Steve pulls you through the crowd, his shoulders tense and the scotch tipped to his lips in one sip. He sets the empty glass on a passing tray, grabbing your champagne flute from your fingers as well. He stops in the shadow of one of the trees, his hands finding both of yours as he turns. 

“Honey, I think we have a real problem.”

Your heart and stomach drop even more, voice frail and small as you ask, “We do?”

He nods, face solemn, though his lips seem to be fighting a smile as sighs, “I’m afraid I can’t let you out of my sight all night in a dress like this.”

Relaxation floods over your veins, soothing your nerves as it feels like you finally exhale a breath you’ve been holding since last night. Still a little frazzled from the interaction, but a smile twitches your lips up slightly, forcing a light tone. 

“It’s okay? Up to the Harrington standards despite the girl inside it failing miserably?”

Steve hums, leaning in close, spice and stinging scotch on his breath as his nose traces yours. “I think the dress and the girl surpass all Harrington standards. They rearrange the meaning of the word babe.”

Your eyes roll, but your shoulders hunch again, hands smoothing over the lapels of his tux. “That’s a nice sentiment Mr. Harrington, but I think your parents would disagree on the matter.”

Steve’s eyes flash at the use of Mr. Harrington and your eyebrows raise, curious if it’s the authority of the name or the potential of you being a missus, but he’s too quick for you to investigate, bold and something in his eyes hungry. “Fuck my parents and their obnoxious standards. Every other person in this room wants to be you or be inside of you.”

“Steve.” Your head ducks at the forward compliment, “God, how much of that scotch have you had already?” 

“First glass.” His lips part, tongue licking over his top lip as he smirks, “I think you liked it though.”

“The comment or the way you ordered the drink?”

Steve, breathes into your lips as you tilt easily for him, mouth parting as he says, “Both.”

His hands press to your spine, a barely there kiss, when his name is called. He sighs, spinning to shake someone’s hand. The rest of the evening is spent with men clapping on his back and saying they’ll miss him. He holds your hand as he introduces you to co-workers he seems to genuinely like, flagging down servers and getting you glasses of champagne before they’re empty. Shushing you and kissing your temple when you ask how much it is. Maybe it’s the bubbles in your system, the pink flush to Steve’s cheeks when he stares at you, your name on his lips when he introduces you as his girlfriend, but the interaction with John and Vivian is long forgotten. 

All you can think about now, is how tonight has shown you a side of Steve you hadn’t seen before, and he looks good. He holds his drink that keeps being refilled without being ordered, slipping bills in waiters hands almost imperceptibly, their quiet ‘thank you Mr. Harrington.’ even more so if you weren’t listening. His suit is tailored to his body nicely, pieces of his hair falling over his forehead when he laughs in a charming and confident way. Steve is also handsy, and has been since he pulled you away from his parents. Squeezing your hip, running up your spine in the keyhole along it, pads of his fingers following the straps that hang off your shoulders back and forth, back and forth. Each touch of his skin to yours sparking like frayed wires. 

You excuse yourself quietly in the middle of a conversation about trading and something or other you can’t be bothered to listen to and Steve grabs your wrist, cocking his head in a silent question. You call out a little too loudly, maybe a little too flirty, “I’ll be right back, Mr. Harrington.”

The men around him smirk into their glasses and Steve watches you walk away, the color long gone from his eyes as his pupils take over. You feel the presence of his stare on your back as you make your way to the bar, only turning around when you have another glass in your hand. 

Steve’s still across the room, and you watch the path his eyes take over your body, heat rising to the surface of your skin in their trail like he’s physically touching you. He tracks you as you make your way to the exit, starting on your ankle, up your calf, then thigh. You’re almost able to feel his fingers sliding over the velvet, tracing the slit that exposes the skin. The cinch of merlot fabric on your hips and the way his hands would pause there and squeeze. You take another sip as they travel over the curve of your sweetheart neckline that shows off maybe a little too much. Tracing the path his lips could take over the straps, up your collarbones and neck, and they finally meet your eyes. 

His jaw is tight, tongue wetting his lips and gulping. His eyes narrow as you smile and you glance up at the familiar green holiday leaves hanging above the door, dropping your head and forming a fake pout. 

It takes Steve less than thirty seconds to cross the room, the now empty glass on a tray as he passes yet again, freeing his hands to grab onto your waist as he leans in. You let your bottom lip slip between the two of his, teasing and innocent. 

Steve groans as you bump the door open with your hip, letting your fingers linger on his chest, sighing, eyes wide, “Oh, I bet the view of the city is so beautiful on the 65th floor. You have a big, fancy office don’t you? Do you think I could see it, sir?”

He’s a man possessed. His mouth and hands haven’t stopped moving since the elevator closed. Clumsy lips and your name leaving him breathlessly as he pushed you into the railing as the floors climbed higher and higher. 

“Look too good, illegal, she was right,” he mouthed at your neck, slipping lower into your cleavage enough to make you laugh. 

“Wh-who was right?” 

He growled something that sounded like Robin’s name which made you laugh harder, stopping only when his mouth found yours. 

Steve shushed your giggles, leading you down the dark floor to the office at the corner, pulling the door closed and clicking the lock. 

A brown leather couch, gold lamps, a bookshelf and a cart full of bottles of fancy liquors and sparkling glasses. A giant, wood desk with a tall leather chair. A name plate that glinted and said Steve Harrington with a pair of wire rimmed glasses. 

You’d seen it before, but not on a night like tonight. Not with all the lights off, snow falling lazily across the skyline. Not with champagne in your system, not with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend who had confidence and charm, who commanded respect and attention. Who stood up to his parents for you, for what he wanted.

Steve stood behind you, hands on your hips again as he led you towards the desk. Sucking a bruise under your ear, tongue soothing the way his teeth scraped down your neck. He was wrecked, gone, could cum in his slacks right then and there with the view of you in his office in this dress. Would he miss being in charge at a place like this? Sure. But he had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last time he was a boss. 

His voice was strong, cinnamon and scotch on his breath as he commanded, “Bend over, baby.”

You laughed, arching over his desk slowly. Looking over your shoulder as you spread your legs and pouted, “Kind of bossy, Steve, not gonna even say please?”

Steve watched under heavy lids as you kept your gaze on his fingers moving over his buckle, the way your chest moved up and down quicker as he freed himself. He knelt behind you, pushing up the fabric of your dress. Kissing up your calves, your thighs, nipping at the curve of your ass and smirking when you yelped. 

He stood, hands landing on the desk on either side of yours, mouth a ghost over your ear, heaving chest pressed along your spine, and his hard erection pressing into your ass. 

“You think you’re cute, huh?”

A shiver ran through you at his tone, the way his breath hit your cheek and fingers overtook yours on the desk. 

You gasped out, parroting your conversation earlier, “I think you think I’m cute, Harrington.”

Steve’s nose skimmed the curve of your ear, tutting, “No more mister already? Where’d your manners go baby?”

He slid his tip against your clit, circles to it until your head fell forward in a gasp, slick coating his cock with barely anything to prompt it. 

Steve finally moved lower, his lips on your neck and his tip nudging at your entrance but pausing as he laughed, smirk pressed to your skin. “You are cute, though, honey. Prettiest,” he kissed your shoulder, “Sexiest,” a kiss below your ear, “Cutest thing here tonight.”

He kept his tip pressed to your entrance, waiting until your hips squirmed, till your fingers twitched below his. Breath warm on your jaw as he kept his voice even, confident, pulling himself back up to your clit and starting all over again as he spoke. 

“Know what’s even cuter though?”

You whimpered, head empty, nerves buzzing, and stomach burning as his lips brushed against your jaw with each word, head circling your clit and tapping again. 

“You’re about to be begging for me.”

#twelve days of superbly subpar writing #modern!steve harrington #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #we'll call it love #a we'll call it love blurb #Spotify

[wrongplacerighttime]

agent!harry x agent!fmc

the one where grace wants to forget and harry doesn’t. then she disappears. // little bunny part 5

well. here we are 🥺 the last part 🥺 brb i’m actually gonna cry about it.

little bunny masterlist

wc: 6.8k

tw: kidnapping, talks of murder, hurt/comfort trope, size kink, breeding kink (think that’s all) (as always let me know if i missed any)

bitter winds

It’s been the loneliest week of Grace’s life, she thinks. She’s been avoiding Harry like the plague, and he hasn’t necessarily been trying to see her, either. She knows she messed up, knows she broke the unspoken rule they seemed to have about not expressing feelings. It was supposed to be just sex.

They got back from Florida a few days ago, thankfully it was on Thursday and Aaron gave them Friday to rest. The weekend didn’t bring any new cases, so they didn’t speak. Didn’t have to be around each other

Harry had hovered over her name on his screen a time or two over the weekend (more like seven), and he just couldn’t bring himself to message or call. He stared at her name until the letters blurred together and it became illegible. He wanted to talk to her, but he couldn’t bring himself to take the plunge. He was afraid of his feelings, afraid of losing her because he didn’t know how to love her the way she deserved. She deserved someone good for her, and that wasn’t him…didn’t think it could ever be him. And he feels guilty—guilty that he’s taking something from her that he thinks he could never return.

Grace just doesn’t check her phone anyway, she hides under the covers and wishes it away. The feelings, the words she’d spoken…all of it. She replays his confusion on the other end of the phone, the way he said her name hesitantly, like he was warning her, at the words she had let slip. Words that were never intended to be spoken aloud. This humiliation feels like she’s stabbed herself in the chest, and his response was the twist of the knife.

——

Monday comes and Grace has to quite literally drag herself out of bed when her alarm blares through the tranquility of her room. She was half tempted to just not show up, but that wasn’t an option because she went AWOL during the last case after she confessed her love to Harry. She was angry at herself…at him. She knew it was misplaced. She had no reason to be in a sour mood, but she couldn’t help but just feel done. Her heart feels heavy in her chest, like it was full of concrete.

At the office, they keep their distance. She felt the pang in her heart when she heard his familiar footsteps walking through the door, and it took every fiber of effort to not look at him. She typed away on her keyboard, his eyes flitting to her once. When she didn’t so much as glance his way, he kept walking.

The tension was sharp, heavy. Their coworkers whispered to each other when they thought no one was listening, betting on which one would break first, sharing theories about what happened. As far as they were concerned the pair were innately opposite, but their banter kept the office light and airy. The cloud cover outside mirrored what it felt like in the office now. Cold and bitter and gloomy. Aarons door opening causes them all to look up. He looks around, raising a brow but choosing to ignore the uneasiness in the atmosphere.

“We have a case.”

——

Grace had a feeling of dread settled in her stomach the moment they landed in Caddo County, Oklahoma. It was January, it wasn’t terribly hot yet and it wasn’t tornado season, but something just felt off. She chalked it up to it being because of the case, just nervous. They made a home in the small police station, working with them to set up an area in the conference room and get to work. There have been a couple of murders in the small village of Fort Seminole. Small was an understatement. The population was less than 600 and the citizens were terrified that something like this was happening to their community. They thought it was the same person but called in the help of the FBI because they found a body dumped just three hours outside of Oklahoma in an even smaller town in Texas…and if it crossed state lines, it was a federal case anyway.

Aaron had made sure Grace and Harry were inevitably stuck working the geographical profile together, which means they would have to speak eventually. Somehow he had known that they had something they needed to work out, and he was hoping this would give them an excuse to do it.

The only sound in the conference room was the rustling of papers, cardstock and push pins. Grace had her back turned to Harry, shaking the box of pins, thinking to herself as she labeled the map. Red pins are for crime scenes and green are for the victims’ residence. She could feel his eyes on her, her heart felt like it was going a mile a minute and would beat out of her chest any second.

“Grace.” Her name coming from his lips is quiet, almost a whisper, and he’s tiptoeing around eggshells. She speaks before he can add anything else.

“Harry, listen. We don’t have to talk about it. We can just…go back to how things were before. Forget any of it ever happened, okay?” Her voice shakes, and he’s taken off guard by her statement.

“I don’t want to forget it, Grace.” His voice is soft, a gentleness she’s not used to hearing from him. It takes her by surprise. She bites the inside of her cheek, willing the stinging in the corners of her eyes to go away before she makes a fool of herself again.

“I think it’s better if we do.” She manages to say, swallowing the lump in her throat before turning back to the map so he can’t see her blinking the tears away. And he doesn’t know where this is coming from, because he meant what he said—he didn’t want to forget. He hears a sniffle coming from across the room and he watches her reach up to swipe a finger under the corner of her eye. All he wants to do is go to her, kiss her and tell her it’ll all be okay. That he feels the same.

He stays where he’s at, because if she wants to forget, he’ll try his best to forget, too.

——

Two days pass with no other incidents. They believe the suspect has likely caught wind of them being in town and has decided to lay low. They have alerts set up to send them any info on any case that is remotely similar to theirs within a 75 mile radius. Nothing, or anywhere, could be ruled out at this point. The radio never comes on, they never get any calls.

Grace chews on the end of her pen while reading over a report of the last victim. It just didn’t seem right. It felt like they were missing something. He was a single white male with no family in the area. His home had been left abandoned, frozen in time in the wake of his murder. The crime scene has long been cleaned but she believes she could still find something. She looks around, everyone else busy with their respective tasks and she decides she’ll just go alone.

“I’m going to the Jefferson house. See if we missed anything,” She mumbles to Aaron and he hums nodding once without looking up from the paper in front of him. She looks around, spotting Harry deep in conversation with a deputy and a pang stabs her heart. Her lips pressed together in a thin line, turning and walking out the double doors into the Oklahoman sunset.

The drive to the house was quick, easy to find. It was well put together, no mess or signs of a struggle inside due to the clean up crew already having gotten the place back in order. Dust rings rest on furniture, the only thing left of broken decor. The only indication a crime had happened here was the remnants of the bright yellow tape wound around the pillars of the front porch. Grace walks around, looking at the signs of someone’s livelihood, a life taken before it ever really got to begin, and she feels a twinge of guilt, grief for someone she didn’t even know. There were photos hung on the wall—pictures of the victim and their friends, pictures of their relatives with smiles so wide it was almost contagious. She shakes her head once, trying to shake away the thoughts and clear her mind.

She walks through, searching for anything that might stick out. She knew it would be almost impossible, but she was just hoping, praying, for something to catch her eye. She makes her way into the bathroom, taking in her surroundings and she spots a single drop of red on the white tile. When she bends down, she catches a glimpse of a blood soaked t-shirt in the bottom of the dirty laundry basket.

She stands, but before she can take another step, she feels a prick on her neck.

Then she blacks out.

——

When Grace comes to, her vision is blurry and her head is pounding. Her mouth feels drier than the Sahara and she tries to stand, but her legs are tied to the chair she’s sitting on, pulling on her hands she finds them bound behind her back. Her heart begins to race and her breathing becomes erratic.

“Pause. Breathe. In. Out.” She tells herself, blinking to clear the cloudiness from her dry eyes. She assesses the situation once her brain has calmed down enough to form a coherent thought. The room is dimly lit with one singular light bulb hanging over her head, the chair she’s sitting in is wooden and uncomfortable, rubbing the bare skin of her arms raw. Her hands feel like they’re bound with rope and she tries to pinpoint the nearest exit.

She can’t.

She turns the chair as much as she can without making herself topple over and she sees a set of stairs.

“Okay. I’m in a basement.” She says to herself, looking for anything she can maybe rub the rope against to loosen it or cut it. Then she hears a door opening followed by footsteps. She tries to calm her breathing and slow her heart rate. “Breathe. You’re trained for situations like this.”

A tall, burly man comes to stand in front of her. Her eyes flare with malice as he looks down at her, a scruffy beard hiding most of his lower half and a Stetson perched on the top of his head. His hair is long and greasy underneath, looking like it hadn’t been washed in days or even weeks.

He doesn’t say a word, just looks her over once from under the brim that hiding his features from her before snapping a singular picture of her with the polaroid camera she didn’t notice he’d carried in with him. The flash is blinding and leaves her vision spotty, forcing her eyes to squeeze shut. Without another word, he walks around her, back up the stairs and the door slams shut. She hears a lock twist and she’s alone again.

——

The next morning, Harry sits up in the uncomfortable motel bed, feeling like he slept on a plank of wood, and stretches his arms above his head. He’s already decided he’s going to try to talk to Grace today and apologize for being so distant. He wants to make it work, truly. He doesn’t want her to be afraid of loving him. She had left the police station around 6 PM yesterday and he didn’t see her before she came back to the motel so he decided to just leave her be when he rolled into the parking lot around 10:00. The light was off, as far as he could tell and he assumed she had been in bed already. She was always tired when they traveled outside of their own city, he had learned. She gave the excuse that it was due to not being in her own bed but he knew she was always overthinking and anxious about the cases they worked, getting too close to the families or friends of the victims and making her heart ache for them. That’s what made her a good agent, her heart was really in it to solve the case. It also sometimes got her in trouble.

He dresses for the day, brushing his teeth and looking in the mirror once before walking out the door of his room. He walks down the sidewalk of the dingy little motel, down to room 5, the one Grace would be in. He takes a deep breath, and he knocks. He waits.

Nothing.

He knocks again, “maybe she didn’t hear me?” He thinks. He waits and listens, no rustling behind the door. No footsteps drawing closer. He peeks through the window and he can just barely make out the shape of the bed that was still made through the crack in the curtains, and he thought it was unusual. Grace wasn’t the “make your bed every morning” type.

He makes his way to the station, looking around the room for her. He sees everyone except her. He starts to panic, and the room feels small and he can’t breathe.

“Styles. What’s wrong?” Aaron asks, watching Harry’s head swivel erratic like he was looking for something.

“Where’s Grace?” His words run together, tongue feeling thick in his mouth and dread forming a pit in his stomach.

“She’s probably still at the motel, I tried to call her but she didn’t answer.”

“She’s not there. The bed’s still made like she never even went in the room.” He runs a hand through his hair, heart pounding in his chest so hard he can hear it in his ears. “She’s not here and she’s not there. She’s gone. She’s missing.”

“Styles I’m sure there’s a logical explanation, let’s not jump to conclusions just yet.” Aaron tried to assure but he can’t help but feel a little scared also. He tries to call Grace again but it goes straight to voicemail. Before he can say anything, a deputy walks up to them holding an envelope. He hands it to Harry without a word, and Harry doesn’t look twice at the person handing it to him. He snatches it, flipping it over. Agent Styles is scrawled across the front. He slides his finger through the seal to open it, finding the back of a polaroid facing outwards. The same signature of the person they’re looking for. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before flipping it over.

It’s Grace.

Tied to a chair and peering up at the person taking the photo of her. She looks physically unharmed, and seeing her in this position breaks his fucking heart. He turns it around, shoving it in Aaron’s face.

“This logical enough for you?” He sneers before throwing it at him in a fit of rage, he doesn’t stay to watch it flutter to the floor as he turns towards the door, storming out to the sidewalk.

“Fuck!” He yells over and over, slapping his hands against the brick of the building. He leans his head against the rough wall, feeling angry and scared tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

And the only thing running through his brain is that he should’ve told her he loved her, too.

——

After a brief walk around the block to calm his brain, he walks back into the station where the energy is buzzing and nervous. He doesn’t know where to even start, like his mind has short circuited and all the knowledge he possesses about being an agent is just gone. Lost. He sees her photo up on the board labeled “missing” underneath and he almost crumbles then. He didn’t want her to be chalked up as just another person. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that the rest of the team wouldn’t allow it to be that way, he was just so fucking nervous. He spots Aaron leaned over the table looking at a map of the area and he makes a beeline for him, dodging around busy bodies in the room.

“Aaron, we have to find her. We have to.” His voice is shaky and he feels like a small puppy standing under its owner at the gaze of his boss. Aaron’s expression softens and he gives Harry an apologetic look.

“We will, Harry.” Harry nods. “I need your head clear. Are you able to work the case? If you’re not, I need you to stand down. I need your word.”

“Yes. My head is clear. I just want her back.” He nods, his voice sounding so small in the chatter around them. Aaron gives him a knowing look, nodding once back to him.

“She told me yesterday she was going to the Jefferson house. She wanted to see if they missed anything after the scene got cleaned up. She thought something was missing from the case.” He pauses, looking at Harry who’s staring blankly at the map in front of them. “I sent Jenna and Kelly to the house while you were out. They should be arriving any moment now.”

The waiting was the worst part.

Finally, the phone rang and they confirmed that the Jefferson house is where Grace was last seen. The car she took was left in the driveway unlocked with her phone on the driver's seat, along with her badge and gun. They couldn’t track her, and whoever it was knew that was the first thing they would try to do.

Back to square one.

——

Grace doesn’t know how long she’s been down here. Her mouth is still dry from whatever drug was injected into her and she could feel the numbness tingling in her fingertips from the position of her arms. The rope had rubbed her wrists raw and if she shifted it stung, making her wince in pain. She knows the man who took her is obviously wanting her to die of “natural” causes, or else he would’ve fed her something by now.

She thinks about the team. Have they figured out she’s been taken and not just disappeared on her own accord? She’s had time to sit with her thoughts, thoughts of Harry fill her mind. Will she see him again? Before long she’ll be dehydrated. She hasn’t had anything to drink, and all he’s done is take a picture of her and leave. He hasn’t been down here again. Even then he didn’t say anything. She’s pretty sure he just wants to leave her here to rot.

She tries to think of how to get herself out. She thinks of the face she saw and what features she could make out in the low lighting and she feels like it almost looks familiar to her. The eyes peeking under the black Stetson play over and over in her head, and then she hears the door opening again for the first time since he took the photo of her. She hears his footsteps moving closer to her. No Stetson, in uniform. And when he steps in front of her, she knows then.

“It’s you.” She sneers.

——

At the station, they all read over every single thread of evidence they have, but nothing is standing out. Grace always knew what to look for, able to connect the dots faster than any of them. Kelly had fallen asleep at the desk she had made a home in, refusing to leave until something had stuck out to her. Aaron was still staring at the map, and Harry was pacing, file in hand. Grace had said it felt like they were missing something before she left and he was determined to figure it out. It was her life on the line now.

He was reading a sentence when it stuck out to him.

The woman was never physically harmed, and the man was stabbed multiple times after being tortured, cuts on his back like he was beaten with a belt. Both had a polaroid picture on their back when they died, the man left in his home with one and the woman whose body was dumped across state lines had one too. They knew this, they thought it was some kind of twisted signature.

They didn’t account for both of them having a finger cut off.

Which makes this case very similar to one they worked in Arkansas a few years ago, but they never caught the guy. They profiled the man to have been missing a finger himself, the product of very traumatic abuse in childhood. They found both parents dead, his father with belt marks on his back and beaten and stabbed. The mom was left physically unharmed.

And they found his sister tied to a chair in the basement, body still warm. Harry had pulled her restraints off and performed life saving measures. They got her back, her heart had stopped just before they found her. Once she was well in the hospital they questioned her. She told them it was her brother Jack Henderson, and they searched everywhere for him. It seemed as though he had gone on the lam, probably crossing the border and the case had been left open until they did. He was on the most wanted list.

And he had been here.

In this station.

“Aaron. It’s Jack Henderson.” Harry says without looking up, staring at the file with wide eyes. Aaron looks at him quizzically. “We just thought this guy took the fingers as souvenirs and left the polaroids as some twisted game, right? It’s him. Same MO, brutally murdered the male, female was essentially physically unharmed. Didn’t we take a polaroid from his house as evidence? We found a bunch of pictures of his tortured father, and one of his sister strapped to that chair in their basement. He’s doing this to get our attention. Trying to prove that he will get away a second time.”

“He didn’t cut off the same fingers as his though? How can you be sure?”

“He’s the one who handed me the envelope with Grace’s picture. It didn’t stick out to me until I read that the woman’s first finger had been cut off and had disappeared. He’s trying to lead us off his trail because he’s not doing it exactly the same, he’s doing just enough to get our attention.” He pauses. “When the deputy brought me the envelope, it was addressed as Agent Styles. Not Mr., not Harry. Agent. No one in this town that we’ve talked to has addressed me as agent, how would the unsub know my name unless he already knew me.” Aaron nods, taking in his theory and thinking that this is the closest thing they have to making sense.

“Aaron. He’s doing this to get back at me, for saving his sister. His sister is in WITSEC. He can’t find her to finish the job…he’s going to take Grace from me.” His voice broke on the last part, and he almost fell to the floor, his knees growing weak. He knows how long a person can last without food or water, her organs will start to shut down after three days, that’s the average. It’s been almost that.

They waste no time pulling up the file on Jack Henderson. The show his picture to every deputy before someone recognizes him. He goes by an alias, Greg Price and he doesn’t look like the same guy he used to. The only reason one had recognized him was because he had seen an old picture in Greg’s house of him and his mother. No one batted an eye when he walked in the building dressed as a deputy because they were all paying attention to their own things, and the profilers expected this to be the last place he would’ve been.

Jack was new(ish) to town. In a village of not even 600 people, people who’d grown and lived their entire lives here, he’d never not be the new guy. He showed up with a moving truck and bought a house just outside of town. He’d faked his identity, his qualifications, and ended up being hired as a deputy not long after he moved here. They’d had his address, jumping into vehicles as the sheriff escorted them down the winding roads with lights and sirens.

They whipped into the yard, Harry not wasting any time by throwing the door open and jumping out before the car was even shifted into park. He draws his weapon, kicking open the door left cracked. The house is eerily quiet as he moves through the rooms, taking the role of point and clearing them with Aaron following his direction. They come to a door that’s locked with a chain lock and deadbolt.

Harry quickly turns the lock, undoing the chain and hesitantly makes his way down the stairs. He looks right, then left and there she is. Grace. All thoughts clear his brain besides any that have to do with her. He runs the short distance, dropping to his knees and taking her face between his hands, lifting her head as it lulls to the side.

“Grace. Wake up, baby.” He lightly taps her cheek and her eyes flutter behind her closed lids. He reaches behind her, untying the knot keeping her hands bound and they fall to her side. She’s weak, having passed out a short time before they got there. He checks her pulse, slow but steady enough to not cause concern and he blows out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in.

He unties her legs with one hand, taking her and carrying her up the stairs and to the medic on the scene. He stays with her as they hook her to an IV, poking her several times before they are able to find a vein not affected by the dehydration. They informed him where they were taking her but he insisted on riding with her, wanting to be there if she woke up and didn’t know where she was. He holds her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles and willing her to open her eyes and just look at him so he could talk to her. He runs his fingers over the angry red marks left on her wrists and he curses himself for not being there sooner.

Things pass in a blur after that, the adrenaline of the past few wearing off and exhaustion taking over his body. He stays with her until they clear her to leave, and she doesn’t talk. Doesn’t say a word, not for a few hours at least.

“I’m sorry.” He hears her whisper finally, looking out the window. “I should’ve taken someone with me.”

“It’s not your fault. Please don’t blame yourself.” He reassures her, and she nods once, and that’s all she says.

The morning hours creep into the sky, Aaron comes to get them, taking them back to the motel. Harry walks Grace to her room, unlocking and opening the door for her.

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks, brushing her hair behind her ear and she shakes her head as she leans into his touch. He wanted to say the words, seeing the sadness and pain in her eyes all he wanted to do was say them. He swallows them down.

“No. I’ll be okay. I just need a shower, and sleep. Still tired.” He nods, hesitating to leave her, not wanting to take his eyes off her ever again. But he lets her be alone, trudging back to his own room and collapsing into the bed.

She sits in the shower after scrubbing her entire body raw, hugging her knees to her chest and letting the water run over her until it’s freezing and she’s shivering and she forced herself to get up. She dresses, going to the bed and pulling the covers up to her chin, daylight filtering through the window.

She doesn’t sleep.

——

Later that night, when they’re back in D.C, Harry takes her hand and leads her into her apartment. It’s the first time he’s been here and it’s just so…her. She hasn’t said much, and he doesn’t expect her to. Her mind is still reeling from the traumatic events of the past few days.

“Do you want to eat or anything?” He asks, his voice quiet and timid. She shakes her head, having no appetite. She swore to Aaron on the jet that she would never step foot in the state of Oklahoma ever again, and he told her she wouldn’t have to. He would make sure of it. They ended up finding Jack heading West out of the state, likely back towards Mexico. She’s not looking forward to the trial she’ll inevitably have to sit through and recount the experience.

“Okay.” He nods, looking around, shoving his hands in his pockets as he faces her. One arm crossed over her chest and she looks at the floor, tears brimming her lashline and she tried to blink them away, feeling like her emotions are a rollercoaster she can’t get off of.

“Just wanna go to bed, I think.” She mumbles. He nods, moving to walk around her and leave but she stops him.

“Wait.” She grabs his arm, looking up at him with pain in her eyes and he almost crumbles right then. “Don’t go. Please. I don’t want to be alone right now. Will you stay?” And he would, a million times over just for her. He’d do anything for her.

“Yes, baby. Of course. Just didn’t know if you’d want me here.”

“Always want you with me.” She looks towards the floor again, her voice sounding so small and he moves closer, placing his hands on either side of her face and forcing her to look up at him.

“I know, sweet girl. Always want you with me, too. Never gonna let you out of my sight again, okay?” He looks at her, his eyes flitting between hers and she nods, her bottom lip quivering as he pulls her into his chest and wraps his arms around her. She fists his shirt and he kisses the top of her head ever so gently, the sweet smell of her hair filling his senses and she’s all he knows. All he ever wants to know. “Let’s go to bed.”

She leads him down the small hallway to her room, but he leads her to her bed and makes her sit on the edge. He goes into her closet and picks out something for her to wear to bed, something comfortable and he kneels in front of her, untying the laces of her boots and pulling them off of her. Taking her hands in his, he brings her wrists to his mouth and kisses over the marks left on them, gently so as to not irritate them further. He runs his hands from her calves up to her thighs, flicking the button undone and she shifts her hips as he pulls the denim from her legs. Leaning in, he peppers small kisses right above her knees and savors the feeling of her skin against his lips. She watches him below her, a heat swirling just below her navel and she forces her mind away from those thoughts. He reaches up, lifting the hem of her shirt as she raises her arms, discarding the t-shirt on the floor with her jeans. He swallows when he notices her chest is bare, her nipples hardening when the cool air hits her skin and she sucks in a breath. His hands run up her thighs and grip her hips, pulling her body closer to him. Grace tangles her hands in his hair at the nape of his neck like she knows he likes,dipping down and brushing her nose against his. He smiles, looking over her features with admiration in his eyes. Her freckles spanning over her cheeks, the pink of her lips that he loves to kiss, her eyes so blue he could swim in them. She nudges him again, finally touching her lips to his.

He kisses her gently, not wanting to lead her into anything she might not want to do. She pushes her lips against his, and he sucks in a breath through his nose as she arches her back. Her chest presses against him and his hands sprawl across her back, holding her as close as he can get her. He sighs against her lips, moving to crawl over top of her and slotting his knee between her thighs without breaking their kiss. She lays back, his arms caging around her head as his muscles flex and extend to bear his weight. Their tongues dance together now, and she whines into his mouth causing him to pull away just enough to look at her.

“Grace.” He says her name breathlessly, his brows furrowing together slightly. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby. Just got you back. We don’t have to do this.” She shakes her head, her chin jutting upwards and pushing her body into his again.

“You won’t. Promise. Just need you. Missed you so much, Harry.” She whispers, but she can still see the uncertainty in his eyes. “Please. Help me forget, just want to forget about it for a while.” Her voice wavers slightly and he nods once. She grinds against his leg and her eyes flutter closed as a jolt of pleasure runs down her spine, and how can he resist when she just looks so pretty underneath him like this? He shifts his weight to one arm, his fingers dancing down her skin so delicately. He feels the way her stomach flexes under his fingertips, sensitive and wanting to push against him more. He grips her hip, fingertips dimpling the skin underneath and she wraps her legs around his waist. He grinds against her, creating friction between them as she moans into his mouth.

“Fuck, Grace. You get me so worked up. Wanna fuck you, but just wanna take care of you.”

“Please, Har. Please. Fuck me.” She begs and he smirks at her eagerness, dropping his head to her shoulder and sinking his teeth into the skin of her collarbone. Her hips rut against him and she cries out, the sensation taking her off guard before he soothes with his tongue and kisses so gently. He pushes himself up onto his knees, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. Grace watches him through hazy eyes and she takes her bottom lip between her teeth.

“So pretty.” He mumbles from above her, pulling the belt from the loops and she wants to squeeze her thighs together but his body between them blocks her from doing so. He pushes the both his jeans and briefs down in one go, kicking them from his legs as he wraps his own hand around the base of his hard cock and tugging a few times before he leans back over her. She can feel the tip of him nudging at her hole through the material of her underwear and she reaches between their bodies. She wraps her own hand around him, his head dropping to her chest and he swears under his breath.

“Please.” She whines, begging him for anything he’ll give her. Truthfully, he’s just so caught up in having her back that he wants to just savor the moment, take his time with her. Something he doesn't get to do often. He moves the material of her underwear to the side, dragging a finger through her arousal and collecting it there. He brings it up, taking it into his mouth and wrapping his lips around it, tasting her.

“Taste so sweet, bunny. Sweetest I’ve ever had.” He whispers in her ear and she swears she can feel herself melting into the mattress. Unable to wait any longer, he pushes her panties down her thighs and she kicks them off. Harry drags the tip of his cock through her folds once before pushing against her weepy hole. He’s so used to just pounding into her, and he likes the change of pace. Likes watching her squirm while she waits, trying to buck into him and get more of him inside her.

“Let me go slow, Grace. Just got you back. Let me take my time with you.” She nods slowly and he smiles down at her. “That’s my girl.” He feels her clenching around almost nothing and he throws his head back, eyes fluttering closed as he pushes ever so slowly into her. So tight he’s seeing stars. Her jaw goes slack and all she can do is take it, insatiable for the feeling of him stretching her and filling her.

“So fucking tight, bunny. Gonna squeeze the life out of me.” He grumbles. He grabs her hips again, squeezing and he lifts her so slightly to adjust the angle. He pushes all the way in, dropping his gaze and watching the way he disappears inside her. He could almost cum right then.

“Fuck, barely fits doesn’t it? Taking me so fucking good, sweet girl. Look at you.” He croons, his words pushing through the pleasure buzzing around her brain and she wiggles her hips, bucking up into him before he forces them back down. He pulls out at a torturous pace, her arousal coating him and sending his brain haywire.

“Kiss me.” She breathes out, and he does. He pushes back into her, leaning over her and forcefully pressing his lips to hers. They’re a mix of pants and moans as he sets his pace, comfortable and slow, allowing her to feel every inch of him. The stretch feels like a delicious mix of pain and pleasure, and every time his hips meet hers she can feel him so fucking deep inside her she could cry. “So deep Har, feels so fucking good.” Her back arches off the bed and he kisses the valley between her breasts as she fists the sheets beneath them.

“Yeah? Feel me all the way in your belly?” He feels a haze settling over his mind and he takes her hand, bringing it between their bodies and resting her palm just below her navel with his hand over hers. He presses her hand down slightly, and as he drives into her again and again she feels tears brimming her lash line at the sensation, a smirk painted on his face. “Feel that? Know you do. Only I can do this, right bunny? I’m the only one who can fuck you like this.” He mumbles into her ear and she nods wordlessly, unable to form a coherent sentence. “There you go, baby. Feel so fucking good around my cock.”

“More.” She gasps and he obliges, picking up his pace slightly and he hits just the right spot every time. She knows it’s coming, dangling by fingertips on the edge of that blissful feeling as she feels the spool begin to unravel.

“Gonna get you all full of me, sweet girl. Let me give you my babies, yeah? Give you everything, be such a good mama.” He grits out through his teeth clenched together and she feels dizzy, his words penetrating a spot in her brain she didn’t know existed until him.

“Fuck, Harry.” She whines and he smiles against the curve of her neck, knowing she loves when he talks to her like this.

“Yeah? Like the thought of that? Look so fucking cute with your belly all swollen ‘cause of me. Know you would.” He mumbles and he’s picturing it, picturing it all in his brain and trying to hold onto his release as long as he can. His hips rock into her and she’s still got her hand on her belly and he dips down, attaching his lips around one of her hardened peaks on her breast and her body jolts, her pussy squeezing around him. He knows she’s close. He rolls her nipple between his teeth, flicking with his tongue and he feels her fluttering around him.

“Please Har. Need it so bad. Please cum in me, please.” Her words are jumbled and falling from her lips with ease.

“Never wanna be without you, sweet girl. Love you so fucking much.” He’s a mess of moans and whispering sweet nothings in her ear, determined to never let her question his intentions ever again, and it sends her over, eyes squeezing together so tightly she sees stars. The thread unravels and she throws her arms around his neck, holding him close to her. Her legs wrap around his hips and he thrusts into her one more time before he’s filling her to the hilt, spilling his warmth into her. And it’s so warm, making her head feel fuzzy.

They lay there, legs still wrapped around his hips, sweaty skin sticking together. He pulls back and a lazy grin spreads across her face when his eyes meet hers. She brings her hand up, poking a finger to his nose and he smiles wide at her, a sparkle dancing in his eye and just being in awe of her beauty…her flushed cheeks, her wet lashes, her swollen lips from kisses, her little baby hairs sticking to her temple with sweat. And they stay there, holding each other, saying I love you through light touches and longing gazes, without using any words.

But they don’t need to.

They just know.

taglist: @indierockgirrl @hermionelove @storyschanging @hannah9921

divider by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry #harry styles x fmc #styles #harry fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #fic #harry styles fluff #harry smut #harry edward styles #harry styles x oc #harry styles blurbs #harry styles blurb #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #one direction #harry styles one direction #harry styles fandom #little bunny #bitter winds

[the-guilty-writer]

Pick Your Poison

Request: from @doctorsteeb OH YOU SAY YOU NEED MORE ROSSI!DAUGHTER REQUEST?? I AM HERE I HAVE ARRIVED

Rossi!daughter being a barista and unknowingly serving BAU their coffee all the time? Then eventually learning she’s rossi’s daughter?

(Tell me if this is Too Specific I can be more vague)

David Rossi x daughter!reader, Criminal minds x platonic!reader

Summary: You've been serving coffee to the BAU team for months... imagine their shock when they learn that you're David Rossi's daughter.

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I love writing rossi daughter. The sass, the italian nicknames, the banter- it's so much fun! I hope you enjoy this! (this does include the request of reader having studied abroad but I'm doing a seprate fic for that one as well)

CW: an absurd amount of talk about types of coffee, if you look up the meaning of rossi's nickname for reader you might cry

---

It was 4:00 AM when your shift at the coffee shop began. It didn’t open until 5:00, but you were in charge of opening the place yourself. You didn’t mind, though; it gave you time to think about how you might mess with your dad’s co-workers that day.

Rossi went back to work at the BAU just before you entered high school. With his busy work schedule, you both agreed that a boarding school close to home would be best. When it came time for college, you applied to a few schools in the States, but you had an itch to see the world. It was an incredible, well-earned surprise when you were accepted into the University of Bologna in Italy. Your dad had been incredibly supportive, and even though your extended family was dysfunctional at best, he was happy you’d be going somewhere there were relatives nearby.

You loved Italy, but after graduation you had wanted to move home and take a gap year. A friend from high school had opened a coffee shop not far from the Quantico office, and having been a barista at a local shop through college to help pay for your student costs (not that you needed it when your dad could easily afford your tuition) it was the perfect situation.

The fact that your dad’s co-workers were your most frequent customers didn’t hurt either. Not that they knew you were David Rossi’s daughter - your tag only displayed your given name - but it was interesting to have such casual interactions with the people your father spent most of his time with. And having been raised by a profiler, you had a little too much fun knowing something that the best minds in the nation didn’t.

---

It was 4:56 AM when Aaron Hotchner pushed open the door to the shop. Had it been any other customer, you would have told them that it didn’t actually open for another four minutes, but the man was there frequently enough that you really didn’t care. Plus, his order was about as simple as possible to make: a robusta medium roast from Columbia with a single shot of espresso. After only a few weeks, you noticed that he ordered an extra shot in his morning coffee about three days after a case, when the paperwork was the most heavy. This happened to be one of those days.

“Good morning, Mr. Hotchner,” you greeted him. “I’m already working on your usual this morning, unless of course you would like to try something new.” You knew he wouldn’t.

“Thank you,” he said, looking down at his watch. “Could I get an extra shot of espresso?”

You put a lid on the cup and handed it to him, moving to the register to ring him up. “Already done,” you told him.

He chuckled a bit- the smallest smile escaping his lips. “Do I really look that bad?” He handed you cash as he always did so he could leave the change in the tip jar. This morning he was either so tired he hadn’t thought about the bill he pulled out of his wallet, or he was feeling generous. By what you had heard about him from your dad, it was probably the latter.

“Not at all,” you handed him his change. “We all need the extra boost some days.”

“Thank you,” he said, putting all his change in the jar before leaving the shop.

He hurried out so quickly he didn’t even notice that you had written out his order on the board of specials for the day, calling it “The Unit Chief”.

---

As always, Spencer Reid was the first customer you served once the shop had officially opened. The doctor, unlike his boss, enjoyed exploring the different brews - always asking what region the beans had come from and giving you facts or statistics about his drink choice for that day. You listened to him ramble as you prepared him an arabica light roast grown in Asia; a bean the shop had just received.

“About a third of the world's coffee comes from Asia, but when asked the average American usually assumes that their coffee has been grown in Latin America or Africa,” he explained. “It’s also widely agreed upon by coffee enthusiasts that Asia produces the sweetest coffee.”

“Well then you won’t be needing as much sweetener as normal, Doctor,” you said as you handed him his order. “But I refilled the jar of sugar just for you.”

“Oh, thanks,” he said, grabbing three packs of sugar- two less than normal- and stuffing them into his jacket pocket. “Have a nice day!” He smiled awkwardly before turning and leaving out the door.

As soon as he left you wrote down his order on the specials board, deeming it “The Genius”. He wouldn’t notice you wrote the same words on his cup until he sat down at Quantico.

---

You weren’t quite sure who would be in to get their coffee next, but you smiled when it was Agent Jerau. There was something about the petite blonde and how easily she made conversation that brought a sense of serenity to your day. The rest of the team were very distinct- the kind of people you could look at and simply believe that they worked for the BAU- but other than being absurdly pretty, Jennifer was normal.

Even her arabica “bean of the day” cappuccino was the most common order out of all of them, with the exception that she always bought a single iced cookie to go with it.

“In all the time I’ve worked here I haven’t actually tried these cookies,” you told her as you pulled one out of the pastry display and put it in a bag.

“Neither have I,” she said. “But my son loves them.”

You thought of the little blonde boy that sometimes accompanied her and her fiance to the shop on the weekends. He always got a cup of steamed milk to look like his parents, but he always ended up dunking his cookie in it when they sat down at a table.

“I’ll have to try one then.”

The agent left before she could notice the board, which had her order paired with an iced cookie named “The Mother” written among the rest.

---

Per usual, Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia came into the shop together. You knew their flirtatious behavior was actually a demonstration of a platonic friendship, but that was only because Rossi had told you so.

“Baby Girl,” Morgan said to Garcia as you handed him his normal robusta medium roast red eye with just enough hazelnut creamer that the coffee wasn’t ridiculously bitter, “I’ve got the payment for today.”

“Derek, you know very well that I can and will hack into the system and change the credit card number to mine,” she told him, quickly glancing at you to say. “I promise I’m not stealing money from the shop. I love local businesses. If anything I would give you more money so this place stays open.”

You smiled, preparing her extremely complex order that changed slightly from day-to-day but always stayed as sweet as possible. Today it was an arabica medium roast from Ethiopia with all the fixings to complete the order into a chocolate caramel mocha.

“I’m sure my boss would appreciate that,” you told her. The idea of your father having to deal with a woman as sweet and eccentric as Penelope never failed to make you laugh.

She dug a handful of coins out of her purse to put in the tip jar before her and Morgan bid you a good day and left to go to work. You adjusted the order labeled “The Techie” to fit her drink for that day, but left Derek’s alone - “The Door Destroyer.”

---

Emily Prentiss was the last of the team to grab her coffee that morning. You were aware that she was the most observant in everyday situations, but that morning she was behind schedule by around ten minutes. Her boots clicked against the floor of the shop - lower pitched than the sound of heels but higher than those of men’s shoes. She moved fast towards the counter.

“I have your order ready,” you told her. “Robusta african dark roast latte with a double shot of espresso.”

“Thank you so much.” She paid quickly, leaving a handsome tip.

In all her rush her observation skills had faltered. Not only had she missed that she had a milk mustache, but she also didn’t see that her order on the board was labeled “The Modern Femme Fatale”.

---

“So,” Rossi said casually. “The best coffee near Quantico?”

With all the extra paperwork, the team had decided they needed extra caffeine, a short break, and some fresh air. Even Hotch thought it was a good idea, which is how David Rossi ended up walking towards the Pick Your Poison coffee shop with the rest of the BAU.

“It’s great,” Reid started. “They let you pick everything from the location, the bean type, the roast. There was this one time they got in a robusta from Brazil that-”

“Or you can just pick from their menu,” JJ told Rossi, interrupting Reid before he could go on any further. “It doesn’t have to be complicated.”

“If you say so,” Rossi replied nonchalantly.

The team filed into the cafe and he saw you working behind the counter, your hair pulled away from your face as you checked the machinery. You looked up at them as they entered, all still oblivious to the small daily specials board that had their orders on it.

They greeted you and ordered one at a time, the same thing each of them had gotten that morning, leaving Rossi for last. He smiled when he stepped up to the counter and pulled you into a hug. “Mio passerotta.”

You returned his hug, a wide smile spreading across your face. “Ciao, Papa.”

“Wait-” Emily, being the only other person in the room who spoke Italian, picked up on it first. “You’re Rossi’s daughter?”

You laughed. “Have been all my life.”

The team looked around at one another, all slightly confused.

“How did you not know that we work with your dad?” JJ asked.

You shook your head. “Oh, no. I knew. I just wanted to see how long it would take you all to figure it out.”

Morgan looked stunned, Garcia’s jaw couldn’t drop any further, and Reid was tilting his head, probably trying to pick out the similarities between you and your dad.

Hotch turned to Rossi. “Dave, care to explain?”

“It was her idea, not mine.” He held up his hands defensively.

"You've been working here for five months, three weeks, and six days," Reid said.

"That is an excellent observation, doctor," you replied. "In my dad's defense, he said I had to confess before the six month mark."

"I'm suprised it took a confession in the first place," Rossi, then turned to you. “Now, I’ll speak in English so the nerds can understand. What specials do you have today?”

“Well,” You glanced at the special’s board, “If you’re going for the most caffeine I would choose “The Unit Chief” or “The Modern Femme Fatale”. “The Door Destroyer” has the strongest flavor on the bitter side and both “The Genius” and “The Techie” lean towards sweet. I’d recommend “The Mother”, but it’s past 11 AM and we all know how la mia bisnonna feels about cappuccinos past the morning.”

The team looked around at one another in complete shock over the specials order board you had put together. A smirk crossed your face as they gawked at you ever so slightly.

Your dad chuckled. “I’ll just go with a good old fashioned un caffe, then.”

“Presto in arrivo,” you said, and got to work on everyone’s order’s, but not before adding a single shot of espresso to the board called “Mia Papa.”

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #david rossi #rossi x daughter!reader #rossi x child!reader #david rossi x daughter!reader #david rossi x child!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x platonic!reader #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x child!reader

[dadyscumslutprincess20]

Hi! May i request for a ryu shi oh x reader? Where reader found out she was pregnant by ryu shi oh and went to his office to suprise him but saw him with tsegtseg/nam-soon and decide to talk to him later at night and where reader also made dinner and waited for him for hours (yk the ep where ryu shi oh and nam-soon went on a restaurant) and asked him if he have eaten or not, and she felt insecure about it because he never eat without her, etc. Thanks in advance if you ever see this!

Pairing : Ryu sh oh x fem ! Reader (Korean and black )

(A/n~ sorry it been a minute I’ve been having trouble with something but I’m 21 now 🥰also trying to learn Korean so I’m might add it a bit here and there any fluent s Korean speaks please give feedback💕)

Genre : angst

Requested

Warning : pregnancy

Small summary : It was around 7:30 pm when you started to make dinner you knew that Ryu shi oh wouldn’t be home until 8:30 pm as he did even night if he would take longer he always let you know .. but what if he didn’t call ..and it’s now 10:00 at night

It was around 2:00 in the afternoon as you were sitting in the doctors office waiting for the doctor to come back in the room with whatever results that had to give you as you prayed in your head that it wasn’t anything serious

It’s been a few weeks since you started to feel sick and you weren’t the type to get sick so easily yet here you were in the doctors office since every morning you would vomit for up to 5 minutes even if you didn’t eat anything the night before

You would wake up some times with a throbbing headache not able to get out of bed from the pain as you would just cry yourself to sleep trying to ignore the pain in your head

Soon after you couldn’t eat things you would normally eat , if you ate your favorite foods or snacks you would have the urge to throw up or the smell would cause you to vomit after a while you couldn’t take it anymore which resulted in you being here

Letting out a sigh as your eyes scan around the huge office as the room was silent causing you to become a bit more nervous then you already were after a hour of waiting you hear the door open as your head looks in the direction of the door as you see the doctor enter the room a soft smile on her face as she walks further into the room the door closing slowly behind her

“Hi , reader how you feeling” Doctor Lee asks as she give you a caring smile giving you a glance before looking back at her clipboard in her hands

“Fine..” reader says nervously as your eyes never leave the doctors figure as she stands in front of you a few feet away as she writes something down

“That’s good , so you seem to be completely healthy nothing to worry about but we also have some thing else we wanted to talk to you about” Doctor Lee says as she stops writing on her clipboard as she looks at you with a smile

“Is there something else ?..” reader asks as Doctor Lee nods her head up and down the same soft smile on her face as she continues to look at you

“What is it..” reader says softly as your now waiting for what she was going to stay as your brows furrowed

“So all test came back great but .. the pregnancy test came back positive, your pregnant we don’t know how far along yet so we need the make you a follow up appointment” Doctor Lee says to you as she give you a smile

After setting up your follow up appointment with Doctor Lee giving her a quick good bye once your appointment was over as you head out of the office towards the front desk as Doctor Lee informs them about your appointment taking down your information before you quickly head out of the building

Getting inside the car as the driver held your door open as you held a small smile on your face making sure to have the driver stop at a new by store as you wanted to get a gift for Ryu shi oh and let him know the good news

After purchasing the gift and a gift bag to put it in you then head for Ryu Shi oh which you knew he would be at would in his office luckily for you it was only a few block from the store you came out of

Once you arrived at the building (forgot the name of it) grabbing the gift as you head inside the building fretting the workers as you pass by as you give most a warm smile since most faces looked knew as you head towards the elevator pressing the open button waiting for the elevator to open as you step inside the elevator quickly pressing the top floor button

Since Ryu shi oh’s office was on the top floor of the building no one that he didn’t give permission or wasn’t some one he had a least a bit of trust in wasn’t allowed on the top floor

Stepping out of the elevator as you held a huge smile on your face holding the gift bag in both hands as you walk down the long hallway as the sound of your heels echo through out the empty halls

As you got closer to the office doors you heard a giggle tighten your hold on the bag as you start to feel a bit nervous as thoughts start to run through your mind

Stopping in front of the door as you notice that one of the doors was left cracked a bit , taking a deep breath as you quietly poke your head in the room but not to much so you wouldn’t be noticed

Eyes slightly widening as you notice a women in the room with Ryu Shi Oh as you breathing becomes a bit heavy .. she was leaning super close to him as she sat on his desk but that wasn’t the thing that caught your eye .. it was the way he was smiling at her the same smile he only ever showed you

Feeling a tap on your shoulder as you jump a bit turning to see his guard as he stood over you looking down at you without saying a word quickly giving him the gift as you tell him to give it to Shi oh before walking down the hall

Letting out a sigh as you turn to look at the clock the hung in the kitchen to the right side of the dining table , that was 5 hours ago .. standing from the table as you pick up your empty plate heading to the kitchen as you place it inside the dish washer before going in the living room turning on {favorite show} as I sat and waited

After half a hour you heard the front door open as it closed a few minutes after , sighing as you hear Ryu Shi oh take off his work shoes as he walks into the house turning to see you sitting on the couch as he walks over to give you a kiss

“Did you eat..” reader says with no emotion eyes not leaving the tv

“Yea , why are you still up?” Ryu Shi oh asks as he sits down beside you once he realized you weren’t going to give him a kiss as you usually would making him a bit confused

“ 너 창녀랑 재밌게 놀아?” Reader says as she turns to Shi oh giving him a cold look before turning back towards the tv

(Translation: Do you have fun with prostitutes?)

“What..” Ryu Shi oh says as let looks at you

“What are you talking about” He finishes waiting for your reply as you chuckle before standing to your feet as you turn to look at him once more

“Don’t act dumb, yah , I came to see today the tell you about our baby that I just found out about only for you the be giggling up with a whore not only that you ate with her didn’t you” reader says eyes not leaving his once

“ 대답도 하지 말고그냥..소파에서자요 응?..”readers says as she lets out a sigh breaking eye contact with Ryu Shi oh as she starts to feel more hurt

Translation : Don’t even answer, just .. sleep on the sofa , okay?

“ 아침에 얘기하자” reader finishes as she turns on her heels leaving a dumb founded Ryu Shi oh as he tries to process the new information now realizing he had to fix it before it was to late

Translation: Let’s talk in the morning

#black reader #fem reader #female reader #smut #x reader #strong girl nam soon #ryu shi oh x reader #ryu shi oh

[yuna542]

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 10<-

Part 11

Pairing: Jeongin x reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: 18+, Smut, under 18 DNI!Suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, unprotected sex (just don‘t!), bloody nose

Word Count: 5.4k

Note: Sooo. What do you think of this part? Maybe you noticed where I got my inspiration from (M/V. Making off?) Love our baby bread who is not so baby anymore… For real have you seen the 5-Star Trailer? Uffhhgg watched it like 10000000 times

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

When you took the note off your door in the morning, you wanted to break down and cry on the spot.

But you didn't have time for that. So you stuffed the paper into your pocket and headed off to work.

Only when you got to your office you dared to take the paper out again, and you had to read it at least three times before you understood the words on the yellow background. Your hands shook and despair gripped you as soon as the word 'eviction notice' even came into the corner of your eye.

Although you tried hard to remain calm, you could feel the frantic typing as you entered the number in your phone that was at the bottom of the letter.

After endless beeping, the administration of the building complex you were currently living in finally answered. You had gotten the apartment out of luck via relationships and it was a miracle that it was affordable despite the ideal location for you.

And now you were supposed to move out within a week because the building was going to be demolished.

After several questions, the annoyed administrative worker could only confirm to you what was already on the note anyway. You had to leave your apartment by the end of the week.

With the current rent prices it was impossible to find a halfway affordable apartment within a week and the panic of being homeless until the end of the week spread more and more inside you.

But when there was a knock on your door, you furtively wiped the tears from the corners of your eyes and put on a carefree smile as soon as Chan poked his head into the room:

"Morning, babe. We're about to take off."

You had completely forgotten about that with all the stress. Quickly, you nodded:

"I'll be right there!"

Today was the teaser shoot for the music video.

You had no choice but to put on your professional mask and start working.

As you got into the car with Chan, where the guys were already waiting, you were showered with energetic vibes. They were all looking forward to the first shoot and the energy soon transferred to you as well.

Even though you couldn't completely banish the dark thoughts from your mind, you had to focus on your work when you arrived.

The film crew was getting everything ready while the guys were sent to makeup to change and get ready.

The video would be set in a sports hall and the guys would be playing basketball. There would be some sporty and handsome shots that would surely please the fans.

Han was the first to notice that something was wrong with you.

"You look tired... Are you okay?", he asked as everyone just waited for Chan and Hyunjin's hairstyles to be done.

"Yes all good, Ji. Don't worry about it", you said quickly. Too quickly and that's when the Director began to speak.

He gave the guys instructions on how they would first shoot individually or as couples and then mimic a little basketball game as a team.

You retreated to the bleachers with the film crew and when you had a few free minutes, you looked for possible apartments, but that brought you much closer to a breakdown. You couldn't afford any of them and most of them were way too far away. You would need several hours to get to work and that would not be possible with the strict schedules.

When out of nowhere you felt a hand on your leg, you flinched violently and almost threw your phone off the stand. Jeongin looked at you with wide eyes and raised his hands placatingly.

"Take it easy! It's just me."

Behind him, Felix followed, and they both looked like they could see right into your head.

"Are you guys finished yet?", you asked, trying a half-cheerful smile.

They took you in the middle and Felix didn't hesitate to pull you into his arm.

"We just have to do the group shots. Hyunjin and Changbin are on it right now."

You put your temple against his with a sigh and breathed in his sunny scent.

They all looked really really good with the school uniforms. So the video should have a nostalgic vibe and even you felt transported back to your school days when you saw the typical uniforms. But in the past, the guys at your school had never been as attractive as the ones who were now chasing the ball in the hall.

"Do you want to talk?", he asked, and he stroked your arm reassuringly.

With a quick glance at Jeongin, who gave you a sweet smile, you sighed. So Jeongin had pulled out the secret weapon to elicit the reason for your worries.

You couldn't lie to Felix. He was too kind and bright. It was impossible to hide your feelings from him.

"The building complex I live in is going to be torn down. I have until the end of the week to get out of my apartment“, you explained quietly.

But no one heard you anyway. The song played on and off while the cameramen were busy getting good shots of Hyunjin and Changbin with the basketball.

"This sucks", I.N commented and you had to laugh bitterly.

"I’m sure we‘ll find a solution“, Felix tried to cheer you up, but you could just shake your head.

"I can't afford most of the apartments and it's impossible to find something in that short time."

The guys gave each other meaningful looks, but before Felix could answer, he was called by the director. It was time for the whole group to take group shots.

It was too funny to watch the boys trying to recreate a real game. Han was so afraid of the ball that he kept running around the others, Changbin and Chan tried to shoot at the baskets, while Lee Know and Hyunjin chased each other around the court, screaming at each other.

It took forever for them to get a few scenes halfway done, but they had so much fun doing it that they infected everyone on the staff with their good humor.

You raised your eyes as Hyunjin came up to you with his camera between scenes filming the making off.

"How do you like our godlike basketball skills?", he asked, and Han latched onto his shoulder.

You raised a thumb at the camera and said:

"You guys definitely play like professionals!"

"Why don't I believe you?", laughed Hyunjin, zooming in on Han, who posed with his legs wide for the camera:

"I'm the best player, though."

"Yeah because the rest of us are extremely bad!", Hyunjin shot back and then all you saw behind him was the basketball flying and slamming hard against Jeongin's face.

Hyunjin screamed out, who happened to have the camera right on it, and Chan was already running to the youngest, who was holding his face with both hands and wincing with pain.

Before you got past the stands, the director and the cameramen were already with him and handed him a cloth, which he pressed firmly against his nose.

But it was already too late. Blood ran down his mouth and chin and dripped onto his blue jacket.

"Who threw the ball?", asked Chan sharply, looking at stunned faces. Hyunjin had lowered the camera and Changbin slowly approached.

"That was me", Lee Know came forward, sounding concerned.

He pushed past the Director who was talking at Jeongin, but gradually the white cloth ran out.

"Sorry, Innie... Shit, I didn't mean to throw so hard."

Jeongin squinted his eyes and waved it off with one hand.

"It's okay... Never mind."

You took out more wipes from your bag and handed them to him so he could press them further against his nose.

"Stuff it up your nose until it stops!", said Chan, looking like a father tending to his small child who had fallen off the swing.

Gently, you grabbed him by the arm and said through the commotion around you:

"Come on, Innie! I'll help you clean this up."

Chan nodded curtly at you and when you saw the stressed expression on his face, you wanted to take all the heavy weight off his shoulders, that he carried around all the time.

You sat down together on one of the higher benches of the stands so that the others could continue working undisturbed. You sat down opposite him, both one leg to the left and one leg to the right of the bench.

He still had his head back and tissues stuck up his nose.

"Does it hurt a lot?", you asked cautiously, glancing down the stairs where one member of the team was already joining you.

He shook his head and his voice sounded nasal, due to the blockage in his nose:

"No. It's not that bad."

He was always like that. Just not a burden to anyone and always functioning at full speed.

The director's assistant had reached you by now and handed Jeongin more cloths and a cold pack.

"Should we call a doctor to take a look at the nosebleed?"

You were about to answer in the affirmative, but Jeongin beat you to it.

"No! There's no need for that. It's already stopped bleeding."

Pressing your lips together, you looked at him questioning, but he continued to refuse.

"Maybe the nose is broken", the assistant said, to which Jeongin again shook his head vehemently.

"Y/N can palpate me, but there's nothing broken. I can keep going!"

While the assistant tried to continue talking at him, you moved closer to Jeongin.

"May I?", you asked, and he nodded.

Then you gently ran your fingers over the bridge of his nose. As you did so, his face hovered so close to yours that you inevitably saw his gaze move to your lips and how he suddenly tensed up.

Blood still stained his chin and mouth and a few drops had also landed on his jacket.

Only because of the assistant who was present were you able to tear yourself away from his engaging eyes. Like a fox, he regarded you attentively and with so much intelligence in his expression that you trembled.

"The nose isn't broken. It all feels normal", you said quickly, pulling away before the assistant noticed that crackling energy between you.

By then, there was a call for him as well, and he finally gave up.

"I'll take care of Jeongin!", you assured him, and with that he finally gave in and disappeared.

"Thank you! Really", Jeongin said, clearly relaxing. He grabbed one of your hands and unobtrusively pulled you closer again by it.

"Let me clean your face!", you said, smiling softly and taking out a couple of makeup wipes from your bag that you always carried in case you needed it. He nodded and you began to wipe the blood from his skin with concentration and careful hand movements.

While doing so, you couldn't help but inhale his cologne. He smelled like a heady mix of fresh florals, woody lime and the first rain on a sunny day.

His charisma was more than attractive and when he was that close to you, you became restless. There was something unpredictable about him, behind the politeness, the funny weirdo and the loving nature.

It was the self-confidence that lay dormant in him that regularly blew your mind. Even though he was just a few months older than you.

Bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder, you tried not to hurt him.

"Y/N?", you heard his soft voice ask, and you felt his heartbeat quicken under your hand.

"Huh?", you hummed busy and that's when you heard Hyunjin standing next to you again, holding the camera on you.

"Since Lee Know tried to kill our Maknae. How are you I.N?"

You looked at the camera and threw away the bloody cloths.

Jeongin raised a thumb to the camera and said:

"It's all good. It's really not as bad as it looks. And Minho's throw was also too bad to really do any damage."

"Should I try it again? Maybe next time you faint", shouted Minho then, and you smirked as you felt Jeongin's knee pressed against yours.

Hyunjin laughed and Minho looked fierce but you both could see the concern in their eyes despite everything. They were family, after all and cared for each other no matter what.

Then Hyunjin was distracted by Felix who was trying to shoot baskets with Chan and went to join them. Jeongin took the scraps of cloth out of his nose and threw it all in the trash by the stairs.

"You should cool that so it doesn't swell any more", you said, already activating the cold pack by bending it.

"Does it look that bad?", he now asked again without the nasal tone.

You shook your head quickly. Once the blood was gone, the minimal swelling on the bridge of his nose didn't seem so bad either.

"No. But we don't know what it will look like tomorrow."

He nodded and closed his eyes as you held the cold pack to the bridge of his nose. A soft hiss escaped him as the cold eased the throbbing in his head, enjoying your gentle touch.

For a while, you just sat there together, enjoying each other's presence. Jeongin could have endured for hours the way your fingers stroked his face and dabbed his nose with the cold pack.

"Does it feel good?", you asked after a while, and that's when he opened his eyes again.

"You have no idea", he murmured, relaxed, and when your eyes met, you noticed the closeness between you.

His thighs were pressed tightly against yours from the outside and you could feel his breathing on your cheek as your face was only a hand's width away from his.

An embarrassed smile flitted across your lips and immediately his eyes were fixed on it. He could just look at you and your knees went weak.

You put your other hand to his cheek to hold his face tightly because you just wanted to touch him while you continued to cool his nose. Slowly he lifted his gaze and your eyes locked together. You got all excited as he licked his lower lip and all the sounds of the shoot faded into the background.

Before you could stop him, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on your mouth. It only lasted a few seconds, yet your heart jumped out of your chest and you stared wide-eyed at him before looking around to see if anyone had watched you.

He too seemed surprised himself and couldn't quite believe he had actually done that without thinking. Looking down at the crew, you breathed a little sigh of relief when you saw that everyone was busy taking videos of Changbin.

Chan and Felix were listening intently to the director and Seungmin's hair was being fixed.

Only Hyunjin looked in your direction and slowly lowered the camera.

He tried not to let notice, but gave you a warning look.

This was too much and too public.

It was just too dangerous and you knew it. It had just happened and you hoped nobody saw it.

"Sorry", he whispered, seeming a bit overwhelmed.

You had to swallow hard and nodded quickly without looking at him.

"You should take off that jacket. Maybe we can get the blood stains out by the sink", you said, hoping that if you just didn't address it, it never would have happened. Together you walked down the bleachers and asked a couple of women from the staff where the nearest sink was. They sent you straight to the hallway and there you found a sink on the wall behind the next corner.

Jeongin slipped out of his jacket and watched you try to wash out the dark stains with water. But it was quite hopeless. The blood had already sunk too deep into the fabric.

"I think that's it for the uniform", Jeongin said, taking the jacket from you to hang it over the edge of the sink.

Just in the white shirt and tie made him look like the main character in a K-drama. His hair fell into his forehead and he shoved his hands into his pants pockets as he looked at you uncertainly. All this time he'd been strangely silent and you couldn't look at him any longer without staring. He looked outrageously handsome with his sleeves rolled up under which the veins on his forearms stood out.

"I'm really sorry about earlier", he finally broke the silence, and when you did look him in the eye now, you realized he was worried about you.

"I didn't mean to attack you like that. You took such care of me and you look so beautiful, I just couldn't control myself and I..."

You had to interrupt him, not being able to stand the way he was torturing himself.

"Innie!"

He looked at you questioningly and stepped from one foot to the other.

"I didn't think it was bad."

"You didn't?", he asked uncertainly, and you immediately wanted to kiss him to exorcise all the self-doubt. He stepped closer until your hands were against his chest and he had to look down at you.

"No. I thought it was really nice, and if there hadn't been so many people there, I would have liked to kiss you too."

A relieved laugh escaped him and he took his hands out of his pockets to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

"So you want me to kiss you?", he asked softly and you had to smile at his uncertainty. He wanted to make sure you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

"I want you to do so much more than just kiss me“, you replied with an ambiguous undertone and immediately his cheeks turned rosy and he stroked his fingers up your neck to your chin, where he lifted it slightly and placed his lips gently but intensely on yours.

Slowly you opened your lips and returned the kiss. As if in slow motion, he pulled you to his chest and deepened the kiss. He tasted honey-sweet and touched you with so much passion that you melted right against his chest. With your eyes closed, you felt his tongue on your bottom lip before he took it between his teeth and gently pulled on it. Burying your hands in his hair, you pulled him closer so he could slide his tongue into your mouth and set off fireworks in your head.

The kiss lasted an eternity and you never wanted to stop your tongues dancing together.

His fingers stroked down your back and he kissed you so passionately that your body automatically curved into his. His hands went under your skirt, grabbed your ass and pulled you closer to him until your upper body was pressed tightly against his.

You slid your hands under his shirt and stroked his firm stomach, that's when he broke the kiss to gasp into your mouth:

"I'm already dying to take you right now. Don't tempt me, sweetheart."

"I want you... right now", you gasped, and the sizzle between you was about to explode.

"Everyone else is in the other room", he whispered in your ear and kissed your neck.

You knew that, but you also knew how wet you were by now, just at the thought of feeling him inside you.

You took his hand and slid it between your legs. With wide eyes he looked at you, but immediately stroked your covered cunt with two fingers, feeling how soaked your panties already were.

"God... You're so wet", he gasped and began to move his fingers lightly against your core. Your parted lips and your fingers digging into his chest in the process made him completely lose his mind.

He instantly got hard and you felt his cock against your lower abdomen.

"Do you like it when I touch you like that?", he asked, pushing your panties aside to rub your clit directly, eliciting a gasp from you.

"Yes. But I want all of you!“, you whispered, while stroking his bulge over his pants and grinding your hips against his fingers.

Because of the sounds of the shoot behind the wall right next to you, you realised that someone just had to come around the corner to catch you.

"Fuck it…“, he suddenly muttered then and took your hand tightly in his. As he pulled you down the long hallway, you glanced over your shoulder in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"We're leaving. You have no idea how many naughty fantasies I had about you..."

You giggled and together you ran to the exit, like little kids who had done something wrong and tried to get away with it. You felt transported back to your school days, where you secretly made out with your crush and it evoked the most exciting feeling.

In the garage, he led you to the big car.

"Do you have the key?", you asked in wonder, and when he just opened the door, you glared at him.

"We usually leave the car open. Someone always forgets something. I know it‘s irresponsible but practical.“

He opened the sliding door and let you climb in until he too came in and pulled the door shut behind you.

"This is still pretty public", he mused aloud, but you were already shoving him into the back seat, where he had been sitting between Hyunjin and Han while you had droven here, and climbing onto his lap.

Immediately he pulled you into a kiss again. Only this time he was more impetuous and you could now feel his boner clearly pressed against your cunt. Quickly you took his tie and literally ripped open his shirt to touch each of his abs one by one.

"Take off your panties! Now!", he demanded and he didn't have to tell you twice. Hastily you slipped out of your thong and at the same time Jeongin pulled down his pants and underpants.

"I want you to ride my cock. I need your pussy so bad, jagi!“

He was impatient and directly his hard length jumped out.

"Since when did you start becoming so naughty, maknae ?" you asked teasingly, climbing back onto his lap.

"Since I tasted you."

He ran both hands under your shirt and pulled it over your head. Your bra popped out and immediately he kneaded your breasts and spread kisses on them.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a grin as you positioned yourself above him and suddenly put his hand around your neck.

With the other, he pressed you down on his length and it felt like he was splitting you into two parts. With the tight grip around your neck, you felt him fill you completely and you couldn't help but moan out loud.

"Fuck... You're gonna crush me", he growled, continuing to guide your hips until he was completely engulfed in you. You were breathing heavily as you tried to adjust to his size and he unclasped your bra and tossed it somewhere to the front of the car.

"Move!", he said and you began to roll your hips against his. His head dropped to his neck and he moaned loudly as you took him as deep as you could. Your fingernails dug into his chest as you were able to use his length the way you wanted and after a few seconds you rode him with faster and faster movements.

He held you by the hips and every gasp and moan you could elicit from him spurred you on even more. While he helped you rock back and forth on his cock, your clit was swollen and aching, begging for more. It didn't take long for your climax to grab you and you came on his dick while moaning his name. But you did not stop. You wanted to satisfy him and you felt him already twitching inside you as you tightened around him.

"God. I'm gonna cum soon, if you continue to take my cock so fucking good", he moaned and kissed your neck and even bit into it lightly, making you gasp his name.

"Come inside me! Fill me up, Innie! Please!"

Your words brought him over the edge and you felt him come and empty deep inside you with a choked gasp. You slowed down and sunk down on his cock.

"Should we stop?", you asked, breathing heavily, while he buried his face in the crook of your neck. In reply buckled his hips into you and began to push you up and down by your hips on his still hard dick.

Your clit was ridiculously sensitive from the first orgasm and you were not sure if you could handle a second one right now.

"Come around my cock again, sweetheart! Then I'm going to fuck you, like you deserve it."

His words turned you on again and you started bouncing on his throbbing cock again. You rolled your hips against his and you could tell Jeongin was holding back from bucking up into you, giving into his greedy desires.

"Shit, you're still so tight", he moaned, staring up at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on not cumming again. You knew that anyone could hear you, even through the doors of the bus, but you were just too drunk on his dick that you could care right now.

Your hands were tightly pressed to his chest, while you worked yourself to your next orgasm, which was already making your whole body tingle.

He didn't meet your gaze, instead, he watched the way his cock disappeared into your stretched hole, admiring the way your juices looked on his member.

"I love hearing you moan like this, angel", he said and guided your hips as you began to lose control due to the high that gripped you for the second time, flooding your entire body with heat. He wasted no time and while you were still working out your orgasm, he started thrusting into your cunt.

"You feel even better than the hyungs had described."

You probably would have blushed at the fact that the boys were talking about you like that, but the youngest of them was penetrating your sore pussy too much for that.

"Innie, oh god... please", you moaned and his gaze finally met yours.

"You like that? Being fucked like this?"

You might've been on top, but you were completely at his mercy by now. You were under his spell since the day you met him, hypnotized by him and his charming smile. He was tantalising you with his dark obsidian eyes. You lived for the lust-driven look in his face and his sweet groans. You bent down and cupped his face, hungrily kissing him. You kissed frantic and heated, desperate to taste each other. He licked his lips as he watched your breasts bounce with every thrust of his hips.

The filthy squelching sounds of him fucking his cum back into you filled the car and he removed his hands from your hips to reach up to cup your breasts, taking one in each hand, squeezing them.

You completely lost the sense of time, but couldn't stop urging each other to the next high. At any moment the shooting could be over and they could come back to the car.

His cock prodded against your cervix. You wondered who taught the boys how to fuck like this. Each of them fucked you in their own way and all of them were gods in this area.

Especially now you were totally addicted to the way Jeongin fucked you.

But finally you were overwhelmed by an orgasm that made you tremble. Your insides seemed to boil and as you tightened around his dick, he also came with a painful grip on your breasts.

Overwhelmed, you worked your highs out for as long as you could before you sank against his chest, breathing heavily. He ran his hand through your hair and pressed a sweet kiss to your temple.

"Was that good?"

You laughed lightly, with your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, still dazed stroking his neck.

"That was amazing, Innie."

He breathed a sigh of relief and stroked your back until your breathing calmed down.

"Move in with us!"

"What?"

You looked at him questioningly, and he knew he didn't have the right or the power to decide that, but he wanted to. You were worth it.

"We have a spare room in the new apartment. Right now it's just for storage, but you could have it."

"JYP wouldn't allow that."

"Why not? Before it takes you hours to get to work because your apartment is far away, it would be a solution. Besides, it would make our job extremely easier."

You couldn't say anything more in response, as the two of you heard muffled voices from outside, peering through the darkened windows.

"Shit! They're coming back!"

Quickly you jumped off his lap and slipped into your underpants and skirt. You felt the mixture of your juices and his cum making a mess in your panties, but you had no choice. You couldn't find your bra, and yet you saw that Chan and Seungmin had almost reached the bus.

Jeongin had already pulled his pants back up and was buttoning his shirt.

There was no more time, so you put on your shirt without a bra and just dropped into the seat next to Jeongin when the sliding door opened.

Chan poked his head in first and when he spotted you, he turned to the others.

"They're here! I told you they went ahead."

One by one, everyone got in and sat down. The driver wasn't here yet, so they looked at you curiously. Jeongin's hair was a mess and his cheeks were flushed. You probably didn't look any better.

"Where were you guys?", asked Lee Know, turning around in his seat to face you.

"Y/N was helping me with that bloody nose you gave me!", he said and Lee Know raised his hands defensively.

"Hey I already apologized!"

"We tried to save the jacket, but it was for nothing", you tried to explain your absence, but it was obvious that no one believed you.

Han had his hands clasped under his chin and was looking at you with a knowing grin, and it would only be seconds before he would say something dumb.

"You certainly had to comfort him", Changbin said then with a laugh, and Jeongin immediately stared at his shoes in embarrassment.

Then Seungmin suddenly bent down and pulled something out from under his seat. Startled, you stared at your red lace bra in his hand, which he now held up.

"Did any of you lose this? Because it's not mine."

"I usually wear black lace underwear", Chan replied, clearly enjoying the whole thing. Quickly, you jumped up and snatched your bra from Seungmin's hands.

Just in time, as the driver boarded and announced the start.

With your head burning, you stuffed the bra into your pocket, feeling the entertained looks of the others on Jeongin and you. On the way back, they continued to tease you for quite a while, but that's when Jeongin started:

"What if Y/N moves in with us?"

Immediately there was confused silence. So you explained your situation to them and that's when Chan said:

"We could ask. Maybe that's really a good idea."

"Would you really want to live with us?", Felix asked over the others and now they all looked at you attentively.

Briefly you looked down at your hands and then answered:

"I think so. Yes. It would make my job a lot easier if I didn't always have to go back and forth between the dorm, work, and my apartment. Plus, I think it could be fun."

"Don't get too excited. Living with 3Racha is like living with three wild animals", Hyunjin said, making you smile and took a punch in the side from Changbin.

Back at JYP Entertainment, you were up to your neck in work, but the idea of living with Stray Kids solidified in your thoughts and you kind of liked the idea.

->Part 12

————————————————————��—-

© Yuna542 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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#stray kids #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #changbin #fanfic #skz fluff #stray kids smut #bang chan #skz jeongin #jeongin #skz #skz i.n #i.n scenarios #i.n x y/n #i.n fluff #ot8 #skz ot8 #ot8 x reader #stray kids ot8 #ot8 x you #hyunjin x reader #skz lee know #felix skz #skz felix #skz fanfic #skz x y/n #skz bang chan #skz x reader

[soundspeachytome]

dusty and fraulein (shohei ohtani au)

summary: your asshole cat falls in love with your new next-door neighbor and takes shelter in his front porch while displacing his poor dog, dusty, and a whole lot of chaos in between ensues.

tropes: enemies to lovers, next door neighbor dynamics, dog parent x cat parent, fake dating, small town romance, pure, pure fluff and romance only.

word count: 11.2k

this is far from my original writing style but i hope you have fun reading as much as i had writing this! (if there are any inconsistencies, sorry in advance!)

other notes: i had patterned the two characters loosely after lorelai and luke and stars hollow as the town. *swoon!*

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

=================================

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You squint through the harsh back light of your phone and see the time: 8:47 AM. It is barely brunch and you hear loud music and conversation from outside your bedroom window. You pull the covers over your head and try to go back to sleep but the sound of a hammer being pounded on wood disrupts your journey back to dreamland. 

It also doesn’t help that your head also feels like someone is drilling it into concrete. For a split second, you wonder why you even let that much alcohol enter your system on a Friday night, and why no one stopped you when you were such a lightweight. You try to remember the events from the night before and then it hits you: you caught your boyfriend–now ex!--sexting with an intern at his office through the messages on his phone. You were not the type to scour through your boyfriends’ phones but it was supposed to be dinner date night with pasta and Sauvignon Blanc when Jack’s phone lit up from the kitchen counter. You were busy preparing cutlery when the phone dinged again. You thought it was important from work and since you had been very open and comfortable with each after a year of dating, taking a peek would not hurt. 

Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw. 

Jack, despite being a successful finance analyst, the smart, bookish type, the one who can compute numbers in his head in about 5 seconds or less, apparently was not smart enough to keep his notifications hidden or at least try and cover them up like a serial cheater would. Not that you  wanted him hiding anything from you, but at that moment, seeing the thirst traps and the disgusting follow-up sexts from his notifications bar were enough for you to hurl his precious PS5 from the fifth floor of his apartment building and leave the crime scene with the wine and pasta in tow. 

You don’t know what happened after because you left while he was still in the shower, his apartment thrashed, with a note which you left that says, “For the record, I faked all my orgasms during our sexy time. Veronica ❤️ seems to love your *mini* performance though! PS. If you’re looking for your PS5, try looking down from the balcony, asshole.”

Love is a lie, you scoffed. You let the remnants of last night’s hurt consume you for a little bit more and cry under the covers. You cried until your eyes tired, until the weight of your head felt heavier than a bowling ball. You thought about staying in bed for a few more minutes when a boisterous laughter interrupted your thoughts. The laugh was followed by incomprehensible sentences. The voice came from a man probably in his late twenties, deep, jovial and friendly. You couldn’t make out the words from this distance but he sounded like he was giving instructions, volume fading in and out every now and then. Then more manly laughter. You didn’t know why but this person had a distinct laugh that you found very pleasant. You wonder somberly if you could laugh like that again. 

You jolted upright and went for the door. You will definitely be happy again soon but first, coffee. 

The best hangover fix is a steaming cup of coffee with a plate of bacon and pancakes. You poured yourself a hot mug of coffee and suddenly felt unstoppable, like you’re actually happy, at least temporarily. The pounding in your head has subsided but the drilling from nextdoor hasn’t. You must have new neighbors, the way you’re seeing movers coming in and out of the moving truck parked outside. You tried to catch a glimpse of this neighbor causing all the ruckus but were unsuccessful as the trees lined beside your porch were covering your line of vision. From behind you, you felt your cat, Fraulein, bump her head on your ankles, purring audibly.

“Looks like the new neighbors woke you up too, huh?” She yawned and continued looking up at you. 

Fraulein, a female American shorthair of three years, stood around nine pounds with her stocky legs and long, proportioned tail. Her fur was a thick orange coat with faint white stripes covering most of her body. She was nameless when you picked her up from the animal shelter. She was barely five months old at that time and despite being smaller than the other cats, she had snuggled up to you when you reached for a pet. When you scratched her head and heard her purr loudly, you knew right then and there that she was the one for you. She was the friendliest, clingiest and most loveable thing you have in your life, and despite her “orange cat personality” as most people had dubbed, you wouldn’t replace her with anything in the world, not even for your hound dog-looking ex, Jack. 

She did a big stretch as you picked her up while you stood idly by the window. As you stared outside, Fraulein’s purring sending you in a trance, you suddenly notice a pair of eyes looking up at you from the front lawn. Those eyes should not be there, and more importantly, the pair of eyes belonged to a dog standing just mere inches from your flowering shrubs, tail wagging. If this dog takes another step, they could ruin the gardenias you’ve been trying to grow. 

You step outside and try to shoo the dog away when it suddenly jumps and barks. 

“Hey! Get away from my garden!” You try to stay calm as the dog continues to bark and come playfully near the shrubs. Your heart sinks when his paw accidentally steps on the stems of your peonies. You’ve been meaning to pluck them this week so you can replace the wilted ones from your vase. 

“Oh my god… Please go away! Shoo!” You desperately waved the dog away but it continued to jump excitedly and roll around, probably thinking you were out there to play. Fraulein, who was still in your arms the entire time, started getting restless and was hissing at the dog’s direction, her untucked claws boring into your skin. That’s when you saw a man, probably over six feet tall, rushing towards the dog. He had thick black hair and the widest shoulders you’ve ever seen. 

“Oh my god, Dusty! What are you doing here…” He put a leash on the dog, whose name was probably Dusty, as you have heard, and carried him with one arm. 

“I’m so so sorry! I was inside the house and I didn’t realize Dusty escaped from his leash.” His big brown eyes complemented well against his slightly tanned skin. With your obvious height difference, you had to look up at him from a distance without hurting your neck. 

“He almost ruined my flowers,” You started to say, eyes still locked in his. If you hadn’t forced yourself to look towards your garden, you would have been sucked into his creamy brown orbs. 

You assessed the garden from the mini scuffle. There was a bit of overturned soil from some of the shrubs, especially from the peonies getting the most damage. The stems have been slightly bent, almost breaking from where it stood. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m sosososorry! I didn’t mean to–I mean, Dusty’s still young, he’s very playful and…” 

“I was planning on cutting them this week, anyway. Your dog has to stay away from my garden, though.” I pointed at the lopsided peonies, almost looking like they have their hands up in the air, waving sideways.

He looked so apologetic that he almost looked like it was his fault. He tightened his grip on his dog, Dusty, who looked so small and well-behaved being cradled by a big-bodied man. Meanwhile, Fraulein has not relaxed one bit after that quick garden mess and had her claws out, clinging to my threadbare sweater.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll keep a tight leash on her. I’m Shohei Ohtani, by the way. We just moved next door, so I guess we’re neighbors now. I’d offer my hand right now, but I’m afraid Dusty would jump out of my grip. ”

Now that you are able to look at his face carefully, you realize that he was fairly handsome. Correctly proportioned face, dreamy brown eyes, and a smile that invited first love butterflies kind of vibe. He was also tall and definitely bulky over that black long-sleeved sweater that was folded up to his elbows. You could tell he dedicates a good amount of time to his body.

“So that explains all this noise so early in the morning.” You say with an almost sarcastic tone of voice. You didn’t mean it and you were willing to forgive them for the morning ruckus but the garden mishap and the mini-heart attack you had for your plants had somehow added to the list of how-to-piss-your-neighbor-on-the-first-day. And you’re really bad at moving past your first impressions of other people. 

“Are all cat people always this cranky in the morning?” He commented cheekily, displaying a playful expression in his eyes. This man named Shohei is trying to get to you and it’s definitely working. For a first conversation, it surely is getting on your nerves to be read so openly, and in your own premises, at that. 

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just an observation. Cat people seemed to be more emotionally charged than dog people.” He said matter-of-factly and continued to smile. He’s handsome but he’s also starting to be annoying as hell. What does he mean by that? Does he want to show off that dog people are better than cat people? 

“Well. If we’re going to talk about stereotypes here then I must say dog people are careless people-pleasers who hogs the attention and only cares about being liked and do not give a rat’s ass on taking up other people’s space and boundaries. I’d also offer to shake my hand but I’m afraid my cat right here might scratch your dog’s face for ruining our morning.” You stared hard at him and slowly backed away, returning to your porch steps.

“Nice to meet you, too, I guess! I would suggest chamomile tea and tone down on coffee!” He waved cheerfully, as he exited the lawn and walked towards his home. You turned your heel and slammed the door shut loud enough for him to hear. Fraulein jumped out of your grip and mewed almost as angrily. She darted toward the kitchen and went out of sight. 

“What a weirdo… If Fraulein doesn’t like him then I don’t have to like him, too.” You muttered to yourself and moved to the bathroom to take a shower. 

You spent your afternoon in the garden, watering and cutting the flowers in full bloom. You wore your oldest t-shirts with a print that says “I Wet My Plants” under your pink square overalls and a sun hat to protect you from the sun. You were listening to your beloved Birdy mix on your headphones as you tended the prettiest flowers in your garden, muting the noise of the world.

I know I was stupid to let what we had go to waste

Why does everything I love always get taken away?

Ghost in the wind calling you to take me home

Ghost in the wind crying, where do I belong?

Can anyone hear me now?

Can anyone hear me now?

“Can you hear me, Y/N?”

“Agh!”

You almost jumped out of your skin when a hand touched you lightly in the arm. It was Patrick Sandoval, your high school best friend, and sometimes main supplier of Fraulein’s flea medicine. You forgot that he was visiting today.

“Whoa! Extra jumpy today?” he smiled his Colgate-white smile and cocked his head to the side. “Coffee overload, again?”

Suddenly you remembered what your new neighbor had said during your first encounter this morning. Naturally cranky… Tone down on the coffee… He had no idea to be assuming things like that, not when you had just literally met.

“Jack cheated on me and I was hungover, okay?” You grit your teeth through the mention of your ex. Like the stench of his name made the bile climb up your throat. “I decimated his PS5 into tiny cracked pieces.”

“Oh, shit, man.. I’m proud of you.” He put you in a half-embrace and patted your head. “Do you need me to break his legs for you?”

You giggled, arm still locked around his waist. “No, but I took one of his expensive wines so that evens that out for me, I think. I don’t care.”

Patrick looks at you and wonders if he arrived too late today. He notices the dark bags under your eyes and your puffy face, probably a result of crying all night. He wondered if you had been crying all morning, too. He couldn’t help but lean in and give you a full, bear hug.

“Just let me know if you need us to file a restraining order, babygirl.” You snorted and buried your face under his embrace, thankful for the assurance. Patrick has always been your rock since high school. When your first boyfriend ditched you in prom, Patrick was there to rescue you when he wasn’t initially supposed to go; you ended the night with stomachs full of pizza, sparkling soda and belly laughter.

You and Patrick had been for each other’s rarest moments throughout adulthood: gushing about your first times, your first heartbreaks, getting into college, graduation… you even wondered if both of you are just teetering from the sidelines, waiting for each other to do the first move. You always brush the thought away because to do that means risking your friendship with him. You don’t want to lose him, not even as a friend.

“By the way, I’m just here to drop these medicines for dear ol’ Frau that you asked.” He lifted a paper bag with a cute animal picture and his pet shop name printed across it. Paw and Order.

 “Thanks, Patrick. I could’ve picked them up if you called.” Patrick has been the sole pet doctor in town which contributed solely to his success. Seeing how much people nowadays prefer taking pets instead of bearing children, he took the opportunity to put up his own pet shop and clinic; you and Fraulein have been number one customers ever since.

“It’s my pleasure, milady.” He did an elegant bow, to which I returned a curtsy, and giggled. “I’m also here to let you know that I’ll be on a business trip for two weeks. So this will be sort of my goodbye.”

“What kind of business trip takes two weeks long?” You don’t really want him to leave, especially with the holidays approaching, you had planned to spend it all with him.

“The kind where your father wants you to venture to a new business spot and spend the holidays with him and his new family.” He shrugged and looked at you, hoping you’d stop him from the impending family mess he’s about to go to, but you only scrunched your nose.

“That sucks, man. You’ll miss all the fruitcakes.” 

“I know, dude.” He pouted. “How are Frau's fleas, by the way? Did the medicine work last time?” 

“Sure did, she’s better now. Speaking of which, where is that old hag?” You haven’t seen her since early morning’s commotion. The last time you saw her she was napping by the window of your bedroom.

“Just call me if you notice anything weird. The medicines should be enough while I’m gone.” 

“Leaving already?”

“First thing in the morning, bub.” He said. “I’ll miss you.”

“Frau and I will miss you, too!” And the two of you embraced in another warm hug. When you both pulled back, he helped you pick up the basket of freshly bloomed flowers you had collected for the day and went back inside the house. You had given him the extra jar of lemon iced tea you’ve been saving for a particularly warm day like this. 

~~~

It’s been a whole day that you haven’t seen Fraulein. She usually wanders off hours in a day but she always returns by dinner time. You were starting to worry as the sky slowly turned pitch black. The lampposts turn on, illuminating the streets. You turn the porch lights on, too, and leave her bowl of food and water by the doorstep, in case she decides to come home late into the night. 

~~~~

You wake up to a high-pitched yowling outside. You’re not exactly sure where but you know that sound from anywhere. You bolted down the stairs with your sleeping robe undone and ran towards the lawn. You can’t see anything until you hear it again.

“Nyreooow!”

Soon, a dog howls and you run towards Shohei Ohtani’s house.

You see Fraulein perched on top of Shohei’s porch, her entire back arched defensively, ears twitching backwards. She was hissing at Dusty, who was whimpering loudly below the porch steps and looking terrified. In your panic, you run to the lawn to pick Fraulein up.

“Fraulein! What are you doing here?” 

Dusty continued to bark loudly, trying to come near the door where Fraulein stood. She hissed menacingly at him.

At that exact moment, Shohei Ohtani emerged from the front door, yawning and trying to get sleep out of his eyes. 

“Whazhapeninhere?” He yawned, looking clearly disoriented from suddenly waking up.

“Your dog is trying to attack my cat!” I yelled, trying to go near Fraulein but stepped back as Dusty blocked your way. 

Shohei popped awake as soon as he heard Fraulein hiss at Dusty once more; Fraulein arched her back more and raised her claws in defense.

“Whoa, hey!” Shohei ran up to Dusty and cradled him in his arms like a baby. Poor dog was shaking and whimpering.

“Are you sure it’s not your cat trying to attack my baby?” He raised his voice. He was standing a few feet away from you and looked you up and down, noticing your loose sleeping robe and looking away. 

“Poor baby getting scared by a cat,” He cooed silently, helping Dusty relax.

You walked up the porch when Fraulein hissed and scratched your arms when you picked her up. She wriggled from your grasp but conceded defeat when you scruffed her by the neck, immobilizing her. 

“I don’t know what’s happening here, but please stay away from my cat.” You looked at both Shohei and Dusty sternly. He noticed the scratches on your hands.

“You’re bleeding.” He started.

You looked down on your hands and saw visible red scratch marks. They started from the middle of your arm all the way to the back of your hand.

“I’m fine.” You huffed, trying to walk away as fast as possible. You don’t know what time it was, but it could easily be past midnight. 

“No, wait. Please, I have antiseptic soap inside…” He rushed towards the house, when he looked back and saw you frozen on the steps, he beckoned you and disappeared inside. “Come on.”

You stood there for a moment and contemplated if you should follow Shohei inside. You barely know the guy and every encounter you’ve had with him always ended in a screaming match or a passive-aggressive exchange. He might even be an ax murderer for all you know. A very handsome one, at that. 

“Frau, if something happens to me, please know that I love you.” You held her near your face. “Third drawer by the sink is where I kept all your catnip”. You whispered to her ear and walked towards Shohei Ohtani’s home.

~~~

Shohei Ohtani’s home was, first of all, very clean. It did not reek of anything a dog owner normally would smell like. It had the occasional puppy toys around the living room, but much to your surprise, it was spotless. It also smelled like sweet rose and laundry detergent. You also discovered that just like you, he lives alone. 

Shohei had put Dusty inside a retractable gate to keep him safe from Fraulein as you put her down on the floor. He busied himself looking for his first aid kit. You don’t notice any other pictures on display except him and Dusty and one with his complete family on the refrigerator door. 

His tall frame reappears and he pulls you towards the kitchen sink. You soak your arms under the water and he hands you the antiseptic soap.

“Thanks,” You mumbled. He never left your side and waited until you finished rinsing off, then took your arm and put cream on the scratch marks. He was standing unbelievably close, you could almost see his long eyelashes as he had his head down, concentrating on his self-appointed task. 

He also had his other hand holding you tight, as if to make sure you won’t run off suddenly. 

“I have these at home, you know.” You trained your eyes on his fingers dabbing cream. Don’t look at his arm veins, Y/N. Don’t look at them. Don’t look. Don’t.

“Oh, gee. Why didn’t I think of that?” He mused to which you rolled your eyes. Once again, the magic had worn off. 

“Do you really have to sound sarcastic all the time?”

“C’mon, lighten up.  Besides, it happened on my property so I feel partially responsible–even if it was your cat’s fault.” He shrugged.

You coughed at his accusation. “Fraulein does not instigate fights. She is well-mannered and prim all the time, thank you very much.” You pulled your cream-covered arm away from him. Just then, you notice Fraulein bumping her head on Shohei’s legs, mewling softly.

“How would you then explain the fact where your cat steals Dusty’s bed from the front porch?” He said, crossing his arm, Fraulein on the other hand, was still headbutting Shohei on the legs.

“Oh, she did not.” You retorted. Why would she steal someone’s fray-looking bed when she has her beautiful beige 2-condo tree tower with a capsule nest and dangling balls and a charming basket-weave style oval bed at home? It didn’t make sense. “She only sleeps in the beds I bought her.”

Shohei gives you a funny look and fishes his phone from his pocket. “Well, you’re in for quite a shock, I guess.”

He shoves the phone to you after tinkering with it for a while. “That’s your cat at 30:56 right?”

You look closely, a bit disoriented at what he was trying to show you. CCTV recorded footage of his porch outside where his dog, Dusty, was sitting in his dog bed, playing with his puppy chew ball, when suddenly, you saw Fraulein enter the frame from the left. 

“It doesn’t show anything.” You impatiently looked on, disbelief and denial dripping from you. 

“Oh just you wait.” 

Fraulein was moving slowly, watching Dusty and his toy. A few minutes pass by, the video captures Shohei exiting the front door and Dusty follows him playfully, at which, the dog bed was obviously vacated, and Fraulein took the opportunity to lay on it. 

Shohei cops the phone away and crosses his arms across his chest. “The court finds the defendant guilty.”

It took you a moment but gasped dramatically at the realization. “Was she here the entire day yesterday? Napping on your dog’s bed?” You looked at Fraulein with sheer disapproval. “Fraulein von Hammersmark, that is not how female felines behave.”

Shohei stifled a laugh. He was leaning over his stomach and ears red. “Relax. I don’t mind at all. I think Dusty does, though.” He picks up Fraulein calmly and gives her  scratches on her head. Fraulein purrs loudly. 

“She has been napping here all day since morning and seems to enjoy watching her new neighbor work out in the front lawn.” 

You grimaced, making sure you showed him your disgust. “Ew, weird flex but okay.”

Dusty whimpers as he looks at the scene from outside his gate. You walk over and give him a light pat on the head. “Dusty, blink once if you need help.” 

“Oh, please.” He giggles. “I’m not the weird one for naming my cat Fraulein von Hammersomething.” Shohei returns Fraulein to you, your arms touching, his head closer to yours momentarily. 

“Y/N. I wonder what the weather is on your side. You want to wear something warmer than that?” He pointed at your loose sleeping gown, your legs showing a little bit of your thigh. A little more movement and the knots would dangerously slip out of your waist and reveal your lingerie. 

“Pervert.” You instinctively covered your chest and ran back home, arms carrying Fraulein and the weight of shame for being almost half-naked inside a strange man’s house. 

~~~~

The next few days after that incident were spent with writing articles for an obscure lifestyle website and your part-time work at the bookstore in town, Novel Nook. You ride a 30 minute bus ride to the town square everyday for work and wait 15 minutes in line to grab a cup of coffee from the coffee shop beside it. It doesn’t feel like work at all because you are always surrounded by the books that you love. It took you a long time to realize that working 9-5 in an office cubicle with ugly fluorescent lighting was deteriorating your mental headspace and when your mom passed, you jumped the gun and submitted your intent to resign.

You removed all the baggage you kept from the city and only brought the ones that mattered to you: your cat, your big books, some pretty clothes you never wore in the city but are wearing freely and confidently now, and your memories of your mom. You flew seven thousand miles back home to the place you were meant to be all this time, and you couldn’t be happier and more content. 

You were walking sluggishly back home from a tiring day at work at Novel Nook where two teenagers fought for the last copy of The Hurricane Wars and it took all your energy to de-escalate before they could start pulling each other’s hair. You can’t wait to kick your boots back, hug Fraulein and maybe continue reading a book. 

Your house is on the opposite side of the bus stop so you always (almost begrudgingly) have to pass by Shohei’s house every time. Sometimes it would be quiet with Dusty playing alone on the porch, or Shohei having a barbecue and would always cheerfully waving at you while you just give him a brief nod. Recently, you’ve grown accustomed to seeing Fraulein hanging out in his place more often than you have imagined. She’s like a teenage girl rebelling against her overbearing mother, hanging out with the wrong crowd. After that incident with Dusty, she has claimed dominance on his bed, Shohei had no choice but to buy a new one for his poor dog, while Fraulein smugly walks around in her new territory. 

You had developed some sort of weird neighbor-dynamic with Shohei after that. On days Fraulein had to take her medicine shots that Patrick had given you, you’d walk towards his house and pick her up like some sort of pet daycare. Shohei likes to call it “daddy daycare” as if you’re two divorced parents and he is the cool dad that all the kids love hanging with while you’re the uptight, overbearing mother with full custody and all, that the kids hate. 

“Fraulein, your mom’s here.” Shohei said one day, looking up from his laptop which was perched on the table he had set up on his porch, sitting adjacent to Fraulein. Dusty was chewing on his toy, as usual, and perked up a welcome upon seeing you. 

Fraulein stands and stretches her back and sits back again resting on Shohei’s foot, to which Shohei smirks almost smugly. “She loves her dad more, it seems.”

You roll your eyes and pick up Fraulein. “Stop calling yourself her dad before I burn your house down.”

“Ooh, an arsonist for a neighbor. That’s so sexy, Y/N.” He looked you up and down and wiggled his eyebrows. “You’re too cute to go to jail, though. How about going out with me instead?”

“Piss off. C’mon, Fraulein, time for medicine.” You turned and walked back to your home, trying to keep a straight face at the being called cute with Shohei. You’re too cute. You made the mistake of looking back as you turned to your corner and saw Shohei grinning at you.

This day would be no different as you passed by Shohei’s house today and saw Fraulein napping at the exact same place on his porch. He was working out doing ab crunches on the ground. You decided today, you wouldn’t dare to go on another episode of sarcasm battle with Shohei and go straight home. He was wearing workout clothes of course, with his gym shorts and sleeveless shirt, for all the temptations in the world, this one, you had proudly resisted and warded off like the devil. 

You found Dusty on your lawn, sitting by the patch of grass far from your flowers, thankfully, and staring far ahead into the direction of your home. You patted him and tried to get his attention. Ever since being displaced by Fraulein, he had been giving you frequent visits and play in your yard and you’d give him treats from your secret stash.

“Hey, bud. Were you waiting for me?” He ignored you and continued to look on.

By the door, you can see a tall black figure standing, unmoving. It was a man in a black suit with hands in his pockets. When he turns around, you see a familiar face.  

“No,” You whispered. Jack smiles at you and waves, as if nothing had happened almost a month ago. As if he was just returning from a business trip. Like cheating on you was nothing.

You started panicking and heaving heavily. Dusty senses your fear and barks at Jack when he slowly walks over to you. 

Dusty continued to growl and bark at Jack while you tried to move backward, feet heavy like lead. 

“Stop, don’t come near me, Jack.” you struggled.

“Y/N, I’m here to apologize, for whatever happened, for whatever it made you feel.” He was still slowly walking towards you, eyeing Dusty carefully.

“We have nothing to talk about anymore, Jack. It’s over, in case you forgot.”

“I said come here, you bitch.” He growled. 

At this point, you only realized you were shaking terribly when a hand wrapped on your shoulder, calming you down.

“Are you okay?” It was Shohei’s voice and you have never felt so relieved to hear his voice. You weakly put your arm around his waist and leaned on him. You were still shaking badly, from the exhaustion, or the fear, you couldn’t tell. 

“Is everything okay?” Shohei acknowledges Jack who stopped at around five feet from where you were. 

“We were just discussing something… private.” Jack shifts his eyes between you and Shohei, who was sizing him up and down. Between Shohei, who stood over six feet tall, bulky, and ripped, and Jack, just around five foot nine, body somewhat lean and lanky, Jack didn’t stand a chance. 

Realizing this, you found more comfort and confidence in your plan. You looked up to see Shohei still trying to converse with Jack while keeping a firm arm around you. 

“Shohei.” He looked at you cautiously and tightened his grip on your shoulder. 

Please promise me that you won’t get mad at what I’m about to do.

“What is it, Y/N? Who is this guy?” he said.

“He’s my ex who I want nothing to do with.” He straightened his back but you pulled him by the neck so you could whisper in his ear.

“I’m so sorry, Shohei.” 

“I’m not sure I understand–” He tilted his head in confusion. Jack starts moving forward again, looking almost pissed by just looking at you and Shohei. 

With Shohei still leaning forward, you desperately grabbed his cheeks and pecked him square on the lips. 

Shock induces both Shohei’s and Jack’s faces when you pull back, eyes focused on Jack and hoping to God he’d get the message. Wild red alarms blared and rang loudly in your head, you just kissed Shohei, your hot and annoying neighbor! You just kissed him! You ignored this and focused on the problem at hand. 

“He’s my boyfriend, Jack. Please leave now–” 

Shohei recovers from his shock and kisses you back in bigger, wider and longer strokes of his tongue. The tremors in your body shook harder and you felt your limbs melt into a puddle of water. Shohei’s big warm hands were there to catch you as your knees unbuckled. 

You kissed back and forgot everything that was happening in the background. Dusty barking, Jack’s shell-shocked face, the vehicles passing by the street witnessing your spectacle. You ignored all of this and focused on the way Shohei holds on to your body from your neck, to your back until it rests to the back of your waist, gripping tight, his firm and taut body pressing hard onto you, and his lips sliding over yours so smoothly, stimulating all the senses in your tongue and mouth. 

You don’t know how many seconds passed when you stayed inside that bubble but when you both pulled back for air, Jack was no longer there and Dusty had stopped barking. Instead, he just sat quietly on the ground, waiting for you to finish. 

You stared at Shohei and you stared back at him. Your hand was still on his neck, half-gripping the nape. You slowly let go and pull away. It’s always after the sin that you feel the shame and guilt. 

He doesn’t let go and instead takes you by the shoulder. “Come inside first and we’ll talk.”

You nod wordlessly and follow his lead. You couldn’t walk properly anyway, so you didn’t want to fight back. Your knees felt like jelly and your brain full of fog. That was hot, you thought, but also very wrong.

You sat at Shohei’s dining table chugging a glass of water. By the time you finished, he sat there in front of you and continued looking at you intensely.

In your post-kiss and post-Jack clarity, you’re now too embarrassed to admit the way you handled that situation. But Shohei, being Shohei, seemed unfazed. For the most part, he found it amusing to be part of your ex-boyfriend escape plan, of all the people. 

“A man never listens to a no,” You were too focused on the rim of the glass. You want to look anywhere but Shohei’s mouth. “And I was desperate for him to get away… so I did.. That.”

“Y/N, you were trembling out there. What exactly has he done to you?” He removed the glass from your grip and made you focus on him.

“He… I… He’s an asshole when he gets angry. And I was just scared I wouldn't be able to refuse him. I don’t want him anymore.”

“For someone as arrogant and snappish as you, that’s pretty hard to believe.” You rolled your eyes at him and smirked, lips looking luscious and fuller than the last time. 

“Look, I was probably having a panic attack back there, and I’m okay now, see?” You spread your arms widely, faking a smile at him. You’d like this conversation to end so you could run back to your house and ram your head to the wall. The more you stay in Shohei’s presence, the more embarrassed you feel about wanting and enjoying that kiss. You did. You do. And you want more. 

“I wanted an easy way out, you happened to be there and I grabbed the moment.” You rambled on. “And that kiss, it was just a one-time thing.”

“A one-time thing?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, it was a mistake. We don’t even like each other to kiss, so we can forget about it.”

“Is that right?” His lips curled into a smirk.

“Yes, tomorrow, we act like it never happened, okay?” You stood up and started collecting yourself. You hang by the door and look back, Shohei had his arms crossed against his chest, staring at you. 

“I don’t know, Y/N. That seems pretty unforgettable to me.”

~~~~~

The following morning, you woke up early to visit the farmer's market to replenish your cupboard. You wore black tights over your long beige dress and a gray cardigan. You put your hair down in loose waves today and replaced your contacts with your old prescription eyeglasses. 

Sprawled in front of you were tents and tables of farmers and sellers of freshly harvested fruits and vegetables to your heart’s content. Almost everyone you knew from town was there on a bright day like this. You said your hellos and some, who were avid customers of Novel Nook, asked about the new book releases. Since it is a fairly small town, it is inevitable to spot the ones that you direly wanted to avoid. For example, your ex-boyfriend Jack. 

He was standing one tent away and seemed to just idly window-shopping. You put your head down and try not to meet his gaze or look at his direction as you busy yourself looking through a good bunch of tomatoes. 

“Hey, Y/N.” You put your guard down and suddenly he is in front of you. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Trying to… buy some tomatoes?” He sneered, holding a tomato in his hand. “I don’t see your boyfriend around.”

“I…He’s… Can you please stop following me?” Cold sweat ran through your spine as he noticed you fumble, noticing your lie. 

“Lest you forget, I live here, too.” 

“Not in this side of town, you don’t.” You walked away with the bag of tomatoes you purchased. You moved quickly and avoided the throng of people that was starting to build up. 

“I just want us to talk… Y/N. You didn’t give me a chance to explain yesterday.” He continued to follow you, hands behind his back. He was obviously not there to buy tomatoes. 

“I don’t want to see you anymore. Leave me alone or I’ll call the police.” You looked at him sternly, hand gripping tightly on the basket you were holding. One false move and you just might smash his head with a whole pineapple. 

“No boyfriend to come save you now?” Jack chuckled. 

“There you are.” A familiar voice sprung up from behind, and a hand snaked around your waist. Shohei was suddenly beside you, holding on to his own basket of shopping bags.  “I was looking all over for you. Look, I got you blueberries for the cake you were planning to bake. ”

Shohei pinched your sides and smiled, nodding at you to play along with his little act. You forced a wide smile and said, “Wow, yes. You remembered, love? Thank you.”

You both turned to Jack who had a repulsed expression on his face. He coughed up and tried to get back his composure, but it was too late as both of you were already walking away. Shohei did not let go of you even until you turned a corner. You couldn’t care less about shopping anymore as you worried about running into Jack again.

“It looks like your ex is adamant on following you around.” He whispered to your ear, looking back and seeing Jack following far behind. “Care to give him a show, love?” 

You widen your eyes as you realized what was about to happen. 

He moves his head closer to yours and locks you in a wet kiss. He pushed deeper into the kiss when you unconsciously opened your mouth and let him in, mouth and tongue. The smell of clean detergent mixed with a little bit of vanilla filled your lungs, slapping you drunk. The second kiss was just as good as the first. 

Shohei suddenly pulls back from the kiss and offers his hand, and continues walking along like he hadn’t sucked the air out of your body.

For a few more tents, you and Shohei walked around hand in hand in the cold morning, picking fruits and vegetables like your typical neighborhood couple. Many onlookers saw the two of you eating from the free taste section, or arguing about the right vegetable size to buy, or just happily chatting with his hand not letting you go. 

“Shohei, I think Jack’s no longer around.” You motion for him to let go of your hand. 

“Aw, I thought we weren’t acting anymore, the way you were kissing me back there.” He smirks and lets go of your hand, missing his warmth already. 

“I’m only letting your hand go because you look like you’re going to topple over with how heavy this basket is.” He took your groceries from you and led the way. Since you’re practically almost living together, you have no choice but to walk with him awkwardly. 

“Thank you, Shohei.” You said quietly, walking feebly behind him.

“Didn’t catch that, love. What–” He wheels around and stops himself after realizing what he said, the tips of his ears turning red. You tried to keep a straight face but failed as both of you got caught in the moment. 

“Don’t get used to it.” You giggled and skipped your steps, leaving him to carry all the shopping bags he refused to let you carry. 

~~~

You were slowly settling down for the night with a movie on and a bowl of buttered popcorn when you heard a faint knock on the door.

Shohei was standing outside with his hands in the pockets of his checkered pajama pants. On his feet seems to be a brand new pet backpack carrier.

“Special delivery for one order of queen of meowtown, clingy and fuzzball Fraulein!” He beamed and pointed at the carrier. Fraulein was sitting relaxedly inside. 

“Don’t be shocked or anything but I accidentally bought two of these.” He pointed at the carrier. “I-I thought you’d like to have one for Fraulein. You don’t have to accept it i-if you…”

You smiled as he stammered on. “This looks really cute, I love it.”

Shohei smiled widely and helped push the carrier to your living room. “Then I'll give this as a gift!”

“It would be improper to receive a gift like this...”

“I refuse to accept no, Y/N. Take it please.”

You wanted to mull over it, let it marinate in your head and see what happens but ever since the first two kisses you shared with him, Shohei has been… extra friendly recently. And you were not that kind of “friend”. Whenever you pass his house, he’d go out of his way and talk to you before you walk away. Asking you questions if you’re on the way to the farmer's market, or if you’re on your way to work, if you want to join him for a run. He’s been attentive and you’re not sure what exactly this dynamic has evolved into. You feel uncomfortable about the attention you’re receiving but at the same time, you feel it in your chest and in your stomach and at the tips of your fingers. The fluttering. The tremors and the shakiness of breaths. It’s always there when he’s there. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll take it. But no more other gifts, okay!” You opened the carrier to let Fraulein out who walked idly away and climbed into her tree tower. 

Shohei smiled, nodding. He was about to leave the door when you pulled the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Wait. Um.”

He stepped back and looked inquiringly. You held up a photo from your phone to his face: it was you and Shohei on the day you went to the farmer’s market, holding hands while looking at freshly picked flowers. Shohei’s eyes squinted with laughter, looking intently at you while you were captured trying to explain something trivial. It was quite a beautiful shot sent to you by a cousin who was good at photography. More than that, if you were a stranger looking at a random photo like this, you’d think you were happily in love, and the thought made your chest flutter. 

“It’s quite a small town so it didn’t come as a shock to me when people started noticing whatever this was.” Shohei was still looking at the photo, a small smile drawn on his lips. 

“My mom’s side of the family is setting up a brunch this weekend. I usually bring Patrick to this but they wanted to meet you so…” You trailed.

You coughed and took the phone away. “It’s just a small group of people. And we can always say we broke up after three months or something.”

He cocked his head, looking confused. “Are we still doing the pretending thing with your family?”

“Yeah, I mean. We don’t like each other like that, right? We can just say it didn’t work out after three or four months. They usually move on pretty quickly from the guys I date.”

“Let me get this straight, Y/N.” He said slowly, the Adam’s apple on his throat went up and down as he swallowed. “You want to introduce me to your family as your fake boyfriend on your family brunch.”

You affirmed. “Yes.”

“And we’re going to cook up a reason to break up.”

“Yes.”

“And you said we don’t really like each other that much.”

“Not one bit”

“When we already had two kisses.”

“Yeah.”

“And went on a date in the farmer’s market walking around while holding hands. We kissed twice.”

“It  wasn’t a date.”

“It was to me.” He muttered.

“It was because you were helping me with Jack, remember?”

Shohei sighed exasperatedly, his mood darkened. “Pssh, yeah, whatever. Text me the details. G’night.” He scooted to leave and just like that you were left all alone in a confused daze in your living room. 

~~~

You spent too much time tossing and turning on your bed that night. The voices in your head and the whispers in your heart having an ongoing debate about what had happened a few hours before. 

Shohei was extremely happy, almost beaming like a kid when he brought you his gift but his expression changed after you had the conversation about your family brunch. Maybe you can sit it out this year and make up an excuse that both you and Shohei couldn’t attend? Seasonal allergies? Car getting mauled? Someone’s pet dying? Gods, no. You internally smack yourself for even being near to the thought of either your pets dying, not when they’re the closest thing you have as your best friend and family. You believe Shohei believes that, too. 

And why would Shohei become upset when you proposed the idea of a fake relationship with your family? You started this whole mess and it’s slowly getting out of hand, you want to nip it in the bud so it won’t have to hurt that much later on. It was just a one-time thing, an escape plan until Jack gets out of your hair, then both of you can live as freely as you had before. 

Besides, Shohei doesn’t like you to be that upset. Does he? He’s just a neighbor who likes joking around and annoying you whenever he gets the chance. He also just so happens to be a neighbor that Fraulein spends a lot of time on, he’s just someone to you until recently. 

You touch your fingers on your lips. That kiss shouldn’t mean anything to you because maybe Shohei doesn’t think about it that much either. He’s probably had a good number of girls that he’s kissed with that mouth. Given how good those kisses were, his expertise was undeniably top notch. You’ve never had anything like that before. A kiss that makes your insides tremble with need, almost fairytale like. Something close to what Mia Thermopolis had fantasized before her royal engagement with Nick Devereaux, a kiss that makes your leg pop. That’s what it was. A leg-popping, heart-fluttering, soul-defining kind of a  kiss that you’ll ask for more.

But as much as you want this all for yourself like the next person, you just had your heart broken by Jack. Jack who had promised you the moon and the stars, and a beautiful, dreamy, family with your pets. He had you swooning and dreaming about forever. It was all perfect until that fateful date and the cheating. It hurts to realize that no matter how much you love and do better for a person, they will always look for ways to look at other people. The idea of getting into a relationship right away after what happened with Jack is preposterous at this point. The trust and self-confidence Jack broke is something you want to piece together yourself first. Even if it meant being alone for a couple of months, or years. Who knows.  

You tossed to your side once again, feeling the sleep finally get to you. You dozed off soaking under the thoughts of kittens and kissing a tall man with contagious laughter. 

~~~~

Shohei was filling Fraulein’s food and water bowl dutifully as you had asked, waiting for you to finish preparing for the family brunch in the living room. He had finally succumbed and agreed to go with you as your fake boyfriend, despite his initial feelings towards the arrangement. He still doesn’t understand what was going through your head but he nevertheless had stopped bringing it up. He realized that the more he asked, the more you pushed back and retreated into the dark. He decided that he’d wait for you to soften up. You always do. 

And that’s how the two of you went back to being friendly with each other. 

He was sitting on your living room couch with Fraulein, brushing her fur with his fingers. Just another territory she had claimed: Shohei’s lap. 

“Shohei, help please!” You ran down the stairs, all dolled up. You put your hair down again, this time, you kept it naturally soft and straight. You also donned a yellow sundress that hugged your body, showing off your natural curves. The hems of the skirt go loose from the thighs down. 

“Can you help me zip this up, please?” You said so casually. When you turned around and showed Shohei your bare, unzipped back, he swallowed hard. 

He held your waist lightly and zipped your back slowly, as if taking his time to gape at the bareness of your skin exposed for him. When his breath touched your neck, you felt goosebumps pop. 

“Let’s go.” You smiled too widely for him, trying to act like the oxygen in your house has not depleted. 

Shohei was a hit with your cousins during brunch. Turns out that all of them share the same interests in baseball and baseball teams. They were passionately chatting on one side of the garden area while you helped your Aunt Olivia set up the table.

“He’s quite the personality, Y/N.” She mused.

“Wherever did you find a man like that, Y/N?” Your cousin Evelyn commented, staring back. “Woot, what a view.”

You smiled and looked at Shohei socializing with your family. The moment the two of you entered Aunt Olivia’s home, everyone stared in awe. After introductions were made, Shohei made connections pretty quickly with his bubbly personality. You can also hear his occasional booming laughter from their group.

You were on your way to the kitchen when a hand on your waist suddenly pulled you from behind. Shohei led you to the empty pantry and pushed you back to the wall, his hands up on the wall and caging you.

“Hi?” 

“Hi.” He looked deep into your eyes, like he was looking for something. “Anyplace in this house, we are pretending, yes?”

“Yes, the moment we stepped out of the car. We are boyfriend and girlfriend.” You confirmed.

“Even here?” His lips shadowed lightly on yours, nose grazing yours. 

“Uhm. Yes.” You breathed and that would be your last breath for a while as Shohei kissed you full on the mouth. 

He kissed you frantically, with need and fervor. You put your hands over his shoulders and his hands reached the back of your leg, putting it over his waist. You stifled a moan as he bit your neck and peppered your chest with small kisses. You can’t help but push your hips forward and roll it against his. 

You broke apart like a deer in headlights when you heard footsteps nearby. You pushed Shohei and straightened your clothes. You wiped Shohei’s lipstick-stained mouth and ran away as fast as you could. Shohei, who was as kiss-hungry and love drunk as you were, could only smirk at your retreating form. 

During brunch, you sat with Aunt Olivia on your right and Shohei, by default, on your left side. You were trying to make conversation about the current weather news report while eating your plate of mashed potatoes, all while trying to avoid any contact with Shohei. 

He noticed you have been avoidant after the hot makeout session in the pantry. He put a hand on your thigh under the table, pinching it with reassurance.

“Are we good, Y/N?”

You nodded wordlessly and smiled at him. Something about the way Shohei’s attentiveness always hits you to your core. You’ve never felt this so cared for before that it’s almost bewitching. 

The party started getting up and divided: your aunts and uncles dancing happily on one side, your cousins taking selfies on the other. Meanwhile you and Shohei were left sitting comfortably by the dining table, enjoying the sweet ambiance of everyone around you. 

You held his arm gingerly, almost seductively when you felt his hard muscles from his shirt. A few moments ago, you had almost stripped him naked in the pantry with all of your aunt’s condiments as your audience.

“Why are you so toned? What are you working out for?” You said jokingly, pressing on his biceps in amazement.

“I’m preparing for the next man who tries to steal you.” He leaned in and whispered in your ear. You giggled. 

“No one can take me away from you!” You whispered back, resting your head on his shoulder. You were on your third glass of wine and it isn’t noon yet. You feel tipsy and giggly in the comfort of Shohei’s strong arms. 

“And this is a toast to our new couple, Y/N and Shohei, may this relationship be longer than the last one.” Uncle Ben bellowed, attracting laughter from the rest of the family. They clinked their glasses and toasted for the nth time today. 

You raised your own glass and sipped your wine. 

“Don’t mind them, they’re always like that when I bring a guy to brunch.”

He caressed your thigh and wanted to push the button. “Which guys?”

“Hm? Oh just Jack and Patrick. Although Patrick doesn’t count, because he’s my bestie.” Shohei looked at you and wondered who Patrick may be. He felt a bubbling feeling at the pit of his stomach. Is he jealous? Angry? That he wasn’t the first person you introduced to your family. He shrugged it off. This is just all an act, anyway. Get your shit together, man.

“This may be my favorite brunch ever.” You concluded, finishing the last few drops of your wine. Shohei stole the glass from your hand and replaced it with his. 

“The weather is perfect, the food is great, all of my mom’s family is here. And I don’t feel alone… thanks to you.” You traced circles on the back of Shohei’s palm with your thumb. 

“Why don’t we end this with a bang, Y/N?”

Shohei’s smile invites you to a peck on the lips. He held the back of your head and gently kissed you deeply, slowly this time. You don’t resist and he doesn’t let go. You hear cheers from the background as you kiss softly. Shohei kisses you for the last time today with the hopes that it removes the uncertainty in your mind. That when he kisses you better this time, it would change your mind. He prays to all the gods that would listen.

You melt into the moment and hope it never ceases, because you go back to normal after it ends. After today, you and Shohei will be two separate people once again. And that hurts the deeper parts of you without you realizing it. 

~~~~

Shohei escorted you back home after the brunch. You rode in complete silence all the way. You really really didn’t want it to end but you also didn’t want to drag Shohei into a life that you’re not a hundred percent sure of yet. 

“Thank you for the ride.” You hung back at the entrance and Shohei waited, hoping you’d say something more. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

He sighed. “Wait, Y/N. Is that it?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Are we just gonna go back to the way it was now that you’re done pretending?” He said almost angrily. 

“Well, that’s the plan, isn’t it?”

“That’s your plan. I don’t want this to end. Did you ever wonder why I had agreed to it without asking anything in return? Because I didn’t need to pretend at all. It was all real to me.”

You stood there dumbfounded at the sudden outburst of confession from him. You thought Shohei would be more than willing to go back to his old,  uninvolved life with you. But he was right. You never once stopped to think why he was more than willing to help you get away from Jack, or to help you lie in front of your family. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking properly when I asked you this…” You blink back tears forming. 

Shohei walks up to you and rests his hands on your shoulders. “I don’t want this to end. Do you?”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for all of this, Shohei.” You squeaked, finally finding your voice. 

“You’re the most attentive, thoughtful, and sincerest man I’ve ever been blessed to meet. Even I get breathless thinking how lucky I’d be if I let you in…

“This whole fake dating thing was a mess. I shouldn’t have dragged you into my problems.”

“Y/N. Please don’t shut me out. Let me in, I’d go to the trouble of warding off your ex-boyfriend if I need to. I’ll be here for whatever.” Shohei begged. You shook your head firmly.

“I’m not ready yet, Shohei. I loved every moment I have spent with you, but I need to be with myself for now.” 

Shohei dropped his hands to his sides and stepped back, his eyes glistening with tears. 

“See you around, then.”

You watched him walk away until he disappeared into his home. You closed your door and plopped down on the floor. The tears that you were holding back came gushing out, and finally you were bawling. You didn’t cry this hard when Jack cheated on you but when you saw Shohei walking away because of your own doing, you felt like your world had collapsed. You wept until there were no tears left to cry, until the only pain you have left to bear was the hollowness of what Shohei left. You crawled into a ball by the door, clothes unchanged, makeup running down your face. Fraulein snuggles up to you minutes after, sharing her warmth.

Looks like it's just you and me again, Fraulein. 

In the next couple of weeks, you would rise early to tend to your plants, volunteer additional hours in Novel Nook so you could get home later than usual, and avoid the farmer’s market. You added wearing a baseball cap or large hats as a new fashion ensemble to steer away from eye contact at the risk of bumping into Shohei. The thing  is, your efforts to avoid him were reduced to nil as you bumped into him everywhere you went. When you throw out the trash as early as five o'clock in the morning, he’d be there, warming up or jogging on your path.  When you went to the farmer's market later than usual, he was also there doing after-rush hour shopping. Even administering Fraulein’s medicine time was an arduous task seeing that she still hangs around Shohei’s porch, not understanding your human conflict and emotions towards each other. 

There are days when you feel better and the sun is shining, but there are also moments when you catch yourself at the brink of a breakdown. It takes a while for the loneliness to settle in like an unwanted guest, creeping over your shoulder, sometimes hugging you at night. It wasn’t this hard before you met Shohei, so how was it different now?

“All good, Y/N?” You lost your train of thought at the voice of Aunt Olivia. You couldn’t bear the loneliness and the quiet of your home that you packed your stuff and stayed for a week’s worth of vacation. She joined you in the indoor kitchen table, where you were having your mid-afternoon coffee. 

“Boy problems?” she suggested. One look from you and she already knew. 

“Aunt Liv, how do you know if you’re ready to love again?” You said after a moment of silence. 

“You don’t.” She smiled and cupped your hands. “You fuck around then find out.”

She chuckled to herself. “You remind me so much of your mom. She was always scared of trivial matters, like falling in love.

“But when she had a good taste in it, she never looked back.”

Aunt Liv has always been fond of her little sister. Your mom. And hearing these words from her, reminiscent of how she had been when she was your age, twinged at your heart a little bit. 

“I’m not the one who’d pry on your relationships, Y/N. But he’s a keeper, that boy. I thought he was joking at first, but he seems to be serious about it.”

You knitted your eyebrows together. “What do you mean by that?”

“He said something when I got him alone that day. He’d said, you were tougher than a potato under hot water. But he’s willing to wait for you to soften up no matter how hot it gets.”

Leave it to Shohei to drop potato metaphors to your relatives on their first meeting. 

“When a man like that comes around, I won’t ever let him go. You’re lucky if you ever meet the same kind of man twice.”

You pondered on about Aunt Liv’s advice for the rest of the day; by nighttime, you felt an epiphany dawn upon you. The next day, you packed up and went home earlier than you had planned. 

“Go get him, bubba.” Aunt Liv wished you luck. You’ll need all the luck you can get and hope it wasn’t too late. 

It took you approximately an hour to get home by taxi, the car zigzagging across the street. 

You don’t know why you were rushing. He wasn’t going anywhere, not to your knowledge. He will always be right where you left him but something inside you was telling you that a second more that you’re away from home, and you’d lose him. 

You were trying to catch your breath as you ran on your side of the street when you bumped into Shohei leaving your front lawn, a pail and shovel over his shoulders.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He was covered in dirt from the knee up, his white shirt sticking to his body and full of sweat. He looked a little shocked and panicked at being caught mid-exit from your garden. 

“I should ask you the same question. What were you doing in my lawn?” You tried to take a peek but Shohei covered your path with his wide body. “Did you bury a body there?”

“I think that’s a good idea for your fertilizer, Y/N!” He seemed a little agitated and making offbeat jokes to distract you. 

“Step away. What did you do to my garden?” You pushed him with all the adrenaline coursing through you and jogged towards your front lawn, expecting a murder crime scene or worse, a decaying garden. 

Instead, you saw hundreds of tulips in different shades and colors spread all throughout your garden. Purple and yellow tulips lined up the path towards your home. Red and pink tulips danced in the background, swaying every time a soft breeze brushed through. 

“You’re not supposed to see it yet. I thought you’d be back tomorrow night.” Shohei said, rubbing the nape of his head, embarrassed at being caught.

“You remembered when I said… At the farmer’s market…” You stammered.

“Yes, you went on and on about how much you love tulips.” You suddenly remembered the photo before the brunch party. How Shohei was looking fondly at you as he listened to you rambling on about something trivial. It wasn’t trivial to him because it was important to you. And he remembered. 

You turned around and faced him. You held out a hand and wiped a bit of sweat off of his face. “Did you do all of this… on your own?”

He nodded shyly. “That’s not all, though.” He whistled and called Dusty.

“You’re the most stubborn and one hell of a fiery woman. But you’re also the sweetest, softest, clingiest woman I’ve lucked out on. You’re so beautiful sometimes it hurts. After that second kiss, I knew right away that I’d have to fight tooth and nail for you to keep needing and wanting me."

Dusty bursted out of Shohei’s garden stringing along a reluctant Fraulein scruffed by the neck. Both of them were wearing cute red bow ties on their neck each laced with individual messages. 

You pulled Dusty’s message and read, “I want to call you “mom” so will you be my dad’s girlfriend?

You squealed in delight as you unraveled the next message pinned on Fraulein’s bow tie: “I loved him first but can you keep him forever?”

You swooned and laughed at the corniness and the teeth-rotting sweetness. You can’t help but jump into Shohei’s arms and give him a big hug despite all the sweat and grime on his body. 

“Ew, you got all your sweat on me.” You playfully joked at the parting.

“Hmm, you have no choice but to shower with me now.” He lifted you by the waist and carried you on top of his shoulders, both of you laughing and shrieking like newly weds on honeymoon, Dusty and Fraulein at your tails. 

.This place, this scene, and this warmth spreading through your chest up to your fingertips, all of it and the familiarity of it, you realized, is the only thing you need to live a lifetime of love and happiness. You were wondering where it was all this time and you understand now that it had been right beside you all along.

#shohei ohtani au #shohei ohtani imagines #shohei ohtani pov #shohei ohtani fluff #it's giving autumn girl red taylor's version color grading

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [7]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, medical trauma (nothing graphic, if you can watch a hospital TV show you can manage this), nightmares, blood and injury, think that’s it for this one

Word Count: 5,415

Summary: When  you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a   Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child.   However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous  night,  you found it to be the only feasible option you had left.  Nevarro was a  far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned  out to be  exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you  fall more  and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears  its ugly  head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Ch. #07: SORAN

Chapter Summary: Your past visits you in your sleep, but you find comfort in the Marshal’s bed.

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep.

And miles to go before I sleep.

And miles to go before I sleep."

- Robert Frost

  You stared down at the large vomit stain that covered the side of your white coat. With a grimace, you shrugged out of the item and held it in your hand not knowing what to do with it now. A sharp whistle had you glancing over your shoulder to see Lee making his way toward you. The Zabrak pointed at you with the holopad in his hand. “You just gonna stand there all day, doc?”

  “Last patient threw up on me.” You replied sheepishly. “And I think my brain has short circuited.”

  “You’re only on hour 7 of 12. If you’re losing it now then what are we all gonna do for the next 5 hours?” Lee questioned with a grin. Down here in the Emergency Department, Lee was, without question, your favorite nurse. He was good at his job, fun to work with, and he was intimidating looking enough to scare any of the patients who tried to cause trouble. The complete package. “How about this? I take the gross white coat,” He took the jacket out of your hand, “And you go to room 14.”

  You took the holopad he was holding out to you and shot him a skeptical look. “What’s waiting for me in room 14? Is it worse or better than a vomit covered white coat?”

  “Oh come on, what’s the fun if I tell you?” Lee smirked. He wandered away and you typed in your physician code into the holopad to pull up the patient’s intake information. As you read over the chart, you chuckled. Plain old sprained ankle. Much better than vomit. You made your way down the busy hall toward the room, but you were only passing room 6 when an alarm began to ring overhead. Trauma alert. Something big was coming in. That meant the ankle was going to have to wait. You hurried back the way you came and⏤

 “Cyar’ika.”

You startled awake, but a hand on your shoulder kept you from sitting up. Mando was kneeling beside your bed and he was wearing his full suit of beskar. The room was dark. Moonlight spilled through your window, through the blinds, and it was the only reason you could see him. Your eyes darted to the nightstand where the alarm clock read ‘2:04’.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What’s wrong?” You asked and grimaced at your sleep laden voice. “Is Grogu⏤”

“He’s fine. I have to go to work.”

You sat up slowly and Mando pulled his hand back to let you. “Is everything alright?”

“You remember those pirates from four days ago?” Mando asked. You nodded. “They’re back. It’s okay though. I just wanted to let you know in case. Grogu’s been coughing more tonight than usual.”

It took a second for you to wrap your brain around all of that information at once. You nodded though as everything began to click. “Umm,” You rubbed your face with your hands, “Okay. I’ll walk you out. Grab the pram from the office and bring it in here so he can sleep close by⏤”

“Just sleep in my room.”

“Huh?”

Mando held a hand out to you, and for a moment you thought you had to be misunderstanding what he was saying. Still, you took his hand and let him pull you out of bed. He scooped an item off your night stand and led you out of your room⏤ your hand still in his gloved one. Mando took you into his room and when you entered you could hear Grogu’s soft snores. A little bout of coughing interrupted the snoring momentarily. Mando lightly took your by the arm and you focused back on him as he attached the communicator there. That must have been what he grabbed from your night stand.

“Call me if you need anything.” Mando said. He carefully maneuvered you backwards until the back of your legs stumbled into his bed. You fell into a seated position on his mattress and if you weren’t still so groggy with sleep you’d be mortified with embarrassment at the heat that filled your belly while staring up at him. Mando guiding you to his bed, standing over you at his full height. When the sun rose, you’d play this moment in your head over and over again.

You just sat there, blinking up at him, and Mando cautiously set his hands on your shoulders to guide you back. He squeezed your shoulder once then pulled the blanket over you. Before he could turn away, you reached out to catch his wrist. He glanced down at you, and this time you were the one squeezing him in reassurance. “Be careful, Mando. Come back safe.”

“I will.”

Slowly, your hand fell from his as he walked out. Mando’s bed was soft and warm. As you took in deep breaths, the smell of his sheets began to lull you back to sleep. You were too tired to pinpoint exactly what the scent was, but it was him. It smelled like him and you couldn’t help but associate that smell with safety. You were warm and you were safe. Grogu’s soft, rhythmic snores pushed you over the edge right into sleep.

  “What do we have?” A senior physician asked. You had gotten to the nursing station just as a handful of other doctors and nurses did. All awaiting the same news as you. The transporter on the comm unit began to call out patients. After they began to describe the fifth patient, the senior physician of the emergency department cut in. “Whoa, whoa. What the kriff happened? Where are all these injuries coming from?”

  “Starship collision. It rained down into the middle of the city, took out two buildings and we have three currently up in flames.” The entire crowd around you grew quiet at these words. This was a mass trauma. Oh Maker. “We got half the patients going to Grand Republic Medical Facility and the rest are coming to you guys.”

  The senior physician immediately slipped into the role of team leader. He began to bark out commands of what to fill the rooms with and there was a flurry of movement as everybody began to prep. You helped clear out the main trauma bay which could fit four patients total and relocated the patients in the rooms closest to the transport door. There was no time to take a breath after getting things set up. The transport doors kicked open with the first patient and it didn’t stop. Back to back, screaming patients were brought in. You worked in a flurry beside your co-workers in a blur of blood and pain.

  You didn’t even have the time to be tired. It was as if you shut down a part of yourself and just burned through the actions. One patient after another. It didn’t matter how many you saw, how many you saved, there was always another. Always one more.

  “I dropped an order for the patient in bed 3.” You announced it to the nursing desk. “He needs to get to imaging STAT, please.”

  “Yes, doctor.”

  That one settled you moved toward the transport door where the next patient came rolling through. The transporters asked what room was open and you barked back that they could take the patient into room 5. It was the next one open. You paused to take a steadying breath. Just one thing at a time.  

  You hurried toward room 5 where a few nurses were helping transport get the patient from their stretcher to a hospital bed. As you entered the room, your feet stumbled to a stop.

Despite all the chaos, despite the flurry of bodies and flashing of monitors, you could only stare blankly at the woman lying on the bed covered in blood. The patient’s usually tan skin was pale and ashen. Blonde hair was matted from the blood oozing out of a head wound. Clothes were burned and torn, stained with red.  

  You drifted a step closer. Your heart was beating in your chest so hard you were sure you were about to go into cardiac arrest yourself. It was getting hard to breathe. People were shouting at you. Nurses were calling out for orders, but you could only stare.

  “I⏤” You opened your mouth to try and help in some way, but only her name tumbled out, “Soran?”

This time you didn’t startle awake. A familiar voice was calling out and it brought you back to consciousness. “Buir! Buir!” Grogu was calling for his father. A few coughs interrupted him. “Buir!”

You rolled out of Mando’s bed and rushed to Grogu’s side. He stopped crying out when he saw you and held out his arms with a whine. “Hey, buddy.” You pulled him out of his hammock and he curled into your embrace. You slowly began to rock him. “It’s okay, you’re okay. Buir had to step out and take care of business.” Glancing over your shoulder, Mando’s clock in here read ‘2:47’. Not even an hour had passed but you still found yourself worried. “He’ll be back soon.”

As you hummed and lightly bounced Grogu, your dream lingered in your mind. Ever since his appointment you had been plagued every night. They weren’t nightmares. A part of you almost wished they were. No, it was a memory and knowing that made it so much worse.

Grogu’s eyes closed, but when you tried to place him back into his hammock he immediately woke up again with a fuss. This time, you pulled him into your arms then wandered back to Mando’s bed. You crawled back to where you were in hopes that the smell that had lulled you to sleep would bring Grogu comfort as well.

You laid back down and let Grogu shift around until he was comfortable. When he seemed to have settled you pulled the blanket over you both. You continued to hum a lullaby and scratched Grogu’s back. Every few minutes he’d cough, but it never woke him up. You hoped he wasn’t getting sick. His first day of school was in two days and you didn’t want him to miss out on that. Luckily, the dry cough was the only symptoms Grogu had and it only happened at night time when he was sleeping. Asthma was something that had worsened symptoms at night. You hoped it wasn’t that. Though, you didn’t even know if his kind could get asthma.

As tired as you felt, as cozy as you were, you kept your heavy lidded eyes open. You knew if you fell asleep your brain would put you in that memory right where you left off. You knew how that story ended. You didn’t want to relive it all over again. So, instead, you just hummed and rubbed Grogu’s back as he slept peacefully. Your eyes darted to the clock then to your arm band. You wanted to message Mando, check in on him, but the last thing you wanted to accidentally do was distract him. You’d reach out to him for an emergency only.

Your eyes were getting harder and harder to keep open. The hand you used to rub Grogu’s back now just rested over him protectively. Before you knew it, you had fallen asleep again.

  “Soran?” You called out. You were at her bedside now. You scanned her injuries, but none of them registered to you. All you saw was your childhood friend. “Soran!?”

  She still didn’t respond. Her vitals on the monitor beginning to fade. A nurse grasped you by the elbow, “What are your orders?”

  “I⏤I can’t.” You took a step back and they stared at you wide eyed. You held a hand out. “Just⏤ Just keep her stable. I’m getting help.”

  You stumbled out of the room before they could argue, and you began to yell out for one of your physician co-workers. All were in rooms. All had their hands tied. Someone grabbed you by the arms and spun you. You came face to face with Lee. He shook his head. “What’s going on?”

  “The patient⏤” You pointed behind you. “I can’t⏤ She’s my friend. I know her. I can’t treat her. It can’t be me.”

  Lee dragged you back into the room and his eyes widened at the sight of it all. He barked out a few orders to the others as the head nurse then turned to you. “You have to act.”

  “Lee⏤”

  “Everyone else is busy. We have four crashing patients, doc.” Lee held your shoulders. “Take a deep breath.” You listened to his words. “You’re a good doctor. You know what to do. If you don’t start now, we’re going to lose her. I’m sorry, but we have to start. She’s about to crash.”

  Everything he said was true. Soran was wavering. Her vitals teetering on the edge of death. You took one more deep breath and then began to move. This was something you’ve done hundreds of times over the years. This was something you had already done a dozen times tonight alone. With Lee by your side, you were efficient. He knew every order before you could call it out and he was anticipating things you would call for.  

  Soran⏤ No. The patient was bleeding out from a laceration on her thigh. Cauterize it. Blood pressure was tanking. Push fluids wide open. Head wound was closed, not open. Needed imaging but only after stabilization. Femur was broken. Set it quickly to ensure no interrupted blood flow or further tissue death. Circle back after stabilization. The patient responded to all your treatments. Her blood pressure improved and her heart rate normalized.

  “Good job, doc.” Lee clapped you on the shoulder. “She’s stable. I’m gonna get everything prepped to move her to imaging, alright?”

  You just nodded⏤ still numb.

  Lee filed out while other nurses rushed to other jobs. While you stood by the patient⏤ by Soran’s bedside, you held her hand and let out a breath of relief. A panicked and panting man reached the door behind you and when you looked back you saw him standing there staring at the motionless but stable woman on the bed. Red hair mused and face flushed as if he had been sprinting a long distance.

  “Kurt.” You breathed and released Soran’s hand to greet the young man. Soran’s fiance was a good man. You didn’t know him as well as you wished you did, but that’s because you’ve just been so busy with training. Soran loved and trusted him though and that was enough for you. You trusted her judgment. Hers had always been better than yours.  

  “Is she?” His eyes filled with tears.

  You pulled him into a short, comforting hug then helped him to Soran’s bedside. “She’s stable.”

  “I⏤I⏤I was on the phone with her when it⏤it⏤” Kurt let out a shaky sob. “I heard her scream and then the call⏤”

  “Soran is okay. She’s strong. Everything is going to be alright.” You rubbed his back. “I have to go, but call me if you need anything. Someone should come in soon to take her for imaging. You’ll be able to walk with her.”

  Kurt nodded. You began to leave, but a worrisome chirp rang out in the room. Nervous, you turned and stared at Soran’s monitors. They chirped again. You watched in horror as her oxygen level began to slowly drop. With each decrease it gave out a bone chilling chirp. Then, Soran gasped for air, her back spasming off the bed. Her heart rate rocketed up and Kurt was yelling. You could only take one step in her direction before the rapid sound of her heart rate monitor was replaced with the shrill sound of a flat line.  

  Soran’s heart had stopped.

If Din never saw one of Pirate King Gorian Shard’s lackeys again it would be too soon. The problem had been taken care of, the pirates either killed or chased away, but they hadn’t gone without leaving him a party favor. As he limped into his house, he grunted as a flash of pain rocketed through him. A pirate got a lucky shot and a vibro blade had caught him right between a gap of his beskar. It was on his right side adjacent to his shoulder blade and he hadn’t even gotten the chance to look at it yet. As if that wasn’t enough a solid blow to his thigh left him with a bruise deep enough to keep him from being able to put his full weight on it.

He quietly made his way through his house and toward his room. He’d shed his armor there and hopefully be able to sneak out before waking you or Grogu. Din pushed his cracked door open and paused. It was a little before six in the morning which meant there was just enough light coming up from the horizon to fill his room with dim light.

You were curled in his bed with Grogu sleeping soundly by your side. Your hand rested on his back as you both slept in peace. Din felt his chest ache at the sight. When he woke you up this morning, he had pure intentions by recommending you rest in his bed. You’d be close to Grogu and oddly it just felt safer to him⏤ not that he had any evidence of that. However, when you sat on his bed staring up at him through your lashes, he couldn’t use the word ‘pure’ to describe any part of him. Din thought surely that mental image wouldn’t be beat out by anything else, but this moment was proving him wrong.

Seeing you in his bed, curled around his son, in the early morning light so safe and sound did something to him. Din had the overwhelming desire to shed all his armor and slide into bed behind you. Revel in this soft moment. If he wasn’t actively bleeding, and it wasn’t a blatant violation of your personal space, he may have given in.

Din let out a soft breath and walked over to his dresser to start unlatching his armor. He got halfway through shedding his beskar when he heard you gasp. Din whipped around worried he had woken you. He found instead that you were still sleeping, but your peace was interrupted. Your face was scrunched in pain as you began to twitch. He set down his chest piece and walked around his bed. He knelt on the side Grogu wasn’t laying to cautiously set a hand on your arm. You began to cry in your sleep, hyperventilating, and Din made up his mind then.

“Cyar’ika.” He shook you lightly. You thrashed under him, and he wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you away from where Grogu still snored. You were on your back now. “Cyar’ika⏤”

“Soran!” You gasped, eyes snapping wide open. Din lifted the hand on your arm to cup the side of your face. He had already taken off his gloves so he could actually feel your flushed skin under hand. Your breathing was calming as you began to settle. You had called out your own name. Din wondered what that was about. He couldn’t focus on it long because your eyes snapped to meet his. “Mando?”

“You were having a nightmare.” He whispered.

Your hand raised to rest on top of his, squeezing it once, “Are you okay? What happened with the pirates?”

“It’s all fine. They’ve been handled.” Din replied.

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you hurt, Mando?” Your words were hushed but filled with worry. Din paused. He didn’t want to worry you, but he also didn’t like the idea of lying to you. The silence was answer enough for you because you immediately sat up with wide eyes. “You are, aren’t you?”

Din cleared his throat. “It’s not bad.”

“I don’t believe you.” You pointed at him and he climbed off the bed. “Bathroom. Now.”

Din chuckled at the authority that filled your voice. You carefully slipped out of bed and tucked his comforter around Grogu. Din watched you lean over to press a soft kiss to his forehead before padding out of his room. Din's heart ached. He took the time to stroke one of Grogu’s ears. Seeing the boy sleeping so peacefully settled his soul. On his way out, he stepped out of his boots, leaving them with his gear, and grabbed a clean shirt and pair of sweatpants from his dresser.

When he got to the bathroom, he saw you sitting on the toilet’s lid rooting through a first aid kit. Din tilted his head. “That’s not mine.”

“Nope.” You replied. “I figured since yours would probably only have Bacta and a Cautery that I should grab mine instead.” Din was amused, but he couldn’t argue. You were entirely right. “Can I… Can I see your injury?”

Your quiet question was the exact opposite of the command you had hissed minutes ago. Din wondered if it had anything to do with waking up further or being out of the dim light and in the bathroom’s bright ones. Din nodded and turned around. You stood from your seat and he felt you cautiously pull aside the torn edges of his flight suit.

“Dank farrik.” You hissed.

“Since when did you get a dirty mouth?” Din joked.

“It’s your fault.” You replied. “You’re rubbing off on me.” Din hated that the first thought he had at your statement involved a more physical interpretation of the word. Maker, he was the worst. “Alright, I’m gonna clean this, and apply Bacta.”

Din hummed. “Are you sure? I hear Bacta has some faults.”

“Funny.” You grabbed your kit once more. “How come you make more jokes while injured than not injured?”

Din shrugged, winching at the movement, “Blood loss maybe.”

He could hear you laugh under your breath and it brought a smile to his face. You bent over a bit before rising again. Din glanced over his shoulder to see you trying to find a comfortable position. He turned around and you raised an eyebrow at him. Din motioned to the bathroom counter.

“Oh. Good idea.” You mumbled.

You walked over to climb up, but he reached out to grab your hips. The quick, sharp gasp that left your lips sent a chill down his spine. Din realized he had acted without even thinking. “Jump.” He said. You listened, no hesitation, and he helped you settle on the bathroom counter. Din now stood between your legs and his hands were still on your hips. He pulled them away quickly. Maker, maybe he did lose too much blood. “Better?”

“Y⏤Yes.” You nodded then motioned with your hand for him to spin. Din turned around so his back was facing you and pulled half his shirt off so his right arm was out of the sleeve and his back on that side was exposed to you. “This might sting.”

The first thing Din felt was your hands and after the battle he just walked out of the gentle touch was intoxicating. His eyes fluttered close and he took in a slow breath⏤ melting under your careful hands. The first few minutes were spent in silence as you cleaned out the vibroblade wound. Just as you had warned, it stung something awful whenever the cleansing solution touched raw skin, but even with the pain Din found himself beginning to drift off. He had to lean back on the counter for support and rested his left hand on the counter’s edge on the outside of your thigh, trapping it in place.

“What happened?” You asked.

“Pirate got lucky.” Din mumbled. “It happens sometimes.” You hummed in acknowledgement and your hands left his skin. He missed the connection. Maker, he wanted more of it. The price he would pay to have you lean forward and just envelope his entire back, wrapping your arms around his torso, was absurd. Luckily, your touch returned and Din could tell from the gel texture that you were applying Bacta now. He sighed, “You said your own name.”

“Hmm?”

“The nightmare you were having. Right before you woke up, you called out your own name.”

“Oh.” You replied with no indication that you were going to speak further on the matter.

It didn’t bother him. Din had his fair share of nightmares and haunting memories that plagued him when he slept. There weren’t many he was willing to share with the world and he didn’t expect you to be any different with your own ghosts. You didn’t owe him that. He shook his sleep heavy head, “I’m not looking for clarification or an answer. Just…” Din paused. “If you need to talk, I’m available. I know what it’s like…”

‘To be haunted.’ He couldn’t physically bring himself to finish that sentence audibly.

You finished with the Bacta and he could feel you taping a large, gauze bandage over the wound. After another beat, you spoke up. “It wasn’t a nightmare.” Din wanted to turn around to look at you. “It was a memory. Just a really bad memory.”

He felt you begin to tug his shirt back down and took that as his opportunity to turn. Your hands fell back to your lap as he finished pulling his shirt back down in place. Din rested his hands on the counter beside you. He didn’t touch you again, but he was close enough that he could if he wanted.

“Those are worse, aren’t they?” He asked. You nodded, a small smile drawn on your lips, but nothing about your features screamed anything other than sadness and exhaustion. Din was sure that none of the sleep you got had been beneficial. He had those nights before.

You shrugged. “Sometimes I wish I had a normal nightmare. Some kind of monster or jump scare.” The chuckle you breathed out was lackluster. “Reliving your worst moment over and over again is… disheartening.”

“I know.” Din replied. Your shoulders were slumped in defeat, but the fact that you tried to keep a smile on your face anyways was admirable. Din’s eyes scanned over the features of your face, ones he had already memorized some time ago, and they trailed down the length of your throat. The shirt you wore to sleep in was a size bigger than you usually wore and the way you were seated had the scooped neckline pulled to reveal the skin of your shoulder. Any thoughts he had about sinking his teeth in, tracing the contours of your skin with his tongue, were interrupted as he took in the sight of your collarbone. There was a scar there on your left side⏤ as long as the collarbone itself. The jagged shape told him the wound had been deep once, and he’d guess a blade of some kind.

Din wondered if that was the memory you had been forced to live through last night.

“I’m really glad you came home in one piece.” You lifted a hand tapped your fingers against the side of his helmet. Din loved hearing you call this home. Obviously you lived here, what else would you call it, but after seeing you sleeping in his bed with his son it felt like the word had a different meaning. Din would be honored and blessed to come home to you and Grogu every night.

A soft cry startled both of you. Din leaned back, not even realizing how much closer he had drifted toward you, and glanced over his shoulder. Before he could make his way out, you set a hand on his arm and slipped off the counter carefully.

“Wash up a bit. Change clothes.” You squeezed his arm. “I’ll get him.”

Din watched you step out, closing the door behind you, and let out a sigh. Grogu’s cries stopped a second later. He wanted nothing more than to go see his son, but the moment he entered his room he was going to pass out. He just knew it, and it’d be nice to fall asleep in his bed with fresh clothes. As quick as he could, Din pulled his helmet off to wash his face and clean up. His entire body was tired, but he barreled through the routine in record time. The only thing he paused to do was rub some of the Bacta you had laying on the counter onto the ugly, dark bruise that decorated his outer thigh. Satisfied that he was successfully cleaned up, Din grabbed his helmet and held it in his hands for a hesitant moment.

He didn’t have time to ponder and pour over thoughts about his identity right now. Din just wanted to settle into his home.

“You don’t have to fight sleep, kiddo.” You mumbled to Grogu in your arms. It seemed the sleep he got last night was just as restful as yours. Waking up alone in bed must have spooked him because he was still tearfully rubbing his face against your nightshirt as you tried to reassure him. “Your buir is home. He’s safe.”

The words were meant to reassure the child, but they felt like a relief to you as well. Thankfully, his injury, though large, wasn’t too severe. Nothing needed suturing and the bleeding had stopped on its own by the time you saw it. You went back to softly humming and rocking the child in your arms. Every time you glanced down you could see his eyes began to drift close, but he’d open them again without fail.

“Ad’ika.” Mando’s warm voice said from behind you. Grogu’s eyes widened and he sat up in your arms with a startling speed. He began to fuss and cry again. You turned around so Mando could cross the room to scoop him out of your arms. Grogu immediately buried his face on his father’s shoulder, mumbled a few soft words, then passed out. He had been fighting sleep just to see Mando. You didn’t blame him one bit. “How was he while I was gone?”

“He woke up crying for you once.” You whispered. “I got him back down, but he was restless. I don’t think he got any good sleep after that.”

“That seems to be the case for all of us.” Mando replied.

You chuckled then motioned past him. “I’m gonna go. Grogu’s probably gonna be passed out with you for a while so I was gonna start on some laundry.”

“You need to sleep, cyar’ika.” Mando shook his head, aghast at your suggestion.

“I’m not tired. I⏤” You began, but the tilt in Mando’s helmet told you he wasn’t buying any word coming out of your mouth. Yikes, did you really look that rough, right now? You sighed and decided on the truth. You were too exhausted to come up with an excuse. “I could go to my room and try to sleep, but I’ll just… The outcome won’t change. It’d probably be better for me to just chug some caf and hope for the best.”

Mando was rubbing Grogu’s back and his helmet’s modulator made his whispered words sound huskier than they usually did. “Stay here.” You blinked in surprise. “The bed is big enough. I’m a light sleeper. If you start to toss or turn again, like before, I can wake you.”

“Mando, you need to get your own rest.” You said. “If I stayed... you’d have to leave your helmet on.”

“I’ve slept in it before.”

“But⏤”

  “Lay down, cyar’ika.”

Too tired to argue, you laid furthest from the bedroom door so he could have his usual side. Mando walked over to his room’s window to draw the blinds so the only sunlight coming in was through the thin slates. You curled up under his blankets as Mando climbed in on the other side. He carefully laid Grogu between the two of you and once again the boy’s rhythmic snoring was like calming, white noise. Mando laid on his side so he could watch his son. You faced toward them so you were witness to Mando’s bare hands rubbing Grogu’s back like you had done much, much earlier.

“Thanks, Mando.” You breathed, your heavy eyelids already fluttering closed. Sleep was already starting to envelope you so you weren’t able to fully grasp the words that Mando whispered to you. You registered it was entirely in Mando’a, but you were unconscious before you could question it.

This time, your sleep wasn’t plagued by memories or nightmares. There was only peace.

mando’a translations:

cyar’ika: darling, sweetheart

buir: father

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #reader insert #Female reader #star wars #mandalorian and grogu #grogu takes a break from being a menace #he's a sleepy angel in this #mando x reader #mando x you

[stylesharrys]

Can you do a blurb where reader has to go back to work after maternity pls I am also pregnant and would love to see some realistic pregnancy stuff x

Also this is a Tom request.

A/N: excited for all these pregnancy stuff that’s in my inbox, love a good tom blurb too!

// You’ve been putting off having the conversation for a little while now, not quite knowing how to approach it where part of you just doesn’t want to. 

It’s been almost eleven months since you left work for maternity leave and there’s only a couple of weeks left before you’re expected back at your wonderful job to resume your executive role. 

And you love your job, wholeheartedly. It’s an entire career you’ve invested years of your life into, something you’re incredibly proud to have accomplished so far for yourself. 

But things have changed. You’re not just a marketing executive. You’re also a mother to a ten month old baby girl, and the idea of leaving her home so you can go back to work is tearing you apart.

You’ve grown so attached and accustomed to your lazy mornings together and hectic afternoons trying to get the house in order. You’re going to miss your early afternoon walks and snuggles on the sofa, and the spontaneous naps when the day seems to be dragging a little more than usual. 

Staring down at her little face as she sways herself in her bouncer, your heart begins to clench. You don’t want to leave her, not to go into the office for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week again. 

Of course, Tom’s tried to reassure you that you don’t have to go back to work until you’re ready, but your bank balance says otherwise along with the fat OVERDUE stamp on your water bill. 

Tom has a very well paying job, four nights on, two off, travelling a lot but the money is good. Money was even better when you was still at work, you both had a very comfortable salary to live on. 

But with the comfortable money comes the expensive things. Like Tom’s new car and your new house. It was easy when you were both working, but being on maternity meant Tom was only one able to provide financially. 

You managed to get two months full pay at the start of your maternity, and then the rest was barely a quarter of your regular wage. It’s safe to say that financially, it’s been tough and Tom’s had to work extra shifts to pick up the financial slack that you can’t. 

He’s overworked, that’s for sure. It only seems fair that you return as quickly as you can, when he’s provided for the last eight months with little rest or days off. 

But the idea of leaving her… of allowing your mothers to take turns in caring for her while you’re off at work isn’t something you want to think about. 

“Babe, it’s fine. We can make it work for another couple of months or so.” 

You could cry. You love him, truly, but you just wish he’d be more honest with how much he’s struggling to keep up. 

You shake your head, pulling your laptop back from him. “We can’t make it work for another couple of months. We’re barely making it work now.”

Tom doesn’t say anything, just purses his lips and folds his hands on top of the table. He doesn’t want you to feel forced to go back to work, but he could also do with a hand or a day off. 

“I’ll put a request in for 30 hours a week, rather than my regular 40. At least then, my pay will be doubled and after she gets in the swing of me being back at work, I can up my hours again in a couple months time.”

Tom reaches for Paisley, bringing her to sit on his knee as she smashes her teething ring on the edge of the table. 

“Do you want me to speak to Mum about set days with Pais, split them between your Mum so they both get time with her?” Tom suggests.

You let out a sigh, nodding. “Maybe invite them both round for dinner tomorrow to sort it out, it might be easier with your Mum's shift work.” 

Tom nods, setting a kiss to the top of Paisley’s head. 

“We’ll make it work, darling.”

You smile, reaching for both their hands. “We always do.”

#tom holland #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #imagine tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagines #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #dad!tom

[blu3-j]

Welcome...Home..?

Overworked! GN! Reader x Welcome Home Crew

Chapter 3

Tw: Break down (Reader experiences a small break down), overall a bit of crying

Hoo, boy! This one's a long one! Strap in everybody!

So, as we left off, reader gets introduced to their...interesting situation, but doesn't have much time to process it before having to head in to work. What happens when the reader actually has a moment to process it? But the reader's not the only one in the story! The entire crew is here! So, how are they dealing with this stressful new situation?

Chapter 1 l Chapter 2 l Chapter 3 l Chapter 4

The day had gone by busy as usual. The restaurant was so busy that you were barely able to squeeze in a break. Just a small part of your shift, 2 buses had stopped by within the first few hours of you clocking in. Why, in all the world's name, did people decide to take a bus to a restaurant this early in the morning??? While one of your managers was kind enough, the other never bothered to care about anything more than their basic job, deciding to stay in the back office and never leaving unless a customer requested to see them. Any coworkers that had any sort of complaint or wanted to take a break were directed to the other manager. Thank god the nice manager was on today. It was torture when it was just the lousy one.

As for your classes, you only had one today. When you first scheduled your classes, you made note to keep them simple as they could easily pile up. What you didn't take into account was how busy work would be, and the class itself was labor intensive and required you to talk to so many people. You scheduled this class to be on its own for a reason, but it still dragged you down six feet under for energy.

The day felt as though it was never going to end. Little did you know, a little surprise waited for you when you finally found time to eat your packed lunch. A little note sat on the top of the simple meal, folded neatly with a caterpillar doodle drawn on the top fold.

"Y/N, it's wonderful to get to meet you! I knew you were a hard worker when I saw how peaceful you were sleeping this morning. According to your calendar, you're even busier than me! I noticed how dirty the house was, so I cleaned up a little. I hope you don't mind! You seemed so exhausted, and it's the least I can do to help make your already busy life easier. I hope you have a great day, shrimp! Make your day worth it to you! We're so proud of you, already! Signed, Howdy P."

It was small, but his written words made your day a little bit brighter. You almost found yourself smiling. The paper crinkled as you folded it up gently and put it in your pocket.

By the end of the day, you were once again exhausted---more than that, actually. It wasn't uncommon for you to be barely walking from exhaustion at the end of the day, and as much as you so dearly wanted to go home, the moment you sat down in the driver seat of your car you hesitated to turn the ignition key. The puppets were still there. Waiting for you. While you didn't think they would hurt you, your stomach twisted and churned at the idea of having to face that entire problem that you've been running from all day.

So you didn't.

Rather, you drove to the nearby library. By now the sun was already setting, and a little voice in the back of your mind urged you to go home. "Maybe you'll have some free time to do what you want," it whispered. "Maybe you'll have time to play some video games or go on a walk down that old path you used to love so much." But you didn't listen.

The bell above the door rang as you walked in. Unlike most libraries, it had a small cafe cove in the corner for those like you: completely exhausted and in college. It wasn't too far from the college you attended---just a block or two away---it was maybe a 5--10 minute walk at most from the college's main entrance to there. But you were tired enough as is, and walking was something you could barely do at the moment, so your car rested in its small parking lot. As you trudged through the entrance, the cove caught your attention. "Maybe a little bit of caffeine will do me some good."

Due to the lax nature of the building, there weren't many people that crowded the cove, so it didn't take nearly as long to get your coffee/tea as some places in town did. Not that you would know. This cove was the only coffee place you really ever went to for any sort of coffee or tea. Or at least for fresh and ready-to-drink on the go.

The cup warmed your hands as you held it gently to yourself and slowly trudged to a nearby table in the library. "Maybe I could take this chance to finally read that book I've been hearing so many things about." It was decided, then. You dropped your bag on the floor---a bit harder than you meant to---and set your caffeine salvation down to look for the book. When you finally found it, it had been buried in between the various other books; dusty and barely opened. A librarian friend of yours had once recommended it to you months ago, and now you finally set aside the time to read it.

"The Fall of it All" By Robin Feather

You found yourself quickly enthralled by the book. The story was of a servant named Eline serving princess and future queen Cassandra. The young eccentric princess quickly became close to Eline, and very soon began to allude to more secrets within the castle and its royal government. Upon the discovery of each hidden secret, Eline finds themselves further and further trapped in the middle of it all. Eline never once says a thing in the book; rather allowing the other characters and setting to tell the story around them. It brought a surprisingly well twist to the normal story-telling format. By the time you had ripped your attention from the book it was completely dark outside. That little voice in the back of your mind taunted you. "You can't keep running forever."

You sighed, and put a hastily made bookmark in between the pages. Maybe this would be nice to read at home. "And maybe reading it won't bring its characters to real life so they can live in my house." You chuckled at the thought. How ironic the situation you found yourself in was.

Thud.

You threw your empty cup in the trash bin. You had to rummage through your bag, but at the very bottom hid your library card. You wish you had more free time to come here more often like you originally planned, but you didn't have time for much of anything, anymore. The librarian quickly rang it up for you to borrow, and handed the pristine book back to you. With a final heave, you hoisted your bag on your shoulders.

"I can't keep running forever," you mumbled to yourself. It was completely dark out, with the only light being the occasional street lamp and the light from inside the library peeking out its windows. The cover on the book looked appealing, illuminated by the light's warm glow. If only you could just run away and forget it all.

But even Eline had to face their problems.

"I guess I can face mine, too."

The car ride home was quiet, with the radio softly playing whatever was deemed popular enough to bring in listeners. It was peaceful. Too peaceful. Like the calm before the storm. Your heart sank at the thought of facing those puppets again. They act so real...so..alive. Car headlights blinded you again and again as they passed you by, until eventually they were rarely seen on the road at all. Not many ever came up this far. Buildings turned to empty plains and then to forest as the world blurred by. You turned onto an all too familiar dirt road. Every gravel piece that your tires rolled over felt like another nail in the coffin. Another second closer to a dreadful climax.

The house was dark when you finally rolled in your car and parked. Were they asleep? Do they even sleep? Your heavy shoulders relaxed a little upon the thought. Maybe you won't have to face them, afterall. A gentle tired smile graced your face, and with a final sigh, you pulled out your keys and they jingled as you inserted one in the keyhole.

Click!

It was dark and quiet inside. It almost made you want to believe that what had happened this morning hadn't happened at all. Almost. You couldn't see far into the house, but from what you did see, your bookshelf in the hallway had been organized alphabetically, and the dust and webs had been wiped from the tables and nooks. Why is it so quiet? Finally, you closed the door behind you, engulfing you entirely in an inky black.

"SURPRISE!!!" A chorus of voices overwhelmed you, and the lights were turned on. After you recovered from the scare, you noticed how much more...lively the house was. Home-made banners and streamers adorned the ceiling, and colorful balloons and confetti were spread across the floor. One banner in particular read "WELCOME HOME, Y/N!!!"  It was so colorful. The lights were so warm. And in the middle of it all stood the ones responsible for it. The cast of colorful puppets you had gotten to somewhat know this morning.

"I...uh..." You stammered, wide-eyed at the scene. How do you react to this? Most of them stayed silent and stared at you with expectant eyes. All for one, however. Julie.

"Y/N, you're finally back! Oh my gosh, we were waiting sooooo long! But you're back now! Wally, Howdy, and Barnaby said how scary this all must be for you like how we're all kinda scared right now, so I thought we could throw a surprise party for you! Oh, we have so much planned!" She dashed to your side and tugged on your shirt, beckoning for you to come forward. She pointed to each puppet as she rambled. "Sally has a short play, Barnaby has a comedy act, Howdy, Poppy, Frank, and me made cookies and cake, and Eddie and Wally made the decorations and some of the games!" A single utterance was made from Frank as she talked, correcting her grammar.

"Howdy, Poppy, Frank, and I. Not me, Julie." Julie paid Frank no mind, too enveloped in her excitement to notice him talk.

It all felt like too much. Too much all at once. Your body took a mind of its own as you excused yourself to the bathroom. When you had dipped out of sight into the hallway, you instead found yourself locking yourself in your bedroom. Before you had even curled yourself up on the floor in front of the door, you heard a voice.

"Y/N?" Wally. He always seemed to know when you were distressed. How? He softly knocked on the door. You didn't have the energy right now. You didn't have the bravery right now. "Please talk to me, Y/N." The room went silent as he paused. You refused to move. "Y/N," He continued. "I know this is scary. I'm scared, too. Please, let me in so we can talk. Or maybe just a hug?" Your face felt hot again. And your chest ached. You buried your face in your knees, feeling them slowly begin to grow warm and wet. Wally's voice turned gentle as he leaned into the door. "It's okay, Y/N. I'm right here." A quiet moment rolled by, then the doorknob turned. But it stopped halfway. You had locked it. Staring at the doorknob, you finally meekly unlocked it before shying away from the doorway and hid your face.

Light poured into the dark room as Wally opened the door. "Wally, is Y/N okay?" Julie called out. Hushed voices filled the hallway and into the bedroom from the living room. Wally stared at you for a moment longer before turning back to the hallway.

"I'm going to talk to Y/N for a bit, okay? Everything's going to be okay." He smiled as Julie mumbled an "okay" and he quietly closed the door. The room was engulfed in darkness once more. "Y/N," the small yellow puppet walked forward and crouched down in an attempt to see your down-turned face. "Oh, Y/N. Dearest Y/N." His felt hand reached up to brush the hair out of your face. "Can you talk to me?" You remained silent, barely glancing at his face before looking away. That's when you felt him push your legs away from your torso and crawl into your lap. You gasped and looked at him, but by the time you saw his face, it was buried in your chest, his arms lay limp at his sides. What was he doing? His monotone robotic laughter echoed through the room. "I don't know how to hug." His eyes looked up into yours as his smile widened and his would-be eyebrows furrowed. "Could you show me?" The ache in your chest was too painful. Too much.

And you broke. You don't know how long it was when you finally stopped crying and loosened your hold on him. You don't know how long it was when he finally spoke up after your quiet restrained sobs stopped. "It's okay. I'm right here." He brushed the tears from your cheeks. He didn't like that his hands were getting wet and your tears would soak deep into his felt and stuffing inside, but he could make a small exception for you. You needed the comfort, and as somebody that you're going to be forced to live with until they can go back to Home, it's the least he could do. You were just as scared as he was. So, for now, he could be the braver one.

You looked into his eyes. Despite them being fake, they felt so comforting to look at. The dark black pools that sucked away the light that shined on them felt familiar. You had seen those same dark eyes in many of your stuffed plushies growing up. You had seen those same dark eyes in the teddy bear your great grandmother gave you when you were little. You hugged Wally close one last time, being more careful to not accidentally hurt the little puppet. "Do they even get hurt?" You brushed the thought to the side. Things are going to be okay. So you took in one last long breath, and wiped your eyes. A smile fell on your face as you looked back down to him. His eyes feel so alive. He is alive. He's just like you. You gently pulled him off your lap and stood up and reached for the door. The doorknob felt so cold. The hushed voices continued on the other side of the door. Your stomach churned again.

"It's okay." Wally watched you carefully. His small hand grasped yours and he squeezed. His favorite thing to do, it seemed. "I'm right here with you. You don't have to be scared."

So you took that final leap, and opened the door. Eyes were instantly on the two of you the moment light seeped into the room. Julie was on the couch with Eddie, the short puppet with a star/sun shaped head, and the large blue dog you hadn’t met yet attempting to comfort her. Frank was busy reading another book, but occasionally glancing at Julie, his furrowed brows raising and his frown twitching down a smidge every time he did. Poppy and Howdy were talking to one another closely a bit away from everyone else. Everyone looked to you. Things were quiet. The air was heavy.

Then Julie hopped up from her spot on the couch and ran over. "Y/N!!" She hugged your legs and buried her face. "I'm so so sorry!! I thought if we did a party, everything would be okay and everyone would be happy but you weren't and you ran away and we were all so worried for you and I'M SO SORRY!" She wailed into the side of your pants as she gripped you tighter, apologizing over and over and over. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came. So you bent down to her level instead and hugged her close. She really was worried. You found yourself glancing at the others. All of them were.

When Julie's rambling seemed to continue (how in all goodness was she not out of breath yet?) you took it as a sign to interrupt her.

"It's okay, Julie. You're right. I'm scared, too. I was so overwhelmed when I came back that I wanted to run away again. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help. I don't even know how you all can even exist here!" You chuckled as you pulled away to look her in the face. Your voice was shaky and quiet, but she could hear you. And she did. Her eyes sparkled. Just as always. Your vision began to go blurry again, and your face felt hot. "I've been trying to avoid you guys all day! When I got done with work and school, I went to the library instead. I was too scared. But I had to come home. I had to face everything. I had to face you guys, and I was too scared to go through with it." You wiped your eyes. Everything was crushing in on you again. Julie touched your arm. You're not alone. She's here. Wally's here. Everyone's here. "But I'm going to be brave now."

Her smile grew, and her eyes sparkled more. How is that even possible? Her arms quickly wrapped around you. Everything felt lighter now. The tension was still there, but things weren't caving in on you anymore. "This is going to take a long while to get used to."

Julie spoke up, her voice barely a whisper. "Then I'll be brave with you."

The rest of the night blurred by. You finally were able to be formally introduced to the final three you hadn’t met this morning. The blue dog is Barnaby, a jokester who loves to make people laugh and have a good time himself. The tall green one with multiple limbs is Howdy, a bodega shop owner that’s named his place the “Bugdega.” And lastly, the little yellow star being indeed a star puppet named Sally. All she wanted to do was be a metaphorical star.

The baked goods that Howdy, Poppy, Frank, and Julie made were...sweeter than anything you had really ever had, and each was decorated in colorful frosting (even the things that didn't need frosting). Barnaby did his best act with the props he could find in your house, and while he got everyone else to laugh, you didn't. So, he made it his mission to get you to laugh. The rest of the night, he made various jokes and acts, and eventually he heard it. A giggle. A laugh. Finally, you were doubled over in laughter, wiping tears from your eyes as he laughed with you. A few games were played while the others tried to keep Julie from making any of them too complicated, complaining that they didn't understand any of it. Mistakes were made, rules were broken, laughter was shared, and people (specifically Eddie) tripped and stumbled throughout the entirety of it.

Finally, the lights were turned way down low as you all grouped on the couch. Eddie had taken the job of directing the lights with a special hand-made spotlight, and Julie and Wally worked to keep the special effects going. As Sally acted her play, confetti acting as flower petals were thrown, backgrounds were occasionally changed during Sally's monologues, and they occasionally acted as extras in the background. You never got to see how it ended. Sally was in another one of her monologues when you found your eyelids getting heavy and the person next to you being extremely comfy.

A soft blanket wrapped around you as with two arms. Sally's voice faded further and further away as you leaned into the person. And with one last quiet sigh, you let the sweet appeal of sleep consume you.

#welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home wally #wally darling #welcome home barnaby #welcome home frank #howdy #howdy pillar #welcome home julie #welcome home x reader #welcome home sally #welcome home eddie #welcome home fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #welcome home poppy #welcome home x y/n #x reader #x y/n #welcome...home? fanfic

[novasintheroom]

036. Heart Break

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 0.8k

♡ Warnings - mild angst

♡ Description: Vash's actions catch up to him in the form of a letter.

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3.

Part 1 ---- Part 2 (you are here!)---- Part 3 ---- Part 4 ---- Part 5

The first letter comes three weeks and a day later.

“Got a letter for ya.”

Vash doesn’t look up from the shop’s window display of guns and bullets.

“Hey…hey!”

The man taps Vash’s shoulder. He finally flinches. “Who, me?” Vash turns, surprised to see someone just standing behind him. How far away was his mind?

The man looks him up and down. “You’re Vash, right?” He’s a thick man; stout. A broom mustache sweeps his upper lip. Small holster for a pistol at his hip. He isn’t reaching for it, but Vash keeps it in sight.

Vash lets out a nervous laugh. “Do I know you? I’m sorry, it’s been a minute since I last came to town!” A truth – it’s been almost twenty years.

A tomas-pulled wagon drives past and kicks up dust. The man – courier, Vash realizes, seeing the official symbol of an arrow with a letter on his hat – spits to the side, a hunk of tobacco splatting the dirt. “Friend o’ yers passed through a few days ago. Said to look out for someone like you if you came by.”

Again, the pistol is in sight. The man reaches for it. Vash tenses, ready to run and – the courier reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a small, folded envelope. Without preamble, the man hands it to Vash. “Tall, red coat, looks like a kicked puppy…yeah, gotta be you.”

Vash takes it like it will bite his fingers. It’s a dirty little thing, crinkled horribly on one corner and bent at the other three, but intact. In neat handwriting, his name scrawled across the front: “For – Vash S.”

The courier clears his throat and holds out a hand. Vash blinks at it, uncomprehending. “Twenty-six C-cents. For the parcel delivery.”

Oh. He’d forgotten that – he hadn’t gotten a letter in – “Ah, right, um, lemme just – “ He pats his pockets, inner, outer, and finally finds a few loose coins. They clink into outstretched palm, and he hopes it’s enough.

The courier counts, then recounts. He nods and hands back two C-cents. “Much obliged. See us at the post office if you want to send something back. Just down the road, by the toma range.” He ambles off, already setting sights on someone else in town. It’s just Vash and the letter now.

Carefully, he peels back the top of the envelope. His mind is awash with dread when the first pieces of curling letters meet his gaze: your handwriting. A piece of yellow paper is tucked into the folds, and he pulls it out.

It’s upside down, and he sees the slanted, scrawling handwriting first before he knows what it says. Flipping it around and right-side up, he reads over what you’ve written him.

Vash,

I get why you left. I wish you’d talked with me beforehand, but I get it. I tried following, but you know how to disappear.

You know you can trust me. I’ll keep all your secrets, don’t worry.

You’re my best friend. I think you’ll always be. Please be careful wherever you go. I’ve drawn a map on the back of my route for the next few months. Find me when you screw your head on right. I’ll gladly be waiting.

Forever yours,

______

There’re little circular wrinkles on the paper. Tear marks. You’d been crying when you’d written this. Vash sighs and holds the papers to his head. It has the faintest smell of apples to it from the lotion of your hands.

It’s tempting to feel his heart break. He takes a quick whiff, then turns the page over.

It’s a neat but crude drawing of the southernmost area of the region. You’ve got about fourteen towns marked down, with their names underneath and a trail of arrows winding between them with approximate dates. According to this, you’re at Trenton’s Hill, three towns over. You’ll be distributing library books and trying to set up new routes along the way. All to help the education of the people.

Good. That’s exactly what he wanted. You’re using your time and your degree as you should be, instead of following him around. He almost puts the paper in his pocket when he sees you wrote something at the bottom:

                P.S. – Did you hear about the guy who had his left side cut off? He’s all right now.

It startles a laugh out of him. Leave it to you to make a joke out of…well, whatever this situation is now. Again, he sighs. He won’t deny he’s missed you. But this is for the best. He looks again at Trenton’s Hill, and makes a mental note to go the opposite direction.

The letter goes in a pocket, and he goes on his way – sure to pull it out and look over the words again for nights to come.

dividers

#trigun #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #tristamp #writing #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #reader insert #self insert #nova writes #150 bullets

[moondirti]

serpentine (you're my collar)

masterlist || part two

pairing: Bodyguard!Din Djarin x F!Reader rating: explicit (18+ mdni) word count: 5.7k summary: din is hired to keep you safe. he gets more than he bargains for. warnings: enemies to lovers, coercion (not by Din), mild gore, canon typical violence, unspecified age gap, light sadism, brat-taming, punishments, virginity loss, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p-in-v, brief mentions of vomit and drugs/alcohol, fluff. notes: as a thank you for 100 followers, here's bodyguard Din! Partially inspired by Rescue Me by @charnelhouse, a truly beautiful fic

The hallway to your room smells like liquorice roots; a caramelised heaviness that cloys up on his tongue. Din thinks it suits you – the perfumed air becomes sickening after too long of a pause in its presence. 

You're beautiful. Insufferable.

In front of him, you strut with a petulance becoming of your status, nose flared and held high. His steps are short, heavy in contrast to your clicked ones, but purposeful all the same. He is to remain behind you; a shield for backstabbing dangers, an eye for oncoming ones. 

Some eye. Currently, his are pinned on you, tracking your curves up to the planes of your face. Your cheeks look rounder than usual from his vantage point – no doubt pulled in a pout. He briefly considers wiping it off, but he can’t decide what he’d like to see in its stead – a fight he constantly returns to. Your smile, while stunning, could never sate him like your cry. 

Din believed there’d be more honour in private work. 

Perhaps it was an ingenuous fantasy. He’d been too burnt out, exhausted after another week-long trek on some backwater planet, to give it much thought. All he knew was that bounty hunting had kept to its demands while he grew older; eventually, the drawback to his rifle put a strain on his back, and his joints started to ache for longer after a fight. The truth became too sore to ignore; he wasn’t as agile as he used to be. 

The guild wasn’t sad to see him go. With the Mandalorian off the field, they had a better chance at the higher-paying assignments. Even Karga, who he expected to be disheartened after losing his best player, waved him off with little more than a few contacts should he ever need the money. ‘I understand how it gets, but you’re an asset, Mando. I have connections that can get you good work outside this business.’

He’d been onto something. Din discovered rather quickly that he didn’t have much to offer but his brawn. That’s how he got here; your father’s was the first number on the list. 

He expected a typical job; an escort to a large banquet, a surveillance officer to a merchant's estate. But, as advisor to the Coruscant representative in the New Republic, your father had plenty of security for himself. Din was more than perturbed to find out that the real reason his expertise was required was to play babysitter to his spoiled daughter. 

He can’t stand you. 

“If you let me out tonight, I can pay you double what papa does.” You titter, abruptly turning to face him once you reach your bedroom door. Din almost trips over you; he tells himself it’s for the sudden halt and not the disarming purr you shoot his way.

“Doubt that.” He gruffs, inputting the code to unlock your door. The numbers chirp beneath his thumb, the melody far too familiar at this point. 9-2-5-8. He catches you sneaking a look in your peripheral. His free hand pushes your curious gaze away.

“I’m a fully grown woman, Mando. You don’t need to lock me in.” You snap, tongue sharp with harsh cynicism. But the words slide off his metal shell and drip down to splatter at your feet; your attempt is futile, the routine hasn’t changed in the week since it was introduced. 

Nevertheless, unprecedented irritation seeps through his grated reply. “If you acted like one, this wouldn’t be necessary.” Truthfully, Din never realises you’ve crawled under his skin until you’re already in it, burrowing – latching – onto all the baser parts of him. He’s dealt with every quarry in the book, he’s smart enough to recognise the bait you cast. Yet, somehow, his anger always supersedes his logic when it comes to that mischievous little grin. 

“Papa doesn’t know what’s good for me.” You attempt again. The faux innocence in your wide eyes doesn’t match the savage sneer that begins twisting your expression. Din’s stomach flips. You’re gorgeous. 

“Sneaking out every night is hardly a healthy habit.” He folds, again, feeding into the amusement you indisputably gain from your back-and-forth. Before you can comment on it, he punches your entryway open, gesturing inside. “Go on.”

The beginnings of a whine scratch up your throat as you bat his hand away. “You don’t understand! It isn’t like that this time.” He can’t help the scoff that cracks through his modulator; even if you aren’t lying, he doesn’t get paid to hear you out. 

“I don’t care. So long as you’re going out with those friends of yours, it’s all the same.” It’s harsh, a needless jab at your choice of company. But it isn’t exactly false, either. Though Din doesn’t see them much, he deals with the aftermath of your drunken raves far too often for him to look upon your friends with any sort of favour. It’s the mess you make – the demands that he hold your hair back as you hurl into a bucket – and not the worrying influence they have over you. No, that’s none of his business. He’d be surprised if you aren’t the instigator of their chaos, anyway. 

“That’s not fair. I can get you fired, you know.” You hiss, protesting with jerky movements when he pushes you into the space of your chamber. His body fills the door frame before you manage to weasel your way out. 

“Sure, kid” The scent is thicker here; candy, syrup to his senses as his helmet fails to filter it out. He’s made a conscious effort to stay out of your actual room, never traversing past the self-made boundary of his post right outside. As such, he takes a quick moment to look around, his helmet fixed in place while his gaze wanders. 

It’s large, naturally – he expects no less of a wealthy politician's daughter. Furry carpets and polished wood furniture decorate the space, set across a backdrop of the Coruscant skyline from beyond your large observation glass. A four poster bed takes up the wall to his right, sparkling gauze curtains pulled back to reveal your plain white duvet. Din’s chest tightens at the sudden urge to tie each of your limbs to a corner, spread-eagle underneath him. 

“Well?” 

His attention snaps back to you. Your arms are crossed over your chest, brows furrowed in irritation. You’d been complaining. When don’t you?

Whatever it is you said, he doesn’t want to hear it. He knows what his answer will be regardless. 

“No.” 

He steps back, taking in the way your shoulders tense. A sick bit of satisfaction gnaws at him when the door clicks shut. Your subsequent, frustrated scream is melodic.

While he stands guard, Din imagines taking you from behind. 

He’s past the point of young credulity, he isn’t going to lie to himself. The Mandalorian fosters a carnal desire for you that seems to multiply with every foolish act. It’s off-putting – objectionable; hate and lust make a bubbling poison in his gut. 

He fantasised about bending you over his lap the day you got arrested for spice possession. You’d used your call to contact him during his time off. Mando, you cried, Papa can’t find out. He was new enough to the job to fall for the act, making the needlessly difficult journey to Uscru district to bail you out. He had even used his own credits – worried that drawing from your account could arouse suspicion. So when you showed your appreciation by badgering him to drop you off at another bar, his mind lit up with images of you shivering before him, your skirt rucked up above your hips, ass on full display. You’d burn if he were to spank it like he wanted to. A girl like you, who’s never known true pain – the thought of handing it to you was the trigger to a wild, insuperable obsession. 

There was the time you brought a feral tooka home, intent on domesticating it. Your resolve hadn’t lasted long after it scratched your arm bloody, though, which left Din to deal with your little pet. On his way home from the shelter, he reflected on the lust that shot through him upon seeing you marked and discovered that he’d very much like to leave complementary bruises along your wrists. 

A snowballing sadism. When you crashed your speeder, he pumped himself and pretended his fist was your face. Your mascara had run so prettily when you’d sobbed to your father for another one – he pictured that the salty tang of his own sweat were your tears pooling onto his tongue. 

You’d gotten into a fight, once. He recalls it clearly, as he’d been the one to break it off. While cleaning your bloody nose, Din longed to press you down on his knee. You should’ve seen the other girl, you’d chortled, but he was too busy envisioning your cunt leaking with a ruined orgasm. 

Childish. Impatient. Reckless. You’re a hell of a lot to deal with, constantly driving him to the brink of insanity in a way very few have managed before. It’s a little bit harder to admit to himself, then, that he doesn’t like your pain so much as he likes the idea of instilling a lesson in you. Call it recompense for the lack of discipline you’ve faced in your life so far. But he’d never act on his whims. That’s all they are; cracks of cold compulsion. Din is better than that. 

Another clatter sounds from within your room. You’ve been making a ruckus for the better part of an hour, now. 

He sighs. He shouldn’t worry; you’re safe – secured by one of the highest suites on Coruscant and a Mandalorian as your private guard. What you do in your free time isn’t his concern. Still – Din readjusts the blaster on his hip and it feels funny in his hands. Heavier than he remembers it. It’s been so long since he’d had practical use for the weapon. If something did arise, will he be able to protect you as well as he once could have?

The emotion that arises at the notion is uncomfortable, unknown – different to his lecherous ire. 

A clatter, a swoosh. The rush of urban noise grows louder from behind the door. You’ve opened a window. Din recalls the furnished balcony he’d made a note of earlier and relaxes slightly. You probably needed some air.

Guilt unfurls in him suddenly. Din isn’t sure why. It isn’t like it was his idea to lock you away for a rebellion so inconsequential. Maker knows he was worse during his early adulthood; he had all the confidence of a rancor with none of the wisdom to match (the consequences of which are part of the reason he’s listed as a wanted man on the galactic criminal index). He’s able to recognise your ill humour as another effect of your age – you’re still a young thing. And you’d mentioned you had something special to attend to. In a moment of weakness, he contemplates letting you out tonight; if he did and picked you up before the hour sinks too late, what great harm can really come of it?

There’s the roar of an engine somewhere nearby. It’s a sound synchronous enough with Coruscant's bustling humdrum that he doesn’t think much of it until it gets louder, closer, so that he can discern the exact model by the rhythm of its purr. A twinge of uncertainty flares in him. The airspeeders shouldn’t be this high up; law regulates they maintain a mid-level altitude. 

Better safe than sorry, Din forfeits to his instincts and unlocks your door, taking one large step in to look around. Your bed is currently playing host to a mess of sparkling dresses and boots that hadn’t been there before. Your vanity is no better; fluffy brushes and lipsticks clutter the top. 

He was right, though. You are on the balcony, but with half a leg dangling off the edge of the railing. Din stills, watching as you balance precariously on one heel and try to hop over to the airspeeder that awaits you. 

For a split second, he finds himself unable to move. All hints of sympathy drain at once at your brazen display, and when you look back at him and cackle – promptly accepting your friend’s outstretched hand to pull yourself onto the vehicle – he curses the day on which you were born. 

The driver – a man he thinks he recognises – begins to steer away from the building. Din jolts into action, running up to your terrace; his temple is pounding now, a rush of blood supplying itself to his adrenaline, yet he’s much too late when he reaches the edge. You’re a good distance away now, moisturised skin gleaming with the artificial neon lights that line the airway. He barely catches a glimpse of the licence plate before your group bolts away, slinking between high-traffic, leaving nothing but the echo of your roguish giggle and a Mandalorian, whose vision starts to redden with pure, unbridled anger.

You probably reckon you’ve gotten away with it, but if the ice-hot inferno broiling in Din is anything to go by, it’d be a miracle if you last an hour.

He finds you at an afterhours club with fifteen minutes left to spare. 

It’s a humorously easy feat; you make it so that Din actually thinks he’d have managed it in spite of his skillset. Sure, he has the benefit of his head’s up display, which tracks fuel trails as well as footprints, but he was able to deduce your destination on account of your predictability alone. The entertainment sector – of course. Where else would you be? You seem to prefer the strobe of multi-coloured lights and the incessant chatter of strangers over the comfort of your own home. 

Technically, he locates the speeder first. The sleek vehicle you were whisked away on is unabashedly parked on the side of a very public avenue. Its chrome paint job reflects his own armour as he surveys the exterior – this specific model hasn’t been released to the public yet. He doubts even your friends, who are rich within their own right, can afford it. 

Din takes a second to think back to its driver. He thought he’d recognised him as one of your group, but the resolution didn’t fit quite right, not even at the time. He’d looked sorely out of place with them, in both age and behaviour. Combed back hair, dressed in a tight-tailored suit. 

It finally strikes him when he looks up at the name of the club it’s stationed by. Synko’s Niterie. 

Gil Synko. A major patron to the Black Sun Syndicate’s division on Coruscant. His was one of the many names your father had warned Din about – a strict order to avoid him at all costs exclaimed over a holo-projection of his face. 

And you had just… run away with him. Willingly? Are you really that stupid?

No. His conscience supplies. You’re not. 

A mad panic swells in him as he pushes through the line of people waiting to enter. Two guards man the door, blasters clutched deftly by their sides. He’s handled worse, but he doesn’t want to draw any attention to himself. Din trusts he won’t need to maim anyone to get you out. So he turns right around to sneak in through the back door. Apart from a heavy lock, which he shoots with his silencer on, there’s nothing else standing in his way. 

He enters through a narrow corridor. The walls pulse, vibrating, the sound of muffled synthwave travelling in muted thrums from the next room over. A bathroom passes him, the door cracked slightly open to reveal flashes of sweaty bodies pressed into one another, someone’s breathy moan catching a lull in music. When he steps into the main area, the immediate onslaught of ravenous drunks is demobilising. Din has to recalibrate, adjusting his helmet to dim unwanted noise, before he thinks to push them aside. 

He can’t spot you between the crowd, but your friends are huddled on a white leather couch, just beyond the VIP line. One of them – Hela, he believes her name is – catches his gaze from across the room. Her powdered face drops, and Din has exactly one minute to decide what to do when she waves over security, pointing to him with an accusatory finger. 

He doesn’t have to, but he does. He punches the burly man that marches towards him, a curled fist meeting his nose with a loud crunch. It should be incredibly satisfying – finally, a taste of real action after months of glorified babysitting – but his mind hums with a sole intent. He doesn’t register it as he kicks and flips attacking scouts, embodying a fury he has reserved just for you, as something far more potent is thrown into the mix. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth; overwhelmingly vulnerable, melted confidence around his nerves. As Din chokes out a woman who tries to shoot him, he grasps that the migraine-inducing, stomach-churning emotion is worry. He’s worried for you; for the silly girl who forgoes any and all consequences for her own quick fix of happiness. 

The club is empty by the time Din is done, the marbled floor a gruesome painting of broken limbs and spilled blood. He isn’t discouraged by his failure in staying discreet – if anything, he stomps with a new purpose when approaching your friends. Hela squeals and begins to throw her drink at him, but his hand closes around her wrist in a bruising  grip before she can. 

“Where. Is. She.” He grits out. A ragged exhale tears through his modulator. His fingers tremble the smallest bit – frenzied, afraid. 

The girl starts to cry. The others must think they’re slick as they slowly inch away from the scene, but it’s Din who lets them go. 

“I won’t ask again.” He tugs at her arm unceremoniously, rougher than he means to. Hela’s face crumples. 

“P-Private lo… lounge. In– In the back,” She starts, hardly able to get the words out at all. Still, she manages a loud wail when he releases her, her head bowing to tuck underneath her forearms. The sight inspires a prick of regret in the Mandalorian. He can’t ponder on it. 

He quickly discovers that the ‘private lounge’ is really just a corner sectioned off with velvet curtains. Din, who hasn’t paid any previous mind to the odour of the place, perks with the hints of your perfume. It washes over him, the presence of it more reassuring than it’s ever been. 

“How about… we take it slow, okay?” Your voice follows, pouring out a pitch higher than natural. His new-found ease dissipates just as quickly as it manifested. 

“C’mon baby, I got you into the most exclusive club in Coruscant. Why don’t you show Gil some appreciation?” A man drawls in response. Din’s tart temper relights with a vengeance. A sharp inhale, the ruffle of fabric, and he rips the partition aside, nearly blind, his vision singled in onto one slimy fuck spread across the couch. 

He has a second sense for you as you jump away, nails curling into the fabric of the seat. Your lips purse into a thin grimace, but you don’t stop him when he pulls Synko up by the collar, throwing him up against a wall. His skull smacks the concrete – it isn’t enough. Din forces him down onto the ground, placing a knee over his chest for leverage as he beats the face into a pulp. Over and over. Heavy punches meet teeth, armoured knuckles cut into skin. Blood, watered down with tears, run down the wrinkles on his weathered skin. 

“Mando,” If it wasn’t for the way you pull his shoulder back, he wouldn’t have heard the faint mutter. He pauses, his helmet tilting a fraction to the side to take you in. You’re unharmed, but you’re shaking, exposed legs covered in goosebumps. “Just… Jus’ let him go.”

“Do you have any idea who this is?” His question is a ferocious whisper. Part of him doesn’t want to scare you any more than he already has. 

“He owns the place.” You wring the material of your skirt, shrinking back when Din stands to his full height, a boot keeping the man-in-question in place.  

“He’s also aligned with the Black Sun. You know, the little crime syndicate your father has so vocally opposed in the past?” He taps his foot to Synko’s back. The man lets out a near-death wheeze. 

“I–” 

“And I assume his intentions with you were beyond just a one-night-stand, kar’ta.” The nickname slips with little awareness. “Go out to my bike while I take care of him.” He shifts to face the unconscious lump, but not before he catches you falling slightly backwards, stumbling over yourself. 

“But–” 

“Go.” He punctuates.  And for once in your life, you listen to him.

Din has no reservations about entering your room this time around. He shoves the door open, flouncing in as you trailed after him. He hasn’t spoken a word since they left the club, and still doesn’t, not until you brush the clothing off your bed and sit with a dismayed plop. 

“Don’t tell–” You begin.

“Quit.” 

Shivering at the command, you wrap your arms around yourself. He’s surprised at the lack of attitude or exasperation in the motion – he can only detect a quiet resignation he knows all too well. You look older now, here. He locks onto the eyebags you’ve tried covering in concealer and the shadow of a frown line he’s never noticed before. 

He opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it close. It’s difficult not to act on his irritation, it’s more digestible than everything else swirling within him. Not disappointment – no, he’s never really held any expectations of you to be obedient, but just… the uncomfortable remnants of desperation. While you’re right in front of him, breathing, living, even if it’s a subdued version of your usual zesty self, Din can’t get the concern out of his head. And if his slightly askew empathy is anything to trust, you must feel ten times worse; physically, you’re unharmed, but the mental toll of the evening should be damn near destructive. If he were to pace around and berate you, he wouldn’t be able to do so with a sound mind.

His silence stretches for a moment too long. You sniff, a withheld sob weighing your voice down. “I’m sorry.” It’s about the most sincere thing he’s ever witnessed come from you. Din gives you a single nod. 

“Not your fault, ner kar’ta.” He shifts closer to you. Your glossy eyes have to strain up to meet his visor. “He… didn’t do anything to you?”

You shake your head and bite your lip. “No. I– I thought I wanted to. That’s why I went. But he was… so scary up close. You came in just on time.” You break eye contact, head tilting down to survey his clenched fist. Gently – so gently he hardly feels it – your hand wraps around his. Your warmth emanates as you squeeze the leather of his glove, before adding: “Thank you, Mando.”

The acknowledgement strikes something in him, burrowing deep into an undiscovered need. He longs to show you that he’s on your side, that you don’t need to constantly fight him, so boldly – somewhat impulsively – he kneels down on one knee to match your height. “Din. It’s Din.”

Your lips part. He dithers; did you even care? But then your face breaks out into that decidedly brilliant smile, and he softens once more. “Din.” 

He represses the ache that arises for the way you voice his name. “Do you need anything?” 

You start to turn his offer down, but his fingers interlace yours and the pretence dies on your tongue. “I… I don’t know.”

“Tell me. It’s yours.” 

“I want…” You break off, searching for something beyond his beskar helm to latch onto. You manage to do so with little effort, your eyes locking onto his. That, alongside Din’s encouraging hum, fortifies your conviction. “Want you to be my first.” 

His heart stutters, his hesitancy skyrocketing. It’s not like he’s unwilling, of course not; you’re the harbinger of every visceral instinct in him. Impish, beautiful, terrifying – he’d be ready to give you anything you need, forfeit to whatever you want.  It briefly occurs to him that he’s doubling back on his promise to never again fall susceptible to your wicked charms, but something in your admission feels raw. Unfortified. You peel your persona of solid stone with the one request, revealing a piece of yourself to him, just as he did you. He didn’t think you were a virgin. 

He hangs back, his thumb rubbing placating circles onto your knuckles. 

“I don’t believe I’m the right person to do that, mesh’la.” At the furrow of your brow, he expands. “I’m much too old for you, sweet girl. You deserve to experience that with someone you want.”

“I want you.” 

“Maybe tonight has knocked you off kilter. You can’t just settle because I’m the first to give things to you straight.” 

“No, that’s not–” 

“You need to reflect on this for longer than just a couple minutes.” 

Your expression hardens. “Don’t you dare start with that.” You snap, regaining your moxy. Din jostles at the shift in your tone. “Just because I made one mistake doesn’t mean I’m fucking stupid.” At that, he cringes. He hadn’t realised how his admonishment came across – it certainly wasn’t meant to sound like he was criticising your lapse of judgement with Synko. “I want this because I want you. Plain and simple. You… You’re so– Just… I need this, Din. Please.” You gulp, the end of your declaration tapering off with a waver. When Din’s shoulders square, your free hand pulls his head forward so your forehead touches his. “Please.”

Your presence is overbearing. Candy, liquorice sweet – you’re a tooth-rotting, saccharine girl. He’s overcome with the temptation to suck onto you and see if you spill caramel or the sour tang of petulance. 

Din finds himself inclined towards the latter. 

“Yeah, alright. Of course, sweet girl.” 

So he delicately pulls away from you, fingers trailing down your arms as he does. He watches you flutter with excitement and chuckles quietly to himself. This free-fall into unabashed affection is a dangerous pursuit; Din couldn’t care less. 

He makes a point to draw your curtains shut, effectively cutting off the rest of the planet. It’s less for avoiding distraction than it is to dampen any light – he could fuck you in his armour, he’s done so with countless women before, but you look especially soft like this. Bitten lips, trembling thighs. To feel every bit of you pressing into him excites him more than anything else, greater than the prospect of you blubbering in delicious pain. Din lacks that sadistic angle right now. 

The lamp on your nightstand is the last to go. Before he shuts it, he takes a moment to look at you, sitting criss-cross atop your bed, wide eyes curiously following his every move, and feels a staggering adoration. He trusts you could unleash hell again and his heart won’t waver. The room plunges into darkness.

When his helmet joins the pile of armour he’s discarded — tucked away beside your own clothes — your nose nuzzles his cheek. Everything triples; your scent, the wet warmth of your breath meeting his. You giggle when his stubble scratches you, and his growl actually carries, no longer concealed behind a vocoder. Your pulse skips at that; drumming up into his palm as it smoothes over your neck. He likes exploring the evidence of the effect he has on you – a smooth reflection of his own. 

You taste like lollipops and the bite of lemons when his mouth closes over yours. Din relishes in its edge, suckling on your tongue while you moan into his mouth. He kneads the flesh at your waist, your skin slippery with sweat, and parts your legs by sitting between your knees. He’s hunched over you like this, your body splayed underneath him. The thought sends a rush of blood to his hardening cock. 

“Perfect. So–” He nibbles on your lower lip. “Fucking–” He kisses you. “Perfect.” 

“D-Din,” You whine, your hips lifting, your pelvis bumping into his stomach. The feverish heat of your core practically singes him, spurring his hand to delve between the meat of your thighs. 

A finger slips through your lips, coating itself in slick. A second joins in soon after, and the both of them rub through your folds slowly. Teasingly. You keen, nails digging into his shoulders while he brands your neck in hickeys, and despite himself, Din lightly pinches your clit in reprimand. You quickly collapse under the action, jaw hinging open above his head to allow you to let out a louder moan. 

“Be patient, beautiful. Gotta be patient for me,” 

“S’not fair. Just– just fuck me already,” Your legs kick out. Din chortles in amusement.

“You sure?” He sits back on his haunches, grinning as he guides your hand to close around his erection. While he can’t see your reaction, he can envision that adorable scrunch of your nose that you do when you’re proven wrong. He has it in him to laugh at the picture, your shock at his size palpable in the air, but then you grip a little tighter around the base of him and he chokes. 

“You’re so big,” You whisper, jerking him nervously. Your hand is dry – it catches the ridges of him, but he likes the minimal pain that blooms. He reciprocates, pressing a little harder down, his callouses scratching the tender skin of your cunt. “Will you fit?” 

Smiling, he returns to your lips. “We’ll make it fit, yeah?” 

You nod against him. “Yeah,” 

But you can’t fully understand what he means, for you gasp when he presses your legs up against your chest, his body shifting downward so he’s facing your most intimate parts. 

Din sorely regrets the dark. He bets you look ravishing, coated in your own juices. His creed hangs like an afterthought as he makes a mental note to eat you out in the light sometime, eager to watch you unravel. But for now, he settles, his mouth closing onto you, engulfing your heat completely. Your calves cross over his back, caging him in, completely discrediting the way you pull his hair and beg him to slow down. He doesn’t. He nurses on you, his tongue lapping at your messy folds. Your broken mewls only work to motivate him as he drinks from you – salty musk, addictive, rejuvenating. 

“A–Ah! I think I’m gonna c-cum,” You call out after a while, and his arms wrap around your legs to keep you in place as he doubles his efforts. His nose presses down on your clit, the dextrous muscle of his tongue breaching you so you can gush directly onto it. 

“Mmfgh– c’mon, sweet thing. Come for me.” He rallies, voice muffled. The vibration from his words tips you over the edge, it seems, because you force his head impossibly further into you, grinding down onto him while you scream your pleasure. You surge, the confirmation of your orgasm spurting out. Your honey spills into his mouth – Din spreads you a little wider, insatiable, trying to catch the liquid that soaks your bed.

And he doesn’t stop, not even when your arms flop down onto the bed and your legs lose their strength. You stutter weakly, but he continues his charge, only this time, he begins to press a thick finger into you. You draw him in, a vacuum, greedily taking his digital as it crooks inside of you. He unearths that spongy part of you, one that has you tensing your muscles and silencing your complaints. If he keeps going at this rate, you’ll cum again – he wants you too. 

When he’s able to fit it in snugly, up to the knuckle, and you start to rock onto it with rekindled enthusiasm, he adds another finger. You hold onto his wrist as he does, breathing heavily. The stretch shouldn’t be too unpleasant, but he waits for your signal before he begins scissoring the two. It comes in the form of a tap on his wrist. 

A long groan escapes you as he carefully preps you. Your walls contract, molten, adjusting to his attention. “Fuck.” 

“Easy now, little one.” 

“I can’t handle it anymore, just take me already.” You’ve taken to that demanding cry again, clenching down on him. Din tuts.

“Bossy.” It’s said with no malice. He removes himself from you, thumbing at your hole as he sticks the digits into his mouth, revisiting the flavour he’s quickly grown addicted to. When he’s sure he’s gotten all of it, he spits on the swell of your cunt, rubbing it in for extra measure. The lewd squelch that erupts as a result is almost enough to make him burst. 

“Spoil me.” He’s moved up to face you again. Your indignancy disintegrates at the husky timbre of his tone.

“You know I will.” 

Din lines his head to the dip of your cunt, the bulge pressing into you. 

“Ready?” He’s elongating this now, just for the sake of it. He loves the way your breasts press into him when you heave impatiently. 

“Yes, yes! Please just do it,” You adjure. His chest rumbles with amusement. 

And then he pushes in, the soft plunge of his hips assuring it isn’t too much all at once. Your body curls, wrapping around him once more. He can almost feel your mind reeling, absorbing this new sensation, which makes him all the more devoted to spearing you open, one inch at a time. When he’s fully situated, he lets out a groan of his own, diverting his efforts into not spilling into you right here. You’re skin tight, liquid fire – solidifying with each clench and melting away again with his small thrusts. 

“Hey.” Din prods, capturing your wrinkled forehead in a kiss. “How’s that?” 

“S’good. Amazing. Y-You’re–”

“Big?”

“Mmnnn… Yeah.” You sigh. 

Your breath smells like liquorice roots and citrus; a unique lightness that puffs new life in him. Din thinks it suits you – the sharp fragrance nestles itself deep within the recesses of his favour and makes its permanent mark. 

You’re perfect. His.

part two

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[somberjoon]

METANOIA [9]

✩ pairing: wolf hybrid nj x cheetah hybrid reader (f) - eventual ot7 x reader

✩ genre: soul-searching , romance🔞 , found-family , healing , angst , happy ending

✩ word count: 5.2k

✩ chapter warnings: uncertainty in behavior and emotions , anxiety , crying and loss of a grasp on what to do , some Y/N lore in this one with abandonment themes.

✩ summary: She doesn't know. There is so much about her and her cheetah that she hasn't had the privilege to understand. Unknown backgrounds and unknown emotions clash with feelings of want- hopes of being herself unapologetically. Namjoon seems to be someone that can help her- but can the rest of his pack truly be what she has wanted and needed?

✩ cover: me

ch.1 , ch.2 , ch.3 , ch.4 , ch.5 , ch.6 , ch.7 , ch.8 , ch.9 , ch.10

Y/N

She knew it wasn't going to be easy, but sitting in this office with Mila and Namjoon having a 'stare-off' is far more awkward than anything she's experienced or hoped for. They both were thinking- more-so Mila than Namjoon- but now she doesn't know who's going to break the silence first. Four minutes is too long when you're counting the seconds. 

"Maybe I can give my verbal consent?" Y/N tries to lighten the situation. 

"It isn't about verbal consent or whether or not I think it's best for you. Namjoon, you jumped into this process without even considering what I had set up for her." Mila counters.

"I know my priorities. Safety for someone I care about." Namjoon then counters her.

"This is not a conversation you should even be here for, you are not her legal guardian or pack, nor are you going to say 'yet' and act like it means anything." 

They bounce off of each other, Namjoon trying his best to act like he has the upper hand. In all fairness, he was just anxious about Mila saying no, and wanted to get a jump on things to show he was serious about this. 

“If I could?” Y/N tries again with hesitance. Maria gives her a sighing nod. “I wanted him to come with me. I didn’t want to be alone, not after everything. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know first, but I want this home to be my first choice if we could prioritize it. If it means that I no longer have the organization behind me…”

“You’ll still be under the organization Y/N, it’s not a simple chosen rehoming that changes your qualifications to be under the organization. Yes, our main priority is rehoming and making sure hybrids are in safe environments- but we provide so much that you would still need the connections for. You don’t have to worry about that. However, because their home is not one that is directly under our own lists and the pack members aren’t all background checked, it makes it harder for you if this is something that won’t work out. You won’t technically qualify for the rehoming part any longer if you go through with this- as the organization has proof that you can find a stable home or roof over your head on your own accord. It’s a messy thing that I personally hate, but it’s in the contract.” Mila informs. 

“When will she need to decide by?” Namjoon asks, leaving no time for Y/N to process what she said. 

“I can give you candidates that are willing and information on our shelter, just to see what your options are. I’m sorry to say that it is a short list. But, I’d rather you go over all your options, just so you know you have them and don’t feel pressured. Final decisions should be made within the next couple of days. Legal matters are far easier when you have an address and contact information, so as soon as possible is best.” 

-

Processing everything in silence feels wrong. Usually she prefers that, most of the time she prefers it. But, as Namjoon drives back to the pack home with Y/N in the passenger seat- the silence feels infuriating. 

"Can we talk about this?" The question comes out a bit more hostile than necessary, grabbing Namjoon's attention immediately. She's irritated more than normal- an emotion she doesn’t often feel, especially with her wanting to make the new chance at life worth something.

"Yes, of course. I just didn't want to make you feel like you had to take my thoughts into consideration. What's best is that you create your own conclusion with your wants and needs considered above all." 

Why is it so irritating? Everything feels like a choice that could lead to her demise. Everything feels raw and bleeding and her own decisions have been the ones to fuck her over even more. Yes, she didn’t put herself into this situation by choice- but, it's still all her. She hates being in control when she's exhausted and irritated and fucking sad. 

"I'm too tired to think on my own right now." She admits, her voice softening only a little. 

"You can rest as long as you'd like when we get to the house, only Seokjin is there so no one will bother you." 

"I don't want to sleep, Namjoon. I'm tired of everything. I'm tired of feeling like a burden in every space I'm given. I'm tired of feeling unwanted. I'm tired of not being fought for. Everyone tip-toes around me like I'm a fucking child. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to live life and make mistakes and bounce back to lift myself up. I'm tired of having to figure it out all at once, instead of it being one step at a time. I just want-" She cuts herself off, not wanting to admit how fucking badly she just wants to live with him and be safe and cared for. 

Maria was so kind, so caring and loving towards her- she was waiting for someone that she could be there for. But, then she got Y/N. A fuck up that doesn't know anything. She knew she'd make mistakes, but this is far too much for anyone to handle. No wonder no one wants to take her in. Namjoon probably submitted those reports of his volunteer time and that could just add to the resentment people have for her. Namjoon invited her to stay, and even his pack voted for it, but it still feels like something she has to decide. It doesn't feel like he's fighting for her, more so suggesting that she put his consideration at the top of her list. Like the perfect hybrid he is- he's thinking of her feelings first.

"Go ahead, say what you want." Namjoon pushes with gentleness. Even that seems to push her farther over. 

"I was only 8 when I started living on my own. Even then, I don't remember any parents or a lab or fucking anything. Everyone I've told or asked has assumed it was an orphanage that I left. Only I didn't leave it. I wouldn't leave a safe place like that so young. I went to sleep one night and woke up in the middle of fucking nowhere- I raised myself Namjoon. For 17 years, I was in and out of shelters and in and out of towns for my own safety. I don't remember anyone telling me what I needed to do. Ever. I never had a mom or a dad or a guardian to teach me. I figured everything out on my own. Nobody cares to even acknowledge you when you're dirty and smelly and skittish. I just want an answer. I want a fucking step by step instruction like a child gets when they're learning to ride a bike or make a sandwich. I don't want to decide anymore. I'm tired of trying to figure out what's best for me. Why can't someone else figure out what's best for me?" 

Her tears fall with no indication, no break in her voice or lull of her breath. 

"I want- I want a mom right now." 

Namjoon pulls over onto the side of the street and turns on his hazards. He takes out his own phone without a word and finds whatever he's looking for just to shove the phone into her line of sight. 

'Maria Caddel'

"I can't talk to her." Y/N mumbles.

"She cares about you. She knows you and she wants the best for you- just like a mother would. You are both in similar positions, I know she's been beating herself up about not being able to help you. You could help each other. She gets to know you're safe, and you get to ask for advice- from a mom." 

She feels awful. Maria was really so much of what she was looking for and now- she has nothing, again. 

Please ask her. I can help you, but please try.

It's a voice in her head that seems far more level-headed than she has been these last two days. They're right, though. She needs to try

She grabs the phone from Namjoon's hand, pressing the green call button before she can even think twice, and puts the warm device up to her ear. Her tears already streak the screen. 

"Hi sweetie, how is she?" Maria picks up almost immediately. Y/N doesn’t even breathe, she's scared and shocked to find Maria asks about her first. 

"Hello? Namjoon?"

Hearing her voice, how tired she sounds, breaks her heart. She has no idea what all she's been through during the process of packing the small amount of Y/N's things. A sob pulls from her before she can stop it, her lungs craving the pull of oxygen. 

"Oh, darling is that you? Oh I'm so sorry. What's wrong? Do you need help?" Maria's voice immediately turns soft and worrisome when she hears Y/N. 

"Mm-hm." A whining hum of a 'yes' is all Y/N can get out. 

"You need help? What do you need, angel?" 

Only after a few shaky breaths is Y/N able to get a response out, and even then it's barely an audible response. 

"What do I do?" She already knows she looks like a mess, still bruised and cut and bawling her eyes out in Namjoon's passenger seat- but somehow she still feels shame, picking at the band on the bottom of Namjoon's borrowed hoodie. She calms herself by feeling the texture, pushing on with a more understood tone.

"I don't know what to do. I said yes to Namjoon, but what if that doesn't work out? The organization-"

"I know darling," she starts with a tone that shows composure. She's showing that she's here for Y/N- strong and teaching. "They told me what would happen. Do you trust Namjoon?"

Y/N wasn't expecting her to ask that. If anything, she thought she'd ask how she felt about it all- a draining question she would've just sobbed more at the sound of.

"I do." She doesn't even have to think about it anymore. 

"I do too. I think he'd keep you safe, even if somehow it didn't work out. I think you should go with him. I will always give you a second option. I will help you pay for whatever you need in a place that you could start out in if necessary. But you have a great chance to live life with others first. You should give it a try. Mess up, manage relationships, and just try. Okay?"

It feels like a heavy cement block that sat on her chest is slowly lifting. Even her limbs feel lighter. But best of all, her heart aches just a little less. 

"Okay."

"Don't let anything that has weighed you down be the deciding factor in how you live. You have a chance, an amazing chance with a safe pack. Live, Y/N."

"I will try."

"Always try."

-

Y/N was really bummed to hear Namjoon suggest that she ‘think her decision over’ for the night instead of driving her back to the organization the same day. She had a lot of pent up adrenaline from being so terrified, and that just made her want to go in as soon as possible to finalize her choice. 

“I really just want you to have a night in the house. A sleeping night where you can see our routine so that you can be sure you feel safe there.”

By the time they are to his pack home, she realizes how thankful she is that he suggested she wait. As she is now extremely exhausted and it’s truly helping to dull the anxiety she feels being her to see the whole pack. She still needs to tell Namjoon. This would be the perfect time- before they finalize anything. Without her immediate response, Namjoon assumes otherwise.

“I can still take you back for the last night with th-”

“No. I don’t want to go back there.” She says firmly, coming out with little authority. "They know that I'm coming tonight?" 

"Jin-hyung already made sure one of the guest rooms were made up and cooked you a dinner to have separately if you'd like. He's very excited to hear your opinion on them." He gives her a cheeky smile that she can barely return, but it's with honesty. She has just realized how much she missed the fox. "The only thing that might be surprising is Taehyung has preferred being in his cheetah form since we didn't allow him to bombard you, so if he's still deciding upon seeing you again in his cheetah form- just let us know if you're uncomfortable." 

"A-and the others? Are they truly okay with me being here?"

"They want you to be safe, just as I do. They don't mind at all, Y/N." 

"This is a lot scarier than I thought it'd be." She huffs a small laugh, looking at the house that houses a group of guys that have yet to see her in her state now. "Would it- be weird? If I just let you know a small detail, before we go in? About what happened."

"Not at all, I'll take it however you'd like me to."

Y/N thinks about what specific pieces she wants to give up just before going inside of a place full of men- a safe place, but with men nonetheless.

"I only trust you to touch me in any way at the moment. I want to warm up to Taehyung, and I don't want hugs right now. Nothing constrained."

"Of course. I can text them right now, if you'd like. Or we can play by ear. They know not to touch you without your permission- they would never. But, all the mushy cats love it in ranging ways so- up to you." He informs her.

"Text, please. I just don't want to make it about me once I'm in there. Eating separately for now is fine as well." 

Namjoon looks at her, not her scars or bruises, but into her eyes for a little too long. She wishes she knew what he thought, why his gaze is so soft when it lands on her.

"Okay." He finally says. 

The house is so warm. Even the energy inside of it is a welcoming blanket of hope. There's a light thumping of bass and music that can be heard from one of the rooms Namjoon pointed out being a gym. An amazing scent of food and some type of candle or sprayed scent lingers underneath. The warmth seems to be the only hold she wants to have around her forever. 

"Do you want to say hi to Seokjin-hyung?" Namjoon quietly asks, again taking the time to set her last used slippers in front of her feet. 

"Yes, I don't want to be mean." She gives him a smile that he catches onto immediately, giving her a knowing one back. She really did miss the fox, and she was sad to not see him when he visited the hospital with Namjoon. 

"The sweet cub is back." Seokjin points out with a pretty smile. Y/N can't help but give him one right back. Seokjin is typing away at a computer, doing something Y/N can’t see from the doorway. Again, Namjoon is right behind her giving her the confidence she needs. A gentle, warm hand is placed on her shoulder to encourage her to keep up the conversation. 

“Uh, how are you?” She asks, not knowing how to get to the point. 

“I’m good, Y/N, how are you?” 

“I’m okay…I just wanted to thank you for- everything? I don’t know how to show my gratitude yet but, I want to make it up to you somehow. I’m sure Namjoon told you about our deal so-” 

“I would love to have you around to test my recipes at any time of the day. And I’m sure the others will try to drag you along in their array of requests. Your place here is to rest and be safe first, we’ll decide those later on when you feel up for it. Sounds good?” She can feel the authority he has over the pack despite Namjoon being the leader. 

“Okay. Please let me know what I can help with, though.” 

Seokjin gives her a warning of a look that has her leaving with Namjoon quickly so as to not push her luck. 

“Dinner is in the microwave!” He yells before Namjoon can shut the door all the way.

“He’s pretty set on how he feels with you being here. He wants to take care of you in any way that you want or that he can. If for some reason I’m not around, hyung is the one you’ll have to put up with.”

Namjoon must be able to tell how she feels about that, because he’s explaining more for her to grasp onto so as to not feel like a burden. 

“He always does it for us. He’s assertive but soft and caring. He just wants to keep us healthy and happy all the time. He worries a lot, so don’t be afraid to tell him off- he’ll always respect your space.” Y/N’s sigh is audible and embarrassing. 

“Okay-”

“Joonie-hyung!” An excited Jimin pulls Namjoon into a sweaty hug that has Y/N hiding behind his figure to give herself some distance from him. Namjoon gives him a gross sound at the damp guy before Jimin peaks around to see Y/N. “I’m glad I caught you before you went up to the room. Jin-hyung wanted me to prepare some clothes for you. Hobi-hyung and I are the smallest, so we put two sets out for you, just so you had a choice in wearing something comfortable.They’re freshly cleaned and have no scent.”

Y/N can’t help but melt at the gesture. She’s still nervous around them all, just waiting for something to backfire and push her down several notches in his progress. But, one thing she knows for sure, is that the whole pack is thoughtful in their own ways. Even if it’s suggested by another member, they oblige and do everything to the best of their abilities. She appreciates that more than they probably think she does. 

“Thank you so much. I can wash them tomorrow as well.” 

“Don’t worry about that, just eat well and rest well, okay?” His smile is far too contagious, a thing that seems to beam and strike you in the chest- forcing you to give one back. 

“Okay, thank you again, Jimin.” 

-

Namjoon

He knew it'd be hard to pull himself away from her. Y/N in his home, eating food Seokjin made once again, accompanied by the wearing of his hoodie and tucked so pretty into one of his home's beds. He can't keep his fucking eyes off of her. 

"Is this awkward?" She randomly asks between bites of the stew he reheated for her. 

"No? Are you uncomfortable?" He asks, making sure to look around and see if anything would make her feel unsafe. 

"No. It's just- don't you want to go spend time with your pack? It's Monday evening, Namjoon. And you’ve been with me all day today." 

"They'll be okay without me for a night." He shrugs. Despite the nonchalance he gives, he never gave Y/N an actual explanation. She definitely catches that, giving him an evaluating look. “I’m taking care of you. They know that, they are okay with that. If you need my focus for a bit then they understand.” 

She still doesn’t give him a response, eyeing him with an obvious display of thoughts clouding her mind. He has to think of a better way to say it- to be less burdensome for her. Even if everything he’s done has been out of want, pure want and need to make sure she’s safe and comfortable. 

“Are you comfortable with me being here with you and not leaving you alone?”

A nod in response. 

“I want to be here. I want to make you comfortable. I want to make sure you’re safe, Y/N. I’ve lived with these guys for a while, a long time for some of them. They understand why we both need this- to be as content as possible in the circumstances.” He explains with the most sincerity he can muster without spilling more than they’re both ready for. He’s sat at the edge of the bed, his body turned towards her with his knee on the bed. She’s set criss-cross, leaning against the headboard with the tray of just-about-finished food on her lap. There’s still something in him that needs something, but he can’t risk more right now. He would never do anything before she’s ready. Even a simple touch could be unwanted and could draw her back farther and farther. That’s not fair for her at all. So, he suppresses the urge to reach out for her as she thinks and tries to believe it with all her might. 

“Okay.” Is all she says at first. “Could I- uh- well you know I didn’t have a nightmare when you first visited me-”

“Mm-hm.”

“Could I have something that…smells like you? So I can sleep.” 

He can’t help but think about the effects that would have on both of them. She’s safe with his scent, he’s content with his scent on her. It would quell that little voice in him that needs more. 

“I’ll grab you something once you’re set for bed. Are you still hungry? Or do you want to shower and get changed while I go make sure the pack’s all set?”

“I’m done, thank you. Is that the bathroom?” She points to a closed door across the room. 

“Yep, you don’t have to leave your room if you need it. Towels are already folded and in the large cabinet. I’ll be right back. You can lock the door, I’ll knock when I’m back, is that okay?”

“Yeah.” 

He silently takes the tray of food from her. Lingering on the look of content she gives him. He recognizes her expressions with her being so open- he loves that he’s seen so many now. Despite him saying she could lock the door, he clicks the knob into the locked position and gives the knob a little wiggle when he’s finally shut the door, making sure it’s locked. When he turns towards the stairs to make his way down, he gets stopped by a very irritated cheetah. 

“I’m sorry, Tae, she’s getting ready for bed right now. Give her a little time and I’ll see if she’s up for seeing others before bed.” 

The cheetah gives him a huff before slinking up to her door to lie right in front of it. He gets comfortable quickly, not giving Namjoon a second look. Namjoon goes on his way, now finding Seokjin in the kitchen doing the dishes with Jungkook. 

“All finished.” He presents the tray to them, letting the fox take it with a content smile. 

“Is she doing okay?” 

“I think so.”

-

Y/N

God this is the best shower she’s ever been in. She thought the Caddel home had the best shower she’d ever experienced. But this one is perfect. Just like everything seems to be when it’s connected to Namjoon and his pack. The water pressure seems to his her bruises with enough pressure to feel massaging more than anything. The soap in the shower seems up for grabs, making her skin and fur feel softer than they’d ever felt. She got the temperature perfect to tire herself down and be happily clean. 

Even their clothing is soft and perfect against her skin. She doesn’t know who’s is who’s but she preferred the black, baggy shirt that was slightly more soft. She chose whatever pair of shorts and was ready to try out the big bed properly with her hair still up in a towel- but a familiar scent outside her door catches her attention. Oh, how she missed that scent without even realizing it. She clicks open the lock without a second thought, finding the literal cheetah at her bare feet. 

“Taehyung?” He opens his eyes to look up at her. Taking his time getting up and stretching his pretty, long body. Y/N is truly stunned at the sight in front of her. She’s sure she’s seen animals before that were just shifted hybrids, but this is- she’s obviously never seen a cheetah, and she definitely wasn’t prepared to meet a pack member like this yet. She thought she was- but seeing Taehyung in this form makes her heart ache for no exact reason. It could be her wish to shift herself, it could be the feeling of trust she realizes resides between them to make him feel safe like this around her, or it could simply be the feeling of familiarity her cheetah finds in him. 

Despite him seeming to have been waiting for her to be done, he waits outside the door, eyeing her in a gesture she can only recognize out of instinct. 

“You can come in.” She tries, moving to the side for him. He obliges immediately, jumping up onto the bed with no other invitation needed. 

“Does Namjoon know that you’re here?” She asks, amused and fascinated with him still. All she gets is a huff that looks like annoyance at the mention of the wolf. She can’t stop a giggle from escaping her lips. She jumps up onto the tall bed and stretches her legs out as she leans against the headboard again, leaving one side of the bed for Taehyung to lie next to her. He’s not close enough to her to touch or even indicate that he wants to sleep there. But, she still feels a little awkward with the prospect. 

“Are you okay?” She decides to ask, the cheetah having stared at her and her bare legs for longer than she thinks is necessary. A whimper of a sound greets her, laying his head down just an inch from her left knee that homes a large purple bruise. His eyes bounce between the bruise and her face before she realizes. He doesn’t like that she’s hurt. 

“I’m okay. Just sore.” She lightens, hoping he doesn’t make a huge deal out of it in his human form. He surprises her even more than she thought was possible, when he lifts his head to give a tentative lick to the bruise. His scratchy tongue isn’t comforting, but the gesture- it’s a caring thing that only her own cheetah seems to know. He stops after the first lick, finding Y/N not denying the instinct he feels, so he goes back and does it a couple more times, before checking again and moving to another healing scratch on her shin. 

A knock on the door snatches her attention away from Taehyung who doesn’t care at all that someone is here. 

“It’s me.” Namjoon’s voice calls out.

“Come in!” Y/N calls out, hoping he doesn’t get mad at them. 

“I knew he’d find a way to go against my suggestion.” Namjoon ‘tsk’s while Taehyung has no care in the world except for her bruised and scratched legs. 

“He’s fine, I missed him anyways.” Y/N provides, looking up at Namjoon as he rounds the bed to her side with a fluffy pillow. 

“Here you go, are you tired?” She immediately takes the pillow and gives it an unshameful sniff as she squishes the pillow to her face. It’s perfect. This has to be a pillow he’s been using regularly. She feels a little bad for taking it- but not bad enough to give it back just yet. 

“I’m getting there. My limbs are more tired than anything.” 

“Let’s get your hair dry and brushed so you can sleep.” Namjoon dotes while Taehyung is still trying to heal her wounds with his tongue. The wolf leaves to the bathroom and grabs a brush she couldn’t originally find before gesturing to her hair. 

“Wait, I can do it-” Taehyung sets a firm paw onto her legs, finally stopping his licks to look up at her and directs a huff at her. 

“Fine.” She gives into both of them, already figuring out how the start of her living with them is going to look. They’ve always been attentive and wanting to help her, but this seems excessive. It’s more than she could’ve asked for and far more than she deserves. But, she can’t say she doesn’t want it. It means being around Namjoon for a little longer- feeling safe under their watchful eyes and being taken care of in ways she’s never experienced. 

Namjoon is gentle as he unwraps her unbrushed, wet curls, gathering them all to start brushing at the bottom of her hair. 

“Caring in active ways is important to us. We help each other without words, help when we’re needed, and give and take in times when we feel we need to. A pack is more than just a group of individuals, we are together as one and care for each other as we do ourselves. Though everyone needs different things, we learn them and adjust, because we care for them.” 

Namjoon is soft in his explanation, distracting her from the knots he brushes through and gives her much more to think about. This is him telling her he sees something in her as he does his pack, and he wants to care for her in ways that she may not be used to. It also tells her that she can try to be this way for them too. She’ll try. Just like Maria said. 

-

She seems to have forgotten at all about telling Namjoon anything. After her hair is up and out of her way to sleep comfortably, she’s lying down with a curled up cheetah at the foot of her bed. 

“Don’t be afraid to let Taehyung or I know if you need anything, okay?” Namjoon tells her, giving her a smile before turning away from her. She catches his hand in hers, needing to know if he would rather she tell him everything before she slept in his house. He already seems to understand. 

“Tomorrow. Tonight you rest and see how you feel here.” 

She waits, seeing if he changes his mind. He gives her hand a confirming squeeze and whispers a ‘goodnight’ to her. He then leans down, giving her a kiss into her hair that has her wanting to cry almost immediately at how gentle it was. He gives her hand another soft pressure before releasing her and petting Taehyung’s pretty head to give him a kiss on his head as well. 

“Goodnight.” Y/N calls as she watches him linger for only a short moment then flicks off the light and closes the door behind him.

“Goodnight, Taehyung.” She whispers into the dark. All she hears is a content chuff. 

She’s safe and clean. It’s a feeling she’ll never take for granted again.

#bts au #bts fic #namjoon au #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #namjoon x reader #bts hybrid au

[megamindsecretlair]

Be My Little Darling - Chapter 6

Chapter 5 Chapter 7

Pairing: Loki x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Angst/Smut. Unresolved sexual tension. Fingering (fem receiving), spanking (fem receiving) Dom Loki. Mentions of survivor's guilt.

Summary: Loki is the exclusive owner of the hottest club in New Asgard. Dubbed the Nine Realms, each of the nine rooms represent a different realm. You are his second in command, working the floors and ensuring everyone is having fun. When a shipment goes missing, you have a tiny breakdown.

Word Count: 4,206k

Masterlist

A/N: Excuse me while I go cry my eyes out. This was too fun to write! I love, love writing Loki's dialogue. I'm deadass breaking my own heart while I write this! LOL. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @cantstayawaycani @braverthanthenewworld @monaeesstuff @headcannonxgalore @chaos-4baby @dayjlovesromance @theeblackmedusa @soft-persephone

You sat in your office with the door closed for once. Though, office was the nicest way of putting it. It was a glorified broom closet. With the size of the club, you ought to have an office like Loki’s. But the office suited you. It was yours. No one else’s. 

The silence of the room should have been annoying, but it was the only bit of peace you got. The guided meditation on your Earth phone told you to breathe. You were already breathing. Your sister had recommended that you use it since you’ve been so “testy” lately. 

It wasn’t your fault that she snuck up on you while you were chopping up spinach. She definitely shouldn’t have gotten that close. You didn’t mean to read her the riot act. She was out of her room for once and you yelled until she went right back in. 

You scowled at the little device and the soft ocean sounds it played in the background. So far, this thing was only making you more restless and irritated. Something had to give. It was impossible to do anything. 

The damn thing told you to pay attention to where you felt your breath. Whatever the hell that meant. You turned it off and rubbed your neck. Tension weaved a knot in your shoulder and you rolled it around trying to get some relief. 

Speaking of relief…you felt like you had ants in your veins. On more than one occasion, you had half a mind to march into Loki’s office and demand that he fuck you right then and there. Pride be damned. It had been a few short weeks of torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. 

Surely, the god had to have some kind of mercy right? You scoffed. He wouldn’t know mercy if it slapped him in his gorgeous face. Sure, he let you come but you needed more. You needed him inside of you. And that was the scariest thought of all. You didn’t need anyone. 

Least of all him. Pride was a poor substitute for warming your bed, but it was easier than relying on someone else to always be there. It was convenient to say that you weren’t like this when you were on Asgard. But you’d always been stubborn and did things in your own time. And nothing short of a miracle would move you.

Once you decided to plant your feet, it would take an act of the All Father to get you to move an inch. And even then…

It was too quiet. You were in your office, alone just like you wanted, and yet all you wanted to do was be surrounded by people. Okay, fine, you wanted to be around him. He made you so angry sometimes but there were rare moments when he made you smile or laugh. 

You rubbed your face. You didn’t know what you were going to do about Loki. You didn’t know what you were going to do about your wayward brother. He was disappearing more often and earlier than usual, not returning home until late at night. The last time you had told him about his behavior, he yelled that you weren’t his mom. It took every ounce of willpower not to smack him.

You did everything for that little weasel. You found them a place, you got a job, you put them through school. A little fucking gratitude would be nice. 

You blew out a breath and turned the meditation thing back on. Once more, from the top.

A loud knocking on your door caused you to jump. “Go away!” You had a sign up for lunch. For thirty minutes, you didn’t exist. There was no club, no employees, and no responsibilities. 

The knocking persisted until you stood up with a growl. You opened the door. “This better be fuckin’--”

“I can’t find the ale for tonight!” Justin, one of the kitchen staff, stood outside your door. He was short, about 5’6, with soft copper skin and dark, curly hair. He wore the white uniform of the kitchen staff, but he had his hat in his hands and wrung it out so badly, it had wrinkles. 

“What do you mean you can’t find it?” You asked. You went to your desk and flipped through your calendar. In it, the shipment was scheduled to arrive at 12pm. It gave the crew enough time to stock up before the doors opened. You went to your file cabinet and flipped through the receipts. “I signed for it,” you said.

“I know. I turned for just a second! It’s gone,” Justin said. His voice got smaller the more he talked. Palpable fear sloughed off of him in waves. You were about to ask him what his problem was. But there was only one thing that inspired that much fear. 

You walked to the door and pulled him in. You made him sit in the only other chair in the place. Would it have killed Loki to find a better space for you? 

“Calm down. Tell me what happened,” you said.

Justin shook as he ran through what happened. He told you how after you left for lunch, he went to the stockroom to check on how much space he had to store the ale. He checked on the bar to check inventory. When he got back, the entire shipment was gone from the back and no one had seen a thing. 

You nodded and listened. The ale was not easy to move. You half wondered if it was those guys again. They were big enough to move the ale. But that required a truck and someone seeing them. Justin had only been gone for roughly fifteen minutes. No one could move a shipment like that in fifteen minutes. 

“Okay. Okay, we’ll figure this out. I’ll check the security cameras. You check with anyone who was scheduled back there today. Someone saw something, right?” You asked.

Justin looked at you as if you were a frost giant that grew three more heads. His lack of confidence stung a bit, but whatever. You were used to being underestimated. You sent Justin on his way and you went to the security room. 

The tips of your ears burned as you thought about the last time you were here, but there was no time for that. With Loki’s extra scrutiny, you were no longer able to move around like a phantom. Sometimes, it seemed like he was there in whatever room you were but you couldn’t see him. He could be in disguise, but you hadn’t been able to see through his illusions. He could be standing right next to you and you’d never know it. Somehow, you were sure he had better things to do than watch you all day.

The guard opened the door after you knocked. You smiled sweetly at him and told him that you needed his help. Ten minutes later, the security footage showed absolutely nothing useful. The shipment was there one minute, gone the next.

You stared at the footage and panic clawed up your throat. No, no, you won’t panic. Clearly, your saboteur was at it again. Stealing a shipment was a little mundane. Especially after the mind control trick. But it was still gone and it was supposed to get you through the week. No ale meant angry customers. Angry customers meant word of mouth would spread. Bad press meant people would stop coming. And if people stopped coming, the club would be deserted. And if the club were deserted, there would be no reason to keep your job. 

You took one deep breath in, allowed the panic its moment, and then breathed it all out. There’s a reason for this. The saboteur was fucking with you all, but so far it had been harmless. Okay, Angel going through the floor wasn’t harmless and if those meatheads had been successful, they’d have taken your head off. But you were able to handle it all. You were fine. Absolutely fine. 

The guard cast furtive glances your way. You probably looked silly standing there, staring at the paused video. You thanked him and headed out. So far, you haven't run into Loki. But he was out visiting his brother. If you could just solve this quickly, there would be no reason to worry him. 

Okay, honesty time. You wanted to be competent. You wanted to be indispensable to him. You wanted him to know that he could leave for the day and he could trust you to run the club. You didn’t know why his approval meant so much to you. And you didn’t want to analyze it. 

You searched. You searched everywhere you could think of that a psychopath would hide ale. You searched top to bottom, front to back, but it was gone. Poof. Justin had recruited the other kitchen staff to search around discreetly. The last thing you needed was Honey or Sweetie coming by. They were your biggest gossip. You didn’t need this news reaching Loki. Oh hell, these people had you fearing Loki’s wrath as well. 

You went out the back of the club for the hundredth time. Your eyes burned as you adjusted to the brightness of the outside. In a few hours, people would start arriving. Some of them would order ale and what were you going to tell them? Sorry, none tonight. Try back tomorrow! 

You rubbed your neck as you stared at the loading bay. The cameras covered everything. Every angle. And the footage showed that the shipment was there one minute, gone the next. You didn’t know what you would find. You had already searched this area. 

Tears pricked your eyes. This was so pathetic. How hard was it to find one shipment? You massaged your forehead, willing the tears to go away. Before they had a chance to drop, you swiped them away. You will not break down in front of these people. 

The bay was empty. Sunlight beamed down, warming your dark skin. Birds flew overhead and in the distance, there was the cityscape. On the other side of the club, there was the ocean. A faint salty sea breeze blew by every now and then. You were alone. And it was okay to cry.

You faced away from any cameras and allowed a few drops of tears to stream down your face. You didn’t cry often. Certainly not in public. Your mom always told you to never let people see you break down. In the house, you could slump over, fall out, or pass out all you wanted to. But outside, you were to square your shoulders and never give anyone a reason to look at you sideways.

Your heart cracked in two. You missed that stubborn old lady so much, sometimes you couldn’t breathe. She was always snapping at you about something. But you knew it was out of love. And you knew that your dad would come right behind her, kiss her, and tell her to loosen up. You missed your grandparents. Your family was always close. 

You missed your cousins. You missed shopping with them or traveling from tavern to tavern drinking more than everyone. You missed being free. You missed Asgard. Gods you missed Asgard. 

Tears fell in fat drops from your eyes, down your cheeks, and dripping onto your outfit. You had taken to wearing more skirts. You chuckled as you stood there. As if the skirts were the barrier to Loki fucking you. 

Your mind was a mess. It was a beautiful day outside and you were standing there in all black, crying. It was like you were attending a funeral of one. Your own funeral. 

You sniffled. Snot leaked out of your nose. You were not an attractive crier. The pressure in your chest eased as you finally allowed yourself this moment of weakness. You knew you needed this. But this should have been done at home. 

You conjured a tissue and started to wipe your eyes and blow your nose. 

“Darling?” 

You gasped and turned to see Loki standing near the back entrance. How scowled as he looked at you. Oh gods. You turned from him and frantically wiped your face. He did not need to see you like this.

“One second!” You said. Your voice warbled and you coughed a few times to cover it up. The more you wiped your nose, the more snot seemed to shoot out. You sniffled, but really it needed to be blown out. And there was no way to blow your nose and hide that you had been crying. 

“What’s happened?” He was right beside you. You jumped with a little shriek and moved away from him, keeping him at your back. It was the worst thing to do as a fighter. Never turn your back on someone. Friend or foe. But you’d live with a knife in the back if it meant that Loki didn’t see you fall apart. 

Loki grabbed you by the shoulders and flipped you around. Still, you looked everywhere but at him. He didn’t need to see this. It was so embarrassing. 

Loki held your face in his hands and forced your eyes to meet his. You blinked up into his crystal blue eyes. Your tears still fell, over his long fingers and down the sides of his hands and onto your cheeks. 

“What happened?” His voice was soft. Too soft. He didn’t do soft. There was nothing soft about Loki. You hated it.

“Nothing. I stubbed my toe,” you said. You tried to jerk from his grasp but his grip was iron tight. He wouldn’t let you budge. 

“We don’t lie to each other,” he said. 

“Yeah? How was your visit with Thor?” You asked. 

Loki reared back and his lips thinned into a near perfect line. “He’s fine.” His voice was clipped. Almost angry. 

“We don’t lie to each other,” you said. 

“We’re not discussing Thor. We’re talking about you. Who made you cry?” 

A bubble of laughter welled up but you held it back. There was nothing funny about your boss finding you crying like a little girl who lost her puppy. You looked skyward, willing the tears away. 

“I’m handling it,” you said. 

Fury. Loki’s eyes darkened to the color of the sky before a storm. He gripped your arm and pulled you off to the side, where there were a few desks. No one really worked out in the bay, but it was easier to keep a desk there for signing for packages and the like. There was a storage room to the side, locked, for keeping the non-perishable overstock. You liked to be prepared, oh well. 

Loki pushed you down onto the desk, bent over and your ass in the air. You tried to stand but he kept a firm hand on your lower back. 

“Every time you lie or don’t tell me what I want to hear, I’ll spank you,” he said.

“What?” You tried to stand up again, but you heard the smack before you felt it. In the position that you were in, your skirt didn’t stand a chance. You wore panties, but you were still exposed to him. The sting vibrated and radiated. You were too stunned to do anything but stand there and feel it. 

“Why were you crying?” He asked.

“I told you, I’m handling–” You knew the smack was coming and yet you were still surprised by it. You rocked from foot to foot trying to get away. Loki kicked your legs until he spread them. Your pussy clenched around nothing. You were at his mercy and he was spanking you. And you were so turned on, you almost begged him to take you right then and there. 

This was it. This was how you finally went insane and buckled under all the pressure you were under. 

“Why were you crying, Darling?” He asked. 

You licked your lips. You could tell him what was going on with the shipment. But it was too close to feeling like a failure. You haven't failed yet. The shipment was temporarily housed somewhere else. 

His next smack was harder, causing you to buck against the desk. The edge dug into your belly but it was nothing in comparison to the heat and pain spreading around your ass cheeks. 

“I didn’t say anything!” You yelled.

“I’m aware,” he said. 

“I’m allowed to cry, you know!” You said. 

Smack. You cried out. But it was also so fucked up and erotic that you found yourself arching your back and silently asking for more. You flopped your forehead onto the desk. It was cool to the touch and helped stamp out the heat rushing over you. 

Loki touched your ass and you jerked. You had expected another smack. This was worse. The heat of his palm made the stinging bloom. It made fresh arousal leak out of you and soaked your panties.

“I won’t ask again, Darling.” His voice had gone low, deep, and furious. You wished you could see his face. 

“There was a tiny problem with a shipment today. That’s all,” you told him. You expected a smack, tensed for it, but he continued to lightly rub your booty. You slowly relaxed as it was clear he wasn’t going to hit you. More’s the pity. 

“What kind of problem?” He asked.

You took a deep breath. Every word was painful. You’d rather stick a hot poker against your skin than admit you couldn’t do something. But you wanted his hands on you so you played along.

“I signed for our shipment of ale. I put the receipt in my office and left the kitchen staff to stock it. It’s missing,” you said. You sounded robotic, even to your own ears. 

“What do you mean, missing?” He asked. His hands had stilled and you wiggled, trying to get him to move.

You told him everything, in as little detail as possible. You kept your emotions out of it. It was no big deal. A huge shipment had gone missing and you would find it. It was your specialty. Only, it wasn’t. Hand you a knife, you knew what to do with it. Corralling a bunch of employees was a walk in the park. But how did someone fight an unknowable enemy? You couldn’t see the saboteur. They walked around as if they were invisible. They slipped in and out of the club at whim. 

You might as well try to fight a ghost. It’d probably be easier to capture and kill. A hard smack to your ass brought you out of your thoughts. “I told you what happened! What was that for?!” 

“Why were you crying about a shipment of ale?” He asked. 

You bit your cheek and refused to speak. He didn’t get to have everything. “How is it fair that I can’t have secrets, but you can? You demand that I spill my guts every time we speak. Yet I, merely gum beneath your boot, isn’t fit to know anything about you?” 

Loki smacked your ass three times. Hard. You cried after each smack. Yet your ass rose to meet his hand each time. 

“Do you not see all of my secrets? Have I not made it clear that you are what consumes me? I have no hobby, save for you. I have no dreams, save to see you smile. I yearn to hear every word from your lips, every sigh from your mouth, and see every scathing look you give me.” 

His words shredded you down to your bones. You hated that you couldn’t see his face. You couldn’t read him. You could only go off of your instinct. And it was telling you that he meant every word he said. 

He moved your panties to the side and slipped a finger inside of you. You moaned. You were dripping wet and he slid in easily. He sighed. He started to pump his fingers into you. 

“You are mine, Darling. I want your every syllable. Every utterance. I want your anger. Your curses. Your laughs. Your pleasure. All of it. Why were you crying?” 

You moaned as he added a second finger, stretching you. Your legs shook. Your hands were splayed on the desk. The fake wood under your hand was all you had to anchor yourself. Your breath was shaky and ended on a tiny whine. 

“I’m overwhelmed,” you admitted. Loki hummed and continued to fuck you with his fingers. 

“I’m so fucking tired all the time. There is always a fire to put out around here. But that’s okay, I’m good at that. I thrive at that. That’s just what I do. But when I go home…the house here is nothing like Asgard. That house is frigid and desolate. I hate climbing the stairs knowing that my family is gone and I don’t know what happened to them. Thanos could have snapped them away. They could be on another planet. They could be here. I just don’t know. And I can’t help my siblings. My sister won’t come out of her room, she’s so depressed. And my brother is so angry all the time. I don’t know what to do anymore,” you choked on your words even as you ground your hips on his fingers. 

You were weary. Bone-deep, weary. And there was a part of you that just wanted to lay down and not get back up. You were tired of saving everyone and no one came to save you. There. You said it. You wanted someone to save you. You wanted someone to swoop in, save the day, and give you a break for once. 

But you also knew that you wouldn’t trust it. As soon as you relied on someone, they would disappear. Leaving you to pick up the pieces. 

“You don’t have to be alone, Darling. I’m right here,” he said softly. He leaned down and kissed both of your ass cheeks. It still stung from his spanking and you hissed as his cool lips touched them. “We’re stronger together. You know it. I know it.” 

You were so fucking close, you could taste it. You trembled at his words and with how gentle he was being. In all the years that you’d known him, gentle was not in his vocabulary. But here he was. Not shaming you for your weakness, but offering to help. 

He straightened up and removed his fingers. You heard him moan as he presumably sucked on his fingers. 

“Hey!” You moved to stand up but he gave another hard smack to your ass. If you thought the previous ones were tough, this one robbed you of all breath. He stepped away, finally letting you straighten up. 

He crowded your space, grabbed your face and kissed you. It was consuming and overwhelming. You leaned in for more but he pulled away and kissed your forehead. 

“We will find the traitor in our midst. But it must be together. Don’t hide from me,” he said. 

You looked at him. Really looked into his mesmerizing eyes. There was a swirl of emotions you couldn’t even try to puzzle out. He was still unknowable to you. And you feared that there was always going to be a part of him you couldn’t touch. A hidden depth that seemed to recognize a kindred spirit in yourself. But your pain was not his. He carried his pain in the set of his jaw, the amused smirk he wore like a mask, and his bright eyes that saw more than anyone in existence. Except for maybe Heimdall. 

“It’s not in my nature to open up. But I’ll try,” you said.

He kissed you again. Reverently, softly, like the rainbow kissing the sky after it rained. 

“I will have more than that, but that will suffice for now.” He smirked at you.

“Well? You can’t just leave me like this,” you said. You weren’t going to attempt to sit. Just hovering your ass close to the desk made you want to cry. In fact, your skirt was too sensitive right now. The mesh frills rubbed against your butt and you fought tensing up and hissing. 

It paled next to your desperate need to cum. It was just out of reach. If he kept going, you were sure it wouldn’t take you any time at all. 

Loki smirked. “Consider it your punishment. If spanking only turns you on, then you’ll get no relief from me right now,” he said. 

“You’re insane,” you huffed. 

“I’ll teach you this lesson a thousand times, my Darling,” he said and nuzzled your cheek, your jaw, and your neck. He licked your neck, right over your pulse point. You whined as a tingle shot through you. 

“I’ll do whatever I see fit with you. Now come along. We have a shipment to find and a traitor to punish.” 

He withdrew from you and started walking backwards towards the door. You gaped at him. He couldn’t be fucking serious. He grinned as he turned and walked into the club. You contemplated all the ways you could kill him and hide the body as you followed him inside.

Masterlist | Chapter 5 | Chapter 7

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Loki Files #Loki x Black!reader #Loki x Black reader #Loki x Fem!reader #Loki x Fem reader #Loki x reader #Loki x you #Loki imagine #Loki smut #Marvel smut #Loki fanfic #Loki fan fic #Loki fanfiction #Loki fan fiction #fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic