#and I’m not kidding there’s a lot of word dumping in this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fluentmoviequoter · 4 months

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We're Getting Married Now?

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!LAPD!reader

Summary: When Tim finds out you need a fake boyfriend to take to your cousin's wedding, he steps up and offers to go with you. After a night in his arms, you learn that his "boyfriend act" isn't just an act.

Warnings: I referenced a few lines from The Rookie (no spoilers though), a few vague mentions of insecurities and rude family members (they apologize). lots and lots of fluff!! one bed trope?

Word Count: 4.3k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

When your phone rings on the way to work, you don’t expect to see your aunt’s name on the caller ID.

“Hello?” you greet.

“Hey, sweetheart. I was going through the seating chart for your cousin’s wedding and seemed to have misplaced your RSVP,” she explains.

“I, uh, I didn’t get an invite. She’s getting married?”

“Of course. You lot aren’t getting any younger, as I’m sure you know, and when she met her fiancé, well, I think we all knew. Anyway, you say you didn’t get an invite? Must’ve gotten lost in the mail, those incompetent kids aren’t as reliable as they used to be. I suppose that explains your lack of congratulations, though, which I’m sure everyone will be relieved to hear.”

“I bet,” you mumble before asking, “So what do you need from me? Sorry to interrupt, but I’m nearly to work.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, I suppose the wedding planning is making me a touch scatter brained. All I need from you is a confirmation that you are attending. It’s at her fiancé’s family orchard, I’ll send you the address. Everyone is coming out Friday evening and the wedding is Sunday afternoon.”

“Uh, yeah, I have this weekend off. I may be a bit later on Friday, but I’ll be there.”

“And I’ll assume you’re still single, so no plus one. Although, sweetie, you really shouldn’t let this discourage you. I’m sure you have plenty going for you and the right man is out there somewhere,” she says, lowering her voice as pity laces every word.

“Actually, I’ll be bringing my boyfriend. If there’s room for one more, of course.”

The words come out before you can stop them, and after you slam your gear shift up and set your brake, you grip your steering wheel with both hands.

“Boyfriend? Well, good for you, sweetheart, I didn’t want to seem insensitive before, but your clock is ticking! I will put you down for two then. Oh, one more thing-“

“I’m actually at work and can’t be late. I’ll see you Friday,” you rush out before ending the call.

Hitting the back of your head against the headrest, you wonder who you can ask on such short notice. Getting a fake boyfriend is entirely avoidable, of course. You’d have to tell another lie about him being sick or dumping you or call your aunt and explain that her constant jabs at your lacking love life pushed you to speak without thinking.

“That would go well,” you murmur as you gather the strength to get out of your car.

She’d probably say something like, “Well then he just wasn’t the one,” before telling everyone that you did something to get dumped, or she’d remind you that you’re running out of time, it’s practically too late, so you should stop trying. You don’t mind being single, but she rips you apart, finding a way to make it your fault for being too busy with work, unwilling to compromise, or “looking too chubby in red.” (Her words.)

As you walk into the station and change into your uniform, you are struck with the perfect idea.

“Nolan!” you call, rushing to his side before he can enter roll call. “I need a favor.”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll do what I can,” he answers kindly.

“Long story short I need a fake boyfriend to go to my cousin’s wedding or my aunt will expose me as a dirty rotten liar who can’t get a boyfriend.”

“Wow,” Nolan responds. “Does she really- never mind. When’s the wedding?”

“This weekend.”

“Bailey and I are going to San Diego to meet Henry for a few days. I’m so sorry, I’d help you if I could.”

“Yeah, no problem. Thanks anyway,” you tell Nolan while looking for someone else you can ask. “Aaron!”

Aaron turns in the doorway, stepping back toward you and Nolan with raised brows.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“I need a date, a fake boyfriend for a wedding this weekend.”

“I don’t do weddings.”

“Aaron, please,” you plead.

“Look, I’d love to help you, but my family’s got a big dinner thing this weekend and they rarely end well, so I’m booked.” He pats your arm and adds, “Hope you find someone who can help.”

You nod as he walks inside. Looking around the station, you realize your options are very limited.

“Think Angela would let me borrow Wesley for a few days?” you ask Nolan.

“Why don’t you just find someone to actually take as a date?”

“Because that’s the entire problem, Nolan. I can’t get a date.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

As you follow him into roll call, you whisper, “I’m going to have to ask Smitty.”

Nolan stifles a laugh, shaking his head as he takes his seat. You tune Wade out after receiving your assignment for the day, glancing around the room as you try to find someone else you can ask. Maybe you should just cancel, tell your aunt that you’re the one who got sick, and now neither you nor your boyfriend can make it.

Standing in the bullpen, you have your aunt’s contact pulled up on your phone but can’t seem to press the call button.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Sergeant Bradford,” Nolan says. “I need some advice.”

“I already don’t like this, but go ahead,” Tim replies, resting his hands against his belt.

“If a fellow officer, a close friend, was going to cancel going to a family member’s wedding because she couldn’t find a fake boyfriend to keep her controlling aunt off her back, would you help her?”

Tim doesn’t answer, turning away from Nolan. As he walks toward the bullpen, Nolan raises a fist in victory, hoping it works out for you and Tim. It’s clear to everyone that you have feelings for each other, but neither of you seems eager to do anything about them. Maybe this is the push you need to take the next step.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim’s hand covers your phone screen before he takes it from you, holding it by his side.

“You need a fake boyfriend?” he asks.

“Who told you? ... Nolan, I should’ve known not to trust him and his big mouth.”

“Who’s getting married?”

“My cousin,” you answer, pursing your lips in confusion about why he’s interested.

“The cousin from the aunt that manipulates and belittles you every time you see her?”

“I’m still sorry for calling you that day, I shouldn’t have. Just didn’t have anyone else to cry to.”

“She lied to you, told you things about yourself that couldn’t have been further from the truth. So, now that you have lied to her, what are you going to do about it?”

“Cancel,” you whisper. “If I can just press the button to call her.”

“I’ll call her,” Tim offers, raising your phone. “Or I can go with you.”

“Tim, I can’t ask you to do this- to lie for me and spend your weekend off at a wedding, around people you don’t know.”

“You’re not asking,” Tim reminds you. “Which one? I make a call, or I go with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” Tim smiles while assuring, “We’re friends, and we’ve been on vacation together before. This is just like that.”

“I don’t want to go…”

“But you don’t want to deal with the grief you’ll get if you don’t. I get it, but I’ll help in any way I can.”

You nod, taking your phone from Tim. “Thank you.”

“When do we leave?”

“Friday night. The wedding’s Sunday.”

“Two days before? Why?”

“I don’t even want to think about that right now.”

Tim raises your right hand, pushing a bent paper clip over your finger as he promises, “I will make sure you survive this weekend.”

“And I… will apologize in advance.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you get out of the shower Friday night and get dressed, all you can think about is the weekend ahead. If you or Tim get uncomfortable, you could put your relationship on the line to look like a happy couple in front of your family.

Tim’s knock draws you from your thoughts, and when he takes your bag from you, you realize something: Tim already acts like your boyfriend, so he really is boyfriend material. Your crush on him is bound to be affected over the next 48 hours, but he agreed to this, so maybe there’s a chance he feels more than friendship, too. Shaking the idea from your head, you accept Tim’s help as you climb into the passenger seat of his truck. He waits until he’s on the freeway to ask you about the wedding and your family.

“What’s the fiancé like?” he asks.

“I haven’t met him. Didn’t even know they were getting married until a few days ago.”

Tim nods, laying his elbow on the center console and moving closer to you without thinking.

“I- I want to go ahead and tell you that you don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. My family can be a lot-“

“I’m not here for them. I’m spending the weekend with you, and nothing more. Remember that, okay? So, if you need an excuse, a buffer, anything you want or need, that’s me this weekend.”

“I can never repay you for this.”

“I’ll give you a call next time I need a wedding date,” Tim suggests.

“Deal,” you reply with an easy smile.

✯✯✯✯✯

Someone squeals your name, and Tim grips your hand when you flinch.

“I’m so glad you made it!” the woman says, pulling you into a hug.

“Of course. And congratulations!” you reply. “Sorry about the invitation confusion.”

“Oh, no worries, I get it. Stuff happens. My mom said you were bringing your boyfriend?”

Tim steps forward, wrapping an arm around your waist as he offers his other hand. “I’m Tim, the boyfriend your mom mentioned.”

“Oh,” your cousin says, shaking his hand. She looks between you and Tim, and as you begin to expect a sarcastic comment, she says, “Nice to meet you, Tim.”

“That wasn’t so bad,” Tim whispers in your ear.

“I guess I could’ve been overthinking it,” you admit.

“You’re in chateau Sauvignon Blanc,” a man says, passing a key to Tim. “Follow the white path and you won’t miss it.”

“The chateaus are named after wine,” Tim muses. “Must be nice to be marrying into a family of nepotism.”

You laugh at him, and when he refuses to let you carry your bag to the chateau, you fall into easy conversation on the short walk. Entering, however, you stop in the doorway.

“What’s wrong?” Tim asks quickly, stepping forward so his chest presses against your back.

“Nothing, just- there’s only one bed in here,” you say quietly.

“I think we can make it work. There’s always the floor if you want to treat your fake boyfriend like that,” Tim jokes, closing the door and tossing your bags on a nearby chair.

“I- why’d you agree to come?” you ask him.

“You needed a date.”

You don’t quite accept that. It’s not enough reason for someone as logical as Tim Bradford. You don’t have time to question him further, though, as you receive a text that dinner is being served in the main tasting room in just a few minutes.

“Hey,” Tim says, laying his hands on your shoulders. “We’re two people on vacation together. It doesn’t have to be awkward.”

“Sorry. It’s just, this isn’t what I was expecting.”

“That’s okay, but we’re going to keep moving. No one knows me here, so I’m whatever-“

“I need you to be,” you repeat. “Thank you.”

Tim smiles, and you take your bag into the bathroom to get ready while he changes. When you exit, wearing your favorite outfit and hairstyle, Tim stands, offering both his hands.

“You look stunning.”

“Clean up pretty nicely yourself, Mr. Bradford.”

“Oh, so you’re a flirty girlfriend?”

You roll your eyes, attempting to pull away from Tim. He tightens his hands around yours and pulls you into a hug, hooking one arm around you as he leads you back to the white path.

✯✯✯✯✯

Sitting beside Tim, your hand stays in his until the food is served. So far, all of the attention has been on your cousin and her fiancé, and you’re more than happy to listen along to their chatter rather than talk yourself.

“What about you two?” your grandfather asks. “How’d you meet?”

Tim moves his hand out of yours, patting above your knee as he answers, “We met at work; different divisions, but we joined forces for a narcotics bust and I just couldn’t get her off my mind, so I had to ask her out.”

“How long have you been together?” someone inquires.

“5 years,” you and Tim say together. You add, “But we’ve only been serious for what? 6 months or so?”

“Since you finally agreed to my begging, you mean?” Tim asks, sending you a comforting smile. “Yeah, about that.”

“Cute,” your cousin comments before the conversation returns to her.

You close your eyes and release a breath, leaning toward Tim when his hand covers yours again.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How are we doing this?” You ask, standing at the side of the bed with your arms wrapped around your waist.

“It’s a bed,” Tim says, blinking at you. “Seems pretty straightforward.”

“Well, yeah, but… what if I, like, snore more or something?”

“I’ll live. Just get in the bed.”

You crawl under the covers, murmuring, “Thought you were gonna call me boot there for a second.”

“I still may,” Tim responds as he turns the light off, lying beside you. “Is this okay?”

“Yes. Thank you, Tim.”

“No problem.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you wake up, it’s a few minutes before dawn, and a strong arm is holding you against the mattress. When you try to move, Tim pulls you closer before tucking you against him as he relaxes again.

“Friends on vacation,” you remember, pressing your cheek against his chest as you get comfortable.

Suddenly, you remember you have to survive another night by his side. The idea makes you want to pull away, but his touch and heartbeat lull you back to sleep before you can.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Your cousin is here,” Tim whispers, shaking you gently. “She wants to talk to you about dresses.”

“You’re a snuggler,” you mumble as Tim pulls you out of bed.

“No one will ever believe you,” Tim says darkly.

“Is she really here?”

“I wouldn’t lie about that. This isn’t a horror movie.”

Nodding, you pick up a change of clothes and move into the bathroom. Tim’s voice is muffled through the wall, but you can tell he’s being civil even as his patience wears thin. Straightening your outfit, you open the door and smile at your cousin and Tim.

“You’re wearing that?” she asks.

“You’re beautiful,” Tim says, smiling at you.

“What exactly are we doing?” you ask.

“I wanted to see the dress you’re planning to wear to the rehearsal tonight and the wedding and reception tomorrow. If you need something different, we can-“

“I won’t need different dresses,” you interrupt. “I like the ones I brought.”

“As do I,” Tim adds. “But I’ll leave you two to talk about dresses.” He stands, kissing your temple and pausing by your side to whisper, “Call if you need someone to save you.”

Smiling, you tell him to be careful. Your cousin waits until he leaves to sit on the end of the bed, waiting for you to show the dresses you packed.

As you hold them up, you remember Tim's compliments this morning as you hide your smile at her surprised reaction. And his arm around you last night. He’s taking his fake boyfriend duties seriously, and you’re unsure if your feelings can survive another night beside him.

“They’re pretty,” your cousin says finally. “I have a few more things to do before the rehearsal this evening, but I’ll see you around.”

“Congratulations again,” you call, exiting the chateau behind her to look for Tim.

When you round a corner on the white path, you run directly into Tim. His arms come up to catch you, holding you against his chest as he raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“Did it go okay?” he asks, rubbing a hand down your spine.

“Yeah. She said the dresses were pretty, so that was unexpected.”

“Wait ‘til she sees them on you,” Tim replies. “Can’t imagine getting upstaged at my own wedding.”

“What do you want to do for the rest of the day? The rehearsal isn’t until 5 and then most of the wedding party is leaving for bachelor and bachelorette parties.”

“You could model the dresses.”

“Stop,” you plead, laughing as you press against Tim’s chest.

“It’s my duty as your boyfriend.”

“I knew I should have asked Smitty.”

Tim narrows his eyes, shaking his head. “Don’t make me think about that.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Where do you think the red path goes?” you ask.

“Are you asking me on a treasure hunt date?” Tim replies.

“Maybe. Care to follow our own version of the yellow brick road? See if you can find your usual personality on the way back to Kansas?”

“You don’t like my new personality? The one I created just for you?”

“Tim,” you warn. “Red path, yes or no?”

Tim takes your hand, leading you out of the chateau and back toward his truck before turning onto the other path.

“If we find a crime scene or something,” you begin.

“What?” Tim interrupts dramatically.

“If we find something unexpected, what then?”

“Wait,” Tim calls, gently pulling you back toward him. “What is this about?”

Glancing down, you say, “Last night.”

“Look, if I made you uncomfortable-“

“No, not at all. The, uh, the unexpected part was how much I liked it,” you admit quietly.

Tim taps his knuckle lightly against your chin, smiling as you raise your head to look at him.

“Just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I don’t want to ruin anything. We’re friends, and I care about you, but this weekend could ruin everything if I make one wrong move.”

“You said it yourself, we’re friends, and we’ve been friends for years. Walking on eggshells around me all weekend is unnecessary, not to mention more dangerous than just telling me you like being cuddled.”

“You like being cuddled.”

“Never say that aloud again.”

You chuckle, taking Tim’s hand as you begin walking again. After a few minutes of walking in silence, you stop.

“The red path looks exactly like the white path,” you point out.

“Not true. The red path is red, and the white is white.”

“Wow. You should have been a detective.”

“Are we on the same page?” Tim murmurs.

“Yeah, I’ll be myself with you this weekend. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Nerd.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, Dorothy.”

You roll your eyes, walking away from Tim. He laughs before taking a few long steps to catch up with you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Tim apologizes, and you lean against him, trying to remember what he said about being honest.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hi, sweetheart,” your aunt greets you as you enter the venue for the rehearsal dinner. “You are at table 2, and your boyfriend is at table 9.”

“You didn’t seat us together?” you ask.

“Well, it was late notice, learning you were bringing a plus one. Sorry.”

“Uh, okay. Thanks.”

Tim lays his hand on your lower back, leading you to your table.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, reaching over the table before leaving.

You watch him walk to his table, switching a nameplate before returning to your side. He sets his nameplate on the seat beside you, sighing as he sits.

“Have I told you recently that you’re the best?”

“You don’t have to, I know,” Tim answers smugly.

“What do you want to do when this is over?”

“Planning ahead, aren’t we?” Tim smiles as he leans toward you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Exiting the venue, you take Tim’s hand, wrapping your other hand around his forearm as you walk beside him. He tugs you closer, keeping you close until you’re back in your chateau. After changing quickly and washing your face, you collapse onto the bed.

“I thought my family was tiring,” Tim jokes.

“Still up for cud- lying closely on the same piece of furniture?” you correct.

Tim leans over you, smiling as he says, “Since you asked so nicely.”

You stare at the ceiling until Tim returns and pulls you into his side as he lays beside you. Rolling against him, pressing your ear to his chest so you can hear his heartbeat, you accept that things are changing.

“I don’t think we can go back to how things were before,” you mutter.

“Me neither,” Tim agrees softly, moving his hand to your upper back.

“Did I ruin everything by letting you come with me?”

Tim rolls onto his side, facing you rather than holding you.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow? Does everything get awkward after the wedding?”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Tim answers. “I offered to come because it was an opening to spend time with you.”

“But-“

“We’re friends, right? That’s what we say but that’s not how it feels.”

“How does it feel?” you whisper.

“Like more. Tell me you’ve been pretending, and I’ll let this go, but nothing I’ve said this weekend has been a lie or an act.”

“I have feelings for you,” you confess. “I have for years, but I didn’t know how to tell you or what you’d think. So…”

“We both did. Stay quiet to preserve a friendship that could have been much more.”

Inhaling deeply, you move forward, closing the distance between you and Tim.

“You asked what happens after the wedding,” Tim says. “I’d like to keep going from here.”

“I’d like that too.”

Tim smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist as he rolls over, pulling you with him. You laugh against him, falling silent when you look into his eyes.

“Can I-“ Tim begins.

“Kiss me,” you demand.

Tim cups your cheeks as he pulls you down against him, kissing you softly. You slide your arms over his chest, holding his jaw as you reciprocate his every move. Tim’s arm tightens around your waist before someone knocks on the door.

Pulling away, you sigh before getting out of bed, cracking the door open to see who it is.

“Hi,” you greet, surprised to see your aunt outside.

“I moved your seats for the wedding and reception,” she tells you. “Since you seem inseparable.”

“Thank you.”

“Sorry for earlier, and for interrupting. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

After you close the door, you press your hand against it and take a few breaths, surprised by her apologies.

“Are you okay?” Tim asks, sitting up as he watches you.

Walking back to his side, you lie down and move against him, smiling as you answer, “I’m great.”

Tim holds you close, both of you falling asleep on the same side of the oversized bed. When you wake up the following morning, you chuckle at the sight of it, with one side still made after a night in Tim’s arms.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’ve been in there for a while,” Tim calls, tapping his knuckles against the bathroom door.

“Maybe she was right,” you answer. “I mean, the dress looked great on the mannequin, but…”

“Open the door,” Tim demands.

“No.”

“I will kick it down. You know I can.”

You pull the door open before he can do anything, and Tim’s eyes widen when he sees you.

“You look…”

“I know.”

“Perfect.”

Furrowing your brows, you look down at the dress.

“How do you feel?” Tim asks. “In the outfit, in general?”

“I feel good, really good.”

“Well, you look even better. Don’t let whatever someone said make you think otherwise. And I was right.”

“About?”

“You’re gonna look better than the bride.”

Tim’s smile, accompanied by his kind words, makes you smile, wrapping your arms around his waist as you hug him tightly. Your relationship with him has changed this weekend, and you’re still giddy because you can tell him you love him whenever you want.

“I love you,” you say against his suit.

Tim pulls back quickly, looking into your eyes as he asks you to repeat it. After you do, he smiles and replies, “I love you. I’ve loved you for years.”

“We’re going to be late,” you remind him, narrowly dodging a kiss.

Shaking his head, Tim offers his arm, keeping you close as you walk to the wedding venue entrance. Finding your seats, you sit beside Tim, pulling one of his hands into your lap as you look at him.

“Those bouquets are really bright,” you say.

“Our wedding will be much better,” Tim agrees.

“We’re getting married now?” you ask, smiling.

Tim looks at you from the corner of his eye, shrugging as he says, “Why not?”

“I love you, Tim Bradford.”

“Thank you for letting me be your boyfriend this weekend,” he replies. “I love you.”

“Oh, you’re going to be my boyfriend for a lot longer than this weekend.”

“And after that?” Tim asks, interlacing his fingers with yours.

“That part is up to you, I think.”

You stand, keeping your hand in Tim’s as the wedding procession begins.

“Then, yes, we’re getting married,” Tim whispers. “But it will be perfect.”

Keeping your attention on one another throughout the ceremony, you fall in love with Tim again. After the bride and groom walk down the aisle together, you pull the paper clip ring from your dress pocket. Tim stands, and when he turns to you, you raise it.

“Tim Bradford, will you be my boyfriend?”

Tim chuckles, pulling you up to kiss you before you slide the ring onto his finger. He had nearly forgotten about giving it to you before leaving the station but seeing it on his finger makes him even more eager to marry you someday.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x you #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #the rookie abc #requests #fem!reader

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hysteria-things · 4 months

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SNEAK AWAY (part two)

read part one here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: nate x sls!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and nate are still going strong, but a lot of fans notice a few things in the new video…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 539

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: short and sweet!

chris fic tomorrow😌 (or tonight it depends when i start writing it)

y/nsturniolo

liked by madifilipowicz and 23,492 others

y/nsturniolo hawaii dump with my favorite people ever😌🌺☀️🏝️🩷

4,940 comments

nicolassturniolo yup yup yup

user you’re so pretty

↳ y/nsturniolo i love you🥹

↳ user HOLY SHIT HI QUEEN

nathandoe8 hey (with rizz)

↳ matthew.sturniolo what the hell

↳ user YIKES LMAOOO

↳ user praying for you nate🙏

madifilipowicz 🎉💕🌊

user what’s with all the nate pics🤨

↳ y/nsturniolo idk :/

user why do i ship her and nate🫣

↳ user THIS

↳ christophersturniolo no lol

“boys, please leave your sister alone.“ you hear your mother scold from outside of the bedroom door.

you guys got back from hawaii two days ago, but the triplets are staying in boston for an extra week before going back to LA.

“do not barge in there—” she scolds again, but it’s too late when the door swings open.

the three of them stand there panting, while marylou looks at them with her hands on her hips. it doesn’t end there; trevor comes running in and jumps on your bed.

his tail wags as he climbs onto your lap, leaving kisses on your face.

nick turns to her. “she’ll survive, mom.”

she sighs, walking out of your vision. your brothers stare at you like you’re in trouble. “we need to talk.” chris says, crossing his arms.

oh boy.

“about?”

they side eye each other. “you and nate.” matt says.

oh boy.

you clear your throat, trying not to barf everywhere. “w-what do you mean?”

“have you not seen the clips or comments?” chris asks, them now walking over to your bed and sitting. at this point, trevor has fallen asleep on your legs.

“no,” you answer, playing with the dog’s ears.

“girl.” nick tuts, pulling out his phone and tapping buttons before turning it to you. “look at this.”

you take his phone, scrolling through the comments on a tiktok.

thank GOD i’m not the only one who thought this

they HAVE to be hiding something they seem a little too close in this video😭

damn y’all detectives or something💀

imagine this is how nick, matt, and chris find out LMAOOOO

i always shipped them they seem so cute together :(

you stop scrolling the comments and watch the video. it’s a compilation of you and nate in the background.

one of the clips is when you guys were in the restaurant, and your chin rests on nate’s shoulder as the both of you look over something on his phone.

another clip is when you guys are walking, you and nate in the back of the group with his hand brushing against yours.

a few others show the way you two look at each other, eyes full of love and lust.

maybe you guys weren’t being as slick as you thought.

you hand nick’s phone back, nuzzling more into your blanket. “why didn’t you tell us?!” chris exclaims.

you shrug. “‘cause you’ll kill him.”

they roll their eyes. “we won’t kill him. we’ll threaten him.” nick clarifies.

as if that’s any better.

walking hand in hand, you and nate make way through the local park that's bare at this hour of the night. “so you’re telling me i should look out for threats?”

“yeah.” you smile, looking up at him before he gives you a sneak-attack kiss.

he sighs. “i’m kind of glad we don’t need to sneak away anymore. it got so depressing.”

you laugh, followed by an exhale. words cannot explain how much you love this kid. even though it was a hard launch to the public, you’re happy that you can show him off now. to make sure people know he’s yours and you’re his.

hopefully, no threats or killings take place by your overprotective siblings.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @saturncanyon @elliesturniolo1

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pxrxcxa · 2 years

Text

Untouchable

✶ One shot

Pairing | Eddie x his best friends little sister

Post summary | You’ve been in love with Eddie since you can remember. When he refuses to see you as anything except for his best friends, untouchable, innocent, little sister, you work out a way to get him to look at you differently.

What to expect | Established friendship, mutual pining, jealous Eddie, lots of tension - no use of y/n

Post Warnings | Drug use, shotgunning, M oral, F masturbation, voyeurism, facial, public sex, rough sex

Word count | 5.3 K

Authors Note | I’d really like to do a part 2 | but let me know what y’all think about this one first ;)

Pt 2 | Pt 3 |

As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Love, P. x 🌿

I’d always seen Eddie. Considering he’d been joined at the hip with Trevor since middle school when he’d made fun of Eddie’s buzz cut. The two were inseparable, always up to no good. If you seen one you knew the other wasn’t far. Since Trevor and I shared DNA, Eddie was around just as much as I was, taking up a segment of our life and blending in seamlessly like he belonged there.

Ten years I’d catch the bus home with Eddie and my older brother, avoiding their teasing while they spread across the entire lounge room floor as they devoured the pantry of snacks and planned out their DnD campaigns. Ten years I’d been the butt of their cruel jokes. Ten years I’d been silently in love with Eddie.

And for ten years, Eddie had ignored me like I was invisible. Eddie had never seen me.

I glanced up from my book as a piece of popcorn bounced off my chest and landed on the open page, covering the rest of the line I was currently reading.

“Do you mind?” I snapped through gritted teeth, brushing my shirt as I glared up through my lashes.

“Not at all. Get us another drink.” My brother rolled over on his back as he grinned at me, holding a crumpled piece of paper above his face that contained a list of his new ideas for DnD characters.

Eddie’s singular laugh burst onto the scene, and I reluctantly glanced up at him, dropping my stare almost instantly as a deep blush filled my cheeks. He smirked at me as he popped another piece of popcorn into his mouth, watching me as I slammed the book shut and stood up from the couch.

“Get it your damn self.” I snapped, purposely treading on my brothers arm as I stepped over him.

Eddie’s stare, hard to ignore, followed me as I made my way to the kitchen. The water churned angrily inside of the glass as I flicked the sink tap on angrily and filled it to the brim. As I spun around the drink almost slipped through my fingers, Eddie was leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed tightly across his chest as his dark eyes appraised me.

“You good kid?” My heart sunk into my ass at his words.

Kid

“I’m fine.” My misplaced frustration seeped through my tone, Eddie’s brows raised slightly at my rudeness before Trevor burst through through door, shoving him out of the way and breaking our eye contact.

“Ignore her man, she’s been in a mood ever since she started dating that freshman.” My fingers tightened around the slippery glass as my eyes shot to Eddie’s face, my own colouring in embarrassment as his features turned guarded, hiding his reaction as he picked at his cuticles.

I snatched the bag of chips off the counter that my brother reached for, glaring daggers at him, interrupting Eddie as we spoke at the same time.

“Oh yeah?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

I cleared my throat as they both shared a look followed by loud, teasing bouts of laughter.

“He’s not, he’s just my partner on one of our assignments. And-“ I spoke louder as Trevor wagged his brows suggestively at me and Eddie covered his smirk with his hand.

“He’s actually pretty cool, I think you’d like him, he’s into DnD.” I let my bait hang in the air as I dumped the rest of the contents of my glass down the sink, letting it clack against the sides loudly.

I turned back slowly to watch Trevor let a low, appreciative whistle through his teeth, his mind ticking over my words as I watched Eddie closely. He was far too focused on a hangnail as his jaw clenched, sucking against his teeth.

“What d’ya think bro?” Trevor’s voice was pathetically whiny, pining for Eddie’s approval without shame.

Although his slightly annoyed face betrayed his words, Eddie shrugged, dropping his arms to cross his chest as he stared me down, running his gaze slowly over me as I shuddered, chancing a quick glance at my brother to see if he noticed.

“If she says the kids alright, we can give him a go. She has incredible taste after all.”

Eddie’s lips drew out the S in the third last word, making my thighs twitch behind my loose mini skirt as he smirked at my brother, who was blissfully unaware of my dangerous thoughts as he sneakily snatched the bag of snacks from my trembling fingers.

“If he’s anything like her, he’s super fucking innocent. And I know how you love to corrupt your innocent freshman with DnD.” My brothers half hearted wink didn’t even begin to convey the truth behind his words, their possible different meaning to Eddie had my head swimming dangerously, the sea of blackness lapping at my concentration.

“I don’t agree on a lot of things with you bro, but when it comes to that type of innocence… I can’t resist absolute corruption.” Eddie’s dark eyes fixated on me as his wide smile crinkled his eyes. I was greatful for the loud crunching as Trevor tipped the bag of food back against his mouth, tilting his head back as he shook the bag, because I was sure that actual steam was blowing out of my ears and a slight dripping was falling from between my thighs.

“Come on, let’s head out.” Trevor’s spat through an open mouth full of food as he tossed the packet into the bin and walked between us, cutting off my eyeline of Eddie as he smacked his chest and swiped up his car keys. I swallowed my disgust over my brothers general lack of hygiene as he disappeared around the corner, rolling my eyes as I turned my back on both of their vulgar insults over who was driving.

The warning tingle that shot up my spine, made me spin back around as I bumped back against the sink, watching Eddie lean away from the door frame to cross the tiled kitchen floor between us in three long strides.

His eyes flickered to the darkened hallway like he was making sure that my brother was still out of sight as he stood toe to toe with me, our embarrassing height difference towered over me as his face broke into a cocky half grin.

My breathing faltered as his hand raised towards me, gently brushing against my thin sweater in the space between my breast and my collar bone. My heart squeezed painfully as his grin faded off into a small, knowing smile as I began to tremble.

“Popcorn.” His scoff contained a light airy laugh as he glanced above my head and brushed away the few crumbs that clung the static fabric of my shirt.

My chest throbbed in a painful release as Eddie stalked away, shrugging on his leather jacket as my knees struggled to keep me upright.

Asshole

I ran my tongue across my lips as I tried to keep my thoughts in check, squishing down the vain fantasy of hope that reared it’s ugly head, focusing on the ticking hands of the clock above the kitchen cabinets.

Eddie’s small touches meant nothing, his lingering stares only felt heavy and intrusive because I was imagining it. Eddie was only ever going to be an elderly brother figure to me and I needed to learn to accept that. Giving myself a reality check to save myself from further heart break.

I swallowed the rock that sat at the back of my throat as my vision came into focus again.

“Hey! Where are you going? Moms gonna be here with dinner soon.” I chased after the boys as they hesitated at the front door, staring back at me with frustration as I hindered their nightly pursuits.

“The hideout.” Trevor shook his head at me like I was stupid for even asking, widening his eyes sarcastically as he pulled the door wider.

Eddie stared at me with a blank expression, either trying very hard to control his reaction or just genuinely not having one as he rolled a loose ring across the tops of his knuckles.

“Ed’s here has a blonde hottie waiting for him.” My brother smacked his chest with his fist lightly, following up his hurtful statement with a string of obscene noises and hip movements.

I tried and failed to keep my face straight as my heart smashed into my stomach, twisting and splintering like broken glass as Eddie didn’t spare me another glance, following Trevor down the scarcely lit driveway.

His car tore off into the empty street as they sped away to whatever pleasures awaited them at the dingy bar, leaving me alone and heartbroken as I let the front door swing closed slowly.

“I think it’s a good idea.” I let the stream of smoke billow through my nose as I flicked the ash away from the tip of my joint, leaning back against the red brick of the gym, hidden by other nosy students and prying teachers alike.

Sean, the infamous genius freshman that was taking senior classes, liked playing DnD and was my alleged boyfriend, watched me from his place beside me, his beady eyes following my every movement as he tried to mimic my stance.

I held out the joint in an offering, raising my eye brows as he hesitated and then shook his head, glancing up at me from the few inch height difference between us.

“I’ve got a test, probably be better if I was sober.” His dorky face screwed up and I turned away to hide my laughter, watching the sophomore gym class run their tenth, hellish lap around the field.

I nodded without looking as he muttered a goodbye, taking a deep drag as my eyes squinted shut. The air rushed through my teeth as a heavy ‘umph’ resounded through the air as his sharp cry echoed around us.

Sean was scrawled across the concrete, fresh tears springing to his eyes from the raw scrape marks across his palms and knees. Eddie stepped from around the corner and roughly hauled him to his feet, practically beating him into the ground as he wiped grey clouds of dirt from his shoulders.

“Better be more careful there kid.” Eddie clicked his teeth as my arm dropped, nerves fluttering in my stomach as I hid the joint against my side.

It was no use, the smell had probably drawn him out in the first place.

My eyes flickered between the vastly different boys, Eddie’s dark and hulking form, with a mean smirk plastered across his face, towered over Seans’ quivering one. A shock ran through me as I watched the unmistakable signs of fear flash across the younger man’s face, he nodded and tried not to let Eddie’s strength make his knees buckle as he continued to swipe at Sean’s arms, angrily brushing away dirt that was no longer there.

He shot me a frightened look as I couldn’t help the slight amusement spread across my face, my inhibitions locked away from the spike of weed I’d inhaled, I successfully bit back my laugh as I realised he was afraid of Eddie. Sometimes it was hard to remember what the rest of the world saw him as, because Eddie had my knees shaking and my face blushing for entirely different reasons.

Sensing no help from me, Sean tried to side step around Eddie as his eyes fell to his Hellfire shirt under his leather jacket, trembling like a mouse as Eddie blocked him.

“Not so fast, kid. Who are you?” Eddie’s menacing smile slowly dropped from his face as he cocked his head, loosing patience as Sean stuttered over his own name.

I scoffed and pushed off from the wall, turning to face him with my own smug smirk as I shook my head at Eddie’s antics.

“This is the one I told you and Trevor about. This is Sean.” His eyes squeezed shut like he was upset about me naming him, like he’d hoped he could remain unnoticed as long as he stayed silent.

Eddie had ignored me thus far, but his dark stare slid past Sean’s to meet mine over his head, something flashing in his eyes as they softened and his jaw hardened.

“Right.” He stood to the side and clapped his shoulder, making him half bow over as his face screwed up in pain. “Well, maybe I’ll see you at our club sometime, I’ll take good care of ya.” Eddie winked and slapped him on the back again, half propelling him down the footpath and almost out of my sight.

The brittle tension disappeared along with Sean as Eddie turned back to me, pulling a cigarette from his jacket pocket, placing it between his teeth as he flicked his lighter and shook his head at me over the billowing smoke.

I grinned freely as I purposely took a long hit of my dwindling joint, staring back at him boldly as I blew the cloud of haze in his direction.

We puffed in a silence for a moment before I took too deep of a hit and coughed hard, my chest spluttering as my eyes watered.

He clicked tongue as he pursed his lips, barking a sharp snap of laughter as I waved the smoke away that burst through my lungs.

“Exactly why you shouldn’t smoke.” He grinned through his hypocrisy.

“Oh please, don’t act like you’re not the one who taught me this.” I held it out between us accusingly, relishing in the easy smiles shared between us. My heart clenched unexpectedly as I wished for it to always be this easy, that our friendship didn’t have to be blackened by my unrequited feelings, obsession was probably a better word.

His own face turned serious as we both lost our grins, exhaling through his teeth as a deep sigh rushed from his chest. His eyes, practically black in the shadows, had me cowering against the wall as he glared at me.

“You should stay away from him.” His words were a fire hot, ice pick through my skin as I tried to read their meaning in his face. He kept his usual half snarky half empty mask in place, I took a distracted drag for something to do other than get lost in my thoughts of looking at him.

“Sean? He’s harmless.” I peered back at Eddie questioningly, blushing as he scoffed and sent me a derivative scowl.

“He’s a guy.”

“And?”

“And I know what guys want.” He flicked the butt of his smoke away as he spun around to face me, burying his hands in his pockets as he waited for me to catch onto his meaning.

I wasn’t sure what made me say it, or how I possibly got the words out without caving like the embarrassed coward I was.

“What do you want?”

Eddie’s face flashed with something new, he only hesitated for a minute as his eyes dropped to something beside me and he stalked across the space between us. I backed off quickly, bumping against the rough brick as he pinned me against it.

I trembled as Eddie hand snaked around my throat, his thumb pressing into my jaw so that my head was tilted back and I couldn’t avoid his dark eyes that trapped mine. I couldn’t help the gasp that slipped past my lips, Eddie’s eyes dropped to them, intrigued by the sound. My throat stuck as my thoughts ran wild, wanting to cry from the confusion and pleasure of feeling Eddie’s hand finally somehow wrapped around me.

My hands clenched around empty air as Eddie stole the joint from between my fingers, he brought it between us, turning his head to the side, but keeping his eyes on mine as he took a deep inhale. The paper burned all the way down to the roach in a blaze, ash dropping dangerously as he flicked it away and tensed his fingers around the nape of my neck.

His strong hand bowed me against him as his thumb moved up against my chin, pulling it down roughly as he forced my lips apart.

I shook like a leaf as Eddie moved his face towards mine, with slow movements like a predator. He angled his jaw to line up with me, leaving barely any space between our open mouths as he blew the smoke into mine. My eyes rolled back into my head as I caved, I could practically taste him, almost feel the softness of his lips as my knees buckled, Eddie’s tight grip became the only thing holding me up. His forehead leant forward to touch mine as he breathed the last swirl of the smoke into me, snapping his eyes shut as his jaw flexed.

“You’re Trevor’s sister.” It was a fact he grunted through clenched teeth.

“I am.” My hands traced up carefully to hold onto the arm he still had wrapped around my neck.

“Untouchable.” I didn’t agree.

“So fucking innocent.” Eddie’s practically spat the words as his eyes wrenched open in anger and he dropped his hold on me, slamming his fist down against the raw brick beside me as he spurned away, the outline of the Dio patch on his jacket growing smaller as he left me alone gasping against the side of the building.

Tears sprung to my eyes over his insult of being innocent, wanting to follow him and prove in every single way how wrong he was, hating him for even thinking it. But I was paralysed, sliding down the wall into a crouch, wondering what the fuck that was and if it actually just happened.

Stupid

That’s what this was, pure idiocy. I fumed with anger towards Eddie’s juvenile opinion of me, and hated Trevor even more for probably being the reason behind it.

I wanted to punish them both, get back at them in a way that would at least match, if not top, the anguish and hurt I was feeling.

Trashing their beloved Hellfire room was the best thing I could think off, though that might have been taking things too far and definitely wasn’t going to help my immature image. My false confidence spurred on by misplaced frustration, faltered as I stood beside the wooden table top in the drama room, tracing my fingers along the edge as I made my way to the throne at the end of it.

I clasped the backing of it, pretending that it was his shoulders I was holding as I pictured myself standing by his side while he was in his element. Imagining how good I would look perched on his lap while he mounted his throne. He could shotgun me again, have his way with me and do whatever he wanted to me on this table.

I twisted my fingers in anger, wishing to high heaven that Eddie could see me for what I actually was, torturing myself as I fantasised about Trevor being okay with the idea of the two of us, and that he wouldn’t stand in our way.

I snorted mockingly at myself as I let my hand drop, shaking my head because all of that didn’t matter unless Eddie liked me back, and he definitely didn’t.

Whatever happened between us this afternoon didn’t wipe away the past ten years of him treating me like an extension of Trevor, just an extra sibling to pick on when he wasn’t rising to Eddie’s teasing.

I pulled my bag tighter against my shoulders as I headed for the door, but I froze as loud bangs and shouts of boyish laughter echoed down the hallway.

Shit.

They were early, and even though I’d left the room exactly as I’d found it, Trevor would dip it if he found me in here. ‘Ruining his safe space and invading his territory’ as he’d called it.

I backed off, my head swinging wildly as I glanced around for some form of escape. It was too late, their heavy footsteps thundered towards the door as I dived under the table, my skirt brushing my sneakers as I huddled on my knees to the middle off it, praying that I was hidden.

My stomach shrunk as my name fell from my brothers lips, shaking as I waited for him to expose my position and embarrass me in front of their entire club. But it was followed by a laugh and the sound of flesh smacking flesh. A familiar pair of glasses tumbled to the floor and I had to bite back a whimper as Sean’s arm shot down to grab them, mere feet from where I was crouched.

“Yeah she’s my sister, she told us about you and I figured we needed some new players.” I could practically hear his chest puffing out as he tried to impress that he was important. Six chairs scraped against the floor as they pulled back and the knees of Eddie’s club scooted in closer to me, pressing in on all sides as I stopped breathing.

Laughter filled the small room and the the table top shivered as someone slammed their hands down on it, sending specks of dirt and dust to flutter onto my hair. Sweat built up between my thighs pressed against my calves as the panic set in, the boys were reaching into their bags, pulling out game equipment as they set up for one of their campaigns.

I was going to be here for hours.

The main door swung open again, and I watched the beaten, once white, Reebok sneakers make their way towards the end of the table where I sat. The largest chair that Eddie deemed as his “throne”, scraped back louder than the others as he folded himself into it. My face blazed hot as he man spread, widening his knees until his crotch, level with my face, was agonisingly obvious like it had its own beacon.

I wanted to slap myself for the perverted thoughts that filled my mind, that made my panties dampen between my thighs and my arms shake.

Fucking Jesus

Eddie rolled his hips towards me as he readjusted himself, his ring clad hand resting lighting on his knee as his finger traced slight circles along the fabric. My brother voice shot out on my left, reminding me where I was as I learned away from someone’s outstretched leg.

“Where were you?”

“Just seshing.” If I hadn’t of known him so well, I would have missed the slight grin in his tone, like he knew a secret the rest of them didn’t. My eyes travelled over his shaking knee as his hand flexed, wondering if he was talking about me. I’d come straight here after he’d left me outside of the gym, surely he had aswell?

“Anyone hot?” Gross

“Smoking. But not your type.” Eddie’s hand splayed against his thigh, running up the length of it as my middle clenched at the sight and his words sent my mind blank.

“Looks like everyone’s loved up Eds. Even little Sean here has a thing for my sister.” I wanted to punch Trevor, maybe kick him hard under the table under the pretence of someone else, except then someone might look under the table and I couldn’t imagine a worse situation to be caught in.

Eddie’s knuckles turned white as his hand clenched into a first, he voice was loaded with so much threat I was surprised that Sean didn’t run from the room.

“We already discussed this.” He tsked, his shirt riding up his stomach a little as he leant forward over the table.

“She’s too innocent to have a boyfriend.” His voice was low and thick, and the loud bout of laughter it earned from the table made my dig my nails into my palm, hating him more than ever in that moment.

Trevors laughed lasted the longest, brushing off Eddie’s threat as over bearing brotherly love as he pulled out the set up for their game and began.

Enough was enough.

Time to show Eddie how innocent I actually was.

As the entire table erupted in a vicarious debate over their campaign, and Eddie’s voice rang out louder than any of them, I crawled across the floor, leaning forward on my hands and shuffling on my knees as I avoided the mass of sneakers and made my way between Eddie’s legs.

He was still hunched over, blocking the light from shining down on me as I flattened myself on my thighs, my middle pressing against the cold floor as I straddled nothing.

I waited for another loud stream of laughter and raucous banging on the table to press my hands against Eddie’s knees.

He jolted and shot back in his chair from my touch, his little breath of Fuck was drowned out by someone yelling out over being attacked in the game.

His eyes met mine in disbelief as his brows knotted and he gave his head a little shake, I traced my nails across his jeans, moving up his thighs as he ran his tongue across his lips, his dark eyes becoming heavily lidded as they glanced around the table.

A burning within me trickled out across my skin as I explored more of Eddie, running my hands across his lap as I watched his bulge start to strain against his tight jeans, dancing under the hem of his shirt until my fingers brushed his cool belt buckle.

“Eddie!” His eyes tore away from mine as I pulled at his belt, pulling it through the metal clasp, marvelling that he wasn’t stopping me. He was powerless under my touch now, I was going to make him pay for what he’d said, and if he snitched on me now he would be as incriminated as I was. I grinned as I slipped the leather free of his pants.

“Huh? Oh, you’re faced with a fork in the trail, to your left is a darkened path, scarcely lit with a green glow at the end. To your right lays a steep climb with a golden slight blazing at the top. Which do you choose?”

Eddie’s hands shot down to slap mine out of the way, quickly ripping his zipper down to allow me faster access, his free hand moved to twist into my hair as he glanced down with a smirk on his face, gently guiding me towards his crotch as his club cried out in misery that they’d chosen the wrong path.

His tight hold against my head sent a thrill of warm honey down my spine, tingling deep in my pussy as I leant forward, running my tongue along my lips with a smile as I pulled him free from his jeans.

His pretty cock fell over the dark fabric, filling the space between us as I reached for it eagerly. Finally, after years of obsession and fantasies, I finally had thick length red and hard in my hand, twitching as it waited for me. My mouth salivated at the thought as Eddie’s hand pushed harder against the back of my head, begging for me.

It was all the prompting I needed as I leant forward on my knees, my round eyes staring up at his jaw line though my thick lashes, his flaring stare met mine as he chanced a quick look down, his cheeks reddening as he watched me wrap my hand around his base.

He shuddered a little beneath my touch, a drop of liquid trickled from the tip of his dick, and I caught it with my finger to bring to my lips curiously, I let it drop onto the tip of my tongue, the salty taste surprising me. I smirked and looked up to find Eddies eyes trained on my face, watching me warily. A sudden urge came over me, I leant further on my knees, needing to touch more of him, my head brushed hard against the underneath of tabletop, cringing as someone banged on it again. Eddie leant forward to hide me from view as I pressed soft kisses to his v-line, next to his dick, nibbling lightly at the skin as he gasped and jolted in my grip. Looking up at him I let the wetness from my mouth dribble onto his crotch, the liquid flowing down my arm as I stroked him back and forth, never leaving his gaze I slowly brought my lips to his tip. Listening to his uneven breath I let it slide back and forth across my bottom lip before I slid his entire length down my throat.

Eddie’s first clenched above the table as he raised his voice, trying to down out the stifled gags and wet squelches his cock was fucking into my throat.

“I- uh… you’re all down to fourteen hit points, what do you do?” His voice was thick with resistance as I wrapped my lips around his base and slowly dragged up, digging my nails into his knees.

His stare sent a blazing heat through me, the half fucked out look on his face as he glanced down like he couldn’t believe it, it filled me with the surety that I could do this. Splaying my free hand across his abdomen, trailing my sharp fingers across his skin softly, I began stroking him at a constant pace, quickly wrapping my lips around his dick once more and matching the strokes, gagging every once in a while when there was a yell or laugh loud enough to cover it. I shoved my head down until I reached the base where a light brown tuft of pubic hair tickled my forehead, with each bob of my head I swirled my tongue around him, feeling the ridges of the pulsing veins of his cock. His hands knotted themselves in my hair, sending throbs of pleasure throughout my frame, a pooling wetness gathering in my panties. My free hand moved under my skirt, slipping under my thin lacy material to rub fast and rough circles over my clit, picturing it was Eddie’s ring clad fingers as I stared up at his neck, his head thrown back as I listened to the dice roll across the table top and the entire group break into winning cheers. We both took advantage over the thundering, deafening cheers of success as Eddie fucked my face and my own fingers spurned my towards my hot release, as I felt him falter and curl over the table again, I pulled him free from my mouth, replacing it with my hand as I jerked him in long, hard strokes and hung my head back, my tongue pressing against my chin as I waited.

His muted gasps and moans were overpowered by the others congratulations at each other for their defeat, he untangled his hand from my hair as he wrapped his long fingers around my throat, tilting my head back as I took the tip of him into my warm mouth, his salty cum washed over my tongue as more than I thought was possible, shot across my face, streaks of it painted my cheeks and warmed my skin as it dropped across my chin.

Heat flowed between us as his chest heaved and he wiped the corner of my mouth, pressing his thumb into it until my eyes rolled back and the taste of him was dripping down the back of my throat, he brought his hand to his face and sucked on his thumb infront of everyone above us, licking the mixture of his cum and my spit clean from it as he watched me under the table.

“You know what Sean, if you want to date Trevor’s sister, be our guest. Maybe she isn’t as innocent as I thought.”

Eddie glanced down at me through heavy lashes as his face flushed in a fucked out expression, staring at me like he was finally seeing me for the very first time.

Part Two

Also readers - if anyone’s looking for a slow burn Eddie x enemies to lovers, check out my Opposite Ends series (almost completed)

➢ Eddie tag list }

@eddiemunsons-missingnipple @miarosso @eddies-hellfireshirt @mermemerald @hbaramas @lightcommastix @aaaasdfghjjkkllll @goldylions @mayafatimakhan @mavex @fckyeahlames @harrys-tittie @sl-tfor-joseph-quinn @chickennug90 @miss-momma-drama @luceneraium @eddiesgffff @sammararaven @nightless @dotslabyrinth @relocatedheads @princessbubblehoe @muggleluna @sagittariughs @gloryekaterina @e0509 @urlivingdeadgirl @crimsonsabbath @lem0nb0iii @lelenikki @bebe0701 @bratckerman @the-tacos-unite-blog @extravagantplant @plethoravellichor @justmesadgirl @alinepichi @corrodedcorpsess @fanfictioniseverything @iiheartu @maximizedrhythms @sleepygery @ms1oftheboys @brittanyyydamnit @xsecretsirenx @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @relocatedheads @figmentofquinn @daydreamerblues @hellfire-puppet @wonderful-outcast @drakensmainbitch @princessbubblehoe @iamaslutforcoffee @emolooswrld @tayhar811 @winterbuckystan1943-1917-1982 @eddiesgffff @alana4610 @munson-fixation @princesscutie23 @random000000sblog @leahthesith @ariesbabycitlaly @harringtonfan4 @briasnow-blog @figmentofquinn @anndeloespacio @hereforsmhut @alana4610 @sillypurplemurple @heliumjuliet @smexylittleswine @sav7689 @magnificantmermaid @foxxymunson @hesvoid3434 @kylakins88 @capricornrisingsstuff @smileforallthestrangers @ninapengbrev @mvrylee @princesseddie @desicroft02

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jennifer-jeong · 25 days

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can we get a headcanon of the lads boys' (raf, Zayne & Xavier) reaction when MC bought her little sister that resembles a lot to her (MC) I'm dying for some fluffs here where the boys interact with a kid 😂🥰

HI ANON SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG JFDKLA;JFDLSA; THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR ASKK it’s so fluffy and funny heheh I had fun with this one

NOTE that reader’s sister is around 12 years old in this

[Fluff + Crack] [F!Reader] Little Sister?

CONTENT Fluff, crack, shitposting LOL, implied feminine reader

WORD COUNT: 1342

RAFAYEL

Your sister definitely bullies him at first just like you do (LMAO) and he will pout and turn away in annoyance and she’ll do the same but then you’ll look away for 2 seconds and they’ll be best friends.

At first when you invite Rafayel over, your sister is probably a bit scared, hiding behind you holding onto you. He probably comments on how she’s kind of your “mini-me” and your sister hits him with the “I’m not mini!” and he’ll reply “well you look pretty mini to me.” Then she’ll kick him in the shins (not too hard just a warning kick). He’ll gasp and then dramatically cross his arms, turning away while pouting, she’ll do the same. Of course you’re just giggling at the antics not helping because you know they’ll get along quickly.

“Okay okay you two, go play some games while I finish making dinner for everyone,” you mediate before heading off to the kitchen. So the two stand there for a second before side eyeing each other and scrambling to the TV to see who is the champion at Mario Kart because that is extremely important information. Of course you can hear their screaming and laughter from the kitchen: “WHY DID YOU THROW THAT BANANA AT ME” you hear Rafayel scream, “IT’S YOUR FAULT FOR BEING THERE” you hear your sister reply.

Rafayel definitely yells as if he’s actually driving a car so if he crashes he’ll actually act like he crashed and it makes your sister laugh until her cheeks hurt.

Later on you find out Rafayel placed 6th out of 12 and your sister smoked him for 1st place LMAOOO. They tell you some of the funny moments and it’s all filled with laughter and a bit of banter but they’re practically best friends at this point. You even join them for a few games after dinner and it’s hilarious.

From then on, there isn’t a single moment where your sister isn’t braiding his hair/putting it in pigtails, putting clips on his bangs, play fighting with him, or just having fun with him.

ZAYNE

Basically your sister is dead terrified of him when she first sees him but since Zayne is surprisingly good with all patients, kids included, he’s actually very good with your sister as well.

When you bring your sister to your shared apartment with Zayne, her eyes are literally wide open with fear upon seeing him and when you tell her to come inside, she shakes her head. So you tell her “aw are you scared of him?? He’s harmless, look he’ll even do a dance.” So Zayne looks at you, still deadpan, looks back at your sister, and shimmy’s his arms back and forth a bit. That man is STIFF doing this move but at least he tried.

Her fear hasn’t quite gone away at this point but now it’s just confused fear?? But she agrees to come inside. You walk off to go make dinner and tell them to start a puzzle together and you’ll all finish it after dinner, comforting your sister and reassuring her that Zayne is very sweet. She sits down in the living room with him and they dump the pieces out.

Zayne pauses, staring at the puzzle pieces before asking your sister “what do you call a dancing puzzle?” and she is mildly mortified before actually thinking about the question. She responds “I don’t know, what is it called?” and he, fully deadpan, replies “a jiggy-saw.” Something about the way this stoic man said “jiggy” was just absolutely hilarious despite the awful pun and your sister lets out a snort and Zayne gives a short chuckle. He suggests they begin on the puzzle and they start chatting to get to know each other, occasionally stopping to make fun of some of the funny looking puzzle pieces.

When you call them over for dinner, Zayne holds out his hand for a high five and your sister excitedly obliges before “racing” him to the table, to which he of course loses. They then continue their yapping into dinner as your sister opens up more.

At the end of dinner Zayne has to offer your sister a classic doctor’s office candy and her face lights up, accepting it and running off. You all work on the puzzle and chat, your sister occasionally going over to you and Zayne to tie your hair into matching ponytails that make you look like unicorns with her pink scrunchies.

When it came time for your sister to leave however, she definitely clings onto Zayne’s leg telling him to not let them take her away. But Zayne of course knows how to handle this and says “hey, there will always be next time, and if you promise to be good, you can have two candies, one now, and one the next time we hangout, okay? I’ll even hold on to this scrunchie to remember,” and she agrees to the deal. Needless to say, they were besties now.

XAVIER

Your sister is probably very confused and kind of intimidated when she meets him and Xavier has no clue what to do but he’ll do something cool with his sword or light evol and she’ll never stop being amazed.

When you call Xavier to your apartment for dinner and to meet your sister, he did not expect you to have a tiny doppelganger. What YOU expected even less was for him to literally shake her hand and say “nice to meet you.” Like he fully pulled out the businessman handshake to greet her but she followed along and also hit him with the “nice to meet you too.” Then he walks in as if nothing happened while you and your sister just stand there, watching him walk away before looking at each other and giggling.

You tell them you’re going to finish making dinner and for them to watch a short movie or an episode of a show which they wait. Your sister, being your sister, of course suggests that they watch the new episode of Demon Slayer. Xavier is caught up because you suggested it to him and he agrees, saying he finds the fighting really cool. They watch a bit until the first fight scene and Xavier is like “yoooo check this out” and pulls out his wooden sword LMAO.

He does the same slashing move the character in the scene does and he even uses his light evol to make it look like he has the same powers. He looks back and your sister’s jaw is on the actual floor while he just stands there like the standing person emoji, not sure what to do next.

2 seconds later and he’s teaching her how to hold the sword properly and how to do some basic movements. Her eyes are full of sparkles and she finds him so freaking cool !!! He’s literally a demon slayer character!!!

Xavier of course sees another fight scene and copies a few of the movements. However, he’s too busy watching the screen to see what’s in front of him… Your vase of flowers now sits on the floor. Xavier and your sister literally get on the ground praising the heavens for the vase being plastic and not glass before laughing. Quickly they hear a “WHAT DID YOU KNOCK OVER” from the kitchen and they simultaneously yell “NOTHING” while both hitting the standing person emoji pose.

You put them in timeout together as a joke (you left them there for like 10 seconds and then you all laughed).

During dinner they caught you up on the episode and after eating you finished it together. You all talk about how good it was until you joke that you’ve become a demon yourself and they need to slay you !!! So Xavier and your sister tackle you while you all giggle.

From that day on, your sister never stops talking about how cool her bestie Xavier is and how she wants to train her “demon slaying skills” with him again.

Thank you for reading!

|| MASTERLIST ♡ ||

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace crack #rafayel x reader #rafayel fluff #rafayel crack #zayne x reader #zayne fluff #zayne crack #xavier x reader #xavier fluff #xavier crack #lads x reader #lads fluff #L&DS x reader #L&DS fluff #j's silly ramblings #j's asks

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adorethedistance · 8 months

Text

Baby Fever - Trevor Zegras x Reader

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, smut adjacent content (post-sex interaction/make out), a joke about cheating, a joke about death, and semen... in that order...

Words: 2322

Requested: Can you please do a trevor blurb where him and y/n go to a pumpkin patch with their nephew and Trevor's playing with their nephew and y/n gets so much baby fever please

A/n: Hey y'all! I'm taking a break from the Jamie series of firsts with a requested fic. I kinda riffed on the request so there are some things you need to know beforehand: 1) they're not babysitting a nephew, they're babysitting Troy Terry's kid Greyson 2) I'm aware Greyson is currently an infant but in this fic he's a toddler 3) I understand you asked for a blurb but I'm ass at writing blurbs 4) therefore this is a part 1. (Part 2 coming soon ish?) Enjoy!

Troy Terry had sworn to never let Trevor Zegras supervise his son. Or at least, before I was in the picture anyway. I had befriended Dani over the course of several Ducks’ games after Trevor and I became official. We somehow managed to have the same schedules despite having vastly different lifestyles; at the time, she was a new mom adjusting to domestic bliss, and I was a senior at UC Irvine preparing for my post-grad plans. Now that I’m not overwhelmed with work as a student, she and I grew pretty close. More often than not, we found ourselves having several hangouts without our guys present. Naturally, I saw Greyson a lot, considering the fact that I would spend my time with Dani in the Terry residence.

Our latest hang out consisted of us gabbing about the latest drama with Greyson’s preschool over a glass of wine. In telling me that Greyson was between daycares right now, I offered to take him off her hands for a night so she and Troy could have a much needed date night. At first, Dani refused, not wanting to dump the responsibility on me, but I insisted. There were several pros: I love kids, Dani has done plenty of favors for me before, Greyson’s already comfortable with me, and they wouldn’t have to pay for a babysitter. Pleased with my argument, Dani agreed and the plans were set.

This Friday, the team had a day off and rather than having the guys disappear onto the nearest golf course, Dani and Troy began planning their night off, as did Trevor and I.

“Hey, babe, I was thinking about how to spoil you and thought we could get a table at The Ranch tonight. What do you say?” Trevor asks, holding my hips and subtly pinning me against the kitchen counter.

“About that.”

“What’s up?” He asks, deviously dipping his head down. I don’t give in to whatever seduction game he’s playing, and quickly peck him on the lips.

“I kind of made evening plans.” He takes the kiss in stride and looks at me teasingly.

“Is your boyfriend back in town already?”

“Yeah, he wanted to go to The Ranch, too. I just can’t have my boyfriend and my side piece in one place, soooo.”

“I’ve been demoted to ‘side piece’? Ouch,” Trevor laughs before sliding his hands along my waistband to clasp behind my lower back, and pull me into him so our hips touch. “Fuck. Now you’ll never pick me over him!”

“Oh, that was always the plan. Don’t get it twisted.” He laughs once more before asking,

“What’s going on tonight?” I open my mouth to answer and as I do, he slips his hand down to grab my ass, catching me by surprise.

“Hey!” Right as I scold him, Jamie walks into the kitchen to refill his water bottle. I try to bite back the smile that creeps across my features, flustered by Jamie’s newfound presence.

“Hey Jamo,” Trevor says casually, to try and ease the awkwardness.

“You guys know I still live here, right?”

“Sorry, Jamie.”

“I’m going grocery shopping. Just try to keep it in your room, Z.”

“Keep what in my room?” He asks, playing dumb, much to Jamie’s dismay. He merely shakes his head and leaves the kitchen. Watching Jamie leave, Trevor follows with his gaze, tracking Jamie’s movements to the opposite direction until he hears the front door open and close. After, he turns back to face me, “You were saying?”

“I told Dani I would watch Greyson.”

“What?!” I half expected Trevor to be upset, but he’s sporting the widest smile I’ve ever seen.

“Yeah, she and Troy were due for some alone time, so I offered to take him to the pumpkin patch tonight.”

“When?”

“They’re dropping him off around 5.”

“5. What time is it now?” Trevor leans away from me to look at the clock on the oven that reads 2:57. “Oh, we have time.”

“Time for wha-” I cut myself off with a screech as Trevor picks me up and sits me on the open counterspace. He pushes my knees apart to stand between them, the dominant action in tandem with the cold countertop underneath me sends shivers down my spine. He then kisses me passionately, trailing his fingers up the length of my exposed thighs. His hands find the top of my waistband, running along the hem as he presses his hard on into my core. I hold either side of his face in my hands, squeaking once more as Trevor picks me up and carries me to his bedroom.

___________________________

Panting and still slightly sweaty, I check my phone to see the clock reads 4:43. “Shit.”

“What?” Trevor asks curiously. He’s laying on top of the covers, fully nude and sprawled out, after having collapsed on the bed next to me.

“It’s 4:43,” I say between sticky breaths. He shuts his eyes and groans loudly,

“Give me, like, five minutes.”

“Uh, no sir. You need to get me a towel so I can get up and pee.” Trevor’s eyes shoot open and he sits up.

“Right. Boyfriend duties await.” His expression is humorous and I can’t help but notice the way his abs flex through the movement. If it weren’t too late, I’d have jumped him again, then and there. He rolls off the bed, sliding on the nearest pair of briefs he can find. Trevor then grabs the towel hanging on the doorknob, and walks over to where I am on the bed, propped up on my elbows. The gravity of holding myself up causes the beaded sweat to roll down my cleavage, and on to my stomach where Trevor had finished a few minutes prior. He doesn’t say anything but I clock the way his eyes are trained on my chest as he approaches me. I hold out my hand for the towel but he holds it out of reach.

“What are you-?”

“Lay down.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it!” I confusedly put my head back on his pillow and Trevor grabs both ends of the towel, opening it up to lay it over me. “I’m calling it. Time of death, 4:44 PM. Rest in peace, Y/n, I’ll miss you.”

“Oh my god,” I say from under the towel. Pulling it off my face, I sit back up to find Trevor snickering at his own joke. “Are you proud of yourself?”

“Very.” He leans down and places a sweet kiss on my lips. When he pulls away, my eyes flutter open and he gently lifts the towel to cover his hand, then wipes off the leftover fluid. I look up at him as he moves, a soft smile of adoration painting my features. Trevor looks down at me and widens his eyes teasingly before relaxing to smile at me again.

The sound of the front door opening echoes down the hall and from the entrance we hear Jamie call, “I’m back! Please tell me you’re clothed!”

“Don’t worry about it, Jamo!” Trevor calls back before wadding up the used towel and throwing it at me.

“Ew!” I should’ve known him being sweet wasn’t going to last. Sliding off the side of the bed, I pick up my clothes and walk into the bathroom to pee. After I’m dressed again, I come out to see Trevor had thrown on the outfit he was wearing earlier: a v-neck polo and board shorts.

“You can’t wear that,” I say in disbelief.

“Why?” Trevor looks at me in confusion. Turning to the mirror that hangs on the back of the door, he takes in the fresh hickeys littered across his exposed chest. “Oh shit.” The revelation is perfectly timed with a knock on the door. Nudging Trevor out of the way, I exit his bedroom and leave him to change. Jamie is unloading groceries with his airpods in and I wave when I walk by to signal that we’re done and he can exist peacefully again.

Answering the front door reveals Dani and Troy in the nicest casual clothing I’ve ever seen. The Terry’s smile upon seeing me and I look at Greyson who’s sitting on Dani’s left hip.

“Hi Grey!” I cheer and he immediately smiles. I then notice Troy holding what seems to be Greyson’s booster seat and as I go to reach for it, Trevor appears behind me. Greyson runs inside and begins punching Trevor’s leg with all the might his almost-four year old arms can manage. I laugh but Dani scolds,

“Greyson, we don’t hit people, remember?” He immediately stops, thinks for a moment, and then proceeds to throw punches at Trevor but without making contact. Dani sighs exhaustedly before saying, “Good enough.”

“How’s it going, man?” Trevor asks Troy, causing Dani and me to look at the guys incredulously.

“You saw each other yesterday,” I tease. Trevor shrugs as he takes the car seat from Troy.

“Terry’s my boy though,” He responds somewhat jokingly. Greyson then speaks up,

“What about me?” The group laughs about the sweet question but Greyson isn’t amused. He looks around, confused, before stepping further into the apartment to scope it out. Greyson then yells, “I wanna go to the pumpkin patch!”

“Read you loud and clear, bud,” Trevor replies. Then, Dani asks practically,

“What time do you need him out of your hair?” To which I reply,

“Oh don’t worry about it, we can hang onto him for as long as y’all need.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, well, his bed time is eight, and that’s usually around when we get tired anyway, so we’ll be here around then?.”

“8 it is,” I say with a smile, leaning away to look at Greyson fully. He smiles shyly before hiding his face against Trevor’s leg. “Why are you being shy, Grey-Grey?” I ask, looking down at his level.

“I think he has a little bit of a crush on you.”

“Really?” I ask with a tiny bit of a laugh. Troy chimes in,

“Yeah, he was super excited when she told him you were the one babysitting-”

“He’s been looking forward to it all week.” Dani finishes Troy’s sentence before they look at one another and smile, “In fact, he told me he has something to tell you, right Grey?”

“You’re pretty, Y/n,” He admits before running away, which causes the four of us to laugh.

“I told you my boyfriend was back in town,” I tease, which then makes Trevor laugh heartily. Turning back to Dani and Troy, they both look confused and I feel my cheeks grow warm in embarrassment.

“Inside joke,” I reassure. They nod and offer a few goodbyes to me, Trevor, and Greyson, before heading out for good.

Closing the door behind us, Trevor sets down the car seat and says,

“I gotta up my game now that I have competition.”

“Yeah, so behave!” Trevor touches his left hand to his heart, giving me a look that reads melodramatically offended, “You’re currently in the lead, though.”

“I better be,” he bites back, wrapping his arm around the back of my body, coming to rest his right hand on my hip. His thumb brushes the hem and I look up at him over my left shoulder,

“You’re still turned on?” I whisper, in shock. Trevor doesn’t reply. His hand slinks down to my ass as he kisses my lips heatedly, before he goes to follow Greyson’s path. I follow close behind and see Greyson’s found Jamie in the kitchen.

“Can I have one?!” Greyson shrieks upon finding a box of fruit by the foot. Jamie laughs at his excitement before asking,

“Do your parents even let you have sugar?” The dry humor is lost on the young child but I snort a laugh.

“I’ve had these before in my lunch!”

“...Okay, sure. Let me open it for you. I don’t trust you to not destroy the box.”

“Jame, can you keep an eye on him for a second so we can get shoes on?” Trevor asks.

“He just got here and you’re already pawning off your responsibility on me?” Jamie playfully accuses Trevor, who looks offended. I laugh, partially at Jamie’s joke, and partially at watching Trevor misunderstand his roommate in real time. Jamie looks at me and we laugh about the joke going over Trevor’s head.

I then head for the bedroom to search for the shoes I was once wearing. Trevor enters a little after I do to pull a pair of white sneakers from his closet. He’s uncharacteristically quiet. I almost want to ask what for, but then I’m overcome with the desire to let him stew in the silence. If I wait long enough, he’ll have to speak. He always does. Or, at least, he usually does.

“Do you want kids?” He works up the nerve to ask, quickly adding, “Someday?” in hopes of softening the blow of the genuine conversation topic.

“Probably someday,” I answer simply, which sends him back into an introspective silence for a moment.

“How many kids would you want?” I look over at him to see he’s staring at me, as if tearing his gaze away would shatter the moment. I continue putting on my shoes,

“I think two is a good number. That way they can have a sibling, but not so many that they would feel their needs went unmet. Why?”

“I could do two,” Trevor says assuredly, ignoring my question.

“Well, I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re about two rings short of trying to have a baby with me right now,” I assert in a teasing way, although I’m not joking. The tension of the conversation dissipates as Trevor laughs.

“Fair point,” Trevor squints his eyes at me, “But we can still practice, right?” I laugh again before nodding,

“We can at least agree on that.”

***

a/n: hope y'all enjoyed that and stay tuned for part 2 that'll drop sometime this week or next. let me know if you have a request for either Trevor or Jamie bc I'm on a ducks kick rn! Sidenote: is anyone else absolutely obsessed with the fact that we can copy paste tags now?? saves so much time !!!

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jamneuromain · 4 months

Note

Hii!!! I just read A Whiff of Blood and it was amazing!!! Omg its been a while since I read Lloyd being caring without having another motive. This is pure goodness 😍

I was wondering if there could be a scene where y/n asks to leave work early bc she has a date. Lloyd says fine but ends up at the same restaurant as her with Danny to spy🤣 and y/n saw them and this will be the first time she yells at her boss. how would the boss react? falling for her even more or trying to save his dignity and ego 😎

Hi babe! So sorry that this one-shot is taking forever to come out (and I've made a little adjustment to it :3 hope you don't mind

A Rush of Blood

Lloyd Hansen x You

Warning: Mob AU, Mob!Lloyd, Secretary!Reader, Lloyd is being a (surprisingly) softie(?

Summary: You asked whether you could leave early for a date, while Lloyd decided not to keep his feelings bottled up any more.

W/C: ~4.5k

A/N: This is the final sequel to A Whiff of Blood, Thank you for all your love for Mob!Lloyd<333

Lloyd can’t help but look at your empty seat for the fifth time in a row. The boring-ass meeting for the quarterly revenue of his properties drags on, yet you haven’t returned for a while now.

Lloyd checks his watch.

It’s been fucking two minutes and forty-two seconds since you excused yourself with your phone buzzing in hand.

The ticking watch gets him more annoyed and impatient by the second. Two minutes and forty-four seconds, two minutes and forty-five seconds, two minutes and forty-six - where the heck are you?

You pick up the call as soon as you reach your desk, “Allie?”

“Hey hon. Bad news, I’m stuck at the airport. There has been a huge blizzard here in Alaska and all flights are banned from taking off.” Allie remains her chirpy sound, but a hit of restraint peeks from her words.

Allie has been your friend since high school. You’ve bonded over the mutual love of boy bands during your teen years. Though you have moved on from your love of pop singers/bands, Allie maintains her enthusiasm for K-pop idols.

“I’m in the middle of a conference, so, sorry about making this short,” you sigh, “I assume they can’t get any plane in or out for today?”

You scheduled for fine dining with Allie at one of Lloyd’s restaurants later this evening. At this rate, you are no longer surprised if he owns the Hollywood landmark too.

“Not in this damn weather, no.” She curses under her breath, “Not for three days as far as I’m aware.”

“Jesus.” You rub your temple as it is throbbing, “Sorry about the weather. I’ll reschedule the dinner.”

“No… don’t be.” Her hesitation on the phone sounds slightly suspicious.

“Allie?” You raise your voice dangerously, “What did you do?”

“Don’t be mad,” she holds a pregnant pause, “I’ve got this really cute boy – he’s a year behind us, by the way – and he’s working now in LA, Scott McCall – that’s double C in McCall, and I planned to introduce you two during dinner.”

“The fu- Allie!” You whisper-yell in the phone, “You’re gonna dump me and let me have dinner with a completely random person?”

Allie squeezes a few dry laughs over the speaker, “Eh- Sorry?”

“You better pray there’s no plane in three days because I’m going to crawl through the phone lines and strangle you if I have the chance.” You sputter a curse, “And burn all your K-pop albums.”

She gasps, “NOT THE ALBUMS!”

Typical Allie.

“Seriously though, you had the chance of meeting him two months ago... at an exhibition. The gallery downtown near the bakery? The Retro-modern Exhibition? The one you left early? It took him a lot of strength to get to me and then to you, so … just try, okay? If it doesn’t work out, it’s fine.” Allie sounds unlike her usual self, “If it works out … I guess you’d have a great story to tell your kids.” She can’t help but joke at the end.

“Yeah yeah, ha-ha, very funny.” With a sigh, you agree to her match-making plan, “Fine. But I really have to go back to work now, ‘kay?” You roll your eyes instinctively when the other end of the phone passes a squeaky “yes” to your ears, “I’ll be there on time. Dinner, six thirty, he’d better not be late.”

“You’re my life-saver. Mwah! Love ya’ bye!” After blowing a kiss via mid-air, Allie hangs up the phone as if fearing you will regret your decision in less than a second.

You end the call at the same moment the door to the conference room swings open, and out came a few executives for his real estate.

“Sorry, Mr. Hansen,” you put your phone into your pocket, straightening your shirt because you have been leaning on your desk. You know how much Lloyd hates disturbance, and creases on a shirt.

Lloyd purses his lips with a frown, an expression he wears often to indicate he’s not happy.

“If it’s okay for you, Mr. Hansen, I’d like to leave early today.” You request rather boldly.

For three years of your work as a secretary, the only other time you left early was a medical emergency of your mother. She fell down the stairs, hit her head, and had a broken femur. Though it wasn’t much of a big deal when she was transferred to a ward later, it scared the hell out of you to take the call from the local hospital, telling you your mother was sent to the ER in an ambulance.

Lloyd was generous enough to grant you a week of leave, but you got back on Day 5 after making sure your mother was well and taken care of.

“Is your family alright?” He asks, clearly still remembering the last time when you got kidnapped on the street, for which he had to assign Claire – a bright young lady, whom you’ve grown fond of over these past weeks – to act as your bodyguard and occasionally your assistant. Under Lloyd’s orders, she went to oversee the security cam installation at your apartment door.

“They are fine.” You suppose it’s better to tell him the truth regarding your leave, rather than having him meet you in his restaurant a few hours later, “I uh… have a date tonight.”

“A date?” He raises his eyebrows, repeating syllable by syllable, “A date, you say?”

“Yes, a date.” It feels like a betrayal all of a sudden, a betrayal of your work ethic. Your throat tightens, “Ahem, I’ll be leaving at five, if that’s alright with you, Mr. Hansen.”

Lloyd studies you for a moment.

“Okay.” He shrugs, sounding carelessly, “If you finish the work for today.”

You are pretty sure that there’s no more itinerary for either Hansen or you after this meeting, but you still play your role as a dutiful secretary and ask, “Anything else you would like me to do?”

“Call James and tell him to pick up the loan I gave out to the Dawson scum, five mil’ in cash or non-bearer bonds. If Dawson returns even one dime short, I want his arm broken. And deliver the drycleaning to my place by five tonight. Tell my butler, while you’re at it, he can hold off the repair down at the basement, this can wait till January. And,” he pauses, “I want you to tell Dani, head to her place personally, and tell her that I’m cancelling the Cuban appointment.”

“Yes, Mr. Hansen.” You pick up the landline straight away, ready to dial James’ number.

“You are not taking any notes whatsoever.” Lloyd narrows his eyes, “What are the tasks I just gave you?”

Lloyd seems extra grumpy today, plus you are not a note-taker anyway. You cover the speaker with your palm, though puzzled as to why he’s moody all of a sudden, but comply with his demands, “Call James, collect the debt from Dawson; get the drycleaning to your house by five, and tell your butler Marlin not to rush on the basement repair; and lastly, tell Dani you’re cancelling the Cuban appointment.” And you have no clue what this “Cuban” appointment is. Darn, Lloyd does keep a whole lot of secrets from you, “Anything else, Mr. Hansen?”

Fuck.

He sounds like fucking Cinderella’s stepmom dumping beans into the fireplace. Since when did he get off on ordering you around doing meaningless chores? He could perfectly do them himself, not to mention some of the biddings he has just told you were unnecessary – the basement repair? It was a damn doorknob getting stuck, not a pipeline that leaks like a faucet.

“Claire’s not here, take Avik with you.” He grumbles, returning to his office and slamming the door shut.

Avik is a silent, tanned man who often acts as Lloyd’s muscle. He emerges from thin air – or probably from some corner, standing rigidly behind you like a statue.

“Hey Avik, mind if I drive?” You put a warm smile on your face, swinging the car key on your finger.

Avik merely nods, gesturing that he’ll walk in front of you.

After picking up Lloyd’s drycleaning and telling Marlin the exact words from Lloyd's mouth, you head off to your next assignment.

Dani.

Dani is a woman approximately your age, speaks fluent Spanish, English, and Italian, probably a couple of other languages that you couldn’t understand too, and rumored to be Lloyd’s ex.

She is a charming lady living in a mansion away from the glamourous nightlife of LA, but not shy of parties. In fact, you’ve accompanied Lloyd to a few that she hosts, and if you ever need a party planner, she would be your No. 1 choice – if you can afford it.

You tap on the steering wheel somewhat anxiously, checking your watch. It’s five to six, and Dani’s residence is halfway across the city, and you have yet to finish the job that Lloyd told you to.

It feels like double standards when you explicitly told Allie that your date cannot be late.

Dani’s lovely butler, Mrs. Santos invited you in, leading you to the guest room.

“To what do I own this honor of having Lloyd’s personal assistant arriving at my place?” Dani flips her hair and giggles.

“Lloyd has sent me to tell you that,” you still remember the strange code phrase word by word, “He’s cancelling the Cuban appointment.”

Dani carefully studies you for a moment, before bursting out laughter, “He… He said that? The Cuban appointment?”

Darn, even when she’s laughing, she’s charming as always.

“Yes.” You answer her question, “If there’s no message you want me to forward to him, I’ll be out of your hair.”

Dani hangs a mysterious smile on the corner of her lips, her honey-toned skin practically gleaming as she speaks, “None. But if you don’t mind me asking, do you have any plans for tonight? I want to borrow you for one of my parties – you know,” she shrugs, “connections and all that.”

Dani’s parties are always filled with delightful cocktails and exquisite people she knows from all over the world. It’s a perfect chance to refresh your connections with all sorts of people – thieves, CEOs, fences, politicians - part of the reason why she asked you to stay.

Yet, you were already booked for tonight.

“Sorry,” you politely rejected, “I’d love to, but I have a date tonight.”

“Well, you-” Dani points at you with her perfectly manicured finger, sounding cheerful, “are welcome at my place, anytime. You can bring your date here even, if you need a place to chill.”

“Thank you, Dani.” You respond, “Have fun at your party.”

Dani cocks her head to the side. The bright flashy diamond earrings peek from under her hair, swaying as if they were about to fall. She hums thoughtfully before wishing you a pleasant evening.

As soon as you step out of her estate, Dani picks up her phone and dials Lloyd’s number, “I recall a certain someone claims that he needs absolutely no help landing a girl,” She twirls her hair around her fingertips, chuckling, “the Cuban appointment, Lloyd? Wow, you must be really desperate. Now, you want me to help you sabotage her date? That I can do...”

With Lady Luck by your side, you’ve successfully reached the restaurant five minutes early with someone already at your table, while Avik sits at a table on the other side of the aisle, keeping an eye on you.

“You must be Scott.” You pull your chair to sit, trying your best to ignore the bulk of muscles on your righthand-side, watching as the young man across the table hastily puts down his water glass and stands abruptly with his face flushed.

“H… Hi.” He can barely stop the grin on his face, “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Allie is right. He is cute.

Scott scratches the back of his head, plopping down on his seat, asking hesitantly, “If this is not too intrusive, how did you get a reservation? My friend has been dying to try this place for a week and the nearest spot available is three months later.”

“My boss is a close friend of the restaurant manager.” Lloyd practically runs this place. The manager gets scared shitless every time he needs to deliver the quarterly books to Lloyd and he asks you to do it in his place. Hence, he’s greatly in your debt. But you are not going to tell Scott you work for the largest gang in the city, so you feign your interest and ask, “What about you? Allie didn’t tell me what you do for a living.”

His face goes flushed pink again, “I uh… I work as an assistant curator,” he adds, “but I paint.”

“Oh really? That sounds fun. What do you paint?”

Scott chats on and on about his love for contemporary art and various ways of making a beautiful moment permanent when you notice Avik stands up and leaves.

“… sorry,” you apologize to Scott, for you have missed the question he asks, having paid too much attention to the bodyguard Avik who doesn’t seem like returning, “what was that again?”

Scott shuts his mouth momentarily before managing a small smile, “I was just thinking that we should get the waiter. Is there anything you like on the menu?”

The food was divine, and the wine was savory too. Though the waiters seemed a little distracted – you guessed it was probably their boss telling them to stay away from your table for you to enjoy your date. After exchanging pleasant conversations, you know it’s time to end this lovely date.

Before getting the check and leaving, you excuse yourself to freshen up.

Scott nods with his curls bouncing.

Scott is nice.

He is smart, funny, and cute with his untamed curls.

You put on a thin layer of lipstick. Looking into the mirror, the polite smile breaks away when you watch your reflection.

Scott is a decent guy. Why don’t you like him?

A vague outline rises in your head, before evaporating.

Stop it. You tell yourself. Scott is a nice guy. You should enjoy this date.

Only when your figure disappears behind a few tables, did someone sit on your spot.

“Evening.” A moustache man traces his finger on the cup from which you drank, crossing his legs, “Scotty, right?”

Scott clenches his hand on the arm of his chair, but Avik appears quietly behind him, grabbing his shoulders to have him sit down. A hard piece of metal is pressed to the back of his head. It doesn’t take much common sense to understand that Avik has a gun pointing at him.

“Don’t get all flustered,” Lloyd pours some wine into both glasses, “I’m just here to… be nice.” A wicked grin creeps up his lips as Lloyd continues, “The woman who you’re dating tonight?”

Scott gulps, squeezing a “yeah” out of his teeth.

“That’s my girl.” Lloyd dead-pans, massaging the light smudge of your lipstick on the glass, “So, if you have any wrong idea, or any thoughts about her…” Lloyd has a cold gleam in his eyes, shakes his head and tuts, “Don’t.”

Poor Scott has his face drained of colors. His lips quivering, “I-I’m not- I don’t want to be part of this…”

“Good.” Lloyd smirks. Drinking from your glass, he licks his lips to savour the sweet honey taste of your lipstick, before giving his final order, “Now be a good boy, say your ‘nighty night’s, and get the fuck out of my turf.”

“Boss.” Avik’s eyes dart to the lavatory, signalling that you are approaching this table.

“Aaaand that’s my cue.” Lloyd stands up from the chair, looking content, “Keep this little interaction between us, will ya’?” He pouts, “I’d hate if she gets upset.”

By the time you reach this table, Scott sweats in buckets like he has just been to a sauna.

“Is everything alright?” You can’t help but ask.

“Yeah… yeah.” Scott could barely mask his trembling voice, or keep his eye contact, “I’m … feeling uncomfortable… right now.”

“Is it the food? Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“No… I mean, I think so. The asparagus was raw.” Scott wipes the sweat off his pale face, “It’s been lovely, but …”

Your eyes dart to the table where Avik was sitting. Nope, he isn’t there. For a second you thought that Avik might have terrorized Scott into backing out. Such a stupid idea, why would Avik do that? You throw this thought to the back of your head, before suggesting if Scott needs a lift home, or to the hospital.

Scott nearly jumps from his spot upon hearing the offer, which confuses you as he avoids speaking or looking at you, as if you were a plague.

He takes his belongings, bids you good night before sprinting out of the restaurant.

What the fuck have you done???

You trouble yourself with the question when Avik returns to your side without a single sound, “Avik, I was wondering where you’ve been.”

“The backroom where I can observe the surveillance footage, ma’am.” His voice booms, “Shall I drive you home?”

“Yes, I suppose.” You sigh.

Avik gestures for you to walk, but you stop in your tracks.

“Avik?”

“Yes, Ma’am?”

“Did you have any food yet?”

You did not see him ordering anything when he was sitting across the aisle, nor do you believe that he’d risk losing his job over some half-cooked asparagus.

“… No Ma’am.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. The exhaustion of trying to satisfy Lloyd’s tasks and doubting whether he’s being paranoid again takes over you for so long, you seem to lose a little bit of human emotions – neglecting dutiful Avik, as a result.

“Sorry about that, Avik.” You apologize, feeling slightly better that you’ve come to your senses after a long day, “I’ll have them prepare something vegan for takeaway.”

“…thank you, Ma’am.”

Grabbing a waiter passing by, you tell him about your request, before resting on your chair.

Out of sheer boredom, you tap on your glass, scraping the lipstick smudge off the crystal-clear surface with a used napkin.

Avik coughs as if he has just choked on his own spit.

“Everything alright, Avik?”

It seems like you’ve said this for the second time tonight.

“Yes. Ahem. Yes, all is well.” Avik clears his throat uncomfortably.

“Because you can totally have tonight off. I’m more than capable of driving home myself.” You offer sweetly, expecting him to take the suggestion and leave you here.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Avik replies rigidly, his shirt collar tightening around his tanned skin as he speaks, “Thank you, but your safety is my priority.”

You should have known better than to negotiate with Lloyd’s muscle. They follow his orders like workers around a queen bee. Pursing your lips together, you decide not to spend time bargaining with Avik, but scroll on social media to distract yourself.

Avik lets out a long, slow exhale when you are focusing on your phone. He’s great at bodyguarding, but terrible at being a double agent.

The takeaway package arrives shortly – or it could be you are too tied up in the TikTok drama to notice time slipping away from the tip of your fingers. Avik takes the wheel while you sit in the back, trying hard not to think about the sudden change in Scott’s attitude.

It’s not like you don’t enjoy Scott’s company. You do. But Scott’s dashing out of the restaurant leaves a certain impression that you don’t think you’d forget anytime soon. Maybe the food was raw. Or burned. Or he had some pills. Still, it doesn’t explain why he ran out of the place like a bloodhound was chasing him.

Or is there something wrong with you? Something he’d grow repulsive of?

“Stop the car, please.” The thoughts in your head are preventing you from breathing. With Avik’s puzzled frown in the rearview mirror, you shrug, “You can go park the car. I want to have a little walk and some fresh air.”

After what must be an internal debate in Avik’s silence, he slowly stops at the curb, agreeing for you to have your fresh air.

The street is silent, not a living soul in sight. You close your eyes and breathe in the fresh air.

Oh well, maybe the air is not so fresh after all, with the smell of gasoline and dust and … smoke?

You turn around.

Lloyd’s Rolls-Royce follows you like a toddler in small steps, with a hand outstretched from the window that flicks his cigarette stub to the curb.

“Mr. Hansen?” You could’ve been dreaming. Why would Lloyd’s car follow you? Why – “What are you doing here?”

Lloyd steps out of the vehicle, popping a peppermint into his mouth. Crushing the candy with his jaw, he mumbles, “Just having a late-night stroll.”

A ridiculous idea comes into mind, and you ask in disbelief: “Are you following me?”

“No.” Lloyd stares at you straight into your eyes, but you’ve seen him lie better, “This is my turf. And you can’t ban me from patrolling my own territory.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes.

Sure. Patrolling. Very convincing. He just happened to stumble in front of your apartment building among hundreds of thousands of streets.

“Of course.” Maybe it’s the wine, because for crying out loud you would be tongue-tied if you were to say this at work, but the sarcasm drips out of your tone like water out of a broken faucet, because you are not in the mood. At all. “Good night, Mr. Hansen.”

“I had a great night.” Since he counts the scurrying of one horny young man as a win, Lloyd casually drops, “Can’t say the same about you.”

What the heck is wrong with him?

Now it’s definitely the wine that does the talking, as you poke him square in the chest with your index finger, your voice littered with fury, “It’s after-hours, and you don’t own my after-hours, in case you don’t have a watch, okay?”

Lloyd offers his characteristic lop-sided smile, “What - you’re gonna buy me one?”

“No?!” You huff out in disbelief. Has he taken hallucinating drugs? Why on earth is he acting funny? “This is not - look, Mr. Hansen-”

Lloyd steps closer. You get that whiff of smoke from his body, and the musky cologne that he occasionally uses in rare circumstances, and your words somehow get stuck in your throat.

“Lloyd.” He pronounces his name, loud and clear, “C’mon sunshine, lllllloyd.”

Lloyd. The name rolls to the tip of your tongue. It feels natural and soft, unlike Lloyd Hansen himself. But the syllable drives your heartbeat wild. He is your boss. You are obligated to call him Mr. Hansen.

Well, maybe not obligated. But you would feel more comfortable calling him Mr. Hansen. The name Lloyd sounds like an over-step of your work relationship.

Your work. Your beloved secretary job. Which is fine. Which you enjoy, as you handle his affairs with some effort. But the name. He’s asking you to call him Lloyd and that sounds more intimate than what you should be calling your boss.

“I- ” You are at a loss of words. What does he want? Does he want you to be his mistress? Which is ridiculous, because you don’t want to be the type of canary living in a birdcage and sing for him whenever he pleases. More importantly, he cannot be having thoughts about you – or does he want this to be a one-night thing where he could pull up his pants and comment on how long since he had a good fuck?

-stop it. It’s an insane thought. He’s not interested. So are you.

You accidentally look at his eyes, and you recognize the burning desire rooting deep down. It scorches you instantly as your eyes meet, before you lower your head to avoid the demanding gaze.

“You’re my boss…” You mutter weakly, knowing well that this stupid excuse does not prevent you from enjoying (or feeling safe at) Lloyd’s presence – most of the time, when he’s not bloody or throwing punches – or from the plain fact that maybe, just maybe that you feel a little different towards him, and that for the briefest of moments, you wished that he was sitting across the dinner table tonight, taking you out on a date.

Lloyd’s expression goes still for a second.

You can’t tell whether he’s mad or upset.

He sighs, taking a step towards you to close the space between you two, before framing your face in his hands and whispering in frustration, “God, you’re so dumb.”

His lips are soft, contrary to his mean words. They land on you with a bitter taste of burned tobacco, as his tongue swipes the seam of your lips, forcing an embarrassing mewl out of you.

It felt like Lloyd and his roughness. It felt like an iceberg breaking into chucks, whales lifting their head to breathe and the dam that withholds feelings inside your head cracks. It felt … right.

He slowly breaks away the kiss, sighing again, right next to your lips, his moustache making your cheek itch.

“Am I about to get a kick in the balls?” He asks softly, nose gently rubbing on yours.

“No…no.” Not that you don’t want to, because how dares he! Following you and kissing you like that! But because your head turning into a warm mush.

“Good.” He nibbles on your lips, you can feel his lips curving into a smile, “ ’cause I kinda like them.”

“Hmm?”

“Never mind.” He lands another kiss on you before pulling away. The bad-boy grin visible on his face.

You feel like you need to say something. Anything. So, you open your mouth and: “Do you want … a cup of coffee at my place?”

Lloyd cocks his eyebrows in surprise, but there’s no way he’d let slip of this chance, “Sure, why not.”

The mush in your brain refuses to leave. Your body acts on auto-pilot, leading you away from him.

You don’t even notice that he’s not following you this time, until he calls your name out of the blue, with a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Yes, Mr. Hansen?”

Lloyd decides to let slip of your poor choice of words this time, simply pointing his thumb in the other direction: “Your home is this way.”

Taglist (Also tagging those who might be interested): @stargazingfangirl18 @sarahdonald87 @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @magnificentsaladllama @biteofcherry @petalj @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @thezombieprostitute @yiiiikesmish @warriorblu @vonalyn @notathingjustthere @lokislady82 @irishhappiness @toozmanykids @alicedopey @cakesandtom @universitypenguin @openup-yourmind @helenaeisenhower @wilsons-striped-ties @tittittoee @bean-is-reading @yearningforsappho @esposadomd @salvatoreitmeanssaviour

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Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

#lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen fluff #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen fic #mob!lloyd hansen #the gray man #a whiff of blood

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scary-event2369 · 4 months

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Yandere! Alien (ONE-SHOT)

I’m sick as hell rn and I just want to write. Sorry it’s been awhile TT

Never wrote something like this before so be nice but criticism is always welcome!!

Also been awhile since I wrote smut, so i apologize if it’s not good either

Content: AFAB Reader (no gendered terms used), aphrodisiac effect (alien’s saliva), sexual themes, alien dick (ikyk) oviposition (egg-laying/having eggs inside you), breeding, brief mention of blood. P -> V. Cunnilingus. This is a lighter yandere. —

You headed up to your grandparents' mountain cabin, craving some alone time to clear your head and unplug. It was meant to be a chill getaway, a routine check. The cozy rustic vibes inside welcomed you, but what caught you off guard was the sight of an alien, looking totally puzzled by a simple piece of fruit. It was almost cute, but definitely not part of the plan.

It was not even a full 24-hours before you heard a loud crash outside. Your first thought was a tree possibly falling. To your surprise, there was this odd pod thing sitting there.

You immediately wanted to call someone, but then you remembered. No service, no humans around for miles – classic mountain problems. However, your curiosity got the best of you, so you grabbed a stick and poked the mysterious pod. It hissed open, releasing a fog that revealed a towering alien.

This dude was something else. Humanoid, but not quite right. Terrifying yet strangely captivating. Pale, almost ghostly skin, cat-like features with pointy ears and weird dark marks all over. Antennas sticking out of his head and long silky smooth white hair flowing down.

Now, a few days later, he couldn't take his eyes off an apple, completely captivated like a kid in a candy store. His long finger reached out, gently tapping it.

"Want a bite?" I interrupted his apple stare-down. He turned to me, his language sounding weird, definitely not from around here, but the guy picked up English crazy fast.

"Can eat this?" he questioned, his voice all deep and otherworldly, like trying to put words to an alien sound. I nod, “Yeah go ahead. It’s pretty tasty.”

He snatched the apple, giving it a good sniff and admiring its vibrant red hue. Hesitating for a moment, he finally decided to take a cautious bite. His eyes widened, almost sparkling with surprise. Without wasting any time, he went for another bite, a grin spreading across his face.

A little chuckle escaped me."So, what do you think? Is the apple a hit?” I asked him between giggles. His mouth was full of the apple, the juice pouring down her cheek. “Apple... good," he responded with a few mysterious words, likely compliments, before switching back to English. "Tastes like Earth. Want more."

"More apples?" I questioned, making sure. His face lit up with happiness as he nodded. I got up from the couch and headed towards the kitchen. I grabbed more apples, including some oranges and pears for good measure. Dumping the fruity treasure on the end table, I declared, "Voila!"

He gobbled up the whole apple, even the core, and then flopped into a chair by the table. Snatching an orange, he sniffed it just like he did with the apple. A big bite, some chewing, and he declared, "Different, but good,” he mumbled with a nod. "Earth food, good." I shook my head, chuckling. "No, you can't eat the skin like that. Let me peel it for you," I said, quickly peeling it for him. "Here, give it another shot. It'll be way tastier this way." I held out the peeled orange, urging him to try it again.

He narrowed his eyes at it, unsure, then decided to take another bite. The look on his face mirrored the one he had when munching on the apple. "This is real good," he exclaimed, before launching into a stream of excited chatter in his own language. "You," he stopped to find the right word. "Smart! Lots of cool things. I wanna know more."

I flashed him a smile, saying, "Awh, thanks! I'm curious to know more about you too." We took a little pause, just locking eyes. His big, dark, almost black orbs were fixed right on me, kind of hypnotic. I turned my head and blurted out, "So, um, what else do you wanna find out?" His intense look left me a bit flustered.

I still felt his intense gaze burning into the side of my head. Suddenly, he grabbed my hand and yanked me back onto the couch, plopping down beside me. I was a bit confused, but I took this as him wanting to know what this was. “Oh, this thing? It's a couch. Like a big chair, so more people fit on it," I explained.

He gave a little nod, inching closer. Those eyes were still locked onto mine, like he had something important to say but was stuck on the words. Next thing I knew, his hands were on my cheeks, squishing them, and his forehead rested against mine. Our noses touched. If you told me a few days ago that a massive alien would nuzzle noses with me and I'd just roll with it, I'd have called you nuts. However I just let it happen. Despite us knowing each other only a few days I felt a strange trust and connection to him.

I raised an eyebrow, still kinda confused but not backing off. His fingers, long and gentle, traced my cheek, giving me a ticklish feeling. His breath brushed against my face, and he stayed quiet. “So… is this some alien custom or what?" I questioned, getting even more confused by all the physical contact. He nodded, making a small clicking noise. Then he began to say a bunch of words in his native language. I think he could notice I wasn't understanding in the slightest because he let out a huff before he kissed me quickly.

I gasped at the sudden feeling. It wasn't like any regular kiss; it was way more enjoyable, sending a tingling and numbing feeling through me. His lips still held the sweetness from the fruit we had earlier.

His hand moved to the back of my head, pulling me in closer, while the other one continued to gently stroke my cheek. A warmth began to wrap around me, it was a strange feeling, but one I wasn’t pulling away from.

I shut my eyes and leaned in, returning his kiss. A surge of warmth enveloped us, almost like a sweet paralysis. It was too irresistible to pull away.

The hold he had on the back of my neck got a bit tighter. It didn’t hurt but it was obvious he didn’t want me to pull away, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. His soft lips were intoxicating, both of our lips moving in rhythm.

His tongue teased my bottom lip, coaxing them to open. It felt like an aphrodisiac, a warm and comforting sensation. Slowly, I surrendered as he pressed me down onto the couch, rendering me completely immobile.

Breaking away, he panted slightly, and we gazed at each other breathlessly. It felt like we were just staring at each other for hours, even though it was only a couple seconds. The warm feeling growing in my chest and stomach was growing, it was pure need.

Gasping for breath, he uttered "Xylorvex," a word in his native tongue. Pausing for a moment, thinking, he repeated, "Mate. You're mine, all mine." With that, he pressed his head against my neck, as he began to kiss and suck the skin.

The words hit me, making my face burn as he nibbled and kissed my neck. His teeth were sharp, but he tried to be gentle, though sometimes he bit too hard, making me bleed.

Yet, he was quick to lick and clean the wounds, sending a rush of arousal through me. My body went numb, and all I could feel was the strange alien's touch. His kisses left me craving more. "P-please," I stammered, desperate.

The strange creature stared at me, clearly confused. I let out a groan and pleaded, "I need more," hoping it would catch my drift. It took a while but then he nodded, finally understanding as his long fingers slowly pulled down my pants and now slicked covered underwear.

The cold air on my bare pussy made me flitch and shiver slightly. He brought one his face down and looked at it which only made me more embarrassed but aroused. After a while he brought his hand towards it, going up and down the folds, gathering more of the wetness. I let out a shaky moan and quivered slightly. I was so turned on it was almost painful. The creature watched as my pussy convulse around nothing. He slowly brought his face towards it as he began to carefully lap the folds. I cover my mouth as I let out a loud mouth. My breathing has gone heavy yet shallow as he continued licking and sucking. It was tingling in a way that caused more sensations than ever. I grabbed a handful of his hair, not knowing whether I was pulling him closer or pushing him away.

“Sweet. Like fruit,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving my cut as it dripped leaving a small pool onto the couch. He quickly went back towards it, slurping up all the arousal that poured out of me. He was mostly silent throughout this, a few clicks that I took as happiness as his half-lidded eyes switched from my pussy to my face. Luckily enough I was making enough noises for the both. It was only a matter of minutes before I felt my orgasm building full force. He began to swirl his long tongue around my clit sucking on it before going back towards my hole pushing his tongue in. “Nghh~ ah fuck~” I moaned out loudly as I came all over his face. The slick trailing down his chin as he made sure to give my pussy a few more kisses before sitting back up and looking at me. “Good?” I nodded as my chest went up and down heavily. I have never experienced anything like that before and it took a lot of the energy out of me. He smiled slightly as he then took off his pants showing his now fully erect dick, it was nothing like you have ever seen before. It was long and girthy, with the same black markings that were across his skin. It was veiny, and twitching. Despite being quiet it was obvious he was just as excited as you were.

He slowly rubbed the entrance, gathering my slick onto his dick. I rarely had time to think before he pushed it in slowly, filling me up instantly. We both let out a moan as he bottomed out. The clicking noise became louder as he began to mumble something. He kissed my lips before he started to thrust his and wiggle inside me.

It was otherworldly, it was like his cock was perfectly morphing itself to my folds causing a sensation I couldn’t explain. The moans I let out came off as more of screams as I gripped the couch. However they were not as loud as they could be because of his sweet kisses, almost praising and encouraging me to take it.

You quickly learned that his species had a strong stamina. He was doing all sorts of positions with you, forcing orgasm after orgasm before all you could do was cry and take the pleasure. Hours later and after your nth orgasm did he finally cum. He gave his final thrusts as he shot his load inside you. The warmth filling you as you whined. You could feel him depositing large eggs within you. Causing your belly to bulge as he cooed and petted your head.

After he laid all his eggs within you he finally put out, a clear sticky substance pooled out of your entrance as you trembled. The alien held you close as he brought you to the bed, grabbing something he thought was a towel and wiped you up.

You quickly fell passed out as he cuddled up next to you, spooning you and continuing his pats to your head. He just knew that you’ll be such a kind and loving mate for the children slowly growing inside you.

#yandere #yandere boyfriend #male yandere #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere writing #yandere male x reader #afab reader #spicy #alien #alien oc #alien boyfriend #yandere alien #yandere teratophillia #yandere exophilia

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emberfrostlovesloki · 28 days

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The Crucible [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@roting) Center (@dudeitiskarev) Right (@moodboard-d)

Prompt: Aaron finds himself alone with a homegrown terrorist group whose leader he put away a year ago. He gets beaten, shot, and dumped in the woods where the reader finds him and attempts to keep him alive long enough for the paramedics to get to him.

Pairing: Aaron x Non-BAU!reader, gender-neutral!reader. The reader uses they/them pronouns

Category: angst/hurt/comfort [happy ending]

Word Count: 14.9K

Content Warnings: Food is mentioned, alcohol is consumed, there is a hate group [the bad guys], severe beating [glass broken on a body, unwanted touch, forced drinking, punching, hitting, groping (Aaron)], shooting [Aaron], death by gunshot [a bad guy], gore, mention of past abuse [Aaron], arguing, near death, hospitals, deep concern and coping mechanisms, language. If I missed any, please let me know.

A/N: Hi all! It has been a while, but I am back now thanks to the end of the semester. I hope you are all doing very well! As always, I return with a novel of a Hotch story. I’ve had this idea for months now, and I am happy with how it turned out. I do want to encourage you to read the Content Warnings as this is angsty (though it has a happy ending). If you like this concept and would like to see a part two, let me know. I have many fluffy ideas for Aaron too, and those are coming, pinky promise. I am so happy to be writing again and hope to do a lot of it during the summer. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

P.S. Special shoutout to @criminalskies for sharing emergency medicine with me for this fic! If I got things wrong, I'm sorry pookie.

List with all stories

y/n = your name

_c/t_ = coffee or tea

y/l/n = your last name

y/a = your age

Aaron drove down the lonely highway. He’d passed briefly through Shenandoah National Park. The peacefulness of the trees had calmed his mind for the hour that he was in the park, but as he got back onto the main road, the conversation that was bothering him started to edge its way back into his consciousness. Hotch wanted to close his eyes and potentially scream, but he settled for rubbing his hand angrily over his brow and then his eye bags that seemed to get heavier each day.

Sean had reached out last week saying that he was going to be in New York meeting someone and had asked if his older brother had wanted to get a drink and catch up. To Hotch, this was last-minute planning according to him and his packed schedule. But he’d managed to drag himself out of bed and on the road on Saturday morning. When he got into the city, he and Sean met up at a swanky restaurant that suited Aaron’s taste a bit more than Sean’s. That at least he had to give his little brother credit for.

In their adult lives, the Hotchner brothers had never seen eye to eye. It had only gotten worse when their mom had passed leaving the last real reason for them to be civil behind. Not that they were outwardly hostile, at least they hadn’t been until this afternoon, just that Aaron carried a lot of guilt and Sean had never seen to be able to step past his anger about what life had thrown at him. Neither could be blamed for their responses. But when Aaron arrived at the restaurant, Sean moved forward and shook his hand, and even gave him a hug with his other hand. Hotch returned the hug, realizing just how many years it had been since Sean and he had seen each other.

They pulled back and looked at each other for a moment before moving inside and being seated. They both decided to just have a drink. Aaron got a mezcal mule and Sean opted for a margarita on the rocks. They both did a bit of catching up on their first drink, but things started to get rocky when Sean said, “So, I’m seeing someone new. Her name is Jennifer and she’s got three kids from a past relationship. I’m going to visit her and her family over the weekend. If things look good I’m thinking of moving from Nashville. Or I’ll invite her to move down with me.” Hearing this, Hotch took a sharp breath in. Sean had always been impulsive, but this was a lot, even for him. Aaron had hoped that with time, his brother would have grown out of this lifestyle.

Hotch furrowed his brow and asked, “How long have you known her?” Sean sipped his drink but didn’t love Aaron’s tone. He replied a bit defensively, “A month and a half, but I don’t see why that’s a big deal. I’m just feeling it out, Aaron.” Hotch couldn’t help but scoff and say, “It sounds like a bit more than that.” Aaron’s reply only solidified Sean’s defensive nature, and he replied hotly, “Well what do you mean by that? You don’t even know Jennifer.” Aaron took a steadying breath. He didn’t want to come off as creating a narrative, or not trusting Sean, but Aaron had seen the same thing play out with his brother again and again, and each time Sean got hurt. Hotch looked at Sean and said, “I shouldn’t have said it like that. But what I’m trying to say is that you jump into things. You and I have both seen it before. You say that I don’t know Jennifer well, but from what I’m hearing I don’t know if you know her that well either, and you’re already talking about you or her moving across the country. Does that sound logical or well throughout to you?”

Sean was already heated. Something about Aaron’s attitude made him feel judged. His older, well-put-together brother always had something to say about his life. Sean set down his empty glass and said, “Well maybe you’d know more about me and my life if you called me sometimes. Or unlocked yourself from the chain connecting you to your desk and came down and saw me sometimes.” Aaron sighed and tried to defend himself even though he knew Sean was right saying, “Sean, I have Jack. And my work doesn’t just let me have off time like yours does. Plane tickets go both ways. And you never answered my question.”

Aaron pinched the bridge of this nose. He just once wanted Sean to think through his actions. Sean responded, “You’ve always thought you were better than me. And I think you really stopped caring about me when Mom died. But let’s be honest, you stopped caring when dad passed.” The mention of their family so quickly broke Hotch’s facade of composure and he said, “Don’t bring family into this Sean. You know I don’t talk about that. I care about you and I want you to make good choices.” Sean let out a sharp breath and said, “You don’t talk about it because you refuse to admit how fucked up it left you emotionally, Aaron. At least I can connect with women. And don’t start acting like dad on me now.” Sean’s latest comment landed like a slap on the face to Aaron and he said, “You better not be comparing me to him, Sean. You had better not be doing that right now.” After all the beatings Aaron had taken for his mom and for Sean who always seemed to be getting into trouble during his younger years, the comparison made Aaron feel sick. Before Aaron had a chance to reply or defend himself for making a comment he already regretted, Sean continued, “And I don’t think you're qualified to comment on my relationships or how I’ve hurt people before. Haley dumped you and then died because of you. So I can think of at least one woman who’s been treated worse because of a Hotchner and it wasn’t me.”

What Sean said made Aaron see red for a second. He stood, towering over Sean who was still sitting. It was one thing to have Sean bring up their parents, it was one thing to call him a workaholic and be emotionally unavailable. He knew these faults already. It didn’t really hurt him to hear them again, but the comment about Haley ate at him like acid on flesh. He had tried. He had tried so hard with Haley. He had loved her. He’d loved her with everything there was in him, and yes, it wasn’t enough, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love her. That her brutal death hadn’t torn him open sinew by sinew. Aaron felt his heart pumping in his ears. He was biting his tongue so hard that he tasted iron in his mouth. His fingernails dug into the calloused skin of his palms. If Sean was anyone else but his family, he would hit him. However, after all the abuse Aaron had seen, he made a promise to himself that he would never be violent with his family. It took everything in Hotch to uphold that promise. When Aaron came back to his senses, he realized he was standing. It was a good thing as Aaron grabbed his jacket and moved away from the table. He looked at Sean like he didn’t know him as he said, “Don’t ever call me again,” and walked out the door.

The first hour of the drive back to Quantico was filled with a silence so oppressive that Aaron felt it weighing him down like an iron vest. The next hour all Aaron could think about was what Sean had said, and how he had responded. It wasn’t a good feeling. The way he’d ended things, but he wasn’t sure what else he would or could have done at such a cruel statement. If Sean could say something like that to him, to his face, then he felt justified with his final words of their conversation, even if Aaron had seen shame slowly creep up Sean’s face as he realized what he’d said. What Aaron ended up feeling for the rest of the hour was grief. Grief not only for missing Haley but for what felt like a death in his and Sean’s relationship.

Hotch would have liked to drive all the way home, get another stiff drink, take a hot shower, and sleep, but the fact that he had a drink and it was still a long way off from home made that an impossibility. Aaron checked his gas tank. He did need a top-up and he hadn’t seen a station for miles, however, he approached what looked like a small bar nestled in the middle of nowhere. He slowed slightly and looked at the exterior of the old wooden building with a wrap-around porch. The Coors Light and Miller Light neon signs fighting to be seen in the bright daylight gave away that it was a bar and not some old building with a few cars parked outside. Hotch knew he needed a bathroom and this was going to have to do. It would be in and out. He’d grab a beer so he didn’t look like he was just there to relieve himself; even if that was the case.

Aaron pulled into the parking lot. His hands tapped the wheel restlessly as he picked one of the many empty spaces. Something in his gut felt off, but he blamed it on the argument. As good as he was with dealing with stress, this was different. Hotch dropped his head for a second and tried to get his bearings. When he’d taken a deep breath, he raised his head and unbuckled his seatbelt, opened his door, and swung his feet out onto the gravel of the parking lot. The stones crunched under his tread. Hotch stepped up the three stairs onto the wooden porch. He could tell the building had seen much better days. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was rot in the wooden beams that smelled of pine sap. Hotch opened the door which creaked on rusty hinges, as soon as he stepped into the dim, ill-lit room, Aaron knew that he had made a mistake. There there were five patrons and the bartender scattered around the small space. Three of the big burly men were sitting at the bar, and before they turned around to look at who had entered their space, Hotch could see the symbols of hate on their leather vests The antiquated flag of the South that rested above the bar solidified that this was the hangout for a very particular group of people. If he could, Aaron would have walked right back out the door. Even his more casual slacks and button-down were a far departure from the denim jeans, stained baseball caps, and leather, but it was too late, the men sitting at the bar had turned in their seats and eyed him suspiciously.

It was too late to turn around now and just walk out the door. It would look strange and there was something inside gnawing of him to investigate this space further. Call the FBI with evidence of the type of activity happening here. Not only that, but his bladder protested as well. He quickly cleared his throat and moved into the space and toward the restroom sign on the far wall. He strode with a false confidence toward the bathroom, the men turned back to their conversation but with lower voices. After Aaron relieved himself, he moved from the poorly lit room that smelled like piss. He rinsed off his hands and realized that there weren’t any paper towels, so he opted to wipe his damp palms and fingers on his pants. It wasn’t ideal, but it would do.

Moving back into the bar, Aaron stepped up to the wooden countertop next to one of the men who continued to eye him with distaste. The man behind the bar turned his gaze at the tall, broody man standing in front of him, sizing Aaron up. After an awkward moment, the barkeep asked, “What can I get you?” It was clear from the way everyone was acting that he was not welcome here. At this point, Hotch didn’t want to be here either. After letting out a low breath, Hotch replied steadily, “Just a Budlight.” The bartender nodded and grabbed a clean glass from the cups stacked up on the back side of the bar. He moved to the draft beers and filled the glass to the brim, the frothy head spilling just the smallest bit over. The man didn’t bother wiping the side of the glass dry as he added a lime to the rim. As the red-faced man sat the glass down in front of Aaron he said, “That’ll be five dollars.” Hotch nodded and pulled out his wallet. He made sure to keep his FBI ID hidden as he pulled out a ten-dollar bill. Aaron’s eye flicked up the flag on the wall, and he regretted giving this place any money. But he’d just drink his beer as fast as he could without it looking conspicuous and then get the hell out of there. He handed the man the cash who grunted and pulled out a slightly wet five-dollar bill from the tip jar. Hotch took a few sips from the drink trying to drain the glass as quickly as possible. There was no chance of taking a picture without it being obvious, but he’d call the FBI as soon as he was back in his car. In fact, as soon as he was out the door. As he was drinking, one of the men from the tables near the window moved to the bar next to Hotch.

“Another Coors Steve.” The man who had just ordered was so close to Hotch that he could smell his sweat and very clearly see his hateful tattoo. The fact that the man had that visible in this place only solidified that Aaron would never take this road again. This place seemed more than just a spot for the locals to hang out and chat over a cheap beer. Hotch was halfway through his beer and making good time when the door opened again. Aaron couldn’t help like the rest of the patrons to turn his head slightly at the entryway. Hotch felt his stomach clench as he saw who was walking in the door. All other thoughts left his mind, and his work side kicked in. Aaron knew the man walking in the door well. He’d arrested him one year ago for a litany of hate crimes. The memory of the two young men who had been killed by the man stepping up to the bar with a familiar smile made Aaron’s stomach turn. Roman Invictus LeBrant, formerly Hayden Jude LeBrant before he fell down the alt-right pipeline and joined a hate group was a hard person to forget.

Roman noticed Aaron too. He was the man who had put him away for a year and two months of hell. Half of his time in prison had been spent in isolation for his protection as he kept picking fights with the inmates. Thanks to the fact that Roman had no spine and didn’t want to spend any time in jail, he had ratted out all of his co-conspirators and so-called ‘friends.’ Due to this, he had gotten off with a lighter sentence. The very sight of Agent Hotchner shot a bolt of rage through him. Roman’s face broke into a malicious smile. This time the tall and sauve FBI agent was on his turf, with his people. He didn’t have all of his friends to back him up. The man moved up to the bar with confidence. Everyone in the room's attitude shifted as their chosen leader entered their space. The man sitting next to Aaron quickly got up and made room for the man. Everyone also stood at the sheer presence of the man that they so revered. He stepped between Aaron and his friend. Roman looked at Steve and then to his left saying, “Steve, Dan. How are you motherfuckers?” The felon was so close to Aaron that he was brushing his thigh. The lack of personal space was meant to disturb Hotch, but it wasn’t working. Aaron had set down his glass, his eyes facing forward with a determined gaze. The fact was, as quickly as Roman had gotten out of prison, he had began his normal campaign of terror again. After that the man had made himself very hard to find, and to the top of the FBI’s most wanted list. So Hotch had a responsibility to make sure Roman got put back where he belonged. Unfortunately, Aaron couldn’t just whip you his phone and get the FBI here in an instant, and Roman knew this and was enjoying it.

The bartender could sense the tension between Hotch and his friend but chose not to speak. Roman looked straight ahead as well saying, “Hotchner.” Aaron replied, “LeBrant” in greeting. Aaron could feel his gut clench with worry. There was little he could do right now. Roman had come in the front door and was well aware that he was alone, so Hotch was left with not much more than his wits. He had his small pistol on his left ankle, but reaching for that would do little good as everyone in the bar was probably armed. Roman finally addressed the bartender saying, “Steve, I’ll take a shot of whiskey and one for my agent friend too.” At the word agent, the whole room's attitude shifted again. It was tense before, but now that they knew a fed was in their midst, the tension turned to simmering anger and fear.

Aaron knew that there wasn’t much worse than to be in a room full of people like LeBrant who were angry and afraid. Steve let out a chuckle and poured two generous double shots and placed one in front of Aaron and one in front of LeBrant. Aaron wearily looked at the drink and Roman took him with a single swig before turning to Hotch for the first time saying, “Aaron, I don’t think that drink is poisoned as I just had one myself, so drink up. I think you’re going to need it for what’s coming next.” Aaron met Roman’s hateful gaze, raised his shot glass, and said sarcastically, “To your health,” before downing the shot. The dark liquor burned down his throat and he stopped himself from coughing. As Hotch kept his face straight LeBrant asked, “So, have you liked my recent work? I’d think this is a sting operation on the FBI’s part, but you’re looking pretty alone from where you’re sitting right now.” The large man’s words were true as the group of men in the bar had all slowly started surrounding Aaron and cutting off any escape plans he might try and make.

Aaron was racking his brains for a way out of this situation but the repetition of the question, “Didn’t you like my stunt at that church, Agent? Didn’t it get your blood flowing? It certainly had me, excited.” Hotch cringed at the implication and replied, “I find little to be excited about to send a sixteen-year-old suicide bomber into a church filled with people, mostly women and children.” Roman scoffed and nodded at Steve for a beer bottle. Aaron shifted in his chair slightly which had an impact as everyone, including Steve, pulled guns on him. Everyone, except LeBrant that was. He was the king of his castle and he knew he would be protected no matter what. Roman raised his hands and said, “Easy boys. Take it easy. We don’t want things to get messy, just yet at least.” Hotch swallowed thickly and Roman grabbed the bottle off of the bar, looking at the label before quickly whipping it above his head and over the back of Aaron’s skull.

The sound and feeling of the ice-cold beer and the shards of glass colliding with Hotch’s head was so intense that it knocked him off his chair. Aaron took in a sharp breath as he closed his eyes as the alcohol streamed down his head and wetted his hair and the collar of his shirt. Closing his eyes didn’t help Aaron much with keeping a handle on the situation as he leaned heavily forward against the bar before being wrenched back by serval hands on his body to the center of the room.

Aaron stumbled as he was led away from any support. He could hear a few low laughs at his condition but was more worried about what was going to happen next. Hotch opened his eyes to see the floor swimming in front of his eyes. Before he could even get his feet under him, a knee met painfully with his groin. The pain of the glass tearing open his scalp and the feeling of warm blood flowing from his head was surpassed by the acute pain emanating from his nether regions up his body. Aaron grunted with pain and screwed his eyes shut again. The hot, large hands fondling a sensitive area of Hotch’s body had him open his eyes again.

He wasn’t surprised that it was Roman doing the fondling, thankfully at this point over his clothes. LeBrant spat in Aaron’s face as they made eye contact and Roman’s hand slowed as he said, “How do you like that Hotchner? How does it make you feel?” Aaron’s gaze hardened and he refused to reply to LeBrant’s taunts and demeaning actions. The gruff man gave Aaron’s groin a hard squeeze before stepping back. Hotch had just started to catch his bearings, when he realized he was being supported on either side of his body by two men with the rest of the gang stepping in front of him. His eye caught that his only gun had been taken. Roman, like a shark circling a bleeding victim in the ocean, hoping to get some sort of fearful response. When the man didn’t get one he snarled and pulled out a jack-knife and moved back to Aaron’s face flashing the point of the blade dangerously close to his skin. Still, Hotch didn’t flinch and Roman flicked the knife over Hotch’s cheek drawing fresh blood apart from the red liquid slowly causing Aaron’s vision to be disabled. Hotch naturally pulled back and Roman laughed before saying, “How would you like me to blind you, Aaron? Or cut off one of your ears. Do you think the FBI will still want you after that?” Aaron couldn’t stop himself from coughing out in pain as the men holding him tightened their grips on his forearms.

Roman was happy with his enemy's position, as bloody drool slipped from his mouth and onto the floor of the bar. LeBrant stepped back and stated, “Boys, if you want to have some fun you can. You can blame Agent Hotchner for locking me up for a few years, so why don’t you pay him back in kind? Now, no serious boldly harm, and not too much blood. You’ll have to clean this shit hole up after the mess you make of him, but enjoy for a bit.” Hotch raised his head to look at Roman defiantly, hoping to show that he still wasn’t afraid. Whatever he had planned for him, he still didn’t regret putting him away, and putting him away again. LeBrant met Aaron’s stern brown eyes and sat back at the bar, grabbing another drink like nothing was happening. The man said over his shoulder as the real beating began, “You’re welcome for the whiskey, Hotchner.”

LeBrant managed to down two more beers while watching and listening with a sick satisfaction to Aaron as he got punched, spat on, had drinks splashed in his face, and forced down his throat. Hotch gaged as another bottle was cast aside and hit the wall with the sound of shattered glass. He was beyond the point of silence as he took blow after blow to his face and torso. Aaron was sure his nose was broken as he took another hit to the face and his nose radiated pain through his nasal bridge and up his skull. He grunted in pain as his ribs got another beating. If pulverizing him to death was the plan, then the men surrounding him were doing a good job at that. However, what these bruisers weren’t very good at, and apparently Roman wasn’t good at noticing either, was that Aaron’s DNA was getting spread everywhere in the room from his saliva on the shattered beer bottles, or his blood dripping on the floor, or his hair which had been harshly pulled to jerk his head up. That was the thing about groups like these, they loved to act tough and strong, but their brains weren’t aways fully used. People like LeBrant could use others as a shield, but no matter what happened, it was going to be hard to get rid of every trace Aaron would leave in the space.

Hotch’s hold on consciousness was becoming harder, but he managed to notice when the front door opened again. Aaron had hoped it would be someone who was an outsider like him, someone who didn’t belong here. But the normalcy of seeing a man being beaten told Aaron the new man was part of the group. Hotch’s neck hurt as he made eye contact with the man. He had sandy blond hair and clear grey eyes. The look of surprise and innocence quickly left the young man’s face before anger and hatred took over. Aaron dropped his head not sure what was happening but unable to support his own head. Because of this, he didn’t fully understand why the arms that were holding him up suddenly slacked and there was a heavy scuffle of feet as the floor came dangerously close. Before he could reach the ground there was shouting and then a loud popping sound that Aaron realized was a bullet once he felt a searing hot pain tear through his side whipping his body back and to the ground. The pain was worse than anything Aaron had already felt before now. The pain was so bad that he struggled to get oxygen in and his vision went black for a few seconds before he took a huge choking gulp of air in which only blinded him with more pain.

While Hotch was writhing on the ground trying to get a grasp of what had happened and not blacking out, the older, more seasoned members of Roman’s gang stood for a brief moment of silence, as the men realized what had happened before an uproar started. They dropped their victim and rushed to the newest person in the bar throwing the gun from his hand. Roman stumbled out of his chair, face turning red with rage as he took a breath and shouted at the top of his lungs, “What the fucking hell are you doing Davies? What the mother fucking hell!” Spittle flew from his mouth and Davies, the newest, and youngest recruit to LeBrants' cause swallowed nervously. He hadn’t expected this response. He thought he’d get praise for his actions as he was always told to take bigger steps and take risks for the cause. Greg, one of the senior circles slapped Davies in the face and said, “Roman’s talking to you. Answer him.” Davies stuttered as he said, “That’s the guy that put you away. I thought that I should put him where he belonged. Hanged from a noose or underground. I ain’t got no rope, so I shot the fucker.” Davies was all in and zealous for the group's beliefs and in his case. Roman bowed his head and muttered “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” under his breath.

LeBrant came back to the moment when Aaron let out a soft whimper and placed his hand over his stomach where blood was pooling dangerously fast beneath him and onto the ground. Even in his agonizing state, Aaron knew that the most important thing was to try and stop the flow of blood as much as possible. If it was instinct or training, Hotch couldn’t be sure with the pain he was in. For now, all he could do was try and survive. Roman was thinking the same thing for himself as a multitude of options flashed in front of his mind. He was the leader and he needed to act like one as Davies looked at him like a deer in the headlight while the rest of his men glanced uneasily between Aaron’s hunched-up body on the floor and their leader.

Roman cleared his throat and took a more secure stance, with his feet apart and chest out. An idea was forming in his mind and he just needed his people to fall in line. Roman looked at Davies first and said, “It’s alright son. You did well shooting the fed. He earned it.” With those words, the men seemed to relax a bit and one knelt down next to Hotch to see the damage. Roman nodded a self-soothing gesture before saying, “Okay. Steve. Get us a trash bag or something to stop the blood so it will be easier to clean. Let’s do that first.” Steve rummaged through his back bar and tossed a roll of saran wrap and tape to Greg. Hank another senior member moved next to Greg and asked Roman, “Are we saving his ass?” LeBrant scoffed and replied, “Funk no. Just don’t want the fucker bleeding all over. Now, wrap him up tight, and don’t make it too comfortable on him either.” Hank snorted back laughter and he pulled Aaron’s torso off the floor roughly. Hotch tried uselessly to stop anyone from removing his hands from the gunshot wound, but he was too weak to put up a fight. His large hands were slick with blood as he tried and failed. Greg took out the plastic wrap and pushed the roll to Hotch’s stomach causing Aaron to groan out in pain. The pair on the floor moved the roll over the agent's wound minimally stopping the flow of blood. Davies watched as Aaron convulsed in pain on the ground.

The young man had thought he would feel better killing a fed, but what he was seeing was making him want to vomit instead. When the seran wrap was taped tight over Hotch’s blood-soaked shirt Roman instructed, “Greg, Hank, Davies, go take Agent Hotchner into the woods. Far away. I’d recommend the national park. Don’t kill him. Let him bleed out or better yet, let some animal finish him off. Take him in his car and then when you’ve dumped the body torch the car.” Everyone else, we’re cleaning this place, top to bottom. No drop of blood, nothing can be found here.” Everyone nodded and took on their roles quickly.

Hotch was jerked back to consciousness as he was dragged out the front door. He blearily saw someone open the door to his SUV before he was placed in the back seat. His brain was thinking of trying to run, to call for help, but he was stripped of his phone and hardly had the strength to keep his eyes open. Davies was standing outside the car still not sure what to do exactly, and most certainly not sure how to feel. Roman looked out the window at the man that had the potential to fuck his life over again. He turned to Steve and said, “Go out there and kill Davies. Headshot, make it fast, and don’t let him suffer.” Steve looked up at Roman and said astoundedly, “Roman?” LeBrant turned to Steve and said, “You heard me. The kid’s a liability. I am not going back to that shit fucking hell hole of a prison cell, and Davies seems to be trying to send me there, so go out there and get the job done. Put his body in the truck with Hotchner and tell Greg and Hank when they set the car on fire to leave Davies's body in there.”

It was with blind adoration that Steve hesitantly grabbed his rifle and stepped outside. The young man was still standing while looking at Aaron’s SUV as Greg and Hank looked at a map to decide where to drop Aaron off to have his last few moments of life. They were arguing about accessibility, getting the car in without being seen, and lugging the agent out into the middle of the surrounding forest. It had to be just right without the chance of anyone catching them but still able for two men to pull off alone. They didn’t trust Davies for shit. He was too green for the whole operation. Not trustworthy in their eyes.

Meanwhile, Aaron had gathered some of his bearings in the back seat. He was unhappy with his supine position in the back. It would be far too easy for him to be taken out quietly and quickly after the SUV had pulled away from the bar. While Aaron was waiting for something to happen, he pressed his left hand to his side tightly, grit his teeth, and used his right to slowly inch himself up to a seated position. He was well aware that this position was causing him to bleed out faster, but at this stage, life didn’t seem too long, and if he was going to go out, he would understand as much as he could as to what was happening around him, and if possible, leave traces for the team to find his body after.

The thought hurt Hotch as Jack would lose both of his parents. Aaron held himself back from crying, but the idea of his son being alone tore at him just as badly as the hole in his torso did. Aaron did not expect to see what he did. Just as his eyes got high enough to see out the window, the young man who had shot him had his name called from the porch of the establishment. Davies was about five feet from the bar and turned around. He didn’t see the shotgun in Steve’s hand, but Aaron did. There was nothing Hotch could do but close his eyes just before the blood splatter and brain matter painted the tires of his car. Aaron fell back onto the seat, not expecting to see an execution like that. He was too beaten to get back up, but at least he was laying on his side instead of on his back which would afford him a look out the front window so he could see where he was going or try and make mental notes of some landmarks; assuming that he wasn’t going to be blindfolded. From the state of things outside and groups shouting at each other, Hotch didn’t think that those dumping him would do anything more than take him far out and drop him.

A few moments later the back door was opened again and several men heaved Davies's body onto the floor in the back of the car. Aaron didn’t focus on the body apart from unintentionally seeing what was left of what had been a youthful face. He was unrecognizable now. Hotch closed his eyes and tried to steel himself for the ride to come. If he survived long enough he’d think about the man on the floor -- later, much later. Right now he centered his head on Jack, then on the team who were on a case in Ohio. Lastly, he tried his best to listen to Hank and Greg as they got in and revved the engine.

They were silent as they slowly drove out of the parking lot. The crunch of gravel and Aaron’s labored breathing punctuated the silence. It was clear to Aaron that the two men in the front were remaining quiet so Aaron wouldn’t have any more details about them, their plans, or the organization. He and the BAU had taken Roman down once, and they didn’t want to be in that frying pan again. As they hit the main road, Greg, who was driving, stayed just at the speed limit to not attract any attention from passing cars even though there were none on the road. However, as the car started hitting bumps, Aaron couldn’t hold in his pained grunts and whimpers as searing pain shot through him with each unexpected dip or rise in the SUV. It seemed that Aaron’s pained sounds were too much for the men, and they looked at each other and then the downed agent in the rearview mirror before they both started a light conversation that was fully juxtaposed to the gruesome scene around them.

The men began talking about the weather and then talked about their wives. Aaron could hardly hear the conversation as he tried to keep himself awake. The duration of the car ride took about half an hour, and Aaron noticed one very strange-looking tree that had been struck by lightning and bifurcated down the center almost perfectly. His brain had started to be pulled into so many different directions as his sanity slipped away from the blood loss. His brain wondered how many trees like that got struck annually, and he knew that Spencer would have an answer to that question. The team flashed before his mind when an abrupt halt of the car almost had Hotch fly into the seatbacks in front of him. He managed to not have that happen, and shortly after Greg and Hank were at the left side of the car and both grunted as they pulled Aaron by the legs out of the car.

Hotch almost hit the muddly path, but the two men held onto his underarms jostling him back to awareness. As strong as these men thought they were, they hadn’t realized just how hard it was to drag a limp body around, and Aaron had no strength to walk on his own feet and no desire to help in his own demise. In fact, if he could make it harder for them, he would. So Aaron coughed and made sure that some of his spit and blood got on the ground. Not only that but he also dug his toes into the earth so his tennis shoes left little trails in the mud. Hotch knew that if he was dealing with a more competent group, they would do something about this now, but Greg and Hank were too busy hauling him along to care at the moment. Greg was significantly taller than Hank and due to this, Aaron’s left side was far lower to the ground making the weight distribution of his toned body uneven. After only ten minutes, once the trio had entered what seemed to be a secluded and wooded part of the forest, the shorter man who was carrying the greater bit of weight grunted out, “Let’s dump him here. I can’t keep doing this and then have to trash a car too.” Greg, who was also tired agreed and they dropped Aaron like a load of bricks and took off as quickly as they could discussing loudly that there was a cliff face nearby and it was unlikely that anyone would find Aaron for days. Hotch moaned slightly and took in the scent of the wet earth near him. He supposed that dying in the forest, in nature, wasn't the worst place to go. It smelled nice and if he could only turn over he’d see the sky and canopy of trees above him once more. As his vision started fading again he realized he might not have that chance.

Nearby Aaron’s dump site, y/n had been on a four-day long backpacking trip. They’d asked their boss for the Friday and Monday off months ago. y/n had needed a chance to unwind, be alone, and potentially scream into the void. That type of behavior didn’t normally fly in their apartment and they were feeling so much more at peace after their first day of hiking. y/n had found a lovely spot to set up their small one-person tent for the evening. When y/n had gotten up the next morning and looked down the tall rock ravine, they saw the bolts in the wall from previous climbers. They regretted that it had rained the last night making any climbing impossible. y/n considered continuing moving along the twenty-five mile trail they had mapped two months before, but realized that they weren’t with a group and they were already almost halfway through the trail and could finish hiking it in a full day. Because of this, and because y/n had promised to do whatever they felt like on this trip, they decided to stay in that spot for the day. It was a bit off the beaten track which is what they wanted and in all honesty real life had been so stressful recently that just taking a day to sleep, read, and swim in the nearby river sounded like exactly what y/n needed.

y/n slept in another hour before making a cup of _c/t_. While they sipped their steaming cup, they picked up their most recent book and took a few minutes absorbing the pages of the story making small mental notes about where the plot might go and if some twist was coming in the next chapter. Somehow all the books that y/n read ended up having weird twists that they loved to hate. After getting through their drink and feeling warmed, y/n changed into light hiking attire that could be stripped down for a dip in the lake as long as the water wasn’t too cold or full of bramble from the rain last night. It was a short hike down to the water's edge and it was crisp, but not too cold to for a midday swim. y/n laid a towel down on the rocky shore after getting out of the water and drying off in the warmth of the sun. They dozed on and off as they tanned for a bit. Not that y/n was a vain person, but with the oncoming of summer, having a bit of a tan couldn’t hurt. When y/n was happy with their time by the lake, they moved back toward their tent and supplies which they had put in a bear bag and lifted high above the ground. It was about a thirty minute walk back to the tent when y/n would plan on what to do with the rest of their free day.

It felt wrong to just waste such a pretty day. When y/n was close to their campsite, they stopped in their tracks abruptly. The sound of voices and heavy footsteps is what made them halt. y/n’s stomach dropped for some reason. If they were on a more well-known trail or popular camping site, y/n would likely greet those on their walk in the opposite direction. But this was different. This area was secluded, off the beaten track. And from the sound of it, it was two men moving slowly nearby. y/n had spent enough time outside camping and backpacking to hear loads of horror stories of those having bad things done to them on the trail. Sure some of them were overembellished, but certainly not all of them, and y/n wasn’t willing to take the risk with their own safety. y/n slinked back into the brush and hoped that the men would stop before catching sight of their tent. y/n took slow soft breaths and waited, all there was to do was wait. Just as the footsteps seemed to be right on them, they stopped.

y/n couldn’t see the men. They’d stopped just out of sight. As they stopped, y/n realized that something was very, very wrong. The strong breathing of the men had hidden the sounds of another person. Someone who was clearly in pain. Their breathing was raspy like air wasn’t fully supplying their body. There was also a very painful-sounding grunt as the injured party hit the ground. One of the men said, “Fuck, that’s hard work. I don’t believe Roman’s stories now about all his brawls and picking people up in the clanger now.” There was a grunt and another, deeper voice replied, “Shit man, I don’t believe half of his crap, but he’s the boss. He says jump and I jump. Now let’s get back to the car and torch it. The agent here won’t last long.” The first voice agreed and said, “Yeah. I need a shower and another beer. Let’s hope it’s all cleaned up by the time we get back to Steve’s.”

y/n felt like they couldn’t stand still any longer. The desire to take a deep breath of just look out to see what was happening at the men who were talking pulled at them like an itch. But not all itches should be scratched. Some needed to not be disturbed, and it felt like torture, but y/n held back from moving until the sound of chatter and footsteps were long gone. Even after they were out of audible range, y/n waited. After another few restless minutes, they got up from their hiding position. From the sound of it, someone, perhaps someone unsafe was very injured. Even so, it wasn’t like y/n to leave someone hurt to fend for themself. With caution, y/n moved through the low brush and mud, and after a few paces, they noticed a man lying on his stomach. It didn’t take y/n more than a second to realize that the man on the ground, even if he was some hardened criminal, was unable to fight. Besides this fact, there was the comment about the “Agent not being around long,” so the man might have been on the opposite side of crime. Without hesitation y/n moved next to the prone form in the mud and set down their backpack. The man gave a small sound, perhaps aware that there was someone else near him. y/n looked over the man and noticed the saran wrap around his torso. It was a poor attempt to staunch the flow of blood from a bullet wound. Given how much blood the man had lost, there was no time to lose in getting the man medical help.

y/n knelt down next to the man and noted the thick blood coating his forehead and brow. y/n patted his shoulder, and he managed to open his eyes. Aaron could see the blurry figure of someone kneeling in front of him. He thought it was a hallucination until they touched his shoulder and tried to say something to him. Understanding the stranger's words was beyond all comprehension to him now. y/n could tell that he didn’t understand or see them well, but at least he was awake. It would be in his best interest to keep him awake. If the man slipped off to sleep, he may never wake again. So with that in mind, and to try and keep him in as calm a mindset as possible, y/n took off their jacket which they had tied around their waist, and placed it on the man’s back. It would do for a bit of padding and something to soak up the excess blood. There was no need to cut this side of the plastic wrap, and why it had been added in the first place was a mystery. But that wasn’t the main goal right now. The main goal was to stabilize the man for long enough until medical help arrived. y/n grit their teeth and said firmly. “I’m going to roll you over onto your back and then run to my tent and grab some supplies while I call 9-1-1 for you, okay.”

The man didn’t make a sound, but y/n knew that shifting his weight was going to be painful, so they didn’t waste more time. Given the man’s parlor, there was no time to waste. y/n grabbed the man’s shoulder and hip and tried to slowly and carefully roll him onto his back. As soon as y/n pulled their hands away, which were slick with blood, the man groaned in pain as his body settled. He was still awake. y/n cringed to hear him and said, “I’m going to run to my camp, get some supplies, and call in an emergency helicopter. I’ll be back in five minutes max.” y/n swallowed thickly trying not to be sick at the sight of the man. They grabbed his right hand and placed it over the bullet hole. The man’s hand was crusted over with blood, and it was large. His fingernails had dirt caked under them, and y/n imagined that it might be painful when he got washed up with all the hair his arms had on them. y/n snapped back to the moment. It had only been a millisecond, but in moments of high stress, they always found themselves focusing on the smallest, most insignificant things. They shifted their eyes to the man’s and he seemed to be locked on theirs. y/n nodded their head and said, “Hold your hands here, as hard as possible, okay.” The man nodded slightly, and with that, y/n got up and ran toward their campsite.

It was in moments like these that y/n hated that they didn’t always carry their cell phone with them when they camped alone, but then again, they hadn’t expected to find themselves in this situation either. y/n was an experienced outdoors person. With friends and family that respected and highlighted being self sufficient and being able to take care of one’s self. In their world being unable to handle any situation was a weakness and therefore y/n had pressed themselves to always be prepared. This included knowing basic first aid and other skills that were more niche to their interest in spending a lot of time outside. Although it had been hard to be a parental figure and having to figure out being self-sufficient from a very young age, the parentification had equipped y/n for moments like these, and for meeting strange men in the woods if it ever came to that. y/n ran as quickly and as carefully as possible. It would be no good to anyone if they slipped and twisted or broke an ankle or wrist before getting back to the man. The image of his bloody and bruised body was seared in their retinas. They hadn’t seen anything this bad, ever, and the questions on what had happened to the man and who he was came faster than y/n could process them. It was all a sickening blur. y/n made it to their camp and almost dove into their tent. They found their phone first which was still on the solar-powered charging brick. y/n checked for a signal and let out a small prayer of thanks that there was a signal. Even though they were pretty far out, a signal was more often present than not. And if there wasn’t, there were always ways to contact emergency services, but it would take longer, and there wasn’t time for longer right now.

After one ring the emergency operator answered, “9-1-1, please state your name and the nature of your emergency.” The woman on the phone sounded calm, calmer than y/n felt. Their breath had picked up with all the running, and they had to clear their throat before saying, “My name in y/n, _l/n_. I’m at Shenandoah National Park on the east side camped near Ghost View Lake. There’s a man who needs a Medevac as soon as possible. He’s been shot in the torso, and he’s been severely beaten.” There were a few clicks on the other end of the line and the responder asked, “Are you with this man now? Is he still breathing?” y/n nodded, taking in the person’s words before saying, “I’m not with him right now. He was breathing when I left him. I had to run to my tent to call you and get my emergency supplies.” There was more typing and a muffled voice on the other end of the line before the woman came back on saying, “Please get back to the man as quickly as possible. Do you have any medical training?” y/n nodded saying, “Some, but not much. The bullet seems to have gone clean through though, and he’s lost a lot of blood.” As y/n was speaking, they began packing all of the important things to help the hurt man into their large backpack. By the time they had started zipping up the sides, the operator had told y/n to get back to the Hotch and light a flare for the helicopter to see so they could find a spot to land. The woman relayed that it might be twenty minutes or more before help came, and to keep the man awake if possible. As y/n ran back toward Aaron, they were given more specific instructions on what to do once they were back. y/n kept the woman on the line and as soon as they found an open and dry spot close to where they had found Aaron, they pulled out a flare and struck it against the cap of the flare. Once the melting hot red light burst from the tip like the tale of a demon, they set the flare on a smooth rock, far enough away from the wet brush and leaves to not start a forest fire. Once this was done, y/n moved as quickly as possible back to the man.

Since y/n had been gone, Aaron felt his strength ebb again. Had the person said something to him? The world was dark again and he was beginning to feel numb. But the memory of the feelings of their hands on his, pressing against his stomach reminded him that they had been real, at least for a moment. Hotch also knew that sleep was death, and therefore grit his teeth and pressed against his torso again over his wound. The pain shot through him again, though his time was less intense; he knew this was not a good sign. Just as Aaron felt his hand slipping, he noticed a bright red light in the corner of his vision, and the person who had been with him before returned.

y/n skidded to a halt in front of the man, falling to their knees saying, “Hey, you’re still with me. Good. You’re doing good. Help is coming, I promise.” y/n placed their hands on either side of his head and the feeling of their fingers on the side of his face had Hotch open his eyes slightly. Just the simple feeling of touch was a comfort, even if he was doomed to bleed out on the forest floor. Hotch pondered how funny small things became huge things when life was about to end. y/n noticed his brown eyes on them and said, “I’m just making sure your head is laying flat. Then I’m going to check your mouth to make sure you’re not going to choke on your own blood.” Aaron tried to nod, but he couldn’t manage it. y/n knelt further forward and helped Aaron open his mouth. Thankfully there didn’t appear to be any blockage of his trachea, though his breathing was labored. Where or what that situation was, was beyond y/n, so they moved to the next thing the emergency operator had said to do.

The woman was still on the phone, but y/n was so hyper-focused on the task in front of them, that they didn’t think to give a report on the man’s condition. While he was trying to see the person in front of him more clearly, y/n started pulling things out of their backpack and setting them on the ground, attempting to not get them muddy or contaminated while still being efficient. Once y/n had pulled out their small knife, their first aid kit, and the clean clothes they had, they rezipped their bag and moved to the man’s feet. y/n spoke loudly, so the man could possibly hear, “I’m going to raise your feet. Keep the blood going to your head as much as possible. y/n grabbed their bag and placed it just to the side of the man’s lower legs. y/n didn’t want to shift the man’s body much, if at all, so they had to have things in place. They took another sturdy breath and lifted his left leg just high enough to move their backpack under his knees. The man groaned and y/n said, “I’m sorry. Sorry,” y/n repeated one more time before moving the other leg next to the first. y/n knew that this would be the least of the man’s pain. y/n placed their hands on the ground and took another stabilizing breath, reminding themselves that they could do this. That they could do anything, that they had had to do everything. y/n tried to picture the man as someone they’d protected in the past. Someone that they would do anything for. This helped y/n in moving forward to the next step. Before doing what needed to be done, y/n looked at the man again, tapping his face. Those big brown eyes met theirs again, half understanding, half sad. y/n said more softly this time. “This is going to hurt. I’m sorry. Try not to bite your tongue. Keep your teeth clenched,” y/n demonstrated, “like this.” y/n they looked a fool, but what else could they do?

y/n pulled a packaged sanitary wipe from the ground and ripped it open. They rubbed it over their hands thoroughly. When the moisture had evaporated, y/n grabbed their first aid kit and pulled out all of the cotton balls and cotton bandages that were inside. y/n placed them on top of the kit and hoped the no wind would blow the supplies away, there were already scant few as it was. Next, y/n grabbed their knife and opened it with a flick of the wrist. y/n knew that once they made the next move there was no going back until the medics arrived. With a look of determination, y/n shifted forward and carefully slipped the tip of the knife under the plastic wrap covering the man’s front. His shirt protected his skin from the sharp blade from cutting him further, and y/n cut up and out with as much care as possible. The blood made the surface of the saran wrap slippery in y/n’s free hand and the multiple layers were not as easy to cut through. However, after what felt like an eternity and with y/n’s heart beating loudly in their ears, the plastic was freed from his body. y/n quickly closed and locked their blade and pushed the plastic barrier aside along with Hotch’s soiled shirt. Even though the saran wrap hadn’t done much to stop the blood from leaving the man’s body, it’s removal along with the final absorption barrier being pulled aside allowed the blood to ebb up a bit more in a trickle of crimson. Again y/n didn’t have time to look at the deep red pooling up on the man’s stomach. Instead, they grabbed a cotton ball and with as much mental strength as they had, pushed it into the weeping wound. The man’s body jolted in pain, but y/n ignored him and grabbed another piece of cotton and then another, pushing each of the white puffs into the bullet hole. The clean cotton was instantly stained red, and y/n tried to ignore the man’s cries of pain knowing that this was for the best. Keep the blood in the body, get his legs up, keep him awake. That was what the nurse had said and what was what they were going to do. At least to the best of their ability. Another eternity later, the hole was filled. It was still releasing blood but at a slower pace.

y/n grabbed the biggest cotton bandage they had and pressed it on top of the packed wound. y/n placed both hands over this last dam, and pressed down to try and keep the man stable. To keep him alive. It wasn’t until all of this had been accomplished that they managed to look up at his face. The man’s eyes were drooping closed and y/n said, “Hey, hey, stay with me. What’s your name? Can you tell me your name?” Aaron turned his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look at the person helping him. It was a comfort to be in their presence. He still couldn’t see them so he said in a low voice, “Hotchner.” y/n nodded, assuming it was a last name. They were at a loss for what to say next. Nothing felt right, so they opted for questions, easy ones. Or at least ones that seemed easy for them. “Hi, Mr. Hotchner. Where were you going today? What brought you this way.”

Aaron, whose brain had been feeling numb for some time, had started getting more blood circulation thanks to his legs being lifted off the ground. He could feel his helper's hands still over his side. Where he was and what was happening felt beyond him again. He didn’t like the feeling at all, but his body was shutting down and he half-mumbled, “I’m going to see my wife. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.” y/n, nodded and replied softly, “I’m sure she’ll be so happy to see you. And I know you’ll be happy to see her.” It wasn’t until this point that y/n had thought about him as a person. Not actually as a person, person, but as a man with a life and things outside this very moment of survival. But as they raised one hand and just barely shifted his hair that was caked with blood, off his forehead it became increasingly more difficult to see Mr. Hotchner as anything else than a man who is hurt and probably afraid to die. At the person’s touch, Aaron moved his dominant hand up and this allowed y/n to see that he wasn’t wearing a ring. This fact only came to y/n’s mind because Mr. Hotchner had just said that he was going to see his wife. y/n justified that perhaps the man was just one of many many husbands who didn’t wear a wedding ring, but for some reason, y/n didn’t think that this man would be one of them. Something in their gut just said otherwise. A moment later Hotch said something that would shock y/n even more as he said, “I’m worried about Jack. I can’t go away.” y/n looked up at him and moved their hand back to the now blood-soaked bandage and asked, “Who is Jack Mr. Hotchner?”

The image of Jack passed in front of Aaron, and he saw himself holding his child, Jack smiling. Maybe it was Christmas time because the lights were twinkling in the background. Then Jack at his first soccer game came to mind, his little legs carrying him toward a ball he was sure to miss. Hotch blinked back tears as he came back to himself. Weakly he said, “My son. Jack is my son. He’s a good kid. Really good. He doesn’t deserve this.” Aaron was thinking about the very real possibility of his son losing both of his parents, but he didn’t vocalize that out loud. y/n furrowed their brow and said “You’re going to be fine Mr. Hotchner. It’s going to be okay. You’ll see your son and your wife again. I know it.” y/n was speaking to themselves now mostly. The trauma of finding someone brutalized in the woods and the possibility that he might die in front of them was finally settling in. y/n had experienced trauma before, but not like this. This was different. Thankfully y/n didn’t have much time to explore this train of thought as the sound of the helicopter approached nearby. y/n bowed their head in thanks for the sound that drowned out their thoughts and didn’t even realize that they had set their head on Aaron’s chest while still keeping their trembling hands on his wound.

When they arrived, it took the emergency medics a moment to pry y/n off of Aaron as they struggled to let the man they were trying to save go. When y/n realized what was happening, they moved off to the side on unsteady feet and watched the flight paramedics assess and then begin rudimentary efforts to stabilize their patient. y/n watched as a blood transfusion was started and the packing of the bullet wound was made better with medical-grade supplies. These things felt like a blur and as the two-person medical team began moving Aaron onto a stretcher, the sound of police sirens in the distance became audible. y/n realized that the helicopter operator had shared the patient's location and law enforcement was coming to help. This allowed y/n to relax slightly realizing that they were not going to be left alone in the woods once the Medevac was gone.

Although y/n had felt peace knowing more help was on the way, the questions seemed endless as police arrived and went over the course of the afternoon again. They pointed out everything. Said as much as they could remember and watched as the orange helicopter lifted off and moved Eastward. The last thing they heard from the trauma team at the hospital was, “We have a multisystem failure. Patient is already on a transfusion and Fentanyl…” as they passed by,. y/n’s brain now felt like scrambled eggs and they longed for some respite. Eventually, the police said that y/n would need to come to the station and that they could get a ride in one of the cruisers. Behind y/n’s back, the officers also noticed that y/n should also go to a hospital, and driving there themselves was not a safe idea for them. A few minutes later, y/n tipped their head against the headrest in the backseat of the police car simply letting things happen to them at this point. The officers had assured them that a recovery and crime scene team would gather their belongings from their campsite along with their car. This was all for evidence too, but y/n was too tired to comprehend what was being said to them.

A few hours later y/n made it out of the room they had been seen in at the hospital. It was very dark outside at this point but the police had easily identified the man they had found, Special Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner. The words ran over y/n like a wave. Anything would bowl them over now, but finding out that they had found a federal agent near death in the woods was astounding. In the hospital, y/n was given a thorough exam and then given some strong sleep medication and some Benzos so that y/n could have a sound night’s rest. The local police station had called the Quantico Field Office to let the Beaure know that Agent Hotchner was in critical condition at the JFK University Medical Center.

As it turned out the BAU was out on a case at the moment, but the Lead Team Coordinator said they would reach out. Within the hour the hospital and police station knew that a member of the BAU was flying up immediately on their jet and should be there sometime around three in the morning. With this information in mind, the police had asked y/n to stay at least one day in town before going home. The very professional-sounding man, Agent Rossi, who was headed to the hospital had asked them to stay and talk. The police had made the choice easy by booking a cab and a room to get y/n from the hospital to the hotel room they had booked in their name. Thankfully, y/n’s boss, after a few minutes of explaining what had happened, had given them the rest of the week off. y/n knew they would need it. Nothing felt quite real anymore and some more time alone would be good. Before y/n went to call the cab, to get a shower and sleep, they stopped at the receptionist's desk and asked, “Do you know if Aaron Hotchner is in a stable condition?” The nurse asked them how they knew the patient and y/n showed their own medical bracelet and explained that they had found Mr. Hotchner. The man looked at y/n and how tired they appeared, nodded, and replied, “I’m sorry, I can’t share any information about the patient” There was a long pause before they added, “However, Mr. Hotchner is still in the ICU.” y/n nodded, wanting more information but also knowing that they had already been told more than was allowed. With that scant information, y/n moved outside and caught their ride.

The first thing that was surprising to Aaron was the fact that he woke up at all. The feeling of the stiff mattress against his fingers and the crisp sheets covering his body. The sterile scent of antiseptic was the next thing he noticed. He took a few moments to just take in the fact that he had survived the ordeal with Roman. Much of what had happened after the beating in the bar was foggy and beyond his reach. He tried to take a deep breath to center himself but that was a serious error as this triggered parts of his body that weren’t ready to be used that way yet. He let out a cough only exacerbating his pain. The feelings of multiple IVs which he detected now became more apparent and when he opened his eyes, the blurry figure of someone standing came into better focus as the door to his room opened letting in more light from the hallways. As his vision cleared, he could see Dave turn around and greet someone who must have been a doctor. Rossi stepped back a bit, but just knowing Dave was here let Aaron be checked over and taken care of. He didn’t have the energy for much more than being pocked and very lightly prodded before he slipped back into unconsciousness.

The next time Hotch woke, he was more aware. The room didn’t spin and he could see Dave looking down from his seat near the hospital bed. Aaron didn’t know what to say and just said, “Hey.” At hearing Hotch, Rossi sat forward in his seat and softly replied, “Hey there. Looks like you had a hell of a time with Sean.” Sean hadn’t even crossed Aaron’s mind, but Dave’s attempt at humor while he was feeling like hell was actually funny and Aaron let out a half scoff, half laugh before leaning his head back on the pillow. It wasn’t until he tried to move the blanket to feel more covered that he realized his arm was in a cast. His whole body felt numb, and in that moment, he was grateful for opioids. Rossi moved forward and moved the blanket up and over Aaron’s shoulders. Hotch looked up at Dave and asked, “How bad?” Rossi’s eyes moved toward him, a sure sign that it wasn’t good. After a deep breath, Dave said, “You lost a lot of blood, you’re fighting an infection, concussion, broken arm, and multiple lacerations to your head and body.” Hotch nodded, absorbing the information before saying, “Yeah, Sean really did a job on me.” Rossi could see regret in Aaron’s eyes even though the statement was an attempt at a joke. Dave frowned. Something had happened with Sean and it wasn’t fair to Aaron after being through such a crucible that he should feel bad about anything at the moment. Dave thought about reaching out and patting Hotch on the shoulder, but it was likely Aaron wasn’t looking for touch right now, so he settled with telling his best friend that the team was coming to find LeBrant, who had gone into hiding, and how Jessica would bring Jack down when the doctors said it was okay. Aaron nodded again, thankful that Dave knew him so well. When Rossi had given him some time to just relax and center himself, Aaron asked, “Who was it that found me? Have you seen them?” All Aaron could remember about the person who had saved his life was that they had stayed with him. That their presence, even if he had died, had made him feel safe.

Rossi replied, “I haven’t seen them yet, though I’ve asked them to meet me here. There are some questions I still have about their report. They should arrive in a few minutes, and that way you can have some time alone if you like. I did read about them, they’re name is y/n y/l/n y/a and they live in Virginia.” Aaron swallowed, his mouth feeling dry before saying, “I’d like to see them when they come. If they’re comfortable with it.” Dave nodded and replied, “I’ll ask them when they get here. For now, just try and rest. Let me know if you need anything and I’ll get the nurse.” Aaron nodded and let his eyes slip closed again. He could sense that Dave was keeping things from him, about what he couldn’t tell, but he’d ask in time, for now, he was alive.

y/n entered the hospital again. This time it felt better. They were going to get some answers, hopefully, or at least some information about Agent Hotchern’s condition. They’d answer more questions about that information. After the last few day or so the thought of Mr. Hotchner hadn’t left their mind. y/n went to the receptionist who paged another party in the hospital and after a few minutes, an older man walked into the hallway. y/n could tell that he was Agent Rossi instantly. His clothing and demeanor gave him away, along with the deep circles under his eyes. y/n turned toward the man and extended their hand toward him. Rossi gave y/n a reassuring smile and as he took their hand said, “Hello. I’m Agent Rossi. You must be y/n y/l/n?” y/n nodded yes and said, “Yes Sir. That’s me.” Dave gave a small laugh at being called sir, and gently led y/n to a seat on the far side of the waiting room. They both took a seat and there was a moment of awkward silence as they both made mental observations about the other. Finally, y/n said, “Agnent Rossi, I’m happy to answer any questions you might have about my report, but could you tell me if Mr. Hotchner is alright?” Dave dipped his head and pulled himself together saying, “He’s doing better. He’ll have a hard and long recovery, but he’ll be alright. Hotch has gone through a lot, he’ll make it through this too.” y/n listened thinking about the type of person that can say with confidence after such an ordeal that they would make it though. It seemed like a lot, but Mr. Hotchner was clearly cut from Kevlar. y/n replied, “Thank you for telling me. Now, um, what questions did you have for me? I wrote down some notes to try and jog my memory.” Rossi lifted an eyebrow as y/n pulled a notebook from their mini backpack and flipped to a page that had a neat, color-coded timeline of events. Dave smiled at this before saying, “I would like to look at your notes, but I have some questions of another nature to ask first.”

y/n looked confused about what Rossi had said, and he clarified stating, “I’d just like to know if Aaron said anything to you while you were with him?” y/n let out a breath realizing this was a more personal visit. This was to see how his coworker was, not physically, but mentally and emotionally. y/n felt bad for not having thought of that before now and swallowed, realizing this was going to be another layer they would need to unpack within themselves as well. After this thought had passed, y/n replied softly at first, “We did kind of talk, though I did most of it to keep my mind still.” Rossi nodded encouraging y/n to continue, which they did. “I did ask him where he was going and he said that he was going to see his wife. And that he was sorry for his son. He tried to say more after that but it was all sort of jumbled up.” y/n looked up, fresh emotions welling up in them at the remorse that Mr. Hotchner had shown while he lay dying. There was a glimmer of tears in Dave’s eyes too and y/n moved a hand to his comfortingly and asked. “Agent Rossi?” to check in on him. Dave sniffled and moved a handkerchief under his eyes before squeezing y/n’s hand back replying, “Please, just call me Dave. Aaron’s wife passed a little over a year ago. I, I guess I didn’t know what he would think about, but it would make sense.”

Hearing Dave’s words, a pang of hurt shot through y/n. Suddenly Aaron’s words made more sense. He said he was going home and being sad about it. Jack’s name popped into their mind and y/n asked hopefully, “His son, Jack. He said he had a son. Is he okay? Is Jack with his mom?” Dave closed his eyes and replied reassuringly, “No. Jack is fine. He’s a sweet and hyper kid.” That thought, of Aaron’s son being there for him, made y/n feel better. It was strange for them, to have such intense and strong feelings for a man they hardly knew, but then again, they had been through a lot together. There were a few more minutes of silence as Dave processed and moved on by asking to look at y/n’s notebook and to ask questions for them. Looking at y/n’s notes and the very detailed recount they had written was precise and smart. Not perhaps like a profiler, but somewhat so. That conversation lasted about a half hour and Rossi could see that y/n was tired and he still needed to broach the topic of them seeing Aaron, so to take something off of their plate he began by saying, “y/n this has been very helpful for me, both as Aaron’s coworker and as his friend. I know you’ll need your own time to process and work through all of this but I might need to contact you again by myself or a member of my team. Would it be okay if I left you my number and I got yours?” y/f felt a hitch in their breath thinking that this might be over. All the adrenaline came to a big crash like a wave on the rocks. But it had to end sometime, at least they thought so, so they nodded yes. The pair traded numbers and then Dave said, “y/n, I know this has been a lot, but I was just with Aaron and he asked if he could speak with you if you’re up to it. If not, he’ll fully understand.”

At the suggestion, y/n’s eyes shot up in surprise. Not that they hadn’t been thinking about the man twenty-four-seven since they’d first seen him in the woods, but the idea that he would even want to see them felt like a surprise. Curiosity suddenly turned into apprehension and for a second they thought about running out of the room for some wild reason. But y/n came back to earth and knew that perhaps this would be their only time to see the man they’d helped and it would hopefully make things feel more resolved, more final. And they’d have the peace of mind of knowing that he really was alright. So y/n nodded yes and Dave gave them one of his reassuring dad smiles and got up, leading y/n toward Aroon’s room. He flashed his badge when he came across anyone looking at him funnily. At the door to Hotch’s room, Dave knocked and opened the door slightly saying, “I’ve got a visitor for you, Aaron.” There was a muffled response from inside and then Rossi stood back and said, “I’ll be just outside when you’re finished.” y/n swallowed thickly and stepped into the room.

The space was large enough for a chair or two by the hospital bed, surrounded by medical equipment that beeped on a cycle of minutes, keeping time. The lights had been dimmed and as y/n’s eyes adjusted, they took a small step closer toward the bed. Mr. Hotchner was all cleaned up from his blood-soaked state and now that he was visible, y/n couldn't help but notice how striking and attractive he was. y/n pushed that thought aside, it wasn’t the time. His dark eyes met theirs, and y/n said awkwardly, “Hello Mr., I mean Agent Hotchner, Sir.” Hotch let out a half laugh and said replied, “It’s alright, you can call me Mr. Hotchner, or just Aaron is okay.” y/n nodded listening to his deep voice. Different than how it had been in the woods. There was life in this version of him, and it made y/n feel better. y/n took another step forward, not sure what to expect.

Aaron watched y/n move forward. They were young. Younger than a normal person should have to deal with such stress and anxiety. He could see their apprehension even as they stepped close to him. Aaron cleared his throat and said, “Why don’t you have a seat, y/n.” y/n did as he said feeling the authority in his presence even as he was in bed recovering. Of course, he wasn’t directing that toward them, just that that power was there in him. It didn’t surprise y/n that he was someone important in the FBI. y/n sat in the chair closest to Aaron so they could hear him better. y/n wasn’t sure how to act now. They wanted to say they were sorry about his wife. But that was too personal. y/n opted for just asking, “Are you feeling okay?” The words sounded hollow in the face of the pain he had experienced in his life.

Hotch smiled slightly, seeing the struggle in y/n’s eyes. He was glad to see y/n. To really see them and know who they were given how they had kept him calm and feel safe a day ago. Once y/n was seated he replied, “I’ll be okay. It’s just going to take time. I wanted to see how you are doing actually.” y/n’s eyes widened slightly. Shone in the darkness of the room. Taken aback they said, “I’m… okay. I always end up being okay in the end.” Hotch nodded, seeing himself in y/n instantly. Another survivor of a difficult life. It was easy to compartmentalize, and he didn’t want that for them. Not this young. So he said again, “I hear you. But how are you, really feeling?” y/n took a deep breath and tried to suppress the emotions before saying in a shaky voice, “Tired, scared and I don’t know why.” Aaron nodded in understanding. He moved his hand toward y/n, not sure what his intentions were with that movement. Hotch replied, “You don’t have to think about it all right now. But don’t let it out with someone at some point it will eat you up. Do you think you can take this?”

y/n knew that Aaron was asking about just life in general. How overwhelming it could be after something like this. They had dealt with these feelings before, not like this, but close enough for y/n to say, “Yes. I can bounce back.” Hotch knew that response too. The bounce back. He didn’t want to pressure y/n to seek help, he’d be a hypocrite for saying so, but he worried. This person had saved his life and he didn’t want to see them crumble for it. Hotch took a moment and said, “Thank you for being there for me. I wouldn’t have made it without you.” Not really thinking he added, “You made me feel safe in that moment. I didn’t know if I was going to feel that again.” There was a long silence after his statement as they both absorbed his words. The quiet was punctuated by y/n’s quiet response of, “You’re welcome. I’m happy I could be that for you, Aaron.” y/n looked over at Hotch and could see there was something there. A bond, a name whisper on the wind, or a star. It was a flicker for just a moment and it was gone, but they had both felt it, some of the overwhelming feelings they both housed within.

In another moment Aaron said, “I’ll let you go, but I’m sure Dave has given you his number, but tell him to give mine as well. I may not be at my best right now, but if you ever need anything y/n, anything, you can give me a call.” y/n nodded and stood wondering if the last they’d ever see of Aaron Hotchner, and was at least grateful for having crossed paths with him. They brushed their hands over his hand for a moment before smiling, saying “I hope you are well soon, Aaron,” leaving the room. Aaron watched as their figure moved outside and stopped to talk to Dave for a moment then disappeared.

Rossi entered the room and asked, “Do you feel better now?” Hotch nodded and replied, “Yes. Did you give them my number?” Dave laughed and said, “Sure did, office and cell.” Aaron huffed but then said seriously, “y/n will need protection for a few weeks at least.” Rossi replied, “Already on it. Or Garcia is on it. Knowing her, y/n will be getting flowers and chocolate for life.” Hotch laughed at the truth in that statement and felt better. Yes is sucked, this sucked, and his body hurt like hell, but he was alive and things would get better. Aaron’s mind flickered back to his fight with Sean and he laid back on the bed with a groan. Dave watched and eventually, Hotch said with his eyes still closed, “Would you call Sean for me?” Rossi had Sean’s number in case of emergencies with Aaron, Jack, or Jessica. Rossi had everybody in the team's close family on that list. Dave couldn’t help but say, “Why do I have to call him, if you do will he throw his phone out the window or something?” Hotch scoffed and replied, “Just about, but I need to talk to him.” Rossi understood and took out his phone and dialed Aaron’s younger brother before handing the line over to Aaron.

Aaron had something planned to say, but Sean beat him to it saying, “I’m sorry, Aaron. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. You don’t deserve it.” Hotch let out a breath and replied as lightly as possible, “You bet I didn’t. But I want to apologize too. I got hot-headed…” Rossi motioned for Aaron to ask if he wanted him to leave the room or not. Aaron nodded his head no, and Dave settled in his chair. As Sean and Aaron spoke, and attempted in their own ways to make amends, Aaron knew that things would get better. There was family, be it Jack, Sean, or the team, and there were people out there willing to help. The image y/n smiling down at him filled him with a strange warmth, and he let the image and feeling linger as Sean went on about his day.

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webslingingslasher · 2 years

Text

Something in the Orange

Part one.

Part two will be coming soon.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Genre: angst, angst, angst.

Warnings: SAD, also talk of sex.

Word count: 10.5K

Summary: Peter did the worst thing he could've done to you, broke your heart.

Peter Parker knew you hated him.

He knew because you stopped speaking to him, not that he expected to stay best friends but to totally cut all communication was something he wasn’t ready for. And you iced him out entirely, not that he was expecting to stay attached to the hip but to ignore his entire existence was hurtful, you wouldn’t even make eye contact. If you were somehow alone in a room you would act like you were by yourself, not even thinking to acknowledge him.

Peter Parker knew you hated him and he knew he couldn’t make it right.

He thinks a lot about that night, and suddenly his reasoning went out the window. He can’t remember why he did what he did, how he could hurt you like that. It wasn’t him, he wasn’t that kind of guy, as he wanted to believe. But he was, he was the guy that hurt you, and he did do that to you. And he can’t even remember why.

“She fucking hates me.”

Peter dropped his backpack on the lunch table, his science book producing a thud where it landed. He dropped his weight on the plastic chair and hissed when the plastic pinched his back, he turned to see a crack up the seat of the chair and grumbled.

“She hates me and wants me dead.”

Peter was looking at the faces of his lunchmates, Ned and MJ. Ned, for once kept his mouth shut, that's his way of telling Peter he got what he deserved, Ned told him this a million times before. Peter was annoyed at first but then started to appreciate his words, he would imagine it was you saying it to him. MJ rolled her eyes and continued to eat her peach, “She doesn’t hate you. She’s hurt and trying to make you hurt the same way.”

Peter huffed at her. “Then it’s working. I’m torn up inside and she’s acting like I don’t exist, after chem I waved at her and she just kept walking like she didn’t see or hear me.” He leaned an elbow on the table and rested his chin on his hand. “I just wish she would look at me, or talk to me.”

“You fucking dumped her out of nowhere Peter, and for a shit reason. You’re lucky she’s not being worse to you. She should be.” Ned stood from the table with his bag and left, not even looking at Peter a second time. Peter was like a guppy, pursing his lips and stopping. He had no words to fight the statement, not that it mattered, Ned was long gone.

Peter’s eyes moved to MJ, he was hoping for some sympathy at least. Maybe some words of wisdom but she just hummed like she was agreeing with Ned. If they were your kids they would choose you in the divorce, they kind of did, but you refused to talk to them either. They were Peter’s friends first, and they reminded you too much of him.

“You know it was for a good reason right?” He hoped MJ would at least agree to that, that all this was for something. Instead, she shrugged, “I think you think it was for a good reason.” Peter looked at his backpack and sighed, his fingers coming to play at the bracelet you hooked around his zipper pocket so you could spot him better in the crowded hallways. He couldn’t imagine tearing it off, not like you did when he broke up with you. He understands what he did, but he wasn’t prepared for how serious you were going to take it. How you left a box of all his shit on the stoop outside his apartment, how he saw each photo and sweatshirt you've taken, even his spare clothes he stashed at yours were crumpled in the box. He counted each item, he noticed you didn’t keep a single one. You had washed him from you entirely.

Peter wasn’t hungry, all he kept thinking about was that night.

“Y/N, I think we should break up.” He watched as you continued to make your bed.

“Real funny, Parker.” You lent forward, smoothing out a corner.

“I’m not joking.”

His words bounced in your head. He said he would never do this.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. But, I think we need to.” Peter was looking at the ground playing with his sleeve. He couldn’t even look at you right now.

“No. I don’t want to break up.” You shook your head, where was this coming from?

“Please, just do-”

“We can still be friends.” He cut you off.

You scoffed, offended at his words.

“No. If you’re not my boyfriend you’re nothing to me. How am I supposed to forget how you loved me? How you kiss me after a bad day? How you always let me lay on you no matter how uncomfortable you are, the way our hands fit perfectly?”

You paused and took a breath, tears gathered in your eyes.

“You are breaking my heart right now Peter Parker. Do you understand that?” Your words cracked, your tears ran, and you tilted your head at him. How could he do this?

“I do.” He sighed, he held his hands, his thumb tapping against the other.

He listened to you whimper, he listened as he broke your heart.

“I’m sorry, but I have to.”

You sniffled and stood straighter, you wiped your tears away and refused to let more fall. If he was doing this to you then so would you. You were about to forget he ever existed.

“Get out of my room.”

Your words were venom. Peter had never heard you speak like that to anyone let alone him, it almost scared him. You sounded aggressive, almost like you were about to punch him. He knew he hurt you but he didn’t want to leave on these terms, he still loved you no matter what he had done.

“Y/N.” He tried to talk, he tried to explain, he tried to say sorry again.

“Get the fuck out Peter!” You screamed at him so loudly he winced, he never liked to be yelled at, it always sent his senses into overdrive.

“I just-”

You stalked towards him and placed a hand on his chest and pushed until he was out of your room. When he was in the doorway you looked at him with disgust, like you didn’t recognize who he was.

“Get the fuck out and never talk to me again.”

You went to slam the door in his face but stopped. He was hoping you would hear him out, and let him explain to you why he did this. But with every ounce of hurt in your body, you directed at him three words he never ever wanted to hear from you.

“I hate you.”

And the door slammed in his face so hard the walls shook.

Peter pulled himself from the memory and frowned. He wishes he could take it all back and just talk to you. He was looking at the clock, just a few more minutes and lunch would end and he would be in English looking at you slumped over a desk. You stopped participating in school, didn’t do homework, failed tests, skipped class, and fought with teachers when they tried to help or bring up your issues. You started hanging with Colton and Francis, who were not good people at all, they were dragging you down.

The second the bell rang he sped to class leaving MJ behind, she would trail in with thirty seconds left in the passing period and join him at their table. His leg bounced and waited for you to come in, but you didn’t. Not until halfway through did you stumble in with Colton, both of you giggling. Your lunch was getting high in his van with him and Francis and then getting food off campus while Francis sucked Colton’s face.

Peter could smell the pot on you and he was sure everyone else could. You reeked. And you never smoked before, but now with your new friends, it was a favorite pastime. The teacher sighed and stopped the class, “Nice of you to join us, Y/N. Will you be participating today or are we getting another zero?” You scoffed at her remark, “I don’t know, are you going to be a raging bitch today or is that a rhetorical question? The class oohed, and your teacher slammed her hand on her desk.

“Out! Out of my classroom and don’t come back!”

You rolled your eyes, “The dramatics, teach. Chill out, you need to get laid.” The class was in an uproar, all of them hitting their fist on the desk. The teacher picked up her textbook and slammed it on her desk, the sound making everyone stop immediately. “This is not you, Y/N. I don’t know who you’re trying to be but it’s not working.”

“You know what’s not working teach? Your husband's cock.” You smirked at her reaction, the shock and horror spilling across her face, the way her cheeks lit up.

“Get out!” She screamed so loudly you were sure the rooms around this one stopped for a second. “Get out, get out, get out! I better see you in the office or I swear to God.”

You tugged on Colton's jacket, leading him out the door with you. “Better start swearing.”

Peter watched as you backed out of the classroom and as Mrs. Bender breathed harshly, he shared a look with MJ. She shook her head in disappointment, this wasn’t you, the teacher was right. Peter stayed silent and started working, it wasn’t his job to chase after you and ask what the hell that was, he wasn’t even sure that if he had tried you wouldn’t pretend you couldn’t hear him.

“Y/N got suspended for three days.”

Ned dropped his backpack by Peter’s bedroom door and worked his way over to rest on his bed. He looked over the back of the lego set he brought over before opening the cardboard and pulling out the separated packs.

“She did?”

Peter couldn’t believe it, you’d never gotten suspended before. He wanted to text you, he looked at his phone and bit his lip. Ned pulled him from his thoughts, “Yup. Brandon Quill posted it on his story, apparently, she’s at Katie Perez’s party and is getting hammered.

Peter was double worried, you were suspended from school and now you were getting drunk at a house party talking to people you always told him you hated. He looked at Ned unfolding the instructions, he pulled the thick board Peter kept by his desk for building the sets on a more sturdy surface.

Against better judgment, he picked up his phone to open his message thread with you. He’s scrolled through the messages a few times, pretending he was still sending and receiving sweet nothings with you. He noticed the last text in the chat was him telling you he was on his way, that was the day he ended things. It’s been a long three months.

‘Are you okay?’

He deleted the text.

‘Are you doing alright?’

He deleted that one too.

“You good, man? Am I doing this alone?”

Peter looked up at Ned, he held out a bag of parts for a side section. Peter looked at his phone once more, he settled on a “Hi.” He held his breath and pushed send. He smiled at Ned and grabbed the bag and started to work.

Ten minutes in he looked at his phone and saw nothing.

Fifteen minutes in he checked to see if his phone’s sound was on.

Thirty minutes in he checked again, maybe it didn’t buzz. Ned asked if he had other plans and if he was intruding.

“Uh, no. I uh, I texted her.”

“Y/N, I mean.” He added quickly.

Ned's eyebrows raised, they almost disappeared under his fringe.

“You did?”

Peter nodded. “I did.”

“You did.”

“Yeah. I did.”

“Why?”

“I…. I don’t know.”

Ned put the legos down.

“You don’t know?”

“No. I don’t know anything, Ned.”

“Go on?”

“I don’t know why I did it. I don’t know why I hurt her. I don’t know why I can't move on even though I'm the one that did this.”

“Peter, you know why.” Ned knew Peter knew he thought it was stupid but Peter genunally believed it was for the right reason. No use in trying to backtrack now, it wouldn’t work for him.

“I do.” He nodded his head and swallowed.

“I do, and I really wish I could take it back. I just…acted too fast. I needed to talk to her, hear her out. But… I just left.”

Peter sniffled and tried to blink back tears. It wasn’t manly to cry to your best friend, especially one that wouldn’t show sympathy, one that thought he deserved all he was getting and more.

But Ned wasn’t evil, he loved his friend more than anything. And Peter wasn’t just upset he was being ignored he was upset at himself for his own actions and that meant more to Ned than anything else in the moment. He pushed himself off the bed and held an arm out to Peter at his desk, Peter looked at his hand and gave a confused face but let Ned pull him up anyways.

Ned held one of Peter's hands in his own and placed the other on his shoulder, he looked into his eyes and spoke earnestly. “She’s acting like this because she still loves you and doesn’t want to. She wants to hate you so badly she acts like she does, but if she really did she wouldn’t have to try so hard to do it. You’ll get her back man, you broke it but you’re the only one who can fix it too.”

Peter nodded and looked away when tears were about to fall, Ned just pulled him in for a hug and held him tightly. Peter slowly broke down and cried in his friend's arms for minutes, Ned didn’t say one word, didn’t comfort him, or tried to stop him. He let Peter express his emotions in total sincerity. He just held his friend tightly, Peter gave so much of himself to everyone else, and right now he just needed someone, and Ned was always there.

Ned was Peter’s true best friend. He wasn’t scared to call him out on his bullshit but stayed and stood by him when he needed to. Ned has the kind of heart Peter wishes he had, he was full of compassion and patience, and understanding, Peter didn’t understand how a person could have that much optimism at the world. It was Ned’s superpower.

“I’m scared I fucked it up too much. I think there’s no coming back from this.” He sniffled on his friend's shoulder. Ned rubbed up and down his back, Peter would’ve shoved him off any other time, but right now he closed his eyes and thought about how long it’s been since you touched him like that.

“I don’t think you did. I think if you were able to do this in front of her, to be honest I mean, you would get her back.” Ned squeezed his friend tighter in his hold.

Peter pulled back and looked at his friend, “You mean it? MJ will tell me if you’re lying.” He tested his friends' words, Ned squeezed his shoulders before pulling back entirely. “I mean it.”

Peter rubbed his nose and let out a breath of air.

“Okay. I’m good.”

Peter and Ned shared a look, one that said ‘I’m sorry and ‘Thank you’ and Ned said ‘Sorry for what?’ and ‘That’s what best friends are for’ and the last one was from both of them, ‘I love you, man.’

The rest of the night they worked in unison, one handing a part to another without needing to ask. Ned pieced the last part together, he high-fived Peter and asked if he could keep this one because he bought it and because Peter kept the last three.

Peter looked at his phone once more, you haven’t even read it. He assumes his number is blocked.

“Later man, my grandma is outside.”

Peter lent out his hand for their handshake at the end Peter held on to his friend's hand for a moment longer.

“Actually, can I come and say hi? I need some air.”

“Of course, dude. You know granny loves you. She always asks where my white friend is.”

Peter slowly walked his way up the stairs after saying goodbye to Ned and saying hi, goodbye to his grandma. He was afraid to be alone tonight, he would’ve asked Ned to stay if he hadn’t thought about it after his ride was already on the way. May was at work and his thoughts weren’t going to leave him alone tonight. He assumes Spider-Man will be out late tonight.

He stops at the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water and chugs it. He looks at the leftover pizza and thinks about grabbing a piece but it was the last two slices and it was May's favorite. She deserved her favorite meal after working all night, so he decided to leave it.

Instead, he thinks about getting something later as Spidey. He didn’t use it to his advantage too often but he usually got free food as his alter ego and if he was going to get something for free he usually chose the nicer places. Good free food the real him couldn’t afford? Yes, please.

Peter went into his room where he would finish up some homework, then he would probably visit Pornhub and then go out and fight some crime. He pressed on his phone’s screen, hand already traveling to his waistband on instinct. Until his hand stopped moving and he stopped breathing. He stared into the blue light radiating off his phone, he blinked three times as if he was imagining the notification.

You texted back.

“Hi.”

He tapped on the notification, he was trying to think of what he should say. He hadn’t thought this far ahead, he wasn’t expecting a response. He was tapping his thumbs on the side of his phone, his hands ready to type but before a response came to him your face popped up on his phone.

He smiled involuntarily when he saw the contact photo. You were in a hoodie of his, it was winter outside and he could see the snow on the ground. You were pressed against the brick building of his apartment, he remembers walking up on you and snapping a pic at how happy you were to see him coming your way.

He was so lost in his flashback he almost forgot you were calling him. And, wanted to speak to him for the first time in three months.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Peter!”

Your voice sent a smile to his face. He didn’t remember the last time he felt this calm, this at peace.

“Hi, Y/N.” His voice was a smile.

“Were you thinking about me just now? I had a feeling.”

He looked at his hand near his boxers and brought it to his chest.

“Do you always have that feeling? Because I always am.”

Was he flirting with you right now?

“Only when I’m not constantly trying to ignore it.”

He imagined you rolling your eyes at him.

“Careful, I might think you like me.”

You were silent for a moment, then you spoke quietly.

“Like you? I loved you.”

Loved? That hurt. A lot.

“I-“

You cut him off.

“What are you doing right now?”

Peter paused, he’s thinking it might be an invitation.

“Nothing. Waiting on your call, I’ve been waiting for months actually. I think I’m getting bed sores.”

His heart lifted when you laughed, the sound making him feel free inside. How could a sound make him feel so weightless?

“Do you want to come pick me up?”

You rephrase the question immediately.

“Will you come get me?”

Peter's breath hitched. You wanted to see him, you wanted to speak to him in person. You wanted him.

“Yes, yeah. I’ll come right now. Drop me a pin, okay?”

He waited for your okay and current location to be sent to him. Your text was immediate, he jumped from the bed and grabbed his phone and wallet before leaving the building.

Peter wasn’t a party person. He hated them, you liked them. You would usually go out on a Friday or Saturday evening and hang with some friends, usually, you just stuck in the corner and people-watched and stayed a DD for your friend group. He heard you had gotten drunk tonight but you weren’t slurring your words on the phone, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you drunk. Tipsy, yes, but you didn’t like to drink too much. You sipped on a beer or two during the night to keep everyone from trying to hand you shots and strong liquor but stayed sober to drive everyone home at night.

He had texted you when he arrived but you didn’t respond, he tried calling but you didn’t pick up. He would check your location to see if you were still here but you turned that off months ago. Breakup or not he wishes you kept it on for him, he just wanted to make sure you were safe.

Peter sighed when he realized when he would have to go in to look for you. He then was a little relieved you weren’t waiting for him outside, it was cold and dark and only a few stragglers were outside. He was glad he had his flannel on then, he would get to see you in his clothes once more.

Peter prepared himself for the loud music and crowd and pushed open the oak door.

“Tequila shots in the kitchen!”

Someone shouted and a few kids cheered. One kid came up behind Peter and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Tequila shots, man!” He tried to steer him into the kitchen but he shook off the hand and stepped out of his path.

Peter's eyes shot around the room, he closed his eyes and focused on his heartbeat. He was searching for your voice, he ran over all the conversations until-

“Wait, wait, wait. Peter’s picking you up?”

He couldn’t place the voice, it was familiar for sure. Maybe it was Francis, no, Drea? Maybe it was Karissa?

He heard you hum, your mouth was full. The group was either smoking or drinking.

“Yes, don’t judge me.”

A few laughs from the group.

“No judgment here, but we won’t let you live this down when you’re sober. You can’t say you hate him and how evil he is and then turn around and beg to be with him when you have a few drinks in you.”

This one was for sure Francis, he could recognize her shrill voice from anywhere.

“Oi! Not my fault he has the best dick game in town. I miss getting fucked by him more than anything.” You laughed at the end with the girls.

Nice to know you had missed him in that way. Usually when a breakup happens the first words to fly out the mouth were “his dick was small and trash.”

“It went out, pass the lighter.”

He didn’t know who that one was, it was a guy.

“Wait a minute, Y/N. Is this your first ex-hookup?”

“What other ex do I have?”

Peter smiled at that one, he was your only.

Francis giggled.

“I mean there was Nat-“

You gagged.

“Stop! I tainted my body with that. Fuck you all, by the way. Why did you let me do that?”

Peter frowned. He didn’t know you hooked up with someone else, you had the right but he couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous knowing someone touched you the way he did.

“I don’t know if it counts as sex when you think of your ex the whole time.” It was that guy again.

“Peter’s just so good though! The entire time I just kept thinking ‘this has to be a joke.’” You laughed at the grittiness of the memory.

Peter had a boosted ego at this point. You may have hated him but had to admit how good he was in the sack.

You coughed and spoke again.

“Do you think we will get back together?”

Peter’s breath stopped. You were asking?

“Be honest! I promise I won’t be mad.”

“Are you asking if you have a chance?” It was Karissa, or Drea.

“I’m asking if he has a chance.”

Peter nodded but stopped when he realized he was in the middle of a room.

“With you? Yeah. Yeah, I think you always left the door a little open for him no matter how much you swear you slammed it.” Karissa answered the question.

“Plus if you were really over him you would have different hair by now. Everyone knows when you’re really over a guy you change your hair.” Drea? Added.

“I say no. I mean, if he does I don’t have a chance to hit.” The guy laughed but no one joined.

“Bro. Who even are you?”

“I’m the one who brought the joint over, remember?” He responded back to you.

“Yeah, and? I don’t fuck for free.” You laughed in his face.

The group went quiet, you raised a hand to shoo him off.

“Go on now. Bye.”

Peter thinks it’s time to find you now.

He spots you outside, you were standing with who he had assumed. Karissa, Drea and Francis. When he was approaching you he noticed a dude giving him the side eye, he imagined he was the one that was trying to ‘hit it.’

He soaked in your appearance, and how cute you looked. He was used to seeing you in dark clothing that covered your body at school, he always thought you were beautiful but tonight your legs were on show and you had on that bracelet he gifted you for your one-year anniversary. He’s happy to know you kept it and still wore it.

He snuck up behind you, he would’ve grabbed you if he thought he could. He lent his mouth against your ear, your friends noticing him with raised eyebrows but staying silent.

“Boo.”

You jumped and spun, a wide smile covering your face.

“Boo to you too!”

You opened your arms and made grabby hands. You always asked him for a hug that way. It had been months but you still replayed the moments in your relationship like they never stopped.

He leaned down and wrapped his arms around you. He’s not ashamed to admit he stole a sniff of your hair, he’s missed you wrapped around him more than he could ever put in words. Your touch alone made him buzz, he forgot how much his senses dialed up around you. He felt you pressed into him, he could feel your chest moving against him with your breaths, which he never noticed before. How had he taken those moments for granted?

He’d ask if you missed him but he thinks that would push you back into reality. He knows sober you wouldn’t be allowing yourself this, he was selfish to keep you away from your current morals. But he needed this too bad, needed you too bad.

You pulled away from him and he felt cold. He didn’t realize how warm you made him until you left his hold.

“I forgot how good you smell.”

You smiled at him and fixed his flannel collar. You glanced over the shirt, it was your favorite. You don’t think you ever told him that.

“This is my favorite shirt on you. Did I ever tell you that?”

He brushed some hair behind your ear.

“Mhmm, don’t think so. Good to know, I think the universe made me wear it today. Must have known you’d be calling me later.”

You opened your mouth, and Peter swore to every higher power you were about to say ‘I love you.’ He just knew. You had that look on your face. Instead, you shut it, you started again. “Do you want to hang around for a minute or leave? I know this isn’t your scene.” You moved to wrap yourself against his side, a permanent side hug.

Peter wanted to leave, god he wanted to go. It sucked, he was getting stared down by a random dude. The songs sucked, and the flashing lights inside made his head hurt instantly. But, god. You looked at him like he made your sun rise and set, and you looked so pretty and he missed you so much he would saw off his own hand for just a minute longer with you.

He thought about his next action carefully. He knew it may make you finally push him away but did it anyway.

He lent down to place a kiss on the top of your head. He was the one that hurt you and right now he was using you to make himself feel better. He wasn’t being a good guy.

You pushed your head up to hold his mouth there, warm flowed from your scalp to your toes. Goosebumps took place on your arms. You hated how much control he had over you.

“We can chill for a minute. Don’t wanna interrupt your hangout.” He looked towards your friends, fawning at your interaction.

“You sure?”

The way you looked at him, searching for his comfort level. No matter what Peter said if you felt an inkling of him wanting to leave you would. Peter felt like he couldn’t breathe, you were looking over him searching for clues you still knew he hid. He brought his head down subtly, he almost leaned in to kiss you. He forgot what he did for a moment and pulled himself back up.

You looked at him with raised eyebrows and grinned. The look alone let him know you caught him, and he wonders if you would’ve let him kiss you.

“Positive.” He leaned forward to kiss you on the cheek, he forgot how smooth the surface was. How his lips puckered perfectly on the skin, almost like it was indented to fit him. You lent into him and let him hold there for a moment before you squeezed at his waist and he pulled away.

“Mind being the best ex-boyfriend and getting me a refill?” You held up the plastic cup in your hand and shook it. Peter felt like he was sucker punched in his gut at your words, he knew he dumped you but hearing you call him your ex-boyfriend made him want to cry. He was proud to wear the boyfriend title, he was ashamed of the ex before it.

He grabbed the cup from your hand and gave a tight lip smile, he looked at the party inside and groaned internally. The last thing he wanted to do was go into the crowded kitchen and pour you a drink. But, it was for you. And he wanted to show that he would do anything for you.

“Of course, anything else?” He pointed at your friends, “You guys want anything?” They all cheered and pushed their cups at him.

“Vodka cranberry!” Francis’ plastic bent against his chest with the force she pushed at him.

“Malibu with pineapple juice, please.” Drea waited for him to grab hers.

“Rum and coke, use the Captain Morgan’s if they still have some in there!” Karissa requested, then batted her eyelashes at him. “Please?”

He nodded his head at your friends and looked towards you for your request, he assumed you were drinking liquor tonight, you were missing your usual Blue Moon beer bottle.

“Vodka Redbull, please sir.”

“Got it. Four glasses of water coming up.” He winked at the group and turned to leave. You slapped him on the arm, “Thanks babe!” and moved in to talk with your friends.

His knees shook the whole way up the stairs. He never thought you would call him that again, it was a pet name, the most common one but it was the one you gave him. He was playing at your level, he wanted nothing more than to spin you around the patio but he didn’t deserve to do that. If you wanted him back he would never leave again.

Peter quickly set the cups down at the counter and moved in accordance with the liquors. Vodka first, then rum. He moved his fingers in a flutter motion looking for the cranberry and pineapple juice. He cracked the can of Redbull and poured half, he made yours a little weaker than he thinks you would’ve.

He was about to juggle the cups on his way out the door, four plastic cups and a can was straining his hold. If no one was around and he could get away with it he would’ve webbed them together. He was just about to pick up the third cup when a voice came behind him.

“You don’t deserve her, you know what right?”

He whipped his head around, it was the guy that was staring him down when he first arrived. His assumption was right, that was the guy who wanted to fuck you.

“I’m sorry?” Peter was confused, who was this guy and why did he think he got a say in anything you or he did?

“She just wants to fuck you. You know that right? She doesn’t want to get back together or anything.” His words were bitter, he didn’t know Peter heard their entire conversation and knows that he does have a shot of getting back together.

“Right…” He trailed off and looked to his left side at the back door. He wasn’t about to give this random guy the opportunity to make him feel less than. He did that enough on his own.

Peter moved to the side and picked up the remaining cups. The guy moved in front of him once more, Peter wanted to push the guy away. He was getting annoyed at the interaction.

“I mean it. You don’t have a chance.” He went to place a hand on Peter’s shoulder and he moved his body backward, he didn’t want this guy touching him at all.

“Look man, it sounds like you're jealous of me.”

The guy pshhed at Peter.

“Of you? Yeah, you wish.” He looked Peter up and down, sizing him up.

“The way I see it, you’re mad you tried to hook up and she rejected you. Now, you’re extra pissed at the guy that she’s been raging about for months, the guy she hates, is the one she called to pick her up.”

Peter nodded at the guy and moved to go around him, this time he pushed Peter by the shoulder into the counter.

“Her? She’s a fucking whore, she’ll let anyone fuck her.” He spat the words at Peter, he was looking for a fight. Peter didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He laughed instead, like he was a world-class comedian.

“But not anyone, right?” He looked over the guy and pouted. His sarcastic sympathy made the guy want to punch him.

“You’re a pussy. She’s gonna sober up and wonder why she called you and not me.”

“You’re trying really hard here dude. Get this, I’m the one that dumped her and I’m the one that gets to take her home tonight and fuck her. That makes you real mad huh?”

Peter would never speak about you like that normally. Even he was disgusted when the words came out of his mouth, but this guy was talking shit about you up and down while also trying to fuck you. It was sending Peter for a loop, did he want to fuck you or not?

Peter finally maneuvered his way past him, he was able to leave the house and trek down the garden steps. He walked in on a story you were telling your friends, moving your arms and smiling when your audience laughed at the right parts.

“And he goes-“ Even you had to pause to giggle.

“He goes, ‘Baby, have you seen the new Cats trailer yet? It’s given me nightmares for the past week. I don’t even know how.’”

The group laughs and when he walks up you “ooh” at him and tap on his arm. He handed each girl their cup and took yours from between his teeth, his other hand had the half Redbull, he would sip on that while you chat.

“Remember that, Pete? The Cats' nightmares?”

You giggled when he groaned, he would never get tired of that sound. No matter how crowded the room was he could always recognize it anywhere.

“Oh yeah. You had to wake me up one night because I was screaming at James Corden to back up.”

Your eyes lit up, you tapped him a few more times on his arm in remembrance. “That’s right! You couldn’t get back to sleep so we had-“ You stopped your sentence. He knew what you were going to say, he couldn’t fall back asleep so you both had three am sex. It was some of the best sex you’ve had, you both agreed.

“Had chocolate cake?” He finished for you.

“Was that it? I could've sworn it was better than that.” You shared a look with him, he missed that. He missed the hidden inside jokes you both had, the kind of secrets you only had with a lover.

You held out your cup to him, “Quality control. You need to make sure it’s not poisoned.”

His heart stuttered. That was his thing.

No matter what it was, a fry, a drink, a sandwich he always took a taste before you did. He always said he was quality control, and needed to make sure it was safe for you to ingest. A small joke that you always looked forward to, something you could count on from him.

He grinned and took the cup from you and took a sip. He pulled the cup back and handed it back to you with a shudder. “It’s vodka alright.”

You looked at your friend group and started to chat.

“There was also this one time Peter called me and was freaking out because there was a snake in his room. He lives on like, the seventh-floor mind you. We still don’t know how it got there.” You elbowed him to add to the story, he was still reeling from the ‘we.’

“Yup. And she was making fun of me because-“ Peter was cut short and stumbled forwards with force. The girls in front of him gasped and you pulled his arm into yours to hold him to your side, you were protecting him in an instant.

“Fuck you!”

It was the guy from the kitchen. He had shoved Peters back and almost made him fall into Drea. Peter went to move out of the way knowing he was about to get shoved again but knew it would result in Drea getting laid out flat. He braced himself for the movement again.

“I said fuck you!” He pushed harder.

Peter pulled away from you, he wasn’t about to let you get caught in the crossfire.

“Fuck off man.” Peter wouldn’t warn him again, dude could push him all he wanted but if he started swinging Peter would finish the fight.

The guy was about to push at Peter's chest until you stepped forward.

“Cut it out, Jason!”

The guy stumbled for a minute.

“It’s Tyler.”

You shook your head at him with pinched eyebrows. You held your hands like ‘okay, and?’

“Jason, Tyler, Cody, Brian. Doesn’t matter. Hands off.”

“He’s not even your boyfriend. He’s your ex. You’ve made that very clear.” Tyler spat the words at you, glaring at Peter.

“Yours. Do you hear that? Mine. He’s mine. Hands off, or I swear he’s gonna hurt you.” You warned the perpetrator, he didn’t know the damage Peter could do.

“Fuck you. You’re a fucking whore. Good luck getting used, he only sees you as a loose hole.” He spat on the ground in front of you.

Peter straightened. He wasn’t the fight over a girl type but he wanted to murder this fucking guy. But, he also didn’t want to make you embarrassed. He waited on your call.

“Peter.”

He looked towards you, waiting for the direction.

You narrowed your eyes at Tyler, you made a slight growl at his words. He was mean, and Peter knew you hated mean people.

“Lay him the fuck out.”

Peter nodded and placed a hand on Tyler’s chest. In one motion he slammed him to the ground and listened as he begged his body to breathe. He didn’t seriously hurt him, just knocked the air out of him. Maybe bruised his tailbone a bit too, just so he would remember this for a few days.

You looked towards your drink, you only had a little left.

“Can we leave after this?” You were much quieter than you were earlier.

Peter leaned in to kiss your forehead, “Of course.”

You leaned forward to say goodbye to your friends at the back gate. Each of you had stepped over Tyler’s body still searching for air. Peter placed a hand on the small of your back when you stepped over the waist of the man on the floor.

“Bye Drea, bye Francis, bye Karissa! I’ll see you guys Wednesday!” You waved in the faces of your friends.

“Wait, is that when the suspension is over?” Karissa prodded.

Peter didn’t miss the way you turned your head from him, you were ashamed.

“Uh, yeah. It’s my last strike. One more slip up and I’m expelled.” You rolled your lips in your mouth.

Peter’s eyes widened but he didn’t say anything.

Drea gasped, “No! They can’t do that!”

You laughed dryly.

“Yeah, yeah they can. I’m one skipped class away from repeating the year. I’m skating on the thinnest piece of ice.” You were desperately trying to leave this conversation, you didn’t want Peter to hear or know about any of this. He would be so disappointed, and you hated that you still wanted to make him proud.

“That's okay, Y/N! You just need to find yourself a tutor to catch you up.” Francis contributed to the conversation, you snorted at her response.

“I did. He dumped me, remember?”

“Oof.” Karissa stared Peter in the eyes, it was his turn to avoid eye contact.

“Anyhoo,” You reached for Peter’s hand behind your back and intertwined it with your own.

“Ready?”

He looked down at you and squeezed your hand three times. You tightened your hold on him and kept it there.

“As ready as I’ve ever been.”

He paused as you opened the gate and looked behind him at your group of friends, he gave them a two-finger salute. “Goodnight, ladies.”

“Goodnight, Peter.” They all sang in unison.

Not even ten minutes Peter unbuttoned his flannel and gave it to you.

You wrapped yourself in it and flapped your hands where the cloth-covered them.

“Am I taking you home?”

You nodded at him, “Yes sir, dad isn’t home. I hope Allen isn’t either.” You added the last part under your breath. Peter didn’t get why, you and your brother got along better than most siblings. There were a few times you even went on double dates with him and his girlfriend, unless there was recent drama in the family that he didn’t know of, he couldn’t see why you didn't want to see him.

“Allen doing okay?” Peter teased the question.

“Huh? Oh yeah, no he’s doing awesome. He and Sara just had their three-year anniversary.”

You walked along the edge of the crack on the sidewalk, almost onto the street. Peter watched with a close eye, at any car coming your way he would pull you back into his side. You swung your intertwined hands between you two.

“Three years? That’s gotta be a record.” He joked with you and you laughed before adding to his statement.

“At least someone in the family has a stable relationship. I have to ask him how he does it.”

Peter frowned. Did he make you feel unloveable? Your dad and mom were never a thing and he had spent his whole life trying to chase something that he couldn’t catch. You actually believed Allen was the only one who would get a happy ever after.

He wanted to tell you that you and he had a good thing too. You really did, you bounced off each other like ping-pong balls. Each of you always tried to beat the other in wit, and each of you always fought over who loved each other more. He thinks you finally won the game.

“You have a stable relationship too.” He leaned in to hit his shoulders against yours.

“Do I?” You looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Mhm. Your bed and Netflix haven’t let you down ever.” He laughed at the end but you moved your eyesight back to the crack in front of you.

You kept trying to hint at him to talk about it. Either he was missing the mark or was tuning you out. Why were you even trying?

“Do you..” You trailed off. You weren’t going to ask, he broke up with you. He didn’t feel remorse, if he did he would’ve tried harder by now.

“Do I?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Peter frowned, it didn't seem like nothing.

You thought about him on the walk home. He hurt you more than you thought possible, but all you wanted tonight was his arms around you and his mouth on yours. You knew you would hate yourself in the morning, you would berate yourself, and question why you let yourself slip backward. Let him know that this attitude was all a front. But you missed him more than you hated him. You missed his hands on you, his lips on your neck. The way his body fit perfectly between your hips, you missed how he grunted when you pulled at his curls. You missed the way he loved you.

You knew Dua Lipa had told you about not getting under him because you wouldn’t be able to get over him, but it’s been three months and you still love him just the same. You would never admit it but you hoped he did too.

“Tell me about school. What’s going on there?” Peter pulled you into his side when he heard a city bus approaching. You gave him a ‘Ha!’

“Nothing’s going on. Like, really. That’s why I’m in deep shit.” You pulled at a button on the shirt cuff with one hand and rolled it around your thumb. Peter thought of his next words carefully, he didn’t want you to think he was trying to lecture you.

“Maybe you can start by not telling teachers their husband's cock doesn’t work.” Peter looked over when you laughed. “I said that to her but I was really saying it to me.”

“What do you mean?”

You stopped walking and pulled Peter to a stop with you. You moved in front of him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

This was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea. You would only slip back and ruin all the progress you had made erasing him from you, not like it did any good anyways. You always had him in the back of your mind, he didn’t deserve it.

“I mean, I think a lot of this aggression I have can be fucked out by you.” You brushed his curls out of his eyes. You were touching him like he was yours- like you could lose him again.

“Miss it that much hm?” He pulled at the unbuttoned shirt, your chest was touching his.

“No matter what I use I can’t match it. Drives me crazy, only you know how to please me.” You whispered looking at his lips. It may have been a bad idea but you forgot how they tasted, how they felt. You needed it, one last time.

You were an addict, recovery comes with slip-ups, right?

“I don’t think-”

You cut him off. You stood on tiptoes and met his mouth, your tongue sliding in and you closed the seal. Your brain lit up with fireworks, your face buzzed like you were shot full of novocaine. You went warm, his flannel suddenly feeling hot. You never wanted to separate, you lived in harmony at once. His mouth met yours perfectly, it felt like not a day had passed between kisses. You knew in that moment you could never really get over him, he lived in you whether you liked it or not. He was dormant in your system, the second you got a taste of him it was like the past three months never happened. You finally felt whole.

Peter on the other hand felt breathless immediately. He hadn’t seen it coming, he was saying that he didn't think this was a good idea but now he was eating his words. Literally. You kissed him, you leaned into him and made out with him. He felt like he was being lifted from the ground, he has never felt like this before. Even when he dated you he hadn’t felt this special, this seen. And you treated him like a God. Then he felt bad, he needed to stop this. You weren’t thinking straight, you were drunk and horny and he was the person at the top of your list to help you. Nothing more.

You pulled back to breathe, Peter opened his eyes and looked at you. You knew he was about to speak, tell you that you shouldn’t be doing this. That it was a bad idea, that he ended things for a reason. That you should stop. You didn’t want to give him a chance. You had missed his kiss so much that you needed one more, or maybe a few more.

You pulled him down by his neck to meet your lips once more, this was a bruising kiss. This was you hurt me so bad and I just really need your kiss. Or at least you hoped he would see it that way. You bit down on his bottom lip and tugged at it, he grunted and squeezed at your hips. You wished his hands would travel down.

In fact, you can ask him to. You grabbed one of his hands and pushed it to your ass. You waited for him to squeeze, to pull you closer, to lift your knee up against his hip. But he moved it. He moved it back to your hip. You bit his lip again, this was your thing. It always made him hot for you. You tried to move his hand again but he tightened his hand where it sat, he was telling you no.

“No?”

You pulled back and huffed for air, you gave him puppy dog eyes.

He shook his head at you.

“Why not?” You pouted at him.

Because you’re drunk and you don’t want to do this is what he wanted to say.

Instead, he told you he was walking you home and didn’t want to do this in the middle of the street. You nodded your head at him, “Fair point.”

You moved to walk again but leaned in for one more kiss, he wasn’t denying but he wasn’t initiating. You noticed that. You did it anyway.

“Keys?”

Peter reached his hand out for your lanyard and caught it when you tossed it. He stuck the key in and twisted, the chirp of your house alarm caught him by surprise. He forgot it did that when you opened the front and back doors. You ran up behind him and grabbed his shoulders, you jumped and his hands immediately caught the back of your thighs and pushed you higher onto his back. You pointed at the kitchen to give him direction, you tapped your ankle on his hip to get him moving. “Water first. Then room.”

Peter set you down on the kitchen counter and grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. You opened your legs and tapped at the empty space, he came to stand between them and you wrapped your legs around him pushing his groin into yours. “Y/N,” He warned. You tucked your head into his chest for a moment, this was embarrassing even for drunk you, how needy you were.

You pulled back and looked into his face. You thought very carefully about your next movement, it was going to make or break the relationship. Rolling your lips into your mouth you pushed him back and hopped off the counter. You never broke eye contact, you grabbed his hand in yours and pulled him behind you up the stairs.

This was the ultimate slip back, you were taking the man who destroyed you up to your room. You thought about it with each step you took, you warned yourself, you told yourself that you were weak, you told yourself the truth. No matter how hard you try to think of reasons not too, only one was telling you to do it anyways, Peter. Admitting it or not, you missed him like nothing else and if you can escape that path by fucking him? How much harm can be done?

“Oh, you have got to be fucking with me right now, Y/N.”

You winced, your brother was home. If you had gotten Peter to kiss you for a few more minutes this wouldn’t have happened. You could’ve avoided this entirely, he was on his way out. No doubt heading to Sara’s place, they both were saving up for their own apartment.

“Because I know you didn’t bring home this fuck head.” Then looked at Peter and spoke sternly, “Wasted no less, because there is no way, sober you would ever bring him back here, right?”

“Hi Allen.” At least Peter was trying to be polite.

“Shut the fuck up, Peter.”

Peter pursed his lips and nodded. Allen was right, he did dump you with no explanation and left you crying and angry. He knew Allen was home when he did it, he caught his eye on the way down the stairs, and the way Allen shook his head at him made him feel worthless. It was the first real shameful moment he felt after he broke up with you. Allen wasn’t his fan anymore, he actually seemed to hate him. It must run in the family.

“Allen, please stop.” You tucked your chin to your chest.

“You know what he did to you right? How you were so upset dad slept outside your door for a month straight? How you wouldn’t eat, or play GTA with me anymore? How you-” He started to rattle off the reasons why Peter shouldn’t be here, and Peter couldn’t disagree with anymore. He hadn’t known he made you hurt that bad, so much so that time stopped in your household.

“Fuck off, alright? I can make my own decisions. I know what I’m doing.” You tugged Peter further up the stairs, Peter looked back down at the front door. He really should leave.

“He’s just gonna hurt you more and you know it. But it’s your life so don’t come crying to me again.” He shoulder-checked Peter on the way down the stairs, his rib hit against the banister and he hissed, he kept his mouth shut though, he deserved that one.

Once you were in your room and had the door shut you turned to Peter and smiled.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just in a funk cause Sara and him are in a fight and he’s not breaking first.” You waved off the tension and turned with your back to him, you pulled your hair away and spoke over your shoulder.

“Can you undo this for me? Francis had to help me put it on.”

Peter stepped forward and began untying the back of your shirt, each string had its own knot. His hands were warm to the touch, you lent back against him each time his palm touched your bare skin. Your shirt dropped to the floor and you caught Peter's hands before he moved them back to his side, you brought your back to his chest and wrapped his arms around your body, and rested his hands on your breasts. Peter may have resisted your ass but he was always a tit man.

You felt his warmth as you cupped his hands around your bare chest, you put your head against his shoulder and listened to his deep breath. He was trying to control himself, and you were making it very hard. You dropped your hands from his and he held them there for a moment, he didn't back away but he wasn’t into them as much as you wished he was. You felt his hands tense, for just a moment he was going to squeeze and play but then dropped his hands back down.

You turned and pouted, he kept his eyes on yours.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t or don’t want to?”

How was he saying no? Did he not need this as much as you?

“I mean we shouldn’t and I’m making the decision not to.”

You stepped back from him and grabbed a shirt from your drawer.

“I’m tired of you making decisions for us.”

He sighed. You were about to turn the night into a fight.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I make you remember you dumped me and ruined this? The least you could do is fuck me one last time.” Your words were bitter and Peter didn’t like how that sounded.

“I did break up with you, yes. I also get to say no when you want to have sex.” Peter spoke even, he wouldn’t change his mind about this no matter what.

You scoffed.

“Don’t be deft, Peter. You knew I called you for a reason. Don’t think after three months ‘Hi’ changed everything.”

“It did for me.”

“Oh fuck you Peter! Literally, fuck you so hard. So you get to dump me and act all sad when I stop talking to you and now you get to act like the ball is in my court!” You screamed at his incompetence.

“You act like such a good fucking person but you’re not. You never told me why you did it. You let me kiss you knowing it wouldn’t go anywhere. I’m tired of you exploiting my emotions.” You shook your head at him.

Peter sighed again and turned his head to your door.

“I should go, Y/N. If you want to have this conversation tomorrow I’d be glad to continue.”

“No!” You blocked the door with your body.

“Don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I’m sorry, I am. I’ll let it go, just don’t leave.” You pleaded with him.

He closed his eyes tight, he hated this right now. This was the second time you begged him not to go but he still did. He doesn’t think he’ll get a third chance.

“Look. I’m leaving because I don’t think you want me here. I know you say you do but you also acted way different tonight than you have in the past months, okay? I’m here to talk and answer any questions you have, I missed you so much, okay? I just want to make sure we do this right.”

You avoided his eyesight and he ducked his head to meet yours, “Tomorrow, okay? We can talk tomorrow. Pick this up where we left it.”

“Where you left it you mean.”

“Y/N.”

You looked like you were about to cry.

“Don’t make him right, please don’t. Don’t hurt me tonight Peter. I’ll break.” You begged him not to go.

“Tomorrow. I can’t hurt you if I promise tomorrow, right?” He cupped his hand around your cheek and you leaned into his touch.

You wrapped a hand around his wrist, this was the holy grail. The last chance, if he left you don’t think you would ever bounce back from it. He ruined this, he broke up with you and you were begging for a second chance.

You looked into his eyes and said the one thing that you had thought about nonstop since he ended it.

“Peter, I still lo-”

He didn’t let you say it. He pulled his hand back and stepped away from you totally.

“Stop. Just.. Don’t. Not right now, not tonight.”

“Do you not love me anymore?” Tears plucked at the corners of your eyes, this was the final goodbye.

“I need to leave. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

He moved to the door while you stepped aside.

“This is it then. I fucking hate you, Peter.”

He dropped his head low, that hurt.

“You made me hate you. You did this to yourself, and I can’t believe I let myself do this. It was a bad idea, everyone told me it was. I won’t talk to you ever again, I swear on everything if you walk out you’re dead to me.”

You were mean, terribly mean. But also hurt and scared and alone and needy. And you just wanted to feel loved by the one who did it best.

“Peter.” He ignored you as he opened the door.

“Peter!” He ignored you when he went down the stairs.

“There won’t be a tomorrow if you leave. I swear, Peter.” He said nothing as he opened the front door.

He was leaving, he was actually leaving. For the second time, he left you pleading for him to stay.

“Peter!” You screamed his name but the only sound that came back was the chirp of your house alarm alerting he was gone.

You were right, there was no tomorrow. Or Sunday, Or Monday, Or Tuesday.

part two will be out soon, please let me know if you like it. it's my first time doing a parted series, it just has too much for one read.

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #peter parker drabble #peter parker fluff #peter parker mcu #peter parker #my writing

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therhythmafterthesummer · 2 years

Text

It’s Warm In (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Established Relationship Warnings: swearing · pet names · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut) · bit of PWP ngl... Word Count: ~4k | AO3 Summary: You try to spend an intimate, relaxing evening with your boyfriend a handful of months after his rut. [This story is an instalment of my WereRoomies series].

Author’s note: A sort of part 2 to It’s Cold Out & Rut because i love these two and i’m weak !!

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments: It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

Smut Warnings: unprotected intercourse [piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control] · snowballing · a barely even present breeding kink

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

< You: hey handsome < anything you want from the store < ?

> Chris 🐺💕: hey pretty baby > just want you > really really been thinking about you all day > couldnt get the sight of your plump lips around my cock out of my mind > fuck > been driving me nuts > ill be home as soon as i can

Smiling to yourself you continued your walk down the aisles in the grocery store, shaking your head slightly, taking items as you went and dumping them into your cart. This morning you had woken up late to get ready for work, but that hadn’t stopped you from tugging your boyfriend into the shower and sucking him dry.

Because Chris was your boyfriend.

As soon as his rut had passed and you had had a couple of days to recover–because holy shit, you really had to take a lot those days–he had taken you out on a date to the seasonal fair, tugging you along to the many different rides and games, winning prizes for you, you winning prizes for him–all as he blushed profusely whenever you gave him a gift or whenever your hands brushed as if he hadn’t shoved his monster cock in you repeatedly for a few days in a row a couple of days prior.

By the end of your date he had kissed you deeply under the fairy lights that littered the roads on your way back home, asking you ‘would you like to be my girlfriend, pretty?’ as if you hadn’t let him call you ‘his’ repeatedly countless times in the past week. You had said yes, because you would’ve been caught dead before you said no to this man.

In the handful of months that followed you discovered that he was a good boyfriend–not perfect, because nobody is perfect, but it was pretty close to it. Chris was responsible, funny, supportive, he made sure to make you feel included, and he cared. It honestly should’ve been a bit sad that the bar was so low, but it was, and he was jumping fifty metres over it.

During his rut, you came to find out in one of your talks in between waves that even if you weren’t a werewolf yourself, Chris’ pheromones had affected you then. You hadn’t even known before that your body was capable of producing such amounts of fluids, almost as if your body was trying to make it easier for you to take a knot, never in your life had you felt that horny either. You liked to think of yourself as a healthy young adult, with healthy young adult needs and wants, but the level of desperation for cock during the duration of his rut had truly been out of this world.

When you commented it to Chris he simply said, ‘Yeah, I heard about it from my friends who have gone through their rut with regular humans… If you think about it, it makes sense. Werewolves have been mating with humans for centuries, not only with other werewolves, so makes sense our species have evolved for this’.

You must admit that once your hormones calmed down after his rut and you were able to think properly again, you had been slightly worried. Chris had been scenting you, and he did confess he didn’t like you smelling like other men, which could’ve potentially meant he would be overly possessive and controlling. You were pleasantly surprised, though, that that wasn’t the case. Never once did he try to stop you from doing absolutely anything because other men would be there, if anything, he encouraged you to leave your shared home and have fun as much as you wanted–although Chris did cling to you as much as he could whenever other men came close to you while he was there, which you admittedly didn’t care much about.

‘Just because I’m biologically fucked doesn’t mean I’ll keep you from leaving the house, you must live your life, just like I live mine’, Chris had told you when you voiced these worries to him, adding a ‘besides, at the end of the day you’ll always come back and I can be all over you and get the pleasure of scenting you again, it’s a win/win!’ which had made you laugh.

You did decide to make an extra effort, though, asking him for some items you could take with you when you went to work or school or to your friends’ to keep his scent on you, which made him blush and get shy and giggle because ‘wow, my pretty baby wants my scent on her? You’re so good to me, I’m so lucky…’

That morning after you blew him in the shower, he had attempted to go down on you, but you had to turn him down since you were running out of time, which made him pout and whine and complain because ‘I want to satisfy you, babe. Please…’ But you wouldn’t let him, instead promising to let him have his way with you all night long tonight if he wanted since you both didn’t work on Saturdays, meaning you could sleep in.

> Chris 🐺💕: on second thought > could u bring a bag of those small brownies u got last time > ? > really fancy some

You chuckled at the message, manoeuvring the shopping cart to turn back to the baked goods section.

< You: sure thing baby < anything you want

> Chris 🐺💕: 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤💜🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 > 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

When you finally made it back home you put away what needed to be in the fridge and freezer and left the rest on the counter, deciding to put it away later after you got to rest a bit. It had been a tedious day at work, and you had only gone grocery shopping because Chris had gone to the store the past three times, so you felt like you needed to contribute.

A hot shower and two face masks later you felt alive again, like a person–not like a robot crammed in an office. Putting on one of Chris’ hoodies, you threw yourself on the sofa, mindlessly scrolling all social media platforms you had an account on to get some boost of dopamine to satisfy and distract you.

Two hours later, your boyfriend finally made it back, spotting you on the sofa as soon as he came through the door, a big smile plastered on his face making his eyes disappear. Chris dropped his backpack right there, making a beeline to where you were already waiting for him on the sofa with open arms.

When he dropped himself on top of you with a grunt, you couldn’t help but let out a minute ‘oof’, your limbs coming to wrap themselves around him, pulling him into you as you peppered his face with kisses, making him giggle. ‘Welcome home, darling’ You mumbled to him as he came to place a kiss on your lips, his hands going under your body to cup your bum and pull you to him.

“God, what a long fucking day…” His mouth descended from your lips to your jaw, pressing open mouthed kisses there while his hand squeezed your buttock. “Rest here, babe. I need a shower urgently, desperately”.

You chuckled, your limbs releasing their hold around Chris’ body so he could stand back up to walk towards the entrance, picking his backpack up from where he had thrown it and making his way towards his room to start his nightly routine. You did as asked–not like you had any plans on moving from this spot any time soon anyway–picking up the remote and turning the TV on to find something relaxing to entertain you while you waited.

You’d come to learn that non-rut-driven Chris liked to take his time with you. He’d edge you and tease you and make you squirm in bliss even before he got to actually penetrate you–and you would let him, because why wouldn’t you. If you ever were desperate enough for some quick relief you knew that you just had to look him in the eyes, muster the firmest tone you could to beg and he’d have you coming undone in seconds, but most of the time you’d just let him do whatever he wanted–just like you were doing now.

“So soft… So pretty…” His hands dragged from your neck, to your chest, to your belly, your thighs, and back up–his fingers softly digging on your skin as they went, while his cock eased itself between your folds, stretching you open further than his fingers had in the past hour.

You were already a trembling, sweaty mess by this point, his mouth and his fingers alone having had their way with you enough for you to still feel the aftereffects of your orgasm lingering on your skin, feeling tingly. Chris didn’t look one bit as worked up as you, which was not surprising. His supernatural capabilities made it so he barely even broke a sweat, but you did enjoy seeing the deepening flush on his chest and his face as his length buried as much as it could within your core.

“You’re pretty…” You commented absentmindedly, his flush deepening slightly at the comment. Taking your hand in his Chris brought it to his face, resting it on his cheek with his hand above yours while the other held onto your waist, his hips starting to move back and forth.

Your sofa had seen you two fucking more times than you could count; the thing was wide, spacious–enough to keep a pack of eight werewolves comfortable when they hung out. It was warm and cosy and you would lie if you said you didn’t like it when he fucked you here. You wondered sometimes if the others would be able to smell it when they came over, if they did, you didn’t care one bit–not like they didn’t know what went on behind closed doors anyway.

As soon as the rest of his pack found out about you two they had started to tease Chris incessantly–not you, though. They smiled warmly at you and told you how happy they were for you, but you came to find out from Seungmin that they all knew Chris had been harbouring a crush on you for the longest time, and they loved to tease him for it. ‘Why do you think we were calling you mum?’ He told you at the time with a chuckle, to which you just pouted, mustering a mock-hurt tone, ‘and here I was thinking you guys actually liked to come to me for help…’ to which he quickly replied ‘we do! We just love teasing Christopher more’ which had made you both laugh and made Chris stare daggers at the both of you as he poked his tongue out.

Chris’ hips kept that tantalisingly slow pace, as if his cock was trying to savour every single centimetre of your walls. Your thumb moved, swiping over his bottom lip briefly as his tongue peeked from between his lips to land a couple of tentative swipes on the tip–almost like he was urging you to push it into his mouth. So you did, feeling his plump lips close around the digit as his eyes closed and his eyebrows scrunched together, his hips stuttering slightly–but he recovered quickly.

The air left your lungs the moment Chris’ eyes opened again and stared back at you, swallowing thickly at the sudden deep stroke against you. His hand moved away from yours, bringing it instead to your shoulder to keep you from sliding up as he moved. Removing your hand from his face you brought it close to you, sucking the thumb into your mouth to get the taste of him, all without breaking that borderline dangerous eye-contact you kept with him.

“You’re playing with fire, pretty baby…” The hand on your waist moved, dragging all the way down for him to push on your pubic bone, the pressure making you whimper.

His hip movements were slow, but they had you moaning softly as soon as he started moving, your chest heaving as one of your hands reached to hold onto his on your shoulder and the other gripped the cushion under your head. Licking your lips, you bit back. “I’ve been playing with fire since the day I moved to a werewolf den, babe…”

“Oh?” His hand moved from your shoulder, laying it on the side of your neck while bringing one of your legs to rest against his front with the other hand–settling on your thigh after to grip the flesh as he started to thrust harder, but still slow, the sudden change in angle earning him a surprised moan from your lips. “So all this time you had been trying to rile me up on purpose?”

“Ma–maybe”, fuck, you really could feel him in your throat when he went deep into you, the motions stealing the air out of your lungs every single time and making your eyes flutter and your abdomen clench.

Of course you had been riling him up on purpose. The moment you had realised that you had developed a crush on him you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to get a reaction from him. Looking him in the eyes, wearing questionable outfits when you hung out, or walking around the flat in skimpy pyjamas, sometimes not even wearing underwear underneath. But Chris, good boy Chris, had never even noticed you had done all those things with intent, much less did he make an advance–not until that afternoon when his rut hit him unexpectedly, at least.

“Is that why you’re looking me in the eyes right now? To rile me up? Pretty baby wants me to go feral and try to secure my position in the pack?” Chris chuckled, the hand on your neck moving further up, reaching your cheek to rest on for his thumb to swipe over your bottom lip briefly, only for him to push it into your mouth.

You held his gaze, your tongue licking his digit in your mouth while the pace of his hips picked up, going faster than before but not quite fast yet. You couldn’t help but moan, your eyebrows scrunching together as you struggled slightly to keep your eyes open, which made Chris huff out a chuckle.

His thumb popped out of your mouth, swiping the remaining saliva over your bottom lip and your chin. “I just–Shit, so good, baby…” It was becoming harder and harder to construct coherent sentences, your mind clouding with every clash of his hips against you. “I just like your eyes…” The expression on his face changed, going from that smug look he had when he challenged you to something softer, warmer, and it made your heart flutter. “The–Fuck… The fact that it riles you up is just a bonus, babe”.

Chris laughed at that, removing his hand from your cheek to bring it to your other leg so he could push it to join the other resting against his front. Placing a hand on the sofa for support, he tilted forward, just enough for your hips to angle a certain way under his weight, letting his cock hit that area within your walls that made you arch your back and moan repeatedly. “What a troublemaker… Not even remotely scared of the big bad wolf, hm?”

You swallowed thickly, shaking your head slightly. Heat spread over your face, the new position making you clench your lower abdomen, your eyes fluttering shut as his pace picked up, moving much faster. How could you be scared of them? Of him? You had already trusted him in one of your most vulnerable states, there was no space for fear in you.

Chris’ free hand held onto your legs, your flesh dipping under his tight hold. “Mmm, so pretty. My pretty girl…”

“Chris…” The movement of his hips was getting faster, and, as you stared up at him, with your eyes hyperfocusing on those lips of his, you couldn’t help but feel an urge. “Feels… Fuck. Feels like a criminal offence that you’re not kissing me right now…”

His hold on your legs relented, letting you move them to wrap them around his middle as he leaned into you, his mouth finding yours in a mess of lips, teeth, and tongues while your arms circled his shoulders, one of your hands tangling in his hair as Chris kept himself up on one forearm, the hand on the opposite arm sneaking below your body to hold your buttcheek. You truly felt insatiable when you held onto him like this, feeling him on you, in you, all over you… It’d never be enough of his mouth, of his hands, of his hips and his cock, never enough of him.

His grip on your rear tightened the longer he pounded you, maybe a bit too tight, but you didn’t mind, if anything the more it tightened the more you moaned, the sounds filtering through your kiss. His lower abdomen was stimulating your clit constantly, while his werewolf cock stretched you open, working you up and steadily building your impending release in just the way Chris had learnt how to do it.

When he pulled away from your mouth, his eyes found yours, the lack of a barrier now letting your whines and whimpers run freely from your mouth, joining the sound of your hips colliding as well as the low sounds playing from the now ignored TV in the background and the pitter-patter of rain against the windows of your home. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hips started to move even faster, harder, his grip on your buttock finally relenting just slightly.

“Open your eyes, then. Look at me, love”, his face was close, so you found his eyes with ease. His gaze was enticing, so dark and loaded with all the lust you undoubtedly knew he had for you and you couldn’t help but tremble as soon as you locked eyes with him. It was intense, maybe too intense, that familiar itch sneaking under your skin, urging you to look away. “Don’t you dare look away, pretty. Look your alpha in the eyes just how you like to… Look at me while you cream around my cock”.

Your whole body shook with your release, soft whimpers falling from your lips as warmth spread from your lower abdomen to every single crevice of your body, goosebumps rising on your flesh. You managed to keep your eyes open, the flush you felt on your face deepening under Chris’ heavy gaze.

The after effects of your orgasm weakened your hold around him, letting Chris pull himself from your embrace with ease, his cock leaving the comfort of your tight walls for them to be replaced with his hand, pumping his length right above your lower belly. “So fucking good for me–Fuck!”

You couldn’t help the whine that escaped you as you felt his warm seed painting your body, covering your entire torso from your mound to your chest, some of it almost landing on your chin as the most delicious, most sinful sounds left his mouth. You loved to hear him moan and grunt and groan and any time he came you couldn’t help but let yourself enjoy those sounds, your swollen core clenching around nothing as you bit your lip and more heat crept onto your face.

Chris was panting heavily, his face and his chest were flushed and he looked down at you with so much care in his eyes you couldn’t help but blush further. Eyeing your body up and down for a second, his tongue peeked out from between his lips, only to finally dip, licking a long stripe from your belly, between your breasts, until he reached your chest, effectively collecting some of his seed in his mouth.

Taking a hold of your face, with your chin now resting in his palm as his fingers lightly dug on your cheeks, he leaned in, pushing his tongue into your mouth for you to lick his cum off of him. All you could do was moan, holding onto him as you lapped him up. It was not the first time he had made you eat the results of his climax like this, and it would certainly not be the last, you liked it too much. You truly had hit the jackpot with the supernatural boyfriend who produced an ungodly amount of fluids and had little inhibitions when it came to the bedroom.

“Fuck, babe… You’re gonna kill me one of these days”, you murmured against his mouth, completely breathless.

Chris just laughed softly, moving away from your mouth to pepper kisses around your face–your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids, your chin, anywhere he felt like kissing, all while his fingers brushed over your now soiled body, only to finally reach your heat, easing two of his fingers between your folds to get at least some of his seed into your cunt.

“You’re so good to me, pretty…” Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he left kisses on your neck, too–his body shuffling a bit to finally let his fingers out of you and lay comfortably on you without crushing you, completely uncaring of his cum sticking to him.

Holding Chris in your arms as your hand sneaked in his hair and softly caressed his scalp was possibly one of your favourite activities, especially after sex. It made you feel warm and fuzzy and you knew it made him feel that way, too. ‘If werewolves could purr, you’d certainly be purring now, baby’, you had told him once, which had only made him further bury his face in your neck and his ears turn a cute shade of pink.

A sudden frantic knocking reverberated in your flat, breaking your little bubble and disrupting the comfortable silence that had settled between you two, making Chris groan. “I can’t believe them… Right now of all times…” He rubbed his face on your shoulder, while you simply chuckled, patting him on the back.

“You should answer, darling. Whoever it is clearly needs you enough to knock this much”.

With a dramatic sigh, Chris removed himself from your space, reaching for his discarded vest top on the floor to wipe the cum sticking to his abs, his chest, and his chin, handing it over to you to do the same while he walked towards the front door, still pretty much butt-naked.

Chris opened the door slightly, ajar enough just to peek his head around and see outside. “We’re fucking, what do you want?” Annoyance rolled thickly off of him, and his comment made you laugh from where you were laying on the sofa.

“Sorry, man, but I really need to talk”, you recognised the voice on the other side of the door as Changbin, the man completely unfazed by Chris’ comment–which didn’t surprise you, considering how common this exact situation had become in your life.

“Can’t it wait like… Two hours?”

“Two hours?!” Changbin shrieked. “No it cannot wait two fucking hours! It’s really urgent!”

Chris sighed, and he shot you an apologetic look. You just smiled at him, gesturing for him to carry on. “Fine, give me a few minutes”, with that, Chris closed the door, coming back to you on the sofa, picking up his discarded shorts as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry, baby. We’re gonna have to pick this up later”.

Shaking your head, you placed a kiss on his cheek, truly feeling okay with it. “No need for apologies”, standing up from the sofa, you picked up the hoodie from the floor, holding it to your chest as you walked past your boyfriend, making your way to the bathroom. “Pack matters are of the utmost importance, babe. You can’t leave our pups hanging”.

“Fuck, I’m trying not to fuck you”, Chris came to your side, smacking your rear playfully as you continued walking. “Don’t go all ‘Pack Mum’ on me, I’ll seriously need to leave Changbin standing out there if you do”.

You just laughed in response, a soft blush spreading over your cheeks as you finally made it to the bathroom so you could clean up the remnants of his cum from your body.

Author’s note x2: if you’re curious as to what Changbin needed so urgently, you can take a look at Finding Comfort in Autumn :)

Constructive feedback is always welcome !

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments: It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids fantasy AU #stray kids werewolf au #bang chan smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #werewolf chan #✨🌙✏

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hellfirenacht · 30 days

Text

Wing Man 11

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Steve talks shit. Paige and Eddie talk business.

5.2k words

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Working for Family Video came with many upsides, especially when you worked with people who you also enjoyed seeing outside of the store. Rentals were already dirt cheap with your employee discount, and near expired candy and popcorn never quite made it into the dumpster out back and somehow magically appeared in your bag instead at the end of your shift.

You always liked to think that Family Video was sponsoring your bi-monthly movie nights with Steve and Robin. The Harrington household was always the meeting spot, as he was the only one who had a tv and VCR in his room. Well, you did as well now after Keith had tossed out an old player, saying it was broken. You’d brought it home to tinker with and found that some kid had stuck gum in the tape slot. It had taken you a week to clean and another month to figure out how to hook everything back up, but it was yours. Steve still had the nicer home and tv though, and more importantly his parents bought brand name snacks.

The three of you were in Steve’s living room, the movie playing on the screen long forgotten as the three of you caught up with each other. Robin was usually the barometer for if a movie was worth watching, she and Steve might have had very different tastes, but Steve would usually get sucked up into whatever movie she chose.

“So is his band any good?” Robin asked, dumping a bag of m&ms into her bowl of popcorn.

“I think so.” you shrugged, cracking open a drink. “If anything, they’re good enough to be scouted twice.”

“By the same person.” Steve pointed out. “You know, his ex.”

You had brought the news of Eddie’s meet up with Paige to your friends with mixed results. Robin seemed indifferent, but that’s because most of the time she didn’t have the same interest in talking about boys. Steve, however, seemed less than thrilled about this idea.

“Yes, Steve, his ex. As in, not together anymore.” you sighed, wishing you felt as confident as you sounded. “Whatever happened between them sounded like it blew up for both of them.”

“But she still wants to have lunch with him!” Steve said.

“Yes, to talk about the band!” you shot back. “And it’s lunch. Didn’t you tell me that dinner is a date and lunch is just two people hanging out?”

“Since when does my advice apply to you or Eddie?”

“Since Paige isn’t me or Eddie, so your dating advice might actually apply here.” you snapped and took a breath. “Sorry. This is all new to me. I’m really not sure how I’m supposed to feel right now. It’s like every time things start to go well with me and Eddie, something happens. Paige, Chris, you-”

“Hey-”

“I like him a lot.” You leaned back against the couch, grabbing the popcorn bowl from Robin. “When I’m with him, I get that same feeling that I do when I’m hanging out with you two or when I’m at the show every month. I don’t feel like I’m hiding myself when he’s around.”

“There are other weirdos and freaks around.” Steve pointed out. “If I had known there were that many of you around, I would have agreed to go to the show earlier to help you get phone numbers.”

“Yeah, but have you seen the way she looks when she’s talking about Eddie?” Robin hopped into the conversation. “I don’t think anyone even existed to her that night.”

It was true, no one other than your friends and (unfortunately) Chris had truly registered to you at the show. Yeah, you’d noticed the few cast members but they weren’t the metal head with the long hair and crop top that had held your hand all night.

“Oh shit, did I tell you guys that we ran into Chris?!” You asked suddenly, changing the subject.

“Wait, that guy you and Eddie kept talking shit about?” Steve turned to look at you, grabbing a handful of popcorn and getting crumbs on the couch.

“Yeah!” you said. “He actually works for the show now, I guess? He said he’s been there for a while and he’s seen me at the show before. It was so fucking weird.”

“Is that the guy who said you were too normal to play with Hellfire?” Robin asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, and he ran Hellfire into the ground until Eddie took over. And now he’s doing tech for the show. Also, he was Rocky in the shadow cast.”

“The guy in the metallic shorts?!” Steve gawked.

“Columbia did say that the cast changed for the night.” Robin said, and you gave her a quizzical look, remembering the lipstick mark you’d seen on her jaw that night. “She came by and talked to us before the show!”

“She couldn’t resist my charm.” Steve gave you a smile that you were sure worked with someone like Nancy Wheeler, or Tammy Thompson. You just shook your head and laughed.

“Right, anyway. Chris came and talked to us after the show and he told me auditions are gonna be open for the cast. He gave me his card, and told me that it was invite only.” you explained.

“You’ve been talking about wanting to be part of that since we started working together.” Steve said.

“Yeah, I guess I get a shot to do something, too.”

“Chris turned you down for Hellfire, and now is letting you audition?” Robin asked.

“We aren’t in school anymore.” you pointed out. “I know how it sounds, but none of us are the same people we were back then. I’m not the same person I was two years ago, none of us are.”

“I hate it when you’re right, you know.”

“I’m just saying that if I can give you the benefit of the doubt and make friends with you then maybe Chris isn’t as big of a prick as he was back then. I might not have even given Eddie a chance, either.” You picked out a few m&ms from the popcorn bucket, getting your fingers covered with butter and colored candy coating. “I mean, at the end of the day, isn't that what this whole deal was about? Shaking off old habits and trying to step outside of contentment?”

“I thought your deal was so that you can stop having Steve check you out every time you wanted to rent porn.” Robin snickered.

“I thought we were just trying to get dates.” Steve looked confused and you gave him a pat on the head. It always amused you how his hair could spring back into place like that.

“That too.” you said.

“So, you’re really okay with Eddie going to see his ex?” Steve said, forcing you back into that topic.

”I’m not thrilled about it.” You finally admitted. “But we only went on one date and this might help his band. Besides, if we start... Whatever this is without some sort of trust then is it even worth starting?”

“So you trust him?”

“I trust you and Dustin, who vouched for him. He was honest enough to tell me that it’s his ex who wants to talk about his band. What happens next is up to him.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Steve relented and his eyes wandered back to the tv.

You didn’t, but you were tired of letting other people tell you what you should or shouldn’t do.

Ever since Benny’s shut down, there wasn’t really any good place to meet up with someone for lunch in town. Every time he had seen Paige before, it had either been at the Hideout, or his van. Neither of which was really a good place to talk about Corroded Coffin.

It was Paige’s idea to meet at the small hole-in-the-wall pub that was just out of Eddie’s comfort zone in terms of price. Eddie arrived on Saturday afternoon, earlier than he meant to with his nerves. He leaned against the wall outside of the pub, watched the cars go by as he waited for her.

She didn’t leave him waiting for long, and ten minutes before their agreed upon time, Paige was standing in front of him for the first time in over two years. She hadn’t grown an inch, but her wavy dark hair had, and now barely brushed her shoulders. In the daylight, Eddie could see a faint tint of red that he never noticed before. Other than two or three times, he realized that he and Paige had never spent a lot of time together when the sun was out. Paige’s freckles were as prominent as ever.

To Eddie’s surprise, she looked happy to see him.

“Hi, Eddie.” she said, and to his relief she didn’t go in for a hug.

“Hi, Paige.” He responded and reached over to open the door to the pub for her.

The two didn’t say anything until they were sitting at a dimly lit booth in the corner, where Paige broke the ice.

“Before we get into any business talk, I need you to be honest with me.” She started, sitting up straight and looking him in the eyes. “If you care about your future in music, and your band, you need to tell me what happened. Tell me how you ended up in jail two days before the most important moment in either of our careers.”

Eddie had expected this, and the past week had been spent trying to find a way to spin the story so that he didn’t look like the biggest asshole on the planet. In the end, he decided that he should be honest with her. Paige wanted real, and he would give that to her, tarnish and all.

Someone came by and took their drink orders, giving Eddie a moment to collect his thoughts.

“I did something stupid.” He started.

“Obviously.” She gave him a wry smile.

“Moving to California isn’t cheap.” He watched the tone of his voice, searching for that piece of him that made Hellfire and Corroded Coffin listen to him. Being a dungeon master for so long had given him a way of speaking that could draw someone in when he tried, and right now he knew he needed to try and convince Paige that Corroded Coffin deserved a second chance. “I needed a way to pay for everything that came with moving across country. My dad... he-” Eddie’s voice wavered for a brief moment. “He had an idea to make some quick cash for the two of us. It wasn’t smart, and it really wasn’t legal.”

“Jesus,” Paige sighed, looking at him with a deep frown. “I would have helped you, Eddie. I was already willing to let you live with me for free until we got you set up. I told you that you didn’t have to be alone in this.”

Asking for and accepting help wasn’t something that Eddie was ever good at. He’d been hyper-independent since he was a child, when his dad would disappear for long stretches of time, even after his mom died. Asking for help after (or especially because) Paige had put in so much money and effort for him already, wasn’t something that he could bring himself to do.

“I know.” Eddie said. “I had this stupid idea that if I didn’t make the effort on my own, then I didn’t deserve the change. So I did something stupid, really fucking stupid, and it cost me everything.”

“Mark told me that you shot a cop.” Paige said, and before Eddie could speak up, she continued. “I didn’t believe him. When I wired the money, I was able to get an idea of what happened. You saved that guys life.”

“I couldn’t let him just bleed out on my yard.” Eddie said. “I couldn’t- it wouldn’t be right to run away like that.”

“You really caused a lot of trouble, you know that?”

“I know.” Eddie took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I did a lot of stupid shit I shouldn’t have, and I paid the price. It cost me more than just the audition.”

There was a time between getting the news about his audition with WR Records and the heist that Eddie flew. He had everything he had ever wanted; he got the girl, had his dad back, he had a future, which was something he never thought he’d have. For a few beautiful weeks, he had spiraled up, up, and up.

In the end though, what goes up must come down. Eddie had reached for something that would never be meant for someone with the last name ‘Munson’. He had crashed back down to earth, to the reality of who he was and it had cost him everything. His dad, his childhood house, his audition, Paige, and even Ronnie for a short time.

For the next two years, Eddie swore to never even think about reaching for the sun again.

“Thank you for being honest with me.” Paige said. “I still think you’re an asshole.”

“I was an asshole.” He didn’t even try to fight it. “The biggest one in Hawkins.”

Even with her declaration, Paige still had a look on her face that was the ghost of an expression she had in the passenger side of his van on the night that she had given him the news that WR Records had liked him.

“Things went downhill for me when you bailed on the audition.” Paige said, and Eddie swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. He had never known what had happened with her after their fight over the phone. “I got in a lot of trouble because of you. Davey doesn’t like anyone, but he liked you. When I couldn’t get you out there, it really screwed up any trust I had with my job.”

She stopped talking for a moment as a waiter came by and dropped off their food. Eddie couldn’t bring himself to touch the overpriced sandwich in front of him yet. His mouth felt dry and he reached for his water instead.

“I was stuck in a dead end job, where any talent I tried to bring to the label was shot down without being given a chance. I was being paid to do nothing, except babysit the studio and paperwork. I got demoted, and I was already at the bottom of the totem pole.” Paige never looked away from Eddie, her gaze unflinching and sharp. “I stopped liking music.”

Guilt washed over Eddie, and there was something in him that screamed at him to run away to avoid this. Being the reason someone stopped liking music? He knew he’d fucked up but that... that was something deeper than just missing an audition.

“They didn’t have the means to really fire me, I hadn’t done anything wrong.” she continued. “They moved me to a smaller label under the WR name. That label was where acts they had given up on went to die.”

“Which label?” Eddie managed to ask, despite how dry his mouth felt. Even the water wasn’t helping.

“Left Turn Media.” Paige said.

During those weeks when things had been good between the two of them, Paige had mentioned the label once or twice. It was considered a death sentence to be put on that label, and working for them was WR’s way to get people to quit without firing them. The two had listened to a few cassettes from the label. The bands weren’t bad, and that was what stuck out to Eddie. The music wasn’t bad, but it was clear that the production was lacking and half-assed. Paige said that the music would be sent out to small radio stations to be played in the middle of the night.

“Shit.” Eddie said.

“Yeah, shit.” Paige let out a laugh. “But if there’s one thing I am, it’s stubborn. I threw myself into my work. I’ve been spending the last two years breaking down and completely reassembling Left Turn, and now I’m in charge of it.”

“You.” His eyes went wide as he stared at her. “You’re in charge of Left Turn Media.”

“It’s amazing what you can do when you’re pissed and have something to prove.” Paige shrugged. “I had a lot of time to think about my relationship with music in the last few years. I realized if I wanted to bring something real to the music scene of L.A. I was going to have to do it myself.”

Her dark lips curled up into a smile. “I should almost thank you for fucking up. Because you bailed, I was put in charge of a sinking ship. I patched it up with my own time and money and now Left Turn has become the label for all misfit bands who don’t fit any shiny polished label. I proved to myself and everyone around me that I belong in this industry.”

“I-” Eddie wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond to that. “You’re welcome...?”

“We’re expanding the label outside of California.” She continued. “I’m in charge so I’m trying to bring good music to my hometown. It’s still not the biggest label, and we can’t offer half of what the bigger labels would, but it’s something.”

“And what are you offering?” Eddie felt dizzy, the more she talked. His words were careful, as if asking the wrong question could end in another blow up between the two of them.

“What I’m offering is another chance for Corroded Coffin to be signed.” Paige’s arms crossed over her chest. “Left Turn is still finding its footing outside of L.A., so we’re flexible. I’m here to work with local radio and college stations around Indiana to get them to play the few bands we’ve signed so far. Who we have are okay, but they aren’t...”

“Real?”

“Eddie you have something, as much as I never wanted to admit it again after what happened between us. There’s something about the way that you play that I haven’t been able to find since. I could do this without you, but I think that this is the real sink or swim moment. WR Records goes on with or without you, but I think what you have is what could turn Left Turn around.” Page took a deep breath. “If Corroded Coffin wants another shot, this would be it. If you still have that do-or-die energy when you play, I could offer you a real deal to put together an album. I could get you on the radio.”

Eddie listened to her words, taking in what she was offering. Yes, it wouldn’t be the easy street that WR would have been able to offer, but it would be something. And this time, it wouldn’t just be him auditioning, but Corroded Coffin was wanted this time.

“You’re serious.” Eddie said, his heart rate picking up.

“As serious as shooting a cop.”

“Jesus.” Eddie couldn’t stop himself from letting out a laugh. He ran his fingers through his hair, messing up his fringe as he replayed everything that Paige had just told him in his mind. She wanted him to audition again. This was a chance that he wasn’t sure could be passed up.

“Some of the band is still in high school.” He said, feeling reality settle like a stone in his stomach. He didn’t mention that his name was on that roster.

“Like I said, we’re flexible.” Paige said. “I still need you all to audition again, and even then it’s going to take me a few months to set anything up here for the band. I want you all to audition with me and a few others from the label before the end of the year. If everything goes according to plan, Left Turn might have the recording studio ready by next June.”

“You’re setting up your own recording studio?” Eddie perked up, the anxiety and guilt that he had originally felt was now shifting into something new. He found himself relaxing enough to eat his overpriced sandwich.

“Yes. We need something that’s a step above Live Mike Studios in Lafayette. We have the building picked out and are already gutting it for Left Turn.”

“You’ve really thought of everything, haven’t you?” Eddie smiled at her.

“I have.” Paige agreed. “But I learned not to put all my eggs into one basket. This industry has taught me to have a plan A, B C, and D.” She let out a long sigh. “I made it to plan L before and I would prefer not to do that again.”

“What was plan L?”

“If I go into the whole story, I’ll need a strong drink. It involved a guitar player with his head up his ass thinking he was going to be the next Gene Simmons.” Paige groaned.

“Gene Simmons doesn’t play guitar.” Eddie pointed out. Paige gave him a thousand yard stare, which said everything he needed to know. “Ok. Gotcha.”

“I’m hoping to get everything set up with minimal surprises.” She concluded. “Get with your band. I’m going to be in town for the rest of the year setting things up.”

Eddie nodded. “So... why Indiana?” he asked. “You were in California. Why come back here to set this up?”

“Like I said, I want to bring good music to my hometown. Once everything’s done, I’ll be able to move back and forth from California to here.”

“And Corroded Coffin?”

“Will stay in Indiana.” She said firmly. “I can’t turn you into the Rock Hero you could have been two years ago, but I can try and make you a Hometown Hero.”

Another story. Paige had always been good at spinning stories. Once upon a time, Eddie had been a barback turned frontman turned Rock Hero. Now he’d be barback turned frontman turned Hometown Hero. That part felt less believable than before.

That’s how Paige saw him, but how did he see himself? Barback turned front man turned drug thief turned drug dealer turned uber senior? None of that was a story worth selling. And what about the rest of his band? Would Gareth, Jeff, or Zack want to be part of this? Ronnie hadn’t, she just wanted to play just to play. Jeff had been excited about this when the opportunity was first presented, but would he still want the chance? Gareth was the youngest and still had over a year of school left.

One thing at a time.

“I’ll talk to the guys next practice.” Eddie said.

“Good. Are you still playing at the Hideout?” Paige asked.

Eddie froze for a second, as he imagined Paige and you in the same space to watch him play. He imagined your excited face, and the way you would cheer for them after every song, the excitement that radiated off of you after every set. Even earlier this week, when you’d dropped by to watch them, knowing that Eddie was going to see Paige, you’d still shown the same enthusiasm as before.

He’d thrown you another pick. You’d handed it back to him at the end of the night, telling him that he could toss it at you again next week.

“You look like someone who loses your picks the second they are out of your sight.”

You’d been right. The only one he could consistently find was the one he’d turned into a necklace. His dad’s picks had been packed away, shoved under his bed where he wouldn’t see them. Eddie didn’t use those picks anymore.

A few weeks ago, he couldn’t stop comparing you to Paige, but now he couldn’t stop thinking about how different you two were.

“Yeah, we play on Tuesdays now.” Eddie said. “People stopped complaining enough that Bev decided to give us a steady slot.”

“Good to know.” Paige said. She wasn’t confirming or denying if she’d show up, but that look in her eyes said that he could expect to see her again soon.

After all, The Hideout was the only place in twenty miles of Hawkins that offered any live music.

For the rest of the meal, the two caught up with each other. It didn’t feel as weird as Eddie would have expected, but it was nice. He let Paige do most of the talking, letting her tell him about her work in the industry, he didn’t need her knowing more than she needed to if he wanted to have this shot. Would she want to sign a bunch of high schoolers? He hadn’t even told Paige the first time that he had dropped out when Higgins blackmailed him.

That was alright for now though. Paige talking meant that he didn’t have to and he added to the conversation by asking plenty of questions about her work. Hearing about the music industry from her end was something that he had a genuine interest in, anyway.

Paige told him about how she had been given a copy of Iron’s Maiden’s Live After Death by Davey. She was even willing to make Eddie a copy of it. It wasn’t the video, but he wasn’t about to turn down audio of one of his favorite bands that wasn’t even released in the US.

When the check came, Paige didn’t even blink as she paid the tab and the two of them made their way outside again. It was still pretty early in the afternoon, and the chill of the late autumn air contrasted the bright blue sky.

Trying to still be somewhat of a gentleman, Eddie walked Paige to her car as she recounted the tale of how she had been on the flight from Indianapolis to Los Angeles where Izzy Stradlin had been arrested for pissing in front of everyone.

Paige stopped with her hand on the door to her car before turning around to face Eddie before getting in.

“I don’t hate you, you know.” she said. “I was mad for a really long time at what you did. But I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Eddie.”

Eddie didn’t feel like he deserved the forgiveness she was offering him. Being told that he was anything other than some satanic cult leader or freak wasn’t something he’d ever get used to.

“Paige I...” He wasn’t sure what to say.

She had that look in her eyes, the same look she’d had after she’d given him the news about his original audition. What are you waiting for? Paige was moving closer, freckles like constellations on her skin and the moon in her eyes eclipsed by her eyelids.

Eddie's hand fell on Paige’s shoulder before her lips could get any closer to his. “I can’t.” he said.

Her face went through a few emotions. Surprise, disappointment, and settling on embarrassment.

“Shit. Sorry.” Paige said, shaking her head.

“No it’s.. It’s fine.” Eddie said, and he could have sworn that Paige looked just as confused as he did. “I don’t think it’s a great idea to do.... That.”

Eddie hadn’t once entertained the idea of Paige and him together again. It didn’t feel right. He wouldn’t lie and say that he didn’t find her attractive, but it wasn’t the same feeling he got that first night in the Hideout. As a teen, he’d been thrilled that a pretty girl was paying any attention to him at all, and was willing to do anything and be anything she wanted.

Any relationship with Paige was business, plain and simple. She wanted a Rock Hero to help her get up the ladder, Eddie wanted to make it with his band. Sex had just been a bonus in their past relationship. Paige knew her stuff with music and the industry, but she didn’t rant about Ozzy and his bats, or have a real interest in D&D or put herself out there the same way that you-

“I’m seeing someone.” He blurted out before Paige could say anything else.

Paige looked surprised for a moment and shook her head and laughed. “Right. That... I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I did that.” she admitted. “I guess I got swept up in this stupid fantasy about being a power couple. We’re a bad idea.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie said, not sure what else could be said in this situation.

“Don’t be. You’re right, ‘us’ is a bad idea.” she ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s a good thing my offer isn’t dependent on if we’re sleeping together or not.”

“I know you bought me lunch, are giving my band a second chance, and forgave me for one of the biggest fuck ups of my life, but I don’t put out that easy.” Eddie smiled at her, trying to lighten the mood.

Paige offered her hand and Eddie took it. “Business only then.” she said. “Talk to your band and call me to set up the audition.”

Eddie watched Paige’s car drive off, and suddenly felt a lot lighter. He blasted his music and drove home, nearly laughing like a maniac. Today had been a wild roller coaster of emotions, and he couldn’t wait until the next band practice to bring the news to his band.

At home, he grabbed his guitar and immediately began sorting through Corroded Coffin’s small pile of original songs, and the covers that they were able to perform the best. Eddie was off, lost in his own world as he wrote, re-wrote, and re-worked the set list.

What would you think? Would you be excited for him? If this worked, he was going to make sure to get you concert tickets. Okay, he was getting ahead of himself. Maybe you could at least come for the audition as moral support. His band liked you, so maybe they wouldn’t mind.

Eddie didn’t come back down to Earth until the phone rang that evening after Wayne went to work. He almost missed the call because of how deep he was into perfecting the riff that had eluded him for the past few months, determined now more than ever to get it down.

He reached the phone on the last possible ring. “Hello?”

“Hey... Eddie?” Your voice cracked over the phone, and that feeling of excitement came crashing down. “Sorry I... Can you come pick me up? I’m at home.”

You were crying. He could hear it in the way your voice strained and cracked. He was already reaching for his keys.

“I’ll be right there.”

a/n: As I stated before, I do like to try and keep everything as time accurate as possible. However things happen, and sometimes things are too good not to use. The Izzy Stradlin incident did not happen until 1989, but the fact that it was on a flight from Indianapolis to LA was too good to pass up. I also would like to notate that I did make a mistake when it came to the Ozzy Bat Incident. It was not a 17 year old girl, it was a 17 year old boy and the bat was already dead. Chalk that inaccuracy up to the tabloids of the time, and the lack of Google. No, this will not be addressed in the future of the fic unless it’s funny.

Dividers By: @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288 @sheneedsrocknroll92

#nacht fic #wing man #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you

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crash-and-live · 6 months

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So I haven't written anything in a long time, let alone published anything, but I thought I'd give things a try with @bunnyreaper's Secret Santa writing fest. My recipient is @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff. Hope you enjoy <3

Pairing: John Price x GN!Reader (male pronouns used) with slight John Price x Reader x Simon Riley but a lot is left up to insintuation.

Summary: You're a civilian with a curious neighbour whom you rarely see, yet manage to get roped into taking care of his place when he's gone. You've known him for a while and your relationship slowly develops as the festive season approaches.

Domestic fluff mostly, playful banter and all but essentially a nice lil feel-good fic. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.8k

The night air was warm as you walked to the door of your flat, reaching into your pockets for the familiar feel of your keys. Pulling them out, you click open the lock before glancing over at your neighbour’s door. You hadn’t seen him much over the years, even less so recently. There were about two times you could recall hearing him move around the small flat in the past couple of months, before he vanished again soon after. He’d always been nice to you, in a gruff sort of way. Asked you to mind his plants on his balcony next to yours which wasn’t too hard. It clearly meant something to him as he always left a thank you note under your doormat with a small token of gratitude.

He had said he travelled for work, and he wasn’t kidding. Every small item he’d left on your doorstep had been from a different country. Either a small trinket or stamp from places all around the world. You almost wished you could leave him something, but whenever you heard him next door and made plans to visit the next day, he was gone again. It tugged at your heart slightly, the amount this man, John, he’d introduced himself as that first time you’d met him, spent at work. It seemed to consume his life. He’d never had a visitor. Never gotten a parcel or a letter. Not once. No friend or relative ever knocked at your door asking for a ‘John’. It made you wonder… just who exactly was your neighbour?

Shaking your head, you pushed your way inside and closed the door behind you, locking it before dumping your bags onto the small table before sprawling onto the couch, groaning in relief. Today had been hard. Not only had work been tough, but approaching the busy period brought a whole new level of stress. You could already feel your eyes fluttering shut before you heard a crash coming from next door, followed by a gruff noise. You couldn’t fight the grin that spread over your cheeks as the tiredness left your body. He was home.

✯

“Sorry that I disturbed you.” His voice was husky, like you’d remembered as your eyes traced his face. His skin was weathered and his beard quite bushy, as if he’d been unable to access a mirror for a while. You’d gone over just to be friendly, to welcome him home because he must be lonely, to check on him and be nice. Or at least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

“You didn’t, truly. I’m almost glad I heard you. It’s been a while.” A soft smile spread over your lips as you took in his rugged appearance. Whatever he’d been gone for, you could tell it had taken a toll on him. Lines were heavy on his face and his shoulders were slumped. His eyes weren’t focused like they usually were, instead choosing to check every corner of the flat as if he were expecting something to jump out of the shadows. Your brows furrowed in concern. “Are you alright?”

“Don’t concern yourself with me, kid. I’ll be fine.” He shuts down the conversation because it could even begin. Pursing your lips, you nodded in acknowledgement. It was the one thing you’d noted about him. He was fine talking to you, asking about you and your life, but immediately shut the conversation down when it came to him. “Just been a rough few months.”

Kid. He always called you that. A constant reminder of how he saw you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed, but practically, you also knew it would never work. So, you sucked it up, soaked in every chance of communication you could with this man. “Anything I can do to help?” You tried to keep your voice neutral, but there was a hopeful lilt to it. John simply chuckled, shaking his head as he did so.

“No, kid. You’re fine. You do enough for me.”

“I water your plants, John.” You mused, fingers clutching at the glass he’d slid across the bench to you. “I think I can be a little more of service if you need, even if it’s just company.”

John smiled, kindlier this time. “You calling me lonely, kid?”

“Am I wrong?” The corners of your mouth quirked up into a smile in response to his own.

“I have friends. All of them are like me though. A little off the grid, rough around the edges. Work consumes my life. I don’t have a lot of time for anything else.” His response was measured, as if warning you not to press any further. As if he’d already said enough. You sucked your teeth and gave a half-hearted shrug, letting the matter drop.

✯

The next time you saw him was a few weeks later. You were bringing groceries in the late afternoon as he was leaving, heavy bag slung over his broad shoulders. He smiled softly when he saw you and you couldn’t help but flash a wide smile to him.

“I didn’t know you were home.” You said, placing your bags on the front of your door.

“Had no chance to tell you, kid. Got in late last night and already been called out again.” He shrugged, as if it didn’t really bother him. He would be used to it, you guessed. Didn’t mean that it didn’t take its toll.

“Ever heard of taking a break?” You gave him a cheeky smile, cocking an eyebrow as he let out a breathy chuckle.

“Not in my line of work. Always something that needs to be done.”

“Do you need me to do anything for you?” You asked again, hoping he’d take you up on the offer. This time, John remained silent for a beat before nodding.

“Actually, yeah. Was meant to be home for a bit longer so I bought a bit of food. Take what you want and chuck the rest from the fridge. Don’t think much of it will keep.” He held out his key towards you. Your heart skipped a beat as you glanced between his eyes and the key in his outstretched hand. You nodded in response, reaching out and taking the key from his hand, feeling the roughness of his palm.

“Thanks.” His voice pitched down slightly, the gruffness sending a shiver down your spine. John gives you a slight nod before glancing at his watch. “Gotta run. I’ll knock on your door for the keys when I get back, yeah? Or if it’s easier, chuck ‘em on my balcony. I’ll get in either way.” And then he was gone before you could even say goodbye.

You stood there, looking down the corridor where he’d turned the corner before glancing down at the keys in the palm of your hand. It was plain, with two keys and a leather strap with no markings. But it was him. Closing your fingers over the cool metal, you turned to your groceries, picking them up and taking them inside, set on composing yourself for a few moments before you ventured into his flat.

You’d been in his flat a few times before, but never been past the open plan of the main area. This time, you resisted the temptation to snoop through his belongings, despite the nagging curiosity. He was clearly a private man, who didn’t like to share his personal business. What kind of betrayal of trust would it be for him to hand you his keys, only for you to be nosey and intrude? You didn’t want to think about that. Instead, you dutifully went to his fridge and cupboard, and emptied them as he requested.

That became a part of your regular routine. He left you his keys when he went away, told you to help yourself to whatever remained of his food. At first, you harboured some sense of guilt over it, taking his food. But as time went on, you convinced yourself he’d been buying more food especially for you, even going as far as to buy a few packets of your favourite treats that always went untouched by him, saved for you. Your cheeks burned at the thought of him thinking about you. So you repaid the favour in kind, making a few extra meals and placing them in his freezer, so he’d have something to eat when he came home.

✯

Amid your usual dinner preparations at the end of the working week, a sharp knock rang through your flat, impatient, and demanding. John never usually knocked like that, you thought, furrowing your brows as you made your way to the door. Maybe he’d had a rough time at work and was more tense than usual. Upon opening the door however, your eyes widened as you noticed a giant of a man, a black balaclava with white markings on his face. The only part of him you could see was his eyes, dark and steely as he held out his hand.

“Keys.” His deep voice was cold as he stared down at you imposingly.

“I’m sorry?” You wished your voice was a little firmer but given the sheer size and presence of this man, you could forgive yourself.

“Keys.” He said again, more impatiently. “For the guy next door. Sent me to grab them for him.” Brows pinching together, you shook your head.

“I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“Don’t be dense.” He snarled, stepping closer to you, eyes narrowing as he pushed himself over your threshold. Breath hitching, you stepped back, trying to close your door on the stranger, but he barred it with his arm. “Need the keys for John’s flat. Now.”

“Simon!” A familiar voice snapped from down the hall. “Don’t be hostile. He’s not a threat.” John appeared around the corner, hugging his side as he groaned, leaning against the cool stone. His face was pale and bruised, causing your eyes to widen further.

“John!” Not caring about the stranger in your doorstep, you pushed past him, rushing towards your neighbour. “Are you okay? What happened?” Your voice was panicked as you rushed over to him, hands fluttering around his battered body. Letting out a weary sigh, John pushed off the wall.

“‘M fine, kid. Just been a rough few days.” He placed a large hand on your shoulder reassuringly, squeezing it tenderly before nodding over to the man by your door. “Don’t worry about him. He hasn’t got manners like me.”

You flushed slightly, looking back at the other man, Simon, as John had called him. Tracing your eyes over his face, you could see him squint and cock an eyebrow, as though waiting for you to comment. But you don’t. Instead, you reach into your pocket and grab out the keys to John’s flat, throwing them to Simon.

“The deadbolt is the gold one, door handle is the silver.” Simon nodded and turned to John’s door as you looked back around to face your neighbour. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can bring you anything. First aid? Towels?” But John shook his head.

“No, kid. I’ll be alright. Got Simon.” He said weakly, pushing off the wall as Simon stomped over, hooking John’s arm over his shoulder before he rushed inside, kicking the door shut with his heavy boots, causing it to slam in your face.

The next morning, you were out on your balcony with a coffee when John pushed open his door for his morning cigar. He stopped when he saw you out there, before glancing inside hesitantly.

“Your friend doesn’t seem to like me.” You mused, guessing that was the cause of John’s wariness. Your sly remark was rewarded with a hearty chuckle, cut short by a wince as he clutched his side. Your brows pinched together at the reaction and he noticed the concern laced in your features.

“I’m fine, love. I’ve had much worse than a few cracked ribs. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” Heat coursed through your body at the term of endearment. He’d never said that to you before. Suppressing a grin, you met his warm eyes, crinkling slightly with a reassuring smile as the cigar smoke surrounded him. “And don’t fret too much about Simon. He’s a just grumpy lad.”

“He could do with taking a few etiquette lessons.” You grumbled, but the corners of your mouth twitched upwards and was met with yet another hearty chuckle from John, the sounds making your heart race.

“You’re a good lad too. Thanks for taking care of the place. I appreciate it.” The mood softened between the two of you as the cold morning wind picked up. You shivered. “Tell me, why’s your heating unit not been on? Weather’s been right chilly.” Inwardly, you cursed that he’d noticed, but of course he would. He’s been far more observant than any person you’d come across. Shrugging, you replied.

“Broke a few days ago. Haven’t been able to get anyone in to fix it, being so close to Christmas and all. Everyone’s either finishing up for the year, or already fully booked.” John clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“Can’t be having that now love, can we? I’ll give it a look later but, in the meantime, come over to mine. Want to make sure you’re warm in this weather.” Blinking, you raised your head to begin to protest, but he’d already stubbed out his cigar and turned to his door. “Come on, love. It’s almost Christmas after all, no one should be alone and cold. Let us warm you up.” Was all he said before stepping inside and closing the door behind him, leaving you to ruminate.

Exactly ten minutes later, you were outside John’s door, stomach twisting as you thought about his earlier words. Us. Meaning he wasn’t alone. Meaning Simon was still here. Running your thumb along your knuckles, you debated heading back into yours when John’s door was pulled open. Except it wasn’t John standing there, but Simon. His large, hulking frame taking up most of the space in the doorway, and making you tilt your head up slightly to look into his eyes, the only part of his face visible under the mask.

“You gonna stand there gawkin’ at the door all day?” His words were gruff, but the sentence might have ended with a huff, as if he were making fun of you. Your stomach twisted even more at the rough timbre of his voice. Biting your lip, you decided to throw a bit of cheek to him.

“You gonna slam the door in my face again?” Your ears didn’t deceive you this time as Simon let out another huff, this time leaning against the door frame as his arms folded and head tilted, eyes carefully focused on yours.

“There were more important things to do than chit-chat.” Right. That was a fair point on his part. The two of you entered a silent stand-off, which mostly consisted of you looking anywhere but him as his hard eyes drilled into you.

“You letting the lad in or what, Simon?” John called out and Simon chuckled, eyes crinkling as he stepped aside, head cocking to gesture you in. As soon as your foot entered the flat, you moaned in relief, the warm air circling around you, unsticking your cold joints. Your face instantly heated as you realised the noise you’d let out in the presence of the two men and you ducked your head.

“That good huh?” Simon said lowly, brow raising slightly as he brushed past you, chest against your shoulder as he headed into the kitchen. John had an arm looped over the back of the couch, smiling, waving you over to join him on the couch. Once you sat down, John placed his strong arm around your shoulders.

“Better, yeah?” He asked, raising his brow enticingly. “Can’t be having my sweet neighbour cold when he’s taken such good care of me.” You face hadn’t quite calmed down from your slip up before, but John’s words brought it all rushing back.

“You didn’t have to.” Your voice was a mumble, eyes glancing over at the telly as it played some holiday movie.

“I did though, love. I really did.” He squeezed your shoulder firmly and you felt your knees weaken at his strength. “Noticed you didn’t do much last year over Christmas and couldn’t have a repeat of that. Not when you’ve been taking such good care of me.” Finally, you picked up the courage to meet his eyes and you saw the intensity there. “Let me take care of you for once, yeah? Let us take care of you.”

Glancing up, you noticed Simon lurking in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes carefully watching the pair of you. Swallowing, you glanced back at your neighbour, his eyes boring into your expectantly. And you only had one answer for him.

“Yes. I want you to take care of me… sir.” John grinned, eyes creasing as his head threaded through your hair to cup the back of your head.

“There’s a good lad for me. Gonna take real good care of ya.”

If there are mistakes, please let me known. As I said, it's been a hot minute.

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