#i guess today will be an EMOTIONAL day then thank you dream

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

i had a dream that i had one of showaddywaddy’s records in my collection somehow(i don’t actually but i want) and i was really happy about it and people were looking at it and talking about it with me in my garage even though i don’t keep them there (my records, not the people. i do not keep people anywhere, people are free to go where they choose)

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry [2] | Aemond Targaryen

Part Two

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader and also some Aemond x some random girly pop ;o

Word Count: (I'm... sorry?) 7.1k

Warnings: smut - mdni 18+!!! UNEDITED!! infidelity, kinda angsty? second-hand smut? power struggle both in bed and out, reader is a cheeky voyeur, oral (f receiving), thigh riding, degradation, Aemond is a fucking asshole but he's sexy, talk of masturbation. as always, let me know if I have missed anything!

Author's note: Entirely unedited because here I am posting this at 2:30AM having just finished writing this bad boy even though I have to be up for work at 7:30. yay :/. Anyways, thank you all so much for the love on this series so far! I'm thinking there could potentially be some more to come. Reader ain't done with her revenge so soon. I will reblog with the taglist tomorrow! or today I guess--after I've had some sleep! I would also love to hear your thoughts!! So pls hmu in my inbox to chat abt things xoxo kisses!!!! <3

Masterlist!

Part One

Distancing yourself from Aemond was not a difficult task. You’d barely see much of him aside from the meals you shared and your occasional stroll through the gardens anyway. It still felt odd, knowing that you were avoiding him when only days ago you had been grasping at whatever crumb of his attention you could reach. 

His existence was ghostly. Always talked about but never seen and it made it remarkably easy to ignore him. You spent most days between your chambers and Helaena’s, idly passing time with embroidery and small talk. But you were distracted - your mind foggy and your usual grace and poise replaced by clumsiness and a constant flustered jumpiness.

It was always on your mind. Always. 

Your mind was a problem of its own and as soon as you lay down amongst your sheets for a night of sleep, it took you back to the memory of your name lewdly falling from Aemond’s lips. As days had passed, you could have convinced yourself it was a hallucination - an odd dream of some sort.  

And while it had become muscle memory for your hand to find your soaked sex at the midnight hour, the scene of your alluring husband in the throes of pleasure bringing you to a quick peak, the first two nights had been marred with silent tears of humiliation, hurt, betrayal–jealousy and anger. 

Maybe it was for the best that you had not seen the face of the whore in his private chambers. If you had any idea of who she was, you would have had half a mind to have sought her out and suffocated her yourself.

You had to remind yourself that if she were, in fact, a whore then you could hardly let yourself seriously consider choking a woman out for simply doing her job. 

Frustration was an understatement. No matter how hard you tried, there was nothing that you could do which would calm the mix of emotions inside you. You considered declaring Aemond’s infidelity at dinner–or even at the small feast that was held two nights ago. But it wouldn’t be enough and it was too early to show your hand. 

If you had come out and made it known to all at Court, nothing would happen. At all. 

Most husbands take on whores and mistresses. And despite the pain and hurt of it that the wives suffer, it’s simply accepted as the way things are. Men are innately animals and so they must fuck like it too. So nobody would bat an eyelid at Aemond. Instead, you knew that they’d turn it on you in one way or another. 

On the sixth day, you were surprised when Ser Tunsley knocked on your door to announce your husband’s presence. When Aemond took a seat at the small table where you usually shared your breakfast, he barely spared you more than an inquisitive look before telling your handmaid to bring your breakfasts promptly. 

Aemond leaned back, letting his legs rest comfortable but still maintained his effortlessly flawless posture. He reached for the book that lay forgotten on the side-table, holding it open with one hand and his other arm stretching over the back of the seat beside him, where you sat all tense and surprised. A barely-there frown crossed your face at the foreign gesture and you willed yourself not to think much of it.

You would have fumbled to snatch the book from his hands, if this had been a week earlier. But it wasn’t, and with a curious and conniving sense of calm, you let him read the first page of a story riddled with obscenity and romance. The first couple chapters were perfectly appropriate.

The prince looked at you with a gentle tilt of his head, unmoving aside from . “You have been withdrawn.”

Silence. You were sitting beside him, unable to meet his eye as you usually would, scoffing so softly at his words that he almost mistook it for a cough. 

Aemond, who was far more observant of you than he knew you believed him to be, found that he was bothered by it. Whether it was because of the loss of the devotion that he had always seen in your doe-eyed gaze, or the flippant shift in your attitude, he did not want to know. 

“Have I done something that has bothered you, dear wife?” His eye returned to the book and moved from one side of the page to the other as he read. 

Aemond clearly did not see you watching them on that night. The fact that you had faced no repercussions for sneaking up on him and eavesdropping on such a moment was enough confirmation of that. 

But Aemond’s presence re-ignited the red hot resentment you had for his actions and the hurt that you felt because of him. How any man could seek out the company of his wife for the first time in a week, sit beside her and pretend so shamelessly as if he cared for the repercussions of his own vile actions was beyond you. 

Nonetheless, you forced a polite smile onto your lips and turned slightly to face him better. You let his question linger in the air between you as the maid returned, placing a plate of cheeses, fruits and an assortment of breads on the table in front of you. 

Thanking her, you reached to pour yourself a cup of the sweet vanilla and rose tea that had become your favourite part of your mornings in the Keep. When you answered his question, it was purposefully less than what Aemond was seeking. 

“I have been ill, lord husband,” you murmured. When you rested against the back of the seat, you tensed at the feeling of Aemond’s arm grazing your shoulder. You had forgotten it was there. 

Your reaction to his proximity and while you had initially been shy around him–not so much since you had started your little performance–, you never flinched away from his touch. 

Aemond placed the book down beside him and hummed in thought. He reached over you, to take a piece of fresh bread for his plate and to put some fruit on your plate, his chest pressing against your shoulder and his hair brushing past your nose. 

If you had moved, just an inch, your lips would be against the milky skin of his throat. Despite your disdain for your husband, you could hear the thrum of your heartbeat in your ears and stopped yourself from dragging your fingers through his hair and tracing your lips across his jaw. 

There was an unfamiliar sense of purpose behind what he was doing. It dawned on you that he knew what he was doing. The bread was already on his plate but the son of a bitch placed the fruits piece by piece on your plate, his movements lazy. 

He smelled like lavender, leather and dragon smoke. Like an intoxicating drug that overwhelmed your mind until piety and sin were indiscernible. It was far too easy for you to see Aemond as more godly than just a mere man, to feel the need to worship him in the most sinful ways you could imagine. 

No man in any realms was as strong, as beautiful, as terrifying, as educated as the prince who breathed fire onto your skin. And he was your prince. 

A drop in your stomach was the least of your problems when the image of Aemond enjoying another woman’s passion invaded your thoughts. You wondered if his scent drove her just as mad as it made you and you had the urge to drive a knife through Aemond’s hand for you knew he’d have let her indulge in him. 

But when he looked at you, his violet eye a mask of indifference yet still failing to hide something that you couldn’t for the life of you put into words, you hated that your desire for him burned just as strong as your rage. 

Aemond’s eye met yours, humming in thought as he brought a cherry to his lips and glancing down at your own. He took a bite out of it first and then brought it to your mouth, dragging the open side across your bottom lip. The soft fruit dripped delicately onto your chin and left a stain on your perfect lips. The sight of you with reddened lips, gazing up at him with blown out pupils, shining with an uncorrupted devotion and a pure desire sent his blood rushing. 

The cherry was sweet and chilled, a stark contrast to the darkened, heated want that Aemond watched you with. And again, you had an urge to ignore everything and take what it was that you had been hoping Aemond would give you. You obediently took the cherry into your mouth, holding his gaze, chewing the flesh of the fruit and rolling the pip on your tongue. 

When you looked hard enough into Aemond’s eye, you could see the reflection of yourself morph into a reflection of the unnamed woman and you turned from him, turning away to drop the pip of the cherry onto a napkin. 

Aemond’s hand fell softly to rest on your knee and he only moved back a nudge. You refused to meet his eye but you could feel his warm breath on your cheek as he spoke, his voice slightly strained yet still calm and smooth. “I’ll send for a maester.” 

“Thank you,” you pushed the words out of your mouth and nodded towards the food. “You should eat your breakfast, my prince.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow as you rolled your eyes at him and slid back into his previous posture, sitting against the backrest of his own seat. An infuriating grin played on his lips. “Don’t worry about my breakfast. Why did you roll your eyes at me?”

You rolled your eyes again. “As if I cannot call for a maester myself.”

It crossed your mind that you could have told him right now of what you had seen. And the urge to scream at him became so strong you almost did. 

But what would come of it? Not enough. Aemond would only offer you an apology if you were lucky and carry on as if nothing was amiss. Because that is just how it is for husbands–they could cheat and lie all they please to no consequence. And you wanted him to regret the moment he chose to disrespect you. 

You wanted him to suffer for it. To feel as insulted, as embarrassed and as inferior as you have.

So he would suffer. But you had to be patient if you were to make it hurt. 

A thought crossed your mind as Aemond said something you didn’t quite hear, with that unbothered expression he had mastered years ago. 

He didn’t linger long after that. You ate your breakfast in silence, while Aemond, much to your distaste, finished the first chapter of your book. And when he finally left, he took it with him, giving you a knowing smirk as he tucked it under his arm. 

One punch. Surely, you would be entitled to that. 

Initially, the idea of seducing Jason Lannister was a gruesome one. But upon hearing of his prolonged and unbusy presence at King’s Landing, you recognised an opportunity as it presented itself to you. Simply because of pride and ego, there were few men who enjoyed the idea of his wife turning to another man for what they could not provide. 

Alas, if there was any part of Aemond that made him weak, it was his pride and his arrogance. 

And so here you were, enjoying your afternoon tea with the Lannister twin, listening to stories of his life at Casterly Rock. You made sure the house staff had known of Lannister’s presence and that the Kingsguard were well aware of the pot of tea you shared in the Courtyard. Easily within sight of where you knew Aemond was training with Ser Cole and some other men you had no interest in knowing.

For the past thirty minutes, you could feel him watching you. But when you lifted your head to look, pretending to the man across from you that you were interested in watching your husband train, Aemond would turn away. Yet he finally seemed to have finally had enough and you could see him walking over from behind Jason, his shoulders stiffer than usual with a sour expression. 

“This tea,” you covered your mouth gently, letting out the remnants of a laugh that had been pulled from you. If you were being honest, Jason Lannister was turning out to be surprisingly fun company and the smile you had expected to fake ended up being real. Not bothering to look at Aemond, who was much closer now, you held your teacup towards the Lord Lannister with a pretty, sultry smile. “It is incredible–I’ve loved it so much, t’is the only tea I will drink. Have a taste of mine, I insist.”

With a look of blatant excitement, Jason leaned into where you held the cup, fingers grazing yours as he held the cup but never took it out of your hold and took a sip. It was slightly awkward, the way his eyes held onto yours, but you brightened your smile nonetheless. 

Aemond visibly inhaled a sharp breath and cleared his throat, covering the both of you in a dark shade. The prince was looming over Lannister, who never looked away from you even as you peeled your eyes away from him with exaggerated difficulty to meet Aemond’s eye. You dropped your smile so slightly that only Aemond could notice. 

There was a tense, awkward silence that lingered. Lannister’s head tilted ever so slightly and a wave of annoyance ran through you at the cocky tilt of his head regardless of the fact that it was exactly what you needed him to do. The two men stared at each other, Aemond’s typical dark repose and Lannister’s challenging chagrin at the disruption. 

“How nice of you to join us, my prince,” you beamed. “Lord Lannister has been sharing this pot of tea with me. It’s lovely to enjoy some company for once.”

You took pleasure in the way he squared his shoulders at your remark. Lannister snickered but was quick to cover it up with a cough at Aemond’s narrowed eye. 

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” Aemond’s voice was sharp. “I happen to have some time on my hands before I take Vhagar to flight, lady wife. Perhaps you would care to join me for a stroll through the gardens?”

Aemond was behind you in a blink, tugging your chair back gently into himself and holding a hand out to help you stand. The air around you became soft lavender and leather and something very Aemond. And despite the slight flutter of your eyelids, you straightened and held strong. 

Weakness would get you nowhere. You were out here for a reason and no matter how strong the pull was, your lust to hurt him back was much stronger. 

You shook your head gently, looking at Jason who seemed to stiffen under the prince’s eye. “What kind of host would I be if I were to abandon Lord Lannister? Considering it was I who invited him to tea. We can enjoy the gardens another time, my prince.”

The fire in Aemond’s eye rivalled Vhagar’s. It gave you a sense of satisfaction that was much unlike yourself and you wondered how he’d burn with rage if you decided to take Jason to your bed. You’d lose everything you had to your name but you knew it would not be difficult to convince yourself that it’d be worth it.

Jason Lannister was no fool. He understood the wrath of the Targaryen prince but he knew that you would never be subjected to the extent of it. As much as Prince Aemond pretended he did not care, the Lords and counsellors of the Red Keep knew that he had his weaknesses. At the end of the day, Aemond would not dishonour himself by tarnishing the image of his pious, kind wife who was loved by all. 

Lannister also had his doubts about you. Again, he was no fool to fall for whatever game you were playing. An honourable, devoted Lady such as yourself would never actually be so easy to adulterate. Whatever it was, Jason was not against indulging himself in some fun here and there. 

But he did prefer to keep his limbs and so he shook his head gently and stood from his seat. 

“You have my thanks,” he took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. A bold move from a man who could so strongly feel the Prince’s pointed glare. Jason turned and bowed his head gently towards Aemond. “But I fear I have some business to attend to, so do not stay back on my regard. It was lovely to sit with you, my Lady.”

Aemond scoffed loudly as the Lord took his leave. He waited for you to take his hand to help you out of your seat before dropping it to your waist. 

“My prince-”

“If you are so starved of company, dear wife,” he drawled, looking straight ahead with a tightened jaw as he led you in the direction of the gardens. It was a habit now, whenever Aemond had you on his arm, to walk that route. Not surprising seeing how it was the only place where you two would see each other apart from your chambers. “I would expect you to call upon me rather than some toady Lord who would certainly misjudge your intentions. I am your husband, am I not?”

The thought of keeping a list of the times he spoke as if he were faithful crossed your mind for barely a second. Aemond was infuriating. 

You offered him half of a smile and pulled him back slightly as you came to a stop. “You are. But your mind is never with me and I am well aware your time is far more precious to you than I am.”

If Aemond’s composure was not so ingrained into his existence, he may have spluttered and gawked at you. Instead, he barely frowned. 

There was little he could do about the unemotional, unkind man that he had become perceived as. Aemond understood that it was his own actions that meant people viewed him as little less than a monster. And truly, it was how he tried to be perceived. 

So why did it disturb Aemond that his own wife thought him so uncaring? He knew he had only himself to blame for it. 

“I am afraid a stroll in the gardens will have to wait,” you continued in his silence. Being alone with Aemond was not how you intended to spend the afternoon. The risk that you’d lose your composure and tell him all that you had seen of him was still high. “I am still feeling fairly unwell. It may be better for me to rest in my chambers with a book.”

Aemond knew that you were retracting into yourself, pulling away from him where you would have been at his beck and call only a week ago. He hummed. “Tomorrow then.” 

And with that, Aemond escorted you to your chambers in silence. It was hardly two hours that you had spent in the Courtyard with Lord Lannister but it had been tiring nonetheless. The peace and quiet that came with your reprieve from the man that had set your nerves into a frenzy just at the knowledge of his presence while you pressed at his patience was welcome. 

A few hours passed slowly in your own company. Dinner was brought to your room at your request. The mere thought of sitting beside your husband and putting on a display for his family exhausted you. 

The sounds of footsteps and conversation outside your door pulled your attention from the embroidery you had forced yourself to practise. Your chambers were fairly secluded compared to the rest and so it wasn’t often that anyone wandered this area. Expecting the Queen or your husband to be the source of the noise, you were hastily at the door, a sudden flush of anxiety shooting straight to your gut. 

You waited barely five seconds for Ser Tunsley to knock on your door but your impatience pushed you to step out first. There was nobody there. You could see Ser Tunsley stalking away from the direction of the private chambers. You didn’t question it, assuming he was probably stepping away for a brief break, given that his position hadn’t been replaced. 

Footsteps. Again. 

Curiously turning your head in the direction of the sound, you saw a flash of brunette hair and a dark grey dress. Fuck. 

It was impossible not to recognise her. Even as she walked away from you and clearly in the direction of Prince Aemond’s chambers, you knew who she was. 

So with one final glance back into your room you followed her, thankful that you were barefoot so that your own footsteps couldn’t be heard.  Even though your body was running hot with a mixture of heartache and rage, there was an icy stiffness that had spread from the back of your neck to your shoulders as you rounded a single corner after her and helplessly watched her enter Aemond’s chambers. 

You held back tears. She had left the door open. Again. It did little to ease the knot in your throat when you realised that while she may be good enough for Aemond with her mouth, she was not the smartest.

Unable to move, you stood planted in that one spot a few feet away for what must have been ten minutes before you heard the same shuffling and muffled voices. You could hear her more clearly this time and it took you another two minutes to build the courage to see, once again, how Aemond dishonoured you. 

If the circumstances were different, it may have been one of the sexiest sights you had ever laid your eyes upon. But it struck you in a way you couldn’t have expected and it took all of your willpower to stay standing. 

But what else had you expected?

This time, the woman was sprawled out, her head hanging off of the bed and if her eyes weren’t screwed shut in bliss then she would have been looking directly at you. Her left hand gripped the sheets and the other was tangled amongst Aemond’s silver hair, her thighs on either side of his head. 

Gods, you had never known anything like it. 

Aemond was devouring her like he had been starved of her for weeks (you knew he hadn’t), the obscene sounds of his mouth against her sex striking you with distress. He held her down as she writhed against him, a strong, clothed arm keeping her in place at her waist. 

You had hardly been watching them for thirty seconds and you didn’t even have time to consider turning around and walking away to save yourself the misery. 

Because Aemond’s eye opened and he gazed straight through his lashes, lifting his head so he was looking directly at you. A piercing violet eye accompanied by a glimmering sapphire that watched you dangerously, as if he had seen you standing there the entire time and this was all entertaining to him. 

For what may well have been the tenth time that night, you couldn’t move. You stood at the door, chest heaving and jaw slack as you felt a tightness in your throat. How could you feel so powerless in a game you managed to believe you had the upperhand in? 

Aemond still held your eyes with his own, pulling away from the whore he was toying with, and fucking smirked.  

Like things were going exactly how he had planned. 

Red. And a loud gasp and then panic and a flash of arousal and all of a sudden you were running back to your chambers, falling to your knees over your empty bathtub and dry heaving. It was all too much. 

The shock, the fear, the jealousy, the fear. 

And it dawned on you as you tried desperately to catch your breath. Ignoring your arousal–you cursed your body for reacting faster than your mind once again–panic continued to flood your veins like an ice-cold burn. 

Aemond had definitely seen you watching. But had he known all along? 

It made no sense. Did he see you that night when he moaned your name instead of that damned woman’s? 

You couldn’t even be sure how long Aemond had stared at you from his spot, his attention diverted entirely from the nameless woman, who whined and stirred incessantly at his distraction, to you. Caught like a thief in the act, wide-eyed and dazed.

Aemond knew. And he must have known the entire time. With the way he looked directly to you, as if he were waiting for you. As if Aemond knew exactly where you stood the first night. As if he had finally caught you in his trap.  

He wanted you to see. 

Aemond had already bested you at your own game with even more cleverness than you. Before you had even started to play. 

Sleep did not come easy that night. 

 

You were dressed and ready far earlier than usual the next morning. Even though you dreaded the worst - that Aemond had convened to have you punished for watching as you had, you let your scheme motivate you to take back the control you had lost. If you had ever had it in the first place. 

The dress you wore was hardly decent and it left you bare from your chest up, a wide slit running through the skirts. It was a deep green that had a shine to it and clung to your skin, making it clear that you had foregone your smallclothes for the day. 

For the sake of decency within the hallway, and because you detested the idea of either of the Cloaks at your doors seeing your attire, you donned a heavy cloak over top. It was Aemond’s; he had left it behind after breakfast once.

Aemond was still asleep when you had talked your way past the guard at his door and pushed through the doors to his chambers. You stood at the foot of his bed, tracing the place where that woman lay with your eyes. Quietly, you dropped the cloak to the floor.

It was your first time in Aemond’s private chambers. And would things have been different, you would have taken the time to observe all the things that made this space his. Instead, your eyes scanned every centimetre of every part of his chambers for any trace of that wretched woman. 

There was none. Not a single strand of hair. 

You sat at the edge of his plush bed, taking a moment to get your head straight before you stood and walked around to the side of the bed where he lay. The scent of him was overwhelming as you stood above him. 

“Well,” Aemond barely moved aside from his lips as he spoke. His eye remained shut. “Look who finally figured it out. Why are you here?”

You let out a drawn out sigh, shivering gently. “I would like to talk.”

Aemond sat up lazily and you noticed he was naked save for the sheet that covered his lap. From the way he was sitting, you stood in between his legs and his head was slightly tilted as he looked at you over the swell of your breasts. His hands found a resting place on your hips and you were hyper-aware of his touch, which felt heavier than boulders and hotter than lava. 

He looked at you as if he were ready to devour you. As if Aemond were a man starved of air and you were his only chance at breathing. 

The prince let out a hum. “Dressed like this?”

“Since you seem to prefer a whore over your own wife, I figured I would dress akin to one,” you kept your voice stern and stepped further into him so that his chin almost had to rest in the valley of your breasts if he wished to keep his gaze on yours. “If this is what it will take to have your attention.”

Not once did Aemond’s heated stare falter. “I think you are well aware of where my attention lies. What with your childish attempts at seduction.”

“I did not think you cared to take note.”

“Oh, I noticed,” Aemond said, dragging a finger up and down the side of your waist. He enjoyed the soft feel of the fabric and the way your nipples perked through the dress at his touch had him resisting a primal urge to bite. His patience had been astounding thus far but it was wearing thin. “I would have expected that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady such as yourself. You are a princess, after all.”

Trying your best not to squirm under his touch, you held firm in your hardened gaze. “You seem to enjoy whores.”

“I do not.”

You scoffed. “So you have been fucking her just to spite me? Or have you fallen in love?”

“Such filthy language from such a well behaved girl,” he mused. Aemond’s cursed smirk had you holding back from both cutting him and kissing him. “I never would have guessed that my wife is so full of surprises. It seems I do not know you as well as I believed.”

“Answer my question, Aemond.”

“I never fucked her properly, since you insist–”

“As if it makes a difference whether you fucked her cunt or her mouth,” you spat. He was maddening. “You are my husband. I should be the only woman you have in your bed.”

The grip on your hips tightened almost painfully before he brought one hand up to caress your jaw. Aemond didn’t hide the longing he felt, pulling you closer and admiring every inch of your skin tenderly. “If only you had been good and asked me nicely for what you need. Instead of acting like a desperate slut every time we were in the same space. Things could have been so much easier for you, my love.”

Aemond had always spoken to you with respect. And yet here he was, speaking to you as if he already knew exactly what sent your cunt wild with need. He harshly held your chin, forcing you to look up at the roof as he straightened, pressing his nose into the crevice of your neck. The tickle of his hot breath on your skin made you gasp and you felt the velvet of his lips smirking against your throat. 

“The whole time,” you panted, bringing your hands to his shoulders and digging your nails into his skin. “You knew. It was-”

“Hm. It was for you.” Aemond let his teeth graze against the dip of your jaw. 

There was a fire alight on your skin. You could barely make sense of his words but you forced yourself to hold it together. “You are insane.”

“I was only playing the game that you started,” Aemond chuckled. “Only, I have played it far better than you. Perhaps we are lucky that you did not present more of a challenge, considering I was not above taking her on your bed instead.”

Fuck that. You despised him and loved him and lusted for him all at the same time. 

The control you had was slight to begin with but whatever little there was, it was slipping through your fingers. You threaded your fingers through Aemond’s hair–which was silkier than you had expected–and pulled him away from your neck. 

When you saw the hunger for you in his eye, the slight pink flush of his cheeks, a warm flood of invigorating energy made it’s way through your veins. You fought the urge to run your hands down his shoulders, his chest, his bicep–any part of him you could reach. 

You swallowed thickly. “You should have. I need only one more reason to cut her.”

“I shall have her hanged if that is what you wish.” 

For a moment, you thought you might scratch the smug expression off of Aemond’s face. You groaned, pursing your lips at his indifference and squeezing your thighs together at the passion in his eye. “Fuck you, Aemond.”

“I’m going to give you another chance. Ask me nicely to fuck you until all those doubts you have are replaced by the empty space I will fill your pretty little head with,” He pulled at your hips, so that there was no empty space between you, your torso flush to his chest. Aemond felt deathly tense yet strangely relaxed at the feel of you gasping against him. “And we can put an end to this contest. I do regret that I have left you, my wife, unsatisfied but I want you begging first.”

You watched him closely, challenged him with your gaze. There was no chance you would beg and let him win. The air between you was charged with energy, hissing and stinging. It became heavy and despite the way both of you were breathing so heavily, chests rising and falling dramatically, you couldn’t get enough oxygen to fill your lungs. 

The thickness in the air only became heavier as you gripped his wrists, and moved slowly so that you straddled his right thigh. Aemond fisted the thin fabric of your dress and when you lightly pressed your leg against the hardness at his crotch, you felt his steady breath against your lips which lingered above his own. The skirts of your dress rode up to your hips. 

Lavender, leather and him. 

“You want me to ask you nicely, my prince?” You purred, relishing in the way Aemond’s jaw clenched when he felt your bare cunt press against his thigh. It sends a wave of pleasure straight through your body. “You want me to beg you to tear this dress off of me? To fuck me until I can no longer think of any word other than your name? To make me yours properly? Beg you to fuck me how you should have every night since our wedding?”

Aemond’s hands were grasping at the flesh all over your body, pulling at the fabric of your pathetic excuse of a gown until it ripped. There was a weight on his chest that only grew at the sight of your perfect skin through the torn fabric, your nipples slipping into his view. 

His voice was low and guttural. “The final chance. Be good and beg.”

“If you wish for me to be good,” you whispered into his ear, moving hastily to grip the back of his neck with one hand and the other holding his chin tightly as he had held yours minutes ago. He let out a strained sound through his teeth as you shifted against his cock, pretending to get comfortable.  “You should not have indulged in that whore.”

Aemond scowled at you. And he could have thrown you off of him but his hands continued to scorch the skin on your hips.

You realised you had never been so close to Aemond as you pressed a trail of tender kisses to his jaw. You were infinitely closer to him than all the times you had held onto him while walking the gardes or while he had bedded you with feigned disinterest. And you were aching with want and desire just as he was, your wetness seeping onto Aemond’s thigh. 

It was nothing in comparison to the rage that you had pent up. With a gasp you ground down on the strong muscle of his thigh, eyes fluttering at the sensation. Holding back a moan, you rested your forehead against Aemond’s and rocked your hips against him. 

You tightened your legs, well aware that Aemond could overpower you and have you under him in seconds. He was allowing you to have your moment and you pulled your hand from his jaw only for it to stay tightly locked as his fingers dug into your hips.

There would be bruises left on your skin for weeks but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, almost groaning out loud when Aemond took control of your movements, pushing and pulling your hips so that your clit rubbed against him perfectly. “Prince Aemond Targaryen. You think you can just do as you like and that there would be no consequences. That I would come crawling back to you so easily?”

A moan slipped from your lips when Aemond shifted his leg. You knew you were getting carried away, that the power you had over him was getting to your head but fuck. It didn’t matter. 

You dropped your hand to where Aemond’s cock pressed against one of your thighs, touching him gently over the sheet that covered him. It still surprised you just how perfectly big Aemond was, thick and hard in your palm. And then you held him firmly, rocking your weeping cunt against his thigh even harder when he groaned. It sent shock after shock straight through your core.

“Did you think I would be on my knees for you so easily just like she was?” You spat, whining at the pleasure that was incomparable to the way you had been touching yourself. Aemond hissed as you slid your hand up and then back down so slowly. “After those shows you put on for me, there is not a chance.” 

Countermoves. Aemond was good at them, even when struggling to even out his breath and regain his composure. “Tell me, which part did you enjoy the most? Was it when I fucked my seed into her throat? Or when was calling your name?” 

You gripped the back of his neck so hard, pushing your soaked pussy harder onto his leg. “Do not-”

Aemond hummed, his grip tightening painfully on your hips as he moved his leg in motion against you. He smirked when you shuddered, caressing your cheek with his nose as he spoke lowly into your ear once again. “I think I know. It was last night, when I had her on my tongue and thought only of how perfect your desperate little cunt would taste instead.”

“Aemond,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rolled your hips deliciously on his thigh. He let out a small, deep laugh at the way you trembled in his hands but you could hear that he was losing himself just as much as you were. “Gods.”

“I wish to know, princess. How many times have you touched yourself since that night, wishing you were in her place?”

You sucked in a breath, rutting against Aemond violently and he only pulled you in harder when you refused to answer his questions. Another moan. “Be quiet, Aemond.”

“Hm,” Aemond nipped at your earlobe. “Do you really want me to stop talking? You know that I can feel how wet it makes your perfect cunt. Desperate little slut.”

Whining and cursing him under your breath, you let yourself really look at him. Aemond’s sapphire eye shone under the early morning light that spilled in from the windows, his eye dark with lust and his jaw clenching as he watched you fall apart on his lap. 

Hips buckling as he continued to pull you back and forth on his thigh, spreading your wetness on the soft expanse of his skin, your legs failed to hold your weight and you had clearly resigned to letting Aemond take control of your pleasure. 

You were right at the edge and just as you started to ride out your orgasm, Aemond spoke.

“If you do not beg me,” he threatened. “I shall stop.”

“Gods, no–do not sto-”

Aemond held you still in response and no matter how you writhed against his grip, you couldn’t move. He was keeping you at the tipping point, smirking at the way you were gasping for air and squirming on his lap. But he was in no calmer state himself and you could tell his resolve was about to shatter. 

“Stand up. I want you on the bed,” He demanded. And when you didn’t move, he let go of your hip to lay a stiff smack to your backside. “Now.”

“No.” 

It was almost too easy and you snatched his wrist before he could return it to your hip, moving your hips and rubbing yourself against his leg again now that he only had one hand to try and control you.   

Aemond’s leg was slick and your clit was sliding deliciously across his skin. Fingernails dug into the flesh of your hips and you could feel Aemond’s frustration as he yanked his hand out of yours. But you blindly grasped at it again, shockwaves of white hot pleasure striking you suddenly as you came undone, your forehead falling forward to rest on Aemond’s as you let out a loud, drawn out moan. 

You shook through your orgasm, holding Aemond tightly. His cock throbbed against your thigh and you almost felt bad. 

“You should understand, my prince, if you continue to bring that whore to your bed then I am not above bringing another man to mine.” You struggled to catch your breath and your legs were still trembling as you stood, stepping away to pick up the coat you had dropped to the floor. 

Aemond glowered at you, his glare strong enough to have made you crumble before him were you not so high on adrenaline. 

“You would not dare,” he all but growled. 

“Have I not surprised you enough already, Lord Husband?” 

Aemond stood, the sheet falling to the floor, entirely naked and stiff against his stomach as he watched you don his coat. The anger in his voice only served to spur you on. “You will not leave. You would not dare to leave.”

“I am a princess, after all,” you looked at him over your shoulder, lip caught between your teeth at the sight of him bare, hard and infuriated. There was disbelief written all over his expression. “You will need to work much harder than that if you want me to give in.”

There was something new in the way Aemond looked at you. As if he was impressed. Admiring you, even through his frustration. And without giving yourself the chance for second thoughts, you walked right out Aemond’s chambers with a triumphant smile. 

[nhlclover]

' 𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 ' | 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃

summary: being pwhl montreal's newest star, you get paired up with cole caufield to do a joint interview.

warnings: pwhl!reader, smau (this is my first time doing an smau so please only constructive criticism), quite a few uses of y/n, using a photo of mariah koepple but not as a faceclaim, cringy flirty banter

word count: 1.57k

The bright lights of the Bell Centre cast a vibrant glow over the ice, the freshly zambonied sheet pristine and inviting, free of skate marks. Stepping onto the ice felt like stepping into the next chapter of your life, a dream realized.

It’s been about 2 months since you were drafted into the PWHL by PWHL Montreal, fulfilling a lifelong dream of yours. The past couple of weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions, from the excitement of draft day to jumping straight into the intense training sessions. Scattered in between, you’ve been able to get to know your teammates who have helped you settle into the new city by showing you around.

Though the PWHL season was still a while away, the NHL season was fast approaching, and you found yourself at the Bell Centre for media day with the Montreal Canadiens. You were slated for a joint interview with one of the Canadiens players, followed by a shooting competition.

Gliding around one end of the ice, you took a few shots on the net with the pucks that were scattered around. The camera crew was setting up their equipment at the other end, preparing for the interview.

From the direction of the bench, you heard the distinctive sound of skates cutting into the ice. Turning around, you saw Cole Caufield skating towards you, his Canadiens home jersey contrasting sharply with the ice beneath him. A bright smile lit up his face as he approached.

“Hey, rookie,” Cole greeted with a playful grin.

“Hi, I’m y/n.” you introduce yourself.

“I know who you are,” Cole said. “They talk more about you than they did about me when I got here.”

You couldn’t help but feel a blush appear on your cheeks at his words. You were a pretty highly touted prospect going into the draft, and when Montreal drafted you, the hockey-crazed city hyped you up even more. You were the talk of Montreal hockey, surpassing even the Canadiens' new rookies.

“Oh, come on, you’re just saying that,” you replied, trying to downplay your embarrassment.

“Not at all,” Cole said. “I’m pretty sure you’ve stolen my thunder.”

You chuckled, feeling a mix of pride and shyness. “Well, I guess it’s not every day a new star comes to town,” you replied, trying to match his playful tone.

Cole laughed, the sound echoing in the nearly empty arena. “True, true. But don’t worry, I’ll let you borrow it for a bit. Just don’t get too comfortable,” he teased, winking at you.

His wink caught you off guard, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You felt your heart skip a beat and hoped the blush that had already crept onto your cheeks didn’t deepen too much. There was something undeniably charming about Cole’s playful confidence, and you found yourself momentarily at a loss for words.

A couple seconds later, the crew calls the two of you over to begin the interview. You and Cole took your spots on either side of the interviewer on the Montreal Canadiens bench. You watched as a producer gave the interviewer cues to start the interview.

“Hey everyone, I am here with Cole Caufield, forward for the Montreal Canadiens, and PWHL Montreal’s first round pick, y/n l/n.” the interviewer says. “Welcome y/n and Cole, it’s great to have you both here today.”

"Thanks for having us," you said, giving a nod to the camera.

“Yeah, this is awesome,” Cole added.

The interviewer turned to you first. “Y/n, you're about to start your first season with Montreal's PWHL team. What are you most looking forward to?”

You couldn’t hide your excitement as your face lit up. “Honestly, I'm just excited to get out on the ice and play with such an incredible group of girls. We've got a lot of talent, and I think we're gonna have something special this season. Plus, the energy from the fans here in Montreal is just amazing.”

He nodded appreciatively and then looked at Cole. “And Cole, as someone who's been playing in Montreal for a while, do you have any advice for y/n?”

Cole thought for a second before speaking. “Just soak it all in. The city's passionate about hockey, and it can be intense, but it's also one of the best places to play. Stay focused, enjoy the ride, and don't be afraid to lean on your teammates. The vets were the best in my first couple of seasons, they always had great advice if I needed any.”

“That’s some wise advice.” the interviewer says, drawing laughs from the both of you. “Y/n, what do you think will be your biggest challenge this season?”

“I think adjusting to the pace and physicality of the professional level will be a big step up from college hockey. But I’ve been training hard this offseason, and I’m ready to face those challenges head-on. Having a supportive team and coaching staff definitely helps.”

The interviewer nods and turns to Cole. “Cole, what's one thing about playing in Montreal that you think will surprise y/n?”

Cole grins. “The fans. They’re not just passionate, they’re everywhere. You’ll get recognized on the streets, at restaurants, pretty much anywhere you go. It’s a bit overwhelming at first, but it’s also pretty amazing to have that kind of support.”

“Well, it sounds like an exciting season ahead for both of you.” he says, looking back at the camera. “Well, now we’re going to get to the exciting bit of the interview and get ready to watch Cole and y/n go head to head in a little shooting competition.”

The three of you get up from the bench, heading over to the net set up in front of cameras.

“Now’s the time to prove that you’re worth all the hype,” Cole said teasingly as he skated by you.

You rolled your eyes at Cole's comment, but couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips. "Oh, I'm not worried," you shot back. "Just try to keep up, okay?"

Cole laughed, the sound light and genuine, the both of you skating between the circles. The crew had set up a series of targets in the net, and as the two of you lined up, the interviewer explained the rules. "Alright, y/n and Cole, there are five targets in the net, whoever hits all five in the shortest amount of time wins. Have you guys placed any wagers on this?"

You and Cole both laugh, you shaking your head.

“How about we make a little bet? Loser buys the winner dinner.” Cole suggested.

“Dinner, huh?” you mused. “I hope you’re ready to spend big because I’m gonna win.”

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Cole said, a small smirk tugging on his lips. His confident nature made your heart skip a beat.

“Alright, Mr. Confident, let’s see what you’ve got,” you challenged.

“Okay, okay, we’ve got a little competition going now.” the interviewer commented.

“Just so you know,” Cole says, “I’m not going to go easy on you.”

“Good,” you replied, feeling a thrill of anticipation. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Alright, Cole, you'll go first. I’ll serve you the pucks and you’ve just gotta shoot them.” the interviewer explains. “Y/n count us down when we’re ready.”

The interviewer heads to the right of the net where a pile of pucks sit, while Cole sets up in between the dots. “Alright, ready?” you ask. “Three… two… one… go!”

On your call, Cole starts shooting, aiming for the targets in the corners and center of the net. He fires pucks off like bullets, shooting them impressively into the net. He hits three of the targets consecutively, but it takes him a couple extra shots to get all five targets.

19.47 ends up being his time — and the time for you to beat if you want Cole to treat you to dinner. “Nice shots, old man.” you tease.

“Old man? I’m only 2 years older than you, watch it.” Cole retorts.

You giggle and skate to where Cole was, waiting for the crew to replace the targets in the net. Once everything's set, Cole counts you down. You fire pucks into the net, albeit not as hard as Cole’s. However, you were able to pick your spots, being able to get all five targets in 17.33.

When you hear your time, you do an over the top celebration, skating around Cole and showing off. Cole groaned dramatically, but a genuine smile couldn’t help but tug on his lips.

“Looks like you owe me dinner,” you said triumphantly.

The interviewer thanks you both for joining them, you and Cole skating off towards the dressing room together. You finally speak once the two of you are alone in the dressing room.

“You don’t actually have to take me out to dinner,” you tell him.

Cole turns to face you as he pulls off his jersey. “I want to.” he says earnestly. “I mean… I’d like to take you out for dinner. As long as you’re down.”

You smile at his sudden shy demeanor, a swift change from his confident attitude on the ice. “Are you asking me on a date, Cole?”

Cole’s cheeks flushed pink as he scratched the back of his neck. “Would that be okay if I did?”

You grinned. “It’d be great.”

"Great," Cole said, his grin matching yours. "It's a date."

———

canadiens.pwhl Cole Caufield and Y/N L/N getting friendly in their newest interview for Sportsnet 👀 Do we have another Habs bachelor off the market?

( loading comments )

user1 montreals newest it couple i'm calling it

user2 they are so cute together

user3 power couple‼️

user4 the greatest hockey player in montreal and cole caufield

user5 LMAOOOO

user6 look at his smile🥹🥹

user7 he looks so happy with her

user8 god could they be more obvious??

user9 ??

user8 i mean they're clearly dating they didn't even try and hide it lol

user10 aw now cole doesn't have to third wheel nick and caitlin

user11 my literal parents

user12 omg same hey twin

[orphicdreamers-wp]

Girl Of My Dreams — Mat Barzal

Summary: In which Mat Barzal inadvertently falls for the oldest Hughes sibling and her brothers aren’t happy.

Content Warning; Taylor swift 1989 isn’t by Tay(its by reader) Mentions of University of Alabama (reader went there) Trevor Zegras being hopelessly in love with reader. Readers social media face claim is Addison Rae bc idc she’d clear as a WAG for a athlete.

Pairing: Mat Barzal x Hughes! Reader.

Mat would be lying if he said he didn’t sneak glances at the announcers box after meeting you. You had been carrying a plate of food and two margaritas to your booth where your friends sat. Tito had made a joke about you seeming familiar then the pair heard your voice and knew, “Alright now, eat up because y’all are bumming me out.” Mat’s jaw slacked, “He’d known that the Islanders had gotten a new game announcer who was a girl but he wouldn’t have known it was you. You were effortlessly stunning, you had captivated the attention of every straight man in the bar. Mat had approached you as you sat at the bar, “I’m Mat, can I buy you a drink?”

You grinned and spoke, southern accent slipping out, “I’m Y/N, I mean Barzy after the way you played last game? You better buy me a drink. ‘Yknow how many hate comments my broadcast got?” Mat grinned as the bartender approached you, “Another Corona Light and whatever she’s having on me.” You grinned sheepishly, “I’m fucking with you. I’ve heard worse.” Mat grinned, “So now would probably be a shitty time to ask you out?” You smiled at him, “Maybe not.” Mat smiled, “If I may, your not from New York are you? Where are you from?” You grinned, “I grew up in Toronto with my 3 younger brothers and moved to Alabama for college and been in New York for a few months now.” Mat grinned, “Well welcome to New York beautiful.” That was a year and a half ago. You still hadn’t told your brothers who your boyfriend was, just that his name was Mathew. Until your album release came creeping in and you wanted to go public with Mat.

Instagram

ynhughes; my album ‘1997’ is now streaming! thank you for all your support(especially the bf, ‘slut’ and ‘suburban legends’ are 4 us)

barzal97: celebrating you is my favorite pastime. i have never met someone who people gravitate towards more than you. you are by far the most wonderfully amazing woman i know. it is a privilege to say i love you🤎 this past year or so has changed my life. you make living easy and so so much better. i can’t wait to see what the future has in store for you.

trevorzegras: alexa play that should be me💔💔

ynhughes: forever in awe of you mathew barzal. amazed a gal like me is lucky enough to be adored by you🤎

oliviarodrigo; THEY HIT THE PENTAGON!! @conangray

>conangray; told you it was them i saw at radio music hall!

ny_islanders; our roman empire is all the sweet posts for to y/n today🥹🥹

sydneyemartin: brb crying. the purest people in the world. so grateful my girls get to grow up seeing a love this pure that isn’t their parents.

>ynhughes: we adore your girls more than words can express.

_quinnhughes: my biggest inspiration is out here killing it. in awe of you everyday sissy🥹 thank you for being my best friend from day 1

ynhughes: in a puddle of tears quinny. thank you for always being on my side, even when im wrong.

sabrinacarpenter; hockey players making me ugly sob wasn’t on my 2023 bingo card

elhughes; my first babies🥹 extremely emotional over you all today

>_quinnhughes: we love you momma💕

jackhughes: 1997 reasons to love my meanie head sister, i guess her bf’s alright

ynhughes: i love you little brat, come visit me and mat!!

>jackhughes: will do, sissy🫡

trevorzegras: i can’t believe she won’t date me 😞😞

>ynhughes: buck up z, your way too young for me. perfect age for @sabrinacarpenter tho!

lukehughes: the worlds best big sister came out with the best album to date

ynhughes; really feeling the hughes love train today, i need to plan for all of us to be together soon! so y’all can meet Mat!

etnow; this just in; the Hughes brothers have brought tears to my eyes supporting their sister

barzal97: the third picture is actually the most accurate representation of your sister now

>lukehughes; always messing with those darn cats! even if they are on the side of the street.

[strawberryshortcake0413]

Last hope (part 3)

Characters:yandere Leon S Kennedy (older version) x reader

Disclaimer: This fanfic contains dark-themed topics, such as kidnapping, depression, suicidal thoughts, non-consent, unwanted pregnancy,etc

Warning: yandere Leon Kennedy, kidnapping, non-consent, depressed reader, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, unwanted pregnancy, emotional & mental abuse, out of character leon etc

@vg-k for the divider, thank you :)

The pictures used does not belong to me!!!

Chapters: pt1 pt2

For the past few days, you have been trying to get under Leon's skin back and forth. Asking him questions that either makes him furrowed his brows or blush.

While you were trying to get closer to your kidnapper, Leon saw an opportunity to make you his forever. You would only be his, and he would be the only thing that you found sense in.

Not only one dream he would gain from his excellent plan but three things. A baby, a complete family, and your love. Leon grinned to himself as his dove started massaging his big shoulders.

Even for a person who does a lot of physical work, Leon's body ached and tensed most of the time. His Dove's hands massaging him made him less tense and almost too easy.

His pants felt tight as he imagined your delicate hands on his cock. "My little girl... Do you know what you're doing to daddy?" Leon breathed out as he grabbed your hands.

He kissed your hands while whispering loving words. "You know daddy loves you so much, right? Baby? Daddy loves you more than anyone. I will protect you. From all those... only, only, if you love me back" he whimpered out while sucking your fingers one by one.

"Daddy... what are you doing?" You choked out as your cunt started pulsing from his doing.

Leon closed his eyes for a moment and zoned out from the world. It was now only you and him. He will ask you to start a family with him. Everytime he went out and saw a happy couple with their children, hanging round the park, so happy, it always broke his heart, string by string.

Now he finally found someone he loved, he was ready to start a family. He was ready since the day he turned 21, but life decided Leon didn't deserve someone good.

"But guess what? I won. I have everything I ever wanted now" Leon thought to himself as he slowly switched from your finger to your nipple.

During the time you stayed with Leon, you learned he had a lactation kink. Even though he never admitted he had one, you knew it from the way the older man always, always sucks your nipples before sex, closing his eyes and going down for it.

"L-Leon..." you squeaked, trying to move away from his mouth, causing him to almost growl.

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare run away from me." Leon barked, his mouth still attached to your bud, smacking your face.

You gently stroke your cheek where he had slapped you, it wasn't hard but you knew if you got him mad, he is more capable of doing more than just slapping.

After a few minutes, Leon came back to life and brought his hand sneakily inside your shorts. Rubbing in slow, torturing pace while you moaned like a bitch in heat.

"Leo-Da-Daddy..." you whined, grabbing his blind lock as his speed increased. It all came loose when he bit down your nipple. Leon groaned in response and pulled his fingers away.

"We're gonna have a family. You're going to be a good little mommy. And guess what? We're going to make it happen today. Right now" Leon smirked, pulling his pants down.

You came back from your high, aching for his touch, not even realizing you were forgetting who you are and what you planned.

"Please... please daddy" you whined, trying to take off his shirt in hurry. Leon's smirk grew wilder, seeing you finally becoming a good wife he always wanted.

"Good girl. On your fours" he commanded after you threw his shirt on the floor. You crawled on your fours on the bed, arching your back, trying to emphasize your ass to him more.

Leon sniffed your clothed cunt.

"Fuck angel. You smell so sweet. Gotta make sure to breed this sweet pussy" he groaned as he dived in your cunt. You could feel his nose occasionally sniffing your cunt and groaning to himself, and biting on your pussy lips.

After a few moments of teasing the both of you, he pulled your shorts down harshly before making sure your legs were free.

He slapped your ass cheek and grabbed the meat.

"Look at this ass. You were hiding these girls from everyone. Everyone should look at them." The blonde said, giving you a smack.

"Aww, does it hurt baby?" He cooed before doing the same. After five good smacks, he finally licked your cunt in a long stripe. Your legs shook from the stimulation as Leon kitten licked your clit.

"Leon!" You cried as you tried to lay down. He lifted your hips and smacked you again.

"Get up! No one is going to make a good baby if you keep being lazy. " he pulled you up. Then Leon started to make out with your pussy. Separating the folds with his fingers while his tongue thrusted in and out of you.

"Sweet like molasses," he said before turning your head up and kissing you. As he pulled away, a string of long saliva connected your lips. Not to mention you could taste yourself. It was sweet. Like condensed milk.

Your head was foggy with lust taking over your head. You couldn't even remember why you were with Leon in the first place. Or who he was. Or who you were.

"Daddy. Please. I want it." You whined trying to get to his cock closer by moving your ass in his direction.

"Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want, " Leon grasped out with a low voice. He was gripping your ass cheek so hard it was starting to lose its color.

"I want your babies, Daddy," you whimpered out. Just a week ago, you would have killed yourself with a kitchen knife if you said this shit. But now, it didn't matter. So what? Can't a girl be happy and careless for the first time? You did your role in society. Why can't you have someone to take care of you for once?

Inside the back of your mind, your past self was screaming at you. But in this moment, all that mattered was Leon.

Maybe. Just maybe. Domestic life wouldn't be so bad with him.

You were crying at this point, both from overstimulation and your thoughts. You didn't have anyone in life where you could trust with your secrets, someone you could hope that they will do anything for you, someone who could at least take care of you. Why did Leon have to appear as a kidnapper? An abuser and someone you shouldn't give in. Why couldn't he appear as a nice guy in your life? Normal man with a normal life.

Leon's eyes widened a little, almost unnoticeable if someone who didn't know him saw it, he was surprised you agreed to his dream life so quickly. He expected some resistance, whether it was a tantrum during sex, yelling, crying. But what he didn't expect was you giving up so much easier.

Maybe you wanted to give him children. Maybe you finally made a conclusion Leon was the love of your life, even if you didn't want to admit it.

"Yeah? You want daddy's babies? Daddy will give it to you, baby." Leon smiled, guiding his hard cock in your slit before inserting it in a quick motion. You whined from the sudden stretch, not giving you time to adjust to his cock, Leon started moving at a quick pace.

"Daddy..." you whimpered as Leon changed his pace to a slower one. Giving you the sensation you didn't feel often, so full, so warm, so intimate.

Leon laid on the top of your back, stretching his arms next to your head and started going in again.

"Le-" you started before Leon opened his mouth.

"Who? What did you call me?" He muttered lifting your head by your tangled hair.

"Daddy" you whimpered as he let go of you. Soon a coel in your lower belly began to explode. As your hands clenched his biceps, Leon's left hand sneaked down to rub your clit.

"My poor baby" Leon whispered as your face fell down on the pillow after you cum. You didn't even have the strength to get up, all sweaty and tired from good breeding.

Leon felt his cock twitch inside your pussy, after a few deep pumps he came inside. His cum leaking from your hole, the man collected them with his index and middle finger before pushing it all back and licking his fingers.

"My baby. My sweet baby. Why aren't you eating anything? Daddy made you your favorite. See?" Leon signed, pushing your plate full of waffles and a strawberry shake.

"What did you do to do research papers?" You mumbled, playing with your fork. For the last few hours, you and Leon watched a documentary regarding scientists making new drugs. Even if you didn't want to remember, you were a good doctor. A great even. Your research could have saved millions of people's lives every year, not to mention the success you could have had.

"Why do you ask?" Leon narrowed his eyes, his tone slightly changing to a low grumpy one. He had hoped you forgot about your past life completely, but you didn't.

"The box. It... it's my research project... did you take it... with me?" You mumbled, staring at his blue eyes, searching for the truth.

"No," Leon simply shrugged. "I left it in the driveway."

This somehow made you feel relaxed, if you knew he brought it with me, then you would have wanted to read the papers once more. Now that you knew it was long gone, you could let go of yourself. Time to empty the vase to be filled again by a new identity.

But at the same time you felt empty. The new identity Leon was trying to pour in you was

"Eat baby. It's good for you and our future baby" Leon cooed again, stroking your belly.

"I'm not even pregnant," you snapped. Leon narrowed his eyes at you. You were being so good lately. You just had to ruin both of your happiness. If he lets go of his behavior without doing anything, the blonde was afraid you would go back in process, to the same old you when he first got you.

"But you will be. And we need to be prepared for it. Now eat." he commanded in a harsh tone.

You grabbed the plastic fork aside from the plate and started eating. You didn't understand yourself anymore. You were torn between wanting a peaceful, domestic life with Leon and your successful, prideful career where you could bet with anyone you could do complicated surgeries.

"Can I crochet?" You mumbled to him suddenly when you two were cuddling after sex. For the last few days, Leon and you were hitting it every day. Sometimes, multiple times a day. You knew what he was hoping for. Even though being a housewife seemed not too bad to you now, you knew having kids was not your thing.

You always felt annoyed and red-faced with kids. How were you going to have one of your own? With Leon out of all people?

"Crochet? Why?" Leon raised his eyebrows. He didn't know if it was a good idea to give you a metal hook. You could hurt yourself.

"I'm bored. I have nothing to do in a day, " you mumbled, sleepy.

Leon kissed the top of your head and played with a string before signing.

"I'll bring you the necessities... but you gotta promise me one thing." Leon muttered. "Promise daddy, you will follow my rules."

"Okay... I will, " you squeaked before his hands crept under the blanket to you.

Leon went shopping after work, buying a bunch of colorful cotton yarns along with a wooden hook. He figured if you actually tried to harm yourself or him, wood would be safer than metal.

The cashier girl recommended him to buy some eyes and polyester for plushies, which he bought without hesitating. Leon couldn't wait for you to see them and be excited.

The life Leon hoped for was finally working. Almost no one questioned your disappearance, thanks to your fake friends and family. You were starting to obey him, most importantly, fall for him.

The first night he had intimacy with you was something unpleasant. You cried, screamed, and cursed him. But now, by the way you moaned his name off your tongue and almost voluntarily gave him your cunt, Leon knew or at least hoped you were changing.

You were watching a cooking show on TV, you weren't sure how old this model was, but you could guess it was from the 90s. Small blurb screen with a bulky main body.

Leon didn't like the idea of you watching violent shows as he says. But all of them were normal TV shows people watched and enjoyed. Instead, he figured letting you learn to cook for him was better.

"Angel, I'm home," Leon yelled. Too bad you can't come to him since he always locks three doors to your room.

He smiled seeing you in front of the baby sitting like a good girl, doing exactly what he wanted you to do.

"Look at what I got you, baby. It's a reward for you. You were such a good girl. " He cooed, kissing your head quickly before you tried to pull away. Strangely, you always moved away when he kissed your head. It was almost like you had a sore wound on the top of it. You started digging into the paper bag he brought.

"You got this for me? As you promised?" You mumbled, playing with the soft yarn. It seemed like a great quality.

"Why not? You promised me you'll be a good girl. And you're being a good girl." he patted your head.

"Thanks."

"Thanks what?"

"Thanks, Daddy." You rolled your eyes as he turned away.

"You don't need the guidebook I brought you?" Leon raised a brow while looking at you, making granny squares.

"I was taught at school... I never forget what I learned, " you mumbled while crocheting.

"What are you planning to make with these?" The older man groaned, picking up a few pieces and observing you.

"I don't know... maybe a blanket?"

"A blanket? That's a great idea, baby. You can make that for our baby. It will be perfect. Maybe some darker color if it's a boy and lighter for a girl." Leon knelt down next to you and kissed you.

"I think it's enough for today, love. Don't wanna get my baby girl hurt." Leon said, grabbing the yarn and hook away from you before listing you up on the bed.

"This hobby of yours took enough attention from you. It's time for me now.

[krazyyyyyy]

A True Friend Hyugo x Reader

While skipping class, a certain someone joins you

Words: 819

You rested your back against the trunk of an oak tree, your eyes tiredly reading the text of a novel your English professor had recently assigned to you, given your continuous procrastination throughout the week and your avoidance of reading the book. The paper you were supposed to write about the book was due tomorrow morning, and you hadn’t even started it or finished the book itself. That’s how you ended up out here, skipping class in the open fields behind your school, attempting to finish the book before the school day ended. You’d probably have to pull an all-nighter to write the paper, but that was a problem for later on.

You felt at ease where you sat, the soft bark of the oak tree against your back, the cool shade providing a respite from the sun's heat. While a subtle breeze, carrying the scent of grass and earth flowed freely around you. The chirping of birds and the gentle rustling of leaves in the wind were the only sounds you heard as you continued reading.

As you focused on the book, a faint sound caught your attention. It was the sound of soft, barely audible footsteps as they drew closer to you.

Suddenly, a cheerful voice rang out from right next to you.

“Whatcha reading?”

A smile appears on your face at the familiar voice of your friend, Hyugo. “Jane Eyre. I guess it’s about an orphan girl struggling in life. It’s actually not that bad.” You reply without looking away from your book.

He smiled as he curiously looked over your shoulder to examine the book's contents. 

He then laughed “Since when do you skip class to read?”

You let out a sigh. “Since today… I have to finish this book and then write a paper about it, all by tomorrow morning, or else I can kiss my A in English goodbye.” You glance at the boy curiously, “What are you doing out here anyway, Hyugo?”

Hyugo kept his usual smile as he sat on the grass next to you, leaning back onto the tree with his hands resting behind his head. “I didn’t feel like going to my history class. It’s so boring (Y/N)!” He pouts.

You laugh, shaking your head in amusement, “You never feel like going to class. How in the world are you still in the student council?”

He shrugs, smiling, “I guess I'm just that amazing.” You suppose he wasn't totally wrong, but you wouldn’t tell him that; Hyugo always managed to be at the top of the class, regardless of whether he showed up to class or not. Knowing his secretive nature, you’d probably never figure out how he does it.

 You roll your eyes, turning your attention back to your book. The two of you sit in comfortable silence—that is, until Hyugo decides to speak again a couple of moments later.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hm?”

“You think you’ll ever make it to the Higher Class?”

Instantly, the book before you didn’t seem as interesting anymore. Everyone at your school dreamed of being a part of the Higher Class, but only very few actually succeeded in making it in. Even if you’re born rich, it's not always guaranteed you’ll make it, especially when everyone makes mistakes…

You close the book, setting it down beside you. “I hope so. It would take a huge burden off my family’s shoulders…I don’t think I can afford to fail.” You let your head fall against the tree in exasperation, looking to the sky in an attempt to ignore the aching in your chest. Knowing you were your family's last hope broke you in ways you never thought possible.

A sudden weight and softness on your shoulder snap you out of your daze. You look over to see Hyugo resting his head on your shoulder with his eyes closed. “(Y/N), If you ever need anything…and I mean anything, let me know. I’ll be there…Always.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

“Thank you, Hyugo,” You whisper, keeping your emotions in check. “But I have to do this myself.” You had to endure this burden alone, regardless of the support you were offered. You made a promise to your father, and you intended to keep it.

Hyugo sighs. “I know, but it’s good to remember that there are people who…” He pauses, choosing his next words carefully. “... really care about you.”

You smile, resting your head on his. “You worry too much.”. 

He chuckles. “If I don’t, who will?” He then yawns, nestling his head comfortably on your shoulder. It doesn’t take long before he’s fast asleep and quietly snoring.

Although tempted to finish your book, you can’t help but give in to the temptation of sleep as your eyes grow weary. Nuzzling into the softness of Hyugo’s hair, you fall asleep without a single worry on your mind for the first time in a long time.

[dianawinchester03]

The Rebel

Series Masterlist

Part One of Two to The Rebel and The Runaway

Summary: Sam had always dreamed of leaving the life and going to college. Today was finally the day he’d find out if he got in, but when he did…he was dreading the reactions of his family.

(Y/N and Sam are 18 years old and Dean is 22 years old)

TW: Mentions of abuse/violence against minors.

BASED ON:

The Old Testament Series.

Genesis Primis: A Supernatural Rewrite (Dean Winchester x Reader) by @dianawinchester03

_______________________________________________

Third Person POV

•2001

Sam paced in the living room. "I'm nervous," he huffed as he held the letter from Stanford in his hands. "Yeah, no kidding. You're gonna get in, Sammy" Y/N assured him. "You say that but..." Sam replied, looking down at the letter in his hands, "What if I don't?"

Y/N rolled her eyes at him and snatched it away from Sam, “Fine, I’ll open it” She grumbled, tearing open the little envelope. "What- Hey!" Sam tried to grab the letter back when Y/N took it, but she wouldn’t let him get it. "You just said you're too scared to open it, so I'm doing it for you" She retorted.

She narrowed her eyes at the letter, reading it as she put on a faux-sad face. “Dear Mr. Winchester…we regret to inform you that…” Sam's heart sank, thinking Y/N was reading a rejection letter to him, he was about to speak when Y/N smirked and continued with a smirk, "You've been accepted!"

Sam's eyes widened, "What?" he then quickly snatched the letter from Y/N's hands and looked at the letter to confirm what she said was true and then couldn’t hide his excitement. “Congratulations you dipshit!” Y/N cheered but internally her heart sank, knowing she won’t be seeing her best friend again but it’s what he deserved. He wanted out and he just got it. She couldn’t be happier for him.

Sam suddenly wrapped his arms around Y/N in a tight embrace with a dorky, wide smile on his face. "Oh my God, I can't believe it! I got in!" he exclaimed. “I told you!” She scoffed, shoving him lightly when they pulled away from the hug. He chuckled slightly, ruffling her hair, "Yeah, yeah, I know" he said before a realization hit him, he then frowned a bit.

“How are we gonna tell Dean?” Sam voiced his concern. “He’s not gonna take it well…” Y/N replied, knowing that as soon as Sam told Dean about Stanford and that he was finally getting out, Dean was gonna be heartbroken. Sam nodded as he sat down on the couch. “Yeah, I know, but I can’t not tell him, ya know…” he pointed out, a sense of guilt building up inside him.

“You can tell him when you’re ready” Y/N rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. Sam sighed, "I guess you’re right..." He looked at Y/N, appreciating her understanding and comforting words. "Thanks, y/n/n". She smiled at him, resting her head on his shoulder, “Anytime, Sammy”

-

•Two Days Later

After days of trying to find the perfect time to tell Dean, Sam was finally ready to do it. John and F/N we’re still on their hunt, thankfully. He was nervous, knowing how his brother would react but took a deep breath and walked into the living room where he found Dean watching tv. Sam sat down next to him.

"Hey, Dean... Can we talk?" Dean looked over at Sam and immediately noticed the serious tone in his brother's voice. He turned off the tv and gave Sam his undivided attention. "Yeah, Sammy. What's up?"

Sam took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "So, I applied to Stanford a while back..." he began carefully. Dean's eyebrows furrowed slightly, and a look of confusion passed over his face. "Stanford? As in the college in California?" he asked, trying to understand what Sam was getting at.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, that's the one. I uh... I got a letter from them recently" he paused for a moment, bracing himself for the reaction, "I got accepted." Dean's expression changed instantly, his jaw clenching as if holding back a mix of emotions. "You...you what?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Y/N emerged from the kitchen, oblivious to what was going on. “Fellas, I made burg-“ She holt mid sentence when the tension was noticeable, her eyes flickering between the brothers.

Dean and Sam were locked in a silent staredown, with Sam waiting for his brother to respond and Dean trying to process the news. Y/N could read the room and instinctively came closer to the brothers.

Dean finally spoke, still trying to keep his cool even though it was evident he wasn’t taking the news well, "You're leaving? After everything we've been through, you’re just gonna up and leave for some fancy college in California?"

Oh boy, here we go. Y/N thought to herself.

Sam felt a pang of guilt as he heard the hurt in his brother's voice, but he remained resolute. "Dean, this is my chance to have a normal life. A life away from hunting and all the crap we've been through" he tried to explain.

Dean clenched his jaw tighter, "Normal? You think some college in California is gonna make you normal?" he let out a scoff, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Dean shook his head, his expression hardening further. "There's no such thing as a ‘normal life’ for people like us, Sammy" he snapped, standing up from his seat. "You think you can just walk away and forget everything we've done, everything we've sacrificed?"

Y/N gulped slightly, the harsh words from Dean stung her for Sam. “Woah, easy! Harsh words, man” She warned Dean. He shot a quick glare in Y/N's direction, but his focus returned to Sam. "Harsh words? It's the truth" he retorted, his voice strained.

Sam stood up too, trying to keep his own voice level. "I'm not trying to forget anything, Dean. I just need some space, some normalcy in my life for a change. Can’t you just be happy for me?! Its a full ride man” Sam pleaded with his brother.

"Happy for you? How the hell am I supposed to be happy about this?" Dean snapped. "You're ditching us, your family. For some damn college" his voice quivered slightly, a mix of anger and sadness seeping through. Trying desperately not to cry.

In reality, Dean was proud of his baby brother for his accomplishment, but his anger at the fact that he’s gonna be leaving was getting the best of him. It was more the thought of never seeing Sam again that got to him.

Sam could see the anger and hurt in Dean's eyes, and he knew it was coming from a place of love and concern. "I'm not ditching you, Dean. I'm just trying to do something for myself for once" he argued, trying to make his brother understand.

“Come on, y/n/n. Back me up here” Sam turned to Y/N, pleading with her to come to his defense. Y/N took a deep breath, stepping forward. "Sam's right, Dean. He deserves a chance at a normal life." Dean looked at her, his gaze hardening. "And what about you? You're just gonna let him go?"

“I don’t have control over what someone does. I’m no one’s mother, but I support his decision because all of us deserve a shot at a normal life. Not one that is gonna get us killed before we can see our 30’s. So yes, I’m on Sam’s side here” She snapped back, challenging his hard gaze.

Dean clenched his fists, frustration and anger clear on his face. "So, you're both just gonna ditch me then. Great." Y/N's eyes widened at his comment. "Ditch you? Is that what you think this is?" She retorted, her voice raised slightly. “I’m not going anywhere, first of all. And secondly, Sam’s not ditching us!”

"Isn't he?" Dean interjected, his voice bitter. "He's off to some fancy college, living the dream while you and I stay here, fighting the good fight. Sounds pretty much like ditching us to me"

“It’s not ditching, Dean, it’s called starting fresh!" Sam interjected, trying to get his brother to understand. "Oh yeah? And what about me, huh? What am I supposed to do without you?” Dean shot back.

“You…you’ll be fine, Dean. You always are” Sam said, his voice softer this time, sensing the underlying vulnerability in Dean’s statement. “You’ve got, y/n/n with you. You’ll be alright”. Dean couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt at Sam’s words. “Right, yeah. I’ve got Y/N. That’s great” he retorted sarcastically before storming out of the house, slamming the door harshly behind him.

Sam flinched at the sound of the door slamming, feeling a mix of guilt and anger. "Damn it, Dean!" he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Y/N sighed, shaking her head. "You know he's not really mad about you going to Stanford. He's mad about being left behind. In his own way, he’s happy for you” She assured Sam.

Sam nodded, knowing that she was right. "Yeah, I know" he said, a pang of guilt still evident in his voice. "But I can't help how I feel either. I need this, y/n/n” he looked at her, seeking understanding and support. “I know, and I’m so proud of you Sammy. You have my full support” She smiled tearfully, wrapping her arms around his shoulders into a tight embrace in efforts to comfort him.

Sam returned the hug, burying his face in her shoulder. "Thanks, y/n/n." He said into her hair, his voice slightly muffled. “I just wish Dean could see it the same way you do” She sighed deeply at his words. “He’ll come around….it’s Dad and John you’ve gotta worry about” Her last words came out a bit quieter.

Sam’s face paled a little at the mention of their fathers. “Oh god...how am I gonna tell Dad and F/N? They’re gonna kill me” He groaned, burying his face further into Y/N's shoulder. Y/N chuckled lightly at his worry. "I think you're being a little dramatic, Sammy. They're not gonna kill you. But yeah, you might end up with a broken nose" she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Sam groaned again, "Great, that’s reassuring” He lifted his head to look at her, a slight smile on his face. "Thanks for having my back, y/n/n. I don’t know what I'd do without you" She smirked at this, “You’d probably still have pimples on your face if I didn’t give you that face mask remedy” She quipped.

Sam playfully shoved her shoulder, causing her to stumble back a bit. “Hey! I was twelve, okay? And you forced it on me” He defended himself, but there was a hint of humor in his voice. “Yeah yeah, whatever pizza face” She snorted. “There’s burgers in the kitchen for dinner. Go eat while I see what’s up with your hothead brother”

Sam rolled his eyes but chuckled lightly at her pizza face comment. He shook his head and headed to the kitchen.

-

Meanwhile, Y/N pushed the door open, surprised to see Dean sat on the porch. His face buried in his hands. The sun was starting to set, casting a warm orange glow over the surroundings.

Dean seemingly didn’t hear her come out, too trapped in his own wallowing, until she sat besides him. Y/N rested a hand on his back, rubbing it in soothing circles. “Hey charming?” she spoke up, her voice soft but firm. Dean looked up, acknowledging her presence with a sullen look on his face. He didn’t say anything, his thoughts still consumed by Sam's announcement.

Y/N scooted a bit closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "You're being a bit of a douche, you know that right?" she said bluntly, knowing that a gentle approach wasn't gonna work in this situation.

Dean let out a scoff, running a hand through his shaggy blonde hair that’s a bit grown out. "Yeah, well, I just got told my brother is gonna ditch us. Excuse me for not being thrilled about it" he said sarcastically, the anger still present in his voice, even when speaking to y/n.

Y/N sighed, her patience slowly thinning. "He's not ditching us, he's just trying to better his future. And if you weren't such an emotionally constipated douchebag, you'd see that and be happy for him" She retorted, raising her head to look at him.

Dean's eyes darkened at her words, his anger flaring. "Oh yeah, because you're an expert on emotions" he said with a hint of mockery, knowing damn well she struggled with her own suppressed emotions. “Don’t you turn this back on me, Winchester” She pointed at him firmly. “Just be happy for him, man”

Dean exhaled sharply, running a hand over his tired face. He knew Y/N was right. He was just too stubborn to admit it. "It's not just about being happy for him, y/n/n. It's about him leaving. He's not just my little brother, you know. He's my responsibility. Dad told me I was supposed to protect him, and how am I supposed to do that when he's all the way in California?"

Y/N sighed, understanding his sense of responsibility when it comes to Sam. She brought her hand up to tuck a lock of his overgrown dark blonde hair behind his ear before saying, “I know in your eyes he’ll always be that chubby 12-year old with a pizza face. But he’s growing up, we all are. He can and will look out for himself. You gotta let him move on, sweetie” She said gently.

Dean's expression softened as Y/N tucked his hair behind his ear. Her touch was always comforting to him, even in the midst of his emotional turmoil. "I know he's growing up," he murmured, his voice quieter now.

"It's just...I've always looked out for him, y/n/n. It's what Dad wants, what I promised him. And I promised F/N the same with you too. And now Sam’s saying he doesn't need me to anymore" He confessed, a hint of vulnerability slipping into his voice.

Y/N’s heart sank at this, tears stinging at her eyes. “Honey, that’s not what he’s saying. I can promise you, it was not an easy decision for him to make. He just wants to be happy, and he wants you to be happy for him. Sam will always need his big brother”

Dean's shoulders slumped as Y/N's words sunk in. "I want him to be happy, I do" He said, more to himself than to her. He was silent for a moment, lost in thought. Then he spoke up again, his voice filled with a different kind of vulnerability. "What about us? What are we gonna do without him, y/n/n?"

“Honestly..” She chuckled dryly, shaking her head. “I have no fucking idea man” She held back her tears. “But we’ll be alright” A crooked smile made its way to her face. Dean looked at Y/N’s attempt at a smile, and it tugged at his heartstrings. He knew she was putting on a brave face for his sake, but he could see the unshed tears in her eyes.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him, as if trying to shield her from the painful reality they were facing. “Yeah, we will” He murmured, more for himself than for her.

Then and there, Dean broke into tears. He couldn’t hold in the dam any longer. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight as he cried. It was a rare sight to see Dean Winchester, the tough, sarcastic guy who carried the world on his shoulders, break down.

She stroked his hair, holding him close, letting him release the pent-up emotions that he’d been holding in for so long. Y/N's heart broke as she watched Dean finally let his emotions out. The tough facade he always wore cracked, leaving behind a vulnerable man who was struggling to cope with the reality of the situation.

Allowing him to cry into her arms, he shook with emotion as tears sprung from her own eyes. A mixture of dread from Sam leaving, but it was mainly due to seeing Dean break down like this.

Dean clutched onto Y/N, his face buried against her shoulder. For a moment, he allowed himself to be vulnerable, to let out the emotions he’d been holding in for so long. It wasn’t just about Sam leaving, but the weight of the world that always seemed to rest on his shoulders. All the hunts he’d been on, the people he’d seen die, the responsibility he’d taken on for his family, it was all coming out now.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, but eventually, his sobs subsided, leaving him feeling empty and exhausted. “It’s okay…it’ll be okay” She cooed, laying a kiss at the top of his head.

Dean nodded, his chest heaving softly as he tried to steady his breathing. He pulled away slightly from Y/N’s embrace, wiping the tears from his face with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to lose it like that” He muttered, his voice raspy from crying.

“Hey, no apologies needed, babe. It’s okay to cry, you know. You don’t always have to be the tough guy” She smiled comfortingly, gently wiping a remaining tear that had escaped down his cheek.

Dean managed a weak smile, feeling a bit pathetic for crying like that. He was supposed to be the strong one, the one who comforted others, not the other way around. But there was something about Y/N’s comfort that made the weakness feel alright.

“I won’t tell any of your girlfriends that you’re such a big sap” She joked, nudging his shoulder with hers. Dean managed a small chuckle at her joke. “Gee, thanks. Don’t go ruining my rep now, princess” He retorted, the hint of his usual sarcasm returning to his voice. “There’s my guy” She laughed, throwing her head back.

-

•One Week Later

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Sam stood in front of John and F/N, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d just dropped the news that he got accepted into Stanford and, as expected, it didn’t go well.

John’s face was dark, a mixture of anger and disappointment etched into every line. F/N sat silently, his eyes staring at Sam as if he were a stranger.

“Let me get this straight” John said, his voice low and dangerous, breaking the tense silence. “You’re telling me you’ve decided to turn your back on this family for a damn college?”

Y/N gritted her teeth at John’s words as she sat on the couch next to Dean. Sam was in the middle of the living room while John and F/N were on the biggest couch, a glass of whiskey in each of their hands.

Sam held his ground, his eyes locked on John. “Dad, it’s not like that. This is something I feel I need to do. It’s my life, my decision” He said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Your life, your decision?” John scoffed, setting his nearly emptied glass down on the coffee table with a loud thud before throwing, aiming at Sam’s head.

Out of instinct, the younger Winchester ducked, the glass narrowly missing him, shattering against the concrete wall. “You’re a Hunter, Sam. We’re a family of Hunters. That’s your life, not going off to college to play normal.”

Dean and Y/N’s eyes widened, not really surprised as it wasn’t the first glass John had thrown at any of them. But the sheer anger and rage that spread across his face.

F/N tried to mediate the situation, “Okay, take it easy John. We don’t need neighbors complaining about another argument” He tried to step in, placing a hand on John’s shoulder before shooting a glare at his daughter who had her fists balled up on her lap.

“This is not up for discussion,” John continued, completely ignoring F/N’s attempt to diffuse the situation. “You’re staying, Sam. End of story.”

“Like hell I am!” Sam's calm exterior cracked, the anger boiling to the surface. “I’m eighteen, Dad. You can’t tell me what to do anymore” John's eyes flared at Sam's response. “You think I won’t? I’m your father, Samuel. You obey me. And that means staying and continuing on as a Hunter. That’s final”

“No!” Sam yelled, his voice echoing in the tense room. “I won’t do it! I’m done with hunting! Done with this life. I want more than just moving from town to town, hunting some monster of the week and hoping we don’t all end up dead!”

“Watch your tone, son” John’s voice turned deadly as he rose from the couch, standing face to face with Sam. “We have given you kids good lives. Taught you how to look after yourse-“

“GOOD LIVES!?” Sam interrupted, anger and resentment pouring out of him. “A good life killing stuff? Living in motels and safehouses and never having a normal life?” He countered, his voice rising with each point he made.

“We sacrificed everything for you kids” John said, his eyes flashing with a fiery anger. “Your mother’s death, M/N’s death, our own sanities. Not all of us want to live a life of mediocrity” He spat out, the accusation hanging heavy in the air as he gestured between him and F/N.

Sam clenched his jaw, fury burning in his eyes. “You want to talk about sacrifices, Dad? How about the sacrifice of our entire childhoods!? HUH?! The countless hours Dean spent taking care of me and y/n while you and F/N were out on hunts? He had to grow up and become a fucking parent himself because you both were so dead set on this ‘Hunt for the evil at all costs’ BULLSHIT!!”

John's expression hardened, the accusation about his parenting skills hitting a sensitive spot. “Don't you dare try to turn this around on me. I did what I had to do to keep you kids safe. Even if it meant sacrificing a ‘normal’ life” He retorted, the self-righteousness in his voice making y/n’s skin crawl.

She attempted to get up so she could lay a good right hook across his jaw but Dean gripped her by her thigh, holding her down to the couch as F/N held John back, afraid he was gonna punch Sam. Dean got up and ran over to his Dad, helping F/N hold him back. “Come on, John! Knock it off!” F/N pleaded with his best friend.

“Dad, please. Just relax!” Dean pleaded, begging his father to calm down, shooting a desperate look at his brother to keep his trap shot before John retorted to violence.

“Safe? SAFE!? You call living on the brink of death every day safe? You call constantly looking over your shoulder, worrying when the next monster is gonna take us out safe? You call watching your parents turn into damn alcoholics safe?!” Sam shouted, the pain and frustration in his voice cracking.

John winced at Sam's words, feeling the sting of truth. But he was too much of a stubborn, prideful man to fully admit it. He pushed against F/N’s hold, his body vibrating with anger. “You have no idea the danger that’s out there! We taught you how to defend yourself, and gave you skills to survive in this world! If it weren’t for us hunting, you’d be dead a hundred times over!” He fired back, the volume of his own voice rising.

“That’s just it, isn’t it, Dad? It’s all about monsters and the next dangerous thing out there. You don’t give a damn about us as people. We’re just pawns in your ‘fight against evil’!” Sam fired back, the pain and bitterness in his voice cutting through the air like a knife.

With that, John balled up his fist, drawing it back, punching his younger son square across his face.

The blow landed hard, sending Sam reeling backwards, his hand automatically flying up to his abused jaw as he stumbled off balance. He looked at their dad with a mix of pain and anger. He wasn’t surprised that it resorted to violence, considering his father’s temper, but he didn’t expect a punch. The pain and shock lasted for a few seconds before Sam’s own anger flared.

Y/N let out a stunned gasp, not surprised by the punch John sent Sam’s way, but by the blood that came trickling down his nose as she shot to her feet, rushing over to check on Sam while Dean held back his abusive father with the help of F/N. Anger etched on his face when he hit Sammy.

“Are you alright?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she cupped his face gently, inspecting the cut on his nose. Sam grimaced as her fingers touched the inflamed skin, but he managed a small nod. His eyes were still locked onto his father, challenging him.

John's eyes narrowed at Sam's challenge, the anger in them only growing. He struggled against the hold F/N and Dean had on him, his fists clenching with the urge to hit his son again.

“Enough! Both of you!” Y/N’s firm voice cut through the tense air, grabbing everyone's attention. “You shut your trap before he hits you again” Y/N snapped at him in a low tone, pulling him out of the room. Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Y/N's firm grip and sharp reprimanding stopped him. He knew she had a point. With a last defiant glare at his father, he allowed her to guide him out of the room, Dean and F/N continuing to restrain the infuriated John.

-

She guided him upstairs, shoving open the door to her room. “Sit” She said firmly, pointing to her bed as she reached under it to pull out the first aid kit.

Sam obeyed her command, albeit a bit reluctantly, and took a seat on the bed. He winced slightly as he gingerly touched the wound on his nose, the adrenaline and anger wearing off, leaving pain in its wake.

He watched quietly as Y/N rummaged under the bed, and brought out the first aid kit. “That went better than I expected” Sam’s dry tone broke the silence. Y/N let out a dry, humorless laugh as she knelt in front of him, opening the first aid kit on her bed. "Yeah, I was expecting a little more bloodshed, honestly” She quipped back, beginning to clean the wound on his nose with an antiseptic pad.

“I’m leaving tonight,” Sam informed her. Y/N froze, her hands pausing her work for a moment. She looked up at him, a mix of shock and concern in her eyes. "Leaving? Tonight? Sam, that's..." She trailed off, not sure what to say.

“How are you gonna get there?” Sam shrugged, the movement pulling at the cut on his nose and causing him to wince. "I'll figure it out. Maybe hitchhike or something.”

“What are you? Insane?!” She snapped, shoving the cotton ball up his nose roughly before pacing over to her desk. Snatching up the keys to her Harley that her father gifted her for her 16th birthday. “Take Quinn” she rested the keys into Sam’s hand.

Sam blinked in surprise, looking down at the keys in his hand, then back up at her. "You'd let me take your bike? But...that's your baby." He knew how much that Harley meant to her. “Consider it my going away present” She said sadly, but Sam shook his head. “Hell no, I can’t, I won’t. You know how she scares me” He whispered the last part, denying the ‘going away present’

Y/N smiled slightly at his reluctance, understanding his fear of the powerful bike. "You don't have a choice, Sammy. You need a reliable way to get to Stanford, and Quinn's the best option. Besides, I trust you won’t wreck her, and you know she runs like a dream."

Sam appreciated her kindness, his heart warming at the gesture but shook his head again, “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t, dude. My luggage can’t fit on her. I’ll figure it out” Y/N pursed her lips, contemplating his argument. She knew he had a point about the luggage situation. “Alright fine, then how are you planning on getting to Stanford?”

Sam fidgeted a bit at her question, avoiding her gaze as he spoke. "I'll figure out something" He repeated, the vagueness in his answer telling her he didn’t have a solid plan yet.

“I’ll drive you” Dean’s voice boomed from the door. Both Sam and Y/N turned to look at the doorway, finding Dean leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. Sam's eyes widened with surprise at his brother's offer, while Y/N looked at Dean with a mixture of caution and hope.

"You’d do that for me?" Sam asked, a mix of disbelief and relief in his voice. "Of course, I would, dumbass" Dean responded, rolling his eyes. "You think I’d let you hitchhike or whatever dumbass idea you had and risk the chance of you gettin' kidnapped or killed?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of Sam's lips. "Thanks, Dean." Y/N looked between the brothers, a wave of mixed emotions washing over her. She was grateful that Dean was stepping up to help his younger brother, but she also felt a pang of sadness.

-

Sam carefully pulled his luggage down the stairs, the wheels of the suitcase loudly rolling over the steps. He could hear low voices coming from the living room, likely F/N and his father arguing again.

He was a mixture of nervous and excited to finally be leaving, but deep down, he also felt a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving Y/N and Dean behind.

Sam paused on the last step as he heard John's voice booming from the living room. It was followed by F/N's voice, his tone stern and reprimanding. The discussion was heated, the two men arguing about Sam's decision to leave and pursue his own path.

John’s ears perked up when he heard the steps creaking. The three young hunters emerging from it. John's head snapped up as he heard the creaking steps, his attention immediately focused on Sam, Dean and Y/N. His eyes darkened with a mix of anger and disappointment as he saw Sam's packed luggage.

F/N stood beside him, his expression unreadable, but his body tense as he braced for another argument. The room fell into a tense silence as the three young hunters stood in the doorway, a mix of defiance and determination etched on their faces.

John's gaze fixated on his younger son. "So, you're really going through with this. Running away from your responsibilities?"

"I'm not running away," Sam replied firmly, meeting his father's gaze directly. "I'm making my own path, pursuing my own dreams. Something you wouldn't understand" John's jaw tightened at Sam's words, his temper flaring. "Your dreams? Dreams are for children, Samuel. You have a responsibility to this family, a legacy to uphold."

“Alright, that’s enough outta you two. Come on, Sammy. Let’s go” Y/N cut in, glaring at John as she pulled Sam and Dean outside.

John opened his mouth to protest, but Y/N's harsh glare silenced him. Sam shot his father one last look before following Y/N outside along with his brother.

The night air was cool and crisp, the stars shining brightly overheard. Dean wordlessly loaded the luggage into the trunk of the Impala while Sam walked around to the passenger side, his heart pounding with a mix of emotions.

-

The ride to the airport was quiet, the tension in the air palpable. Sam sat in the backseat, his eyes fixed out the window, watching the scenery pass by in a blur. Dean was gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white from the strength of his grip. Y/N sat in the passenger, her gaze shifting between the brothers, her heart heavy with mixed emotions.

After some time, the neon lights of the airport sign came into view, signaling their destination. Dean pulled the Impala into the airport parking lot and shut off the engine. Silence fell over the trio as they sat in the car, nobody wanting to be the first to break the tension. Sam broke the silence first, turning to look at his brother. "Well, I guess this is it" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dean clenched his jaw, his grip on the steering wheel tightening even more. He didn’t respond, his emotions too raw to form a coherent response. Y/N could see the pain in his eyes, and she knew he was struggling with saying goodbye to his younger brother.

Sam glanced back at Y/N, his expression softening slightly. He knew she was going through hell watching them leave her behind, just as much as they were. "Hey," he started, his voice gentle. "I'll...I'll keep in touch, alright? I promise."

“You better, or else I’m flying to Stanford myself and giving you a good ass kicking” She retorted, attempting to ease the situation as they all hopped out, Dean making his way around to the trunk, unlocking it to take out the luggage as Sam shut the backseat door.

A small, forced smile tugged at the corners of Sam's lips at her threat. He knew she would absolutely do what she said if he failed to keep his word. "I believe you" He replied, only half-jokingly.

Dean grunted as he hoisted Sam's luggage out of the trunk, the weight of the bags feeling heavier than usual. Dean lifted the luggage from the trunk, grumbling under his breath as he hoisted the heavy bags. "You packed bricks in here, Sammy?"

"You know me, I like to be prepared," Sam retorted, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Dean just grunted in response, shooting a glare at his brother. Y/N stood nearby, her arms crossed over her chest, trying to keep her emotions in check.

The sight of the three of them together in front of the bright lights of the airport was a bittersweet one. They had grown up together, fought beside each other, and now they were being torn apart once again.

Y/N nudged Dean with her elbow, giving him a look that said, ‘Say something before I kick your ass too’. Dean caught her look and sighed, realizing that he had to man up and say his goodbyes. He set the luggage down, turning to face his little brother.

His usual cocky demeanor was nowhere to be found, Replaced by raw emotions. "You...You take care of yourself, alright, Sammy? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do" He croaked out.

Sam nodded, his own emotions threatening to spill over. "You too, Dean. And look out for Y/N, alright? She'll get into more trouble than me, I bet" He joked, trying to lighten the mood. But his voice was shaky, betraying his conflicted feelings.

Y/N rolled her eyes, flipping Sam off as he pulled his brother into a hug. “Bitch” Dean grunted, patting his little brother on his back one last time. “Jerk,” Sam retorted.

Y/N watched the brothers part ways, her heart aching for them. She knew this was a difficult moment for them, saying goodbye to each other after being inseparable for so long, it was painful.

Sam turned to her, his eyes filled with sadness. "Guess it's my turn to say goodbye now," He mumbled, and before he could even finish his sentence, Y/N pulled him into a tight, bone-crushing hug.

“Crackhead” Sam grunted. “Dipshit” Y/N snorted back as they parted the hug, she reached into her jacket and pulled out an envelope she kept, just for this day. Handing it to Sam. Sam accepted the envelope, shooting her a confused look. "What's this?" He inquired, his voice gruff with emotion.

“Just a little walking around cash.” She waved it off but it had well over a grand in the envelope. Sam's eyes widened in surprise as he opened the envelope, a stack of cash staring back at him. He knew Y/N didn't have much money, how had she managed to get this much? "Y/N/N... I can't-" He protested.

“For once, Sammy. Listen” She pleaded, not wanting to go back home with the money after hustling dozens of pool and poker to scrape together that much cash, “You’ll need it for your books and stuff. That crap is expensive” Sam looked at her, torn between gratitude and stubbornness.

He knew she wasn't gonna take no for an answer. He wasn’t used to relying on anyone, especially financially, but the thought of going to college broke and worrying about money seemed like a nightmare.

With a reluctant sigh, he finally gave in, stuffing the envelope into his pocket. "Fine. But I’m paying you back every cent. You got that?" She waved this off, “Pay me back in free lawyering when I get in trouble again” She smirked, patting his shoulder.

Sam huffed out a small laugh, the first genuine one since they arrived at the airport. "Deal. But if you actually do end up in jail again, I swear to God, I will make you wish you'd never met me."

“We’ll see about that college boy” She scoffed, rolling her eyes as Dean smiled tearfully at their exchange. The love and care she had for both of them was inexplicable and undying. Something he always considered himself lucky for.

They stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of the situation sinking in. They knew this was it. The moment they would have to say their final goodbyes.

Dean cleared his throat, trying to keep his emotions in check. "Alright, enough sappy crap. I think we should get going now. Airport security won’t like us hangin’ around here longer than necessary".

Sam nodded in agreement, understanding the necessity to move on. "Yeah, you're right". He looked at Y/N, not wanting to let go just yet but knowing he had to. He took a deep breath before lugging his suitcase away. Giving his brother and best friend one last tearful took before entering the airport.

Y/N watched as Sam disappeared through the doors of the airport, her heart feeling as if it had been ripped open. She had known this day was coming, and yet it still hurt fiercely.

Beside her, Dean was struggling to keep his composure, but he was rattled. "He’ll be alright," She mumbled, more to assure herself than anything. "He better be” Dean added, Y/N turned to see the tears threatening to escape his eyes again before wrapping a comforting arm around his waist.

Dean leaned into her touch, grateful for her being there with him. Together, they watched the airport doors for a few more moments before finally turning to head back to the Impala, the drive home likely to be even more depressing than the way to the airport.

_______________________________________________

Authors Note: And that draws the mid way mark to a bitter sweet chapter, this is how I always personally imagined Sam telling John and F/N about Stanford going.

And how I’d imagine Dean reacted to it, so I hope everyone enjoyed!

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1

Xoxo

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 9]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.2K

Another morning shift was done. Like always, you were not there, having stepped out for a breather. Yunho was used to it now, he didn't feel worried about where you disappeared to anymore, even if he didn't know your reason behind it. All the boys were gathered in the kitchen when you poked your head in.

"Hwa. May I speak with you?" You called. All the boys turned their heads, Mingi even shivering at how cold your tone suddenly was. Seonghwa hummed and nodded, stepping out with you.

"Is everything okay?" San asked.

"Who knows." Wooyoung shrugged. He shared a brief glance with Jongho before they continued clearing up for the night.

Even if Wooyoung and Jongho knew, they wouldn't give anything away. They knew you valued your privacy and details about your personal life.

"Good job, today everyone. It marks one week of us opening." Yunho smiled, lifting the atmosphere again.

"Since we have the rest of the day off, I got some alcohol free sparkling apple cider." He went to get the cold beverage.

"Boo, we want alcohol." Jongho and Wooyoung scoffed.

"We shouldn't spend the rest of the day drunk and I don't want to seem like I am encouraging day drinking." Yunho laughed and got some plastic disposable champagne flutes. He popped the cork and everyone clapped.

"Sorry about that." You and Seonghwa came in.

"No need to apologise. Just on time for Yunho's toast." Mingi laughed. Yunho poured the sparkling cider into the cups and handed it out to everyone.

"I didn't prepare a toast but I guess thank you all for the hard work so far. We have been open for one week... To more weeks!" He raised his cup. You stifled a laugh at his words but all of you raised your cups.

"That was a terrible toast, Yunho ah." Hongjoong chuckled. Yunho blushed, his ears turning red.

"This is not alcoholic?" You raised an eyebrow after taking a sip.

"Boss says he doesn't want to encourage day drinking." Yeosang said. You blinked slowly, processing his words, but nodded your head with an amused smirk on your face.

"Looks like I've got to go." You checked your watch and gulped down the remaining bit of the drink. Jongho nodded while Wooyoung pouted, coming over to squish you into a tight hug, kissing you on the cheek, which you frowned at slightly but didn't protest. You patted Wooyoung on the back.

"I'll see you all tomorrow." You bowed your head, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"I can drop you off." Seonghwa offered softly.

"It's fine, Hwa. I'll text you later." You said. There was no emotion on your face that gave away how you felt. You weren't frustrated or touched by Seonghwa's want to drop you off.

"Bye." You waved and walked out first. As the rest finished what they needed to do, those that were done left first.

"Thanks guys." Yunho waved as Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho took their leave.

"I'm done sweeping." San groaned and stretched his arms over his head. Yeosang and Hongjoong were done with wiping the tables and the chairs as well.

"Shall we get lunch before we split?" Yunho beamed.

"As much as you're all my close friends, I've seen you all almost everyday for the past week. I need a break from all of you." Mingi scoffed, finishing his task of wiping the coffee cups and stacking them at the barista counter.

"Seconded. I need to go for my solo session at the gym." Yeosang raised his hand.

"Hear that, San ah? You're not a good gym buddy." Hongjoong chuckled. San just rolled his eyes, he couldn't care less.

"Well, I'm going to see my physiotherapist then sleep." San shrugged. Yunho pouted, he didn't want to go home yet but he knew his friends didn't have as much of a social battery as he did.

"I guess I'll go run restaurant errands and spend the rest of the day online." Yunho sighed.

"Get some sleep too, Yun." Mingi patted his best friend's shoulder.

"I will, don't worry." Yunho nodded. Once everyone exited out the back, Yunho locked up for the day. He headed to his car to begin his errand run.

The first place he went to was the kitchen supply shop, he wanted to check in on the equipment that he ordered for the kitchen like mixers and other tools so you and the others wouldn't have to use your own anymore. Yunho knew he needed to step up, be a good boss and restaurant owner.

"Yes, they are set for delivery on Wednesday." The worker checked the clipboard.

"Alright, I'll just pick up some other smaller stuff to take with me now." Yunho smiled. The worker nodded. Yunho tried to remember what were some stuff he seen the kitchen crew use.

"I think it was this..." He grabbed some glass mixing bowls and metal mixing bowls. Then he grabbed two sets of measuring cups and spoons.

"Excuse me, what is something you think a kitchen crew would need?" Yunho asked another worker.

"What do you already have?" He asked.

"I have no idea, actually..." Yunho rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. In the end, the worker recommended getting some cooking spoons, spatulas and different types of tongs.

"This is a good one?" He held up the tongs. The worker was confused by Yunho's question but nodded his head slowly.

"All these, please." Yunho placed the basket on the counter. He paid for everything and loaded the box of items into the boot of his car. Before closing the boot, he looked at the box with a proud smile, he hoped you would be happy with him for getting these.

"Next stop." Yunho keyed in the address and began his drive. It was a long and quiet drive but Yunho felt peaceful, he wasn't inclined to play any music.

As the car pulled up on the gravel road, he stopped at the side temporarily and quickly got out to buy some flowers.

"Thank you." Yunho bowed deeply as he went back to his car and continued on his way. When he finally reached his destination, he stopped and parked the car, walking up the hill.

"Halmeoni, I'm here." Yunho greeted, placing the flowers down.

"Sorry I haven't visited you, I've been trying to get the restaurant together. It has been a week since we've opened." He said.

"It's all thanks to you though, that all this is able to happen." He smiled sadly. Grabbing the handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped the smiling photo of his grandmother.

"I wish you were here to see it on your own." Tears welled up in his eyes. Yunho and his brother, Gunho, were raised mostly by their grandmother, with both parents too busy with their jobs. But being older, Yunho had a special bond with his grandmother. Even when they moved back with their parents, Yunho would always visit her.

Her death really affected him and it still does. He had never felt such agony and sadness before, like a part of his life was ripped away from him. His heart hurt, his person was gone forever.

"I miss you so much. I still do." Yunho whispered, tears slipping down his cheeks as he covered his eyes.

"Throughout the week, I found myself waiting for you to walk into the restaurant door. I want you to see the place and tell me what you think." He sobbed.

"There's this girl working for me now. She's the head chef and she's teaching me how to cook." He wiped his tears.

"You would be proud of me for learning and being able to help in the kitchen." He chuckled.

After staying for a while more, Yunho tore himself away and drove back home. The mental exhaustion was weighing on him. But as he drove, he saw someone familiar walking along the streets.

"(y/n)?" Yunho blinked, doing a double take. It was you. You were walking on your own.

"(y/n)!" Yunho stopped his car beside you and calling out to you through the window. You seemed deep in thought, jumping when you finally noticed him. You stopped and turned your head to see his brightly smiling face.

"Are you on your own?" Yunho asked after the both of you just stared in silence. You nodded your head.

"I'm heading home." You replied.

"Can I drop you off?" He offered. You seemed to hesitate for a while, a small frown appearing on your face as you contemplated his offer.

"It's cold and I don't have anything on now. Really, I'll just drop you off at yours. It's no trouble." Yunho said. You nodded again and entered the passenger seat.

"Put your address here." You keyed in your address into Yunho's GPS before buckling your seat belt and he began to drive.

"So, what were you up to?" Yunho broke the silence.

"Just errands." You replied, not giving anything away. You quietly studied Yunho as he drove. The redness around his eyes and on his nose were a sign that he just cried. You were slightly concerned, considering you've only ever seen him so positive. But you weren't going to question him. It was not your place to ask.

At the red light, when the car stopped, Yunho turned his head to steal secret glances at you. You were looking out the window with a distant look in your eyes.

"Are you alright?" Yunho asked.

"Yeah." You nodded with a hum but didn't make an effort to continue to the conversation.

Yunho figured that maybe he should not to speak further, maybe you just weren't in the mood for a conversation right now. So he quietly drove to your house, he didn't want to bother you.

"We're here." Yunho stopped the car. You shook your head to break your train of thought, looking up. Indeed, this was your home.

"Thanks, Yunho." You removed the seatbelt.

"No problem, (y/n). Anytime. See you tomorrow." Yunho smiled softly. You bowed your head and opened the door, walking into the building without looking back.

"I hope she's okay." Yunho sighed. He saw you as a friend and he hated the idea of any of his friends being upset. He pouted slightly at the thought. Momentarily, he had forgotten about the new kitchen stuff sitting in his boot, he could have showed it to you.

Yunho knew you were private. You were tight lipped and didn't give much about your private life away, only the surface stuff. But Yunho didn't want to push you into sharing, that would be mean.

"Hey, Hwa." You spotted the male sitting on your couch the moment you walked in.

"I saw your keys, you didn't drive?" Seonghwa stood up.

"No. But I bumped into Yunho on the way back, he gave me a lift." You informed, putting your shoes into the cabinet and hanging your coat on the coat rack.

"Are you okay?" Seonghwa asked, placing a hand on the top of your head. You leaned against him, putting your head against his chest.

"Tired." You murmured.

"Go lie down for a bit, maybe get some sleep." He stroked your back, speaking softly. You shuffled to the room and changed into comfier clothes. Seonghwa came in, sitting with you.

"I think I might have freaked Yunho out though. I was a little out of it so I wasn't exactly very talkative. But he was surprisingly respectful, he didn't question me further or try to make any more small talk. We just sat there in silence, a bit weird considering his usual, bright and cheery self." You chuckled.

"You might have worried him then. More than freaked him out." Seonghwa said with a soft smile. You rolled your eyes.

"He seems to worry a lot about the people around him." You noted. Seonghwa nodded in agreement.

"I guess that's why people like him, he's a good friend. He notices when things are wrong with others, he's nice and worries about them." Seonghwa shrugged.

"You sound like you have a crush on him." You teased. He rolled his eyes, slapping your leg.

"I'm craving french toast." You sat back up.

"I'll cook it for you." Seonghwa fussed.

"I'm fine, Hwa." You frowned and got up. Seonghwa followed you to your kitchen. French toast is easy to make, dipping the thick bread into the egg, sugar and milk mixture. You even made sour cherry sauce and smoked maple syrup to go with it.

"We can stuff ricotta inside." Seonghwa suggested. Your eyes lit up at the idea, you were never satisfied with just one variation of the dish, you could always make a few different variations.

"Darling, you have to open the window when using the smoking gun." Seonghwa laughed, coughing as he waved the smoke away.

"Oops." You giggled and went to open the windows to let the residual smoke out of the apartment.

"Think we can take the smoked maple syrup and flavour it into a whipped butter?" You asked, walking over to the fridge to take a block of butter out.

"Try it." He encouraged.

"Oh, it's good. We can definitely use it for some sort of dessert tomorrow." You said, tasting some off the tip of your finger. You lifted the bowl off the mixer and scraped it into a container.

"Yunho did say that he doesn't need the food to be fancy. We can make this dish for dessert during tomorrow night's dinner service. Stuffed ricotta french toast with smoked maple butter and sour cherry sauce." Seonghwa suggested. You nodded, it was a good idea and simple enough to prepare.

"Wooyoung would like this." You said as you cut into the french toast and took a bite.

"Call him and Jongho over then." Seonghwa suggested, leaning against the counter, opposite you to eat as well.

"I don't want to bother them... They deserve some time off to rest. You too, Hwa. You should rest or go do what you want to do." You looked at him.

"Please, you won't bother them. Wooyoung is obsessed with you and Jongho only ever opens up to you. And I am doing what I want to do, which is be here with you." Seonghwa smiled softly.

"Stop." You whined, cringing at how cheesy he was being.

"I'm just telling the truth, darling." Seonghwa continued to tease you.

"This is why I almost punched you when we were 8." You scoffed. Seonghwa knew you hated verbal affection, it was too cheesy so he always teased you by being verbally affectionate with you. That's why when you were 8, you almost punched him to stop him.

"I'm texting the group now. See if Wooyoung and Jongho are free to pop by." You rolled your eyes and took your phone to send a text in your group chat.

'FRENCH TOAST WITHOUT ME?! - Woo'

'Wow, I am so hurt right now... - Woo'

'I'm 15 minutes away. - Jong'

'Pick me up! - Woo'

'Drive yourself. - Jong'

"I've known you for so much longer and yet, you let Wooyoung smother you while you threaten me with violence." Seonghwa shot you a flat look.

"It's different with Woo. He is physically affectionate by nature. You use verbal affection to bother and tease me, knowing I hate it more than anything." You raised an eyebrow.

"But your reactions are funny and cute. I remember how I always tried to make you say 'i love you' to me, since we were kids." Seonghwa laughed, reaching out to pinch your cheek. You slapped his hand away, glaring at him. However, Seonghwa was one of the only people that got away with teasing you like this.

"And when was the last time I told you I loved you?" You questioned.

"When you did it to trick me then threw a snowball at me face." Seonghwa winced. He was so stunned by you suddenly saying 'i love you, Hwa' that he didn't notice you hurling a snowball at him.

"Exactly." You nodded. There was a knock on your door and you went over to open it for Wooyoung and Jongho.

"French toast!" Wooyoung came in, laying his weight on you in a hug as he snuggled against you.

"My name is not french toast." You said.

"But you're as sweet as french toast." He grinned, pecking your cheek. You sighed, reaching up to pat your back. You managed to give Jongho a small wave as he entered.

"Hey, (y/n). Thanks for the invite." He smiled. You smiled back, teetering over to the kitchen with Wooyoung glued to your front.

"Wooyoung, don't make her fall." Seonghwa frowned.

"I won't, hyung. If she falls, I'll catch her." He looked at you, winking. You faked a gag before peeling yourself away to go back to your food. While Jongho fixed himself a portion, Wooyoung peered over your shoulder, waiting for you to feed him.

"Make a portion yourself." Jongho rolled his eyes. You, however, gave in by cutting a piece of feed him.

"(y/n)'s the only person in this group who treats me nicely." He said as he chewed. You alternated, cutting a piece for yourself to eat then cutting a piece for Wooyoung.

"We made smoked maple butter. We think tomorrow's dinner service dessert should be this." You pointed to what was on your plates.

"Good idea. It's simple and we can pre stuff the ricotta into the bread." Jongho hummed.

"We will need to get brioche for tomorrow then. There's no way we're making that many loaves right now, it'll take too long with proofing time." Wooyoung said, shaking his head. Seonghwa agreed.

"Let's contact our old bread supplier then." You suggested and Seonghwa took his phone out to send the text.

"So it's been a week at the restaurant. How do you all feel?" You asked.

"I think it's been good. There's much to do but I surprisingly don't feel as stressed as I do in a bigger kitchen with more people. Plus, it helps that we're all used to each other's working styles and how we take on tasks. We work well with one another." Wooyoung said. The rest of you nodded, feeling the same way.

"The 5 of them are good to work with as well. They're all so curious about food and always ready to help in the kitchen even if they don't know what to do." Jongho added.

"Yes, they're all very nice and helpful. Their reactions to food is always amusing." You laughed.

"It definitely helps that we gel together as a team. There's no segregation between the kitchen and the front of the house." Seonghwa said.

"What about you, (y/n)?" Jongho asked.

"I agree. It's a good place to work, for sure. Like all of you said, the environment is good and the creative freedom is great." You nodded.

"You're just entertained by Yunho and his character." Seonghwa raised his eyebrows. You weren't denying that, Yunho's personality was unlike any other person you have met before.

"You make it sound like I treat him like a television show to watch. He's just so open to learning in the kitchen and tasting new food. And his reactions are so genuine. Introducing someone to foods is always fun, you guys know." You gestured to them.

"I still remember when I made Kyungmin his first steak." Wooyoung smiled at the memory.

~

Series masterlist

[nieceeee]

"DATE NIGHT"

P/S: "So how was the date" babydaddy!eren x reader once she makes it home from her night out.

W/C: 1388

A/N: Okay this is so fluffy and emotional, Rennie is such a freaking sweetheart and reader is a roller-coaster of emotions, y'all asked or part two so here we go! if I do a part 3 it may be from Eren's point of view and what happens when he makes it home to his girlfriend after staying all night at his baby mama's house...

today will definitely be a double drop day for all the love because we love sweet Rennie but daddy Rennie is a whole different vibe!

also I usually write from first person POV so if you see and I or ME that's what that is, let me know if y'all care about that and if y'all want to read in that POV.

Previous Fic: Let Me Help

Part One: Its Better This Way

All throughout the night, you try your best to focus on the man sitting in front of you but you mind refuses to think about anything other than the father of your child. You hope that the nice man who invited you to dinner wouldn't notice the way your eyes shifted. The way you lose interest in the fact that his eyes weren’t that emerald green you loved so much. “So yes, what about you?” his voice cut in. Your eyes widened slightly as you registered the question. “Oh, I’m just testing the waters on life.” you responded smoothly. He smiled and continued talking, unaware of your lack of interest. 

“Thank you again for tonight. It was very nice.” you muster the strength to say to your date as he walks you to your car. “You’re welcome. Hopefully, we can get together again some time.” He questions hopefully. Not likely you think to yourself but you smile anyway. “One day.” You shrug slightly. He opens the driver side door for you and allows you to step inside. “Goodnight.” you say unable to bring yourself to give him a gentle peck on the cheek of appreciation or even a simple hug. Thankfully he doesn't press the matter, simply providing you a small nod  of gratitude as he steps out of your way. You  pull out of the parking lot and turn onto the road.

 “Hey Siri, call Rennie.” you say as you pull up to a red light. He picks up on the second ring. “Yeah?” His sleepy voice vibrates through the speaker of the phone sending an unnecessary chill down your spine. You clear your throat slightly, hoping to relieve the tension. “I’m headed home. You still there?” you ask. You try your best to mask the hopefulness in your voice as you ask the question. “Yeah, I’m here. Just got little man down and I guess I dozed off with him.” He answered quietly. A small smile tugged at your lips as the image popped into your head. “Okay be there soon.” A little cry sounded in the background. “I think he heard your voice.” Eren said, chuckling softly. You hear him shuffling to standing and the gentle hitch in his breath as he leans down to pick up your child. “It’s okay little man. Daddy’s got you. Mommy will be home soon.” He whispered to him. “I’ll be there in 10.” you say before disconnecting the call. You rush as fast as you can back to your apartment. 

Turning into the driveway, you cut the engine and locked your doors. Your mother’s car wasn’t here anymore. You quickly make your way to the front door, unlocking it and stepping inside. Quietly shutting it behind you and making sure it was locked, you clack your way up the steps to your bedroom. The nursery door is open when you get up there. You peek in to see Eren slowly rocking your son, smiling down at him. Your heart lurches slightly in your chest at the sight. You take a slow step back to collect yourself but he looks up and sees you, those eyes you had been dreaming about on your date meeting yours, before you could turn around and go to your room. “Hey.” He smiles. “Hi. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your quality time.” you say. “All good. I was just laying him back down. You need to go get changed and everything? I don't mind waiting on you to finish up.” He offers. He leans over and places your child gently back into his crib. “Yeah, I won't be long.” you say. He follows you into your room, closing the door gently behind him. 

“So how was the date?’ He asks leaning against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest. Two pulses shoot down through your core but you shift your eyes away slowly. You plop down on the bed in a huff. “That good, huh?” He teases, walking over to kneel in front of you. The image of him on his knees before you bringing up long lost memories as you swallow hard. You take a slow breath to focus on the current moment. “You don’t have to do that.” you say softly. “Yeah, I know.” He responds. His warm hands wrap around your ankle as he carefully slips your heels off, placing them down by the foot of the bed. Then he gently holds your foot in his hand, massaging the swollen parts. You sigh quietly at the relief of his fingers working into the aches of your arches. He carefully rubbed the knots from both feet before releasing you. “Thank you.” you whisper. A gentle smile tugs at his lips. “Go, take a bath, get changed. I’ll be here when you get out.” He says standing back up and going back to the nursery.

You grab some clothes and make your way into the bathroom, trying not to think too much about what just happened, the warmth of his hands still lingering against your skin as you turn the water on and step inside. After you have cleaned yourself up and done your nighttime routine, you walk back towards your bedroom. He is sitting on the bed, your child in his arms waiting patiently. “He must be hungry.” you say walking to the bed. Eren stands as you toss the covers aside and scoot onto the mattress. You prop yourself up against the pillows and Eren hands you your nursing pillow. You press it into place and Eren reaches down and lays your child on top. He turns away towards the wall to allow you to unsnap your bra and let c/n latch. 

“All good.” You clear your throat, alerting him to turn back and face you. “So, the date?” He asks again, taking that same spot in front of you on the bed. “I don't know. I mean he seemed nice but…” you pause, not able to tell him that the real reason you couldn't enjoy your date was that he was on your mind the entire time. “I just don't think I’m ready. Not now anyway.” you say shifting your gaze down to the bundle you held in your arm. “Understandable.” he reaches over and gives your knee a gentle squeeze. “It will happen in time. Don’t rush yourself. But also, give yourself grace. It’s okay to get back out there.” He encourages you. Your chest tightens with emotions but you mask it with a soft smile. You both sit in each other's company, the soft fan and the suckling of a child the only noises being made.

After c/n is done feeding, you burp and change him and Eren lays him back down in the crib. He places a gentle kiss to his forehead before whispering something slightly to him.  You stand at the doorway, waiting to walk him out.  You both walk to the living room in silence but he pauses at the door. “Babydoll...” he calls softly. “Yeah?" Eren turns to you, a longing glossy look in his eyes. Your heartbeat speeds up and a lump forms in your throat. “Do you think?” he pauses, trying to figure out if he should ask but he chooses to push through the anxiousness. “Do you think one day this would have worked?” He asks. You are at a loss for words. You hadn’t really discussed how things ended with you since that day you left him standing in the mall with her. “E, I-..” You didn't know how to respond. He drops his head slowly and a sharp pain hits your chest. “I get it.” He responds, voice barely above a whisper. You open your mouth to speak again but he simply pulls you into a hug. You rest your head against his chest, finding solace in his warmth and steadiness in the rhythm of his heartbeat. After what felt like seconds, he reluctantly pulls back and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Ren…” you start. “Goodnight my sweet babydoll.” He whispers before turning and walking out the door. You lock the door behind him before leaning back against it. You don't realize the tears are falling until you feel your butt hitting the floor and drops sliding from your face down to your arms.

[yujeong]

Pete's fever wasn't going down. It wasn't really Pete's fault. He had started eating more regularly, even if slowly to not upset his stomach. (He didn't want to vomit his insides all over the duvet again. It hadn't been a pleasant experience.) He had started sleeping more, too, and even though it had mostly been accompanied by disturbing dreams and could be described as anything but nourishing, at least it was something. This wasn't really Vegas' fault, either. Well. It was. It was difficult to explain, and Pete didn't quite have the mental capacity or the patience to make Vegas understand why he hadn't magically healed in a day thanks to a bowl of noodles, a couple of pills and some bandages wrapped around his torso. In all honesty, that was a lie. Despite Pete's reluctance to admit it, he had been way more patient that he should have. More than he could sustain. Today, his patience seemed to be at its limit. Pete didn't let it show - he never did, he couldn't afford to, not even now - but he could feel it brewing under his skin. The urge to snap at an anxious Vegas hovering above him with blood-shot eyes and trembling limbs was big and tempting, but Pete knew better than to succumb to it. He simply closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose, trying to forget about it. Vegas, of course, wouldn't allow that. "Pete," he heard Vegas whisper. When he didn't respond, Vegas said it again, louder. "Pete. Hey, look at me." Pete did. "Do you not hate me?" Pete didn't answer. "Don't you want to kill me?" Pete sighed. He refused. H wouldn't give Vegas the satisfaction. "How would you do it?" This was starting to get irritating. "Vegas-" "Tell me, Pete. What would you do? Would you use your hands or a weapon?" Pete couldn't escape this. He realized when he looked at the pure desperation in Vegas' eyes. "I'm a bodyguard, aren't I?" he foolishly said, his voice breaking slightly. He lifted his head and stared at the ceiling. He could picture it; him wearing his uniform, blowing Vegas' brains out with his gun. The image brought him no satisfaction. Only a faint sense of dread he couldn't rationalize. Vegas' humming snapped him out of it. "Yes, I can see that. I can't imagine you using a knife, though." Pete felt slightly offended by that comment for some reason. "Why? Don't you think I have the guts?" "It's too... emotional a choice for you. You wouldn't use it to kill me." Right. Pete huffed in amusement. "I guess you're right. I'm not like you." This did the trick. Pete could feel the effect of his words, the hostility Vegas was emitting. It gave him goosebumps, despite the temperature of the room. The sound of the door closing harshly made him flinch, a racing heartbeat remaining for a while afterwards. It didn't bother him. He was finally left alone. It didn't matter if he'd manage to get better or not. If only Vegas could see that.

(A snippet inspired by a scene in the movie "Eileen")

[corazondebeskar-reads]

I'll take care of you

dark!Din Djarin x gn!reader

originally for Febuwhump 2024 Day 1 - helpless | Febuwhump masterlist

words: 882

summary: Din takes care of you after a head injury leaves you helpless.

warnings: dark, dark!Din, gaslighting, graphic descriptions of injury, restraints, manipulation, violence, no y/n, reader has hair of unspecified length and no other description

dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s blurry. Everything, that is. You try to reach to rub your eyes, but the cuff jerks you still. 

Same shit, different day. You wish you’d start remembering faster when you wake up. 

The mornings you do wake up, that is. 

You know you’re missing days. It’s hard, with how the room spins, to keep track of anything. 

“Good morning, cyar’ika. How do you feel?” says the smooth baritone, like fresh caramel dripping onto a sundae. It’s a warm comfort.

Until it grows cold and hardens, that is. His hand shoots out and grips your jaw. “What have I said about answering me when I speak to you?” 

He’s quick to anger today. So you’ll likely be bed-bound again. 

“Sorry, cyare,” you mumble. Using the pet name placates him, and his hand relaxes but doesn’t leave you, gloved thumb brushing your bottom lip. 

You don’t even know if he’s flesh and bone. His cock would lead you to believe so, but the rest of him is cold metal, and they make good synthetics nowadays. 

You don’t want to ask. It’s something you’re sure you should know, and sometimes, the things you’ve forgotten upset him. You guess you’d be upset, too, if your spouse forgot you. 

“It’s okay. I know it’s hard when you’re still all scrambled.” He moves like he’s going to ruffle your hair, but all you feel is the grinding, bruising pain as his hand grips and jostles your head. 

He’s rustling with the restraints, and you try to tamp down any and all emotion. He says it’s okay, that it’s normal for you to have intense feelings, all things considered. 

But sometimes you seem to have the wrong feeling, and he doesn’t like that very much. 

Once your wrists are unhooked, he helps you to stand on trembling legs. Walking makes you so dizzy, so he always makes sure he can support you. 

That’s one thing you can’t deny despite the pain and forgetfulness. He’s so attentive while you’re helpless. He never leaves you to struggle. It’s obvious he’s a good husband—maybe even the romantic type, doting and considerate. 

He lets you use the fresher by yourself but helps you stand up and settle the tunic back down around your body. It’s the only clothing you have on. Other than thick wool socks with rubber grips, that is. He says it’s not safe to walk without them. 

You’re sad to be led back to bed, and it must show. 

“How about I stay for a while, and you can have a break from the cuffs?” he offers. 

It works, and you brighten up a little. “Thank you, Din.”

He still makes you sit in bed, but you can hardly be cross. He’s sitting with you and keeping you safe. 

After all, that’s how you got hurt in the first place, he said. Falling off the bed like a silly little thing and cracking your head. 

Your dreams recall it quite differently. When you do dream, he’s there too. But he’s bigger. Scarier. And so angry. So, so angry. 

You always wake up before your head collides with the wall. 

Here, in the waking world, he holds you against his cold steel body. You’re inclined again to think he’s flesh underneath as warmth radiates from the leather and duraweave between the plates. He’s reading to you softly from a datapad since it still makes your head hurt when you try.

Which means he’s right there against you when it happens. You sit up, clutching your forehead. 

“What’s wrong?” he says.

“I don’t know,” you say through a dry, tacky mouth. Your head is pounding, and when you look at him, so is your heart. Not with love, that is, but with terror.

It must be written across your face because he stiffens.

“Who are you?” you whisper.

“Cyar’ika,” he says carefully, raising both hands as if he means no harm. “You had an accident. You’ve had a severe head injury. Your memories keep coming and going.”

You’ve heard this before. You don’t believe him this time.

“You know me. I’m your husband, Din.”

You shake your head, wincing. “I want the truth.” Because what’s undeniable now is that it wasn’t a dream. This bulking beast of a man had cornered you in an alley behind the cantina after your shift. 

He sighs, but there’s a new placating lilt to his voice when he responds. “Fine,” he murmurs, standing up. He comes around the bed and you back into the wall. Trapped. 

“You want the truth?” he says, voice low and sultry. Smug. His hand comes up to brush your cheek. “You need me, cyar’ika. You were out there all alone and scared. No one to care for you. No one to protect you.”

“You kidnapped me.”

“Hardly,” he scoffs. “You’ve always been mine. You just didn’t know it. But now that we’re together…”

He reaches into the many pouches around his waist and surfaces with a small syringe, the overhead light glinting off the needle’s shiny point. 

“We can do this one of two ways, cyar’ika. You can be good and do as I say. Or,” and he wiggles the needle in the air. “I can make sure you’re good. Either way, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

[stargazedwinchester]

Angel Girl | Dean

Summary: Dean learns you're not human, but an angel.

Requested here! Thank you! Let me know if you want a part 2! Felt like I could write this forever but obvs had to end it at some point lmaoo

Word count: 1,299

Taglist: @rowenalovee @amythedoctor @girlsforpjm @chaospossum @take-it-on-the-run, @themidnightwitch44 @linkthetrashgoblin

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

Dean's love life has always been rocky, from casual dating to raunchy hookups with the girls he finds at the local bar and waking up the next day simultaneously enjoying and regretting his life choices. He's never settled for anyone and the relationships he's had over the years have almost always ended on the wrong foot.

Until he met you.

Castiel had introduced you both whilst Cas had made an excuse of hearing your prayer over an issue that made him realise you're not quite the person that needed help, of course, because you were different.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

Dean wakes up in a cold sweat, his heart beating 100 times a second. His eyes scan the room to ensure he's awake and not in a dream state. He takes a deep breath, before propping himself up in bed, looking over at his bedside table and checking the time. 5:24 AM. "God damn it," He sighs, placing his head in his hands, hunching over. He rubs his stubble to try and wake himself up. His fern-coloured orbs meet with the ceiling. 

"God, just give me a break." He whispers, resting his forearm across his eyes. "Please let me sleep." He huffs, attempting to relax before sleeping again. The sound of large wings echoes the room, and Dean refuses to move his arm. "Cas, get out." He shoos, waving his spare hand.

"Hello." A sweet voice appears, making Dean jump out of his skin. He reaches for his gun and points it at the figure standing at his door. Fear takes over his face, his eyes enlarged and his mouth slightly agape. 

"Y/N?" He asks, his face reading multiple different emotions. "How did you get here?" He stumbles, his thought process is jumbled right now. His gorgeous eyes meet yours, then you look down at the floor. 

"I heard your prayer."

"M-my prayer?" He lays his gun flat on the bed, his gaze unable to move away from you. You nod.

"It's universal... You pray to God and angels can answer." You smile at him, yet he remains confused. "Y/N, you're an angel?" He questions, gradually getting up from the mattress. You assume that he already knew, maybe Cas had told him prior but Dean chose to not say anything about it. The surprise from Dean surprises you. "You didn't know?" You say softly, and Dean shakes his head. "I thought Cas would have told you, but that's okay. I guess there's much to talk about." You chuckle lightly. "Yeah, we do."

You tell Dean that you'll be back the following day to answer all of his questions, and allow him to return to bed so he can go back to sleep.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

You arrive at the bunker, the early morning Kansas sun beaming down onto the back of your head as you let yourself in. You walk down the stairs and meet Dean in the kitchen who's cooking up breakfast for himself. "Hey Dean," You greet, showing him a friendly smile. You stand next to the counter as he turns around and faces you. "Hey Y/N. You didn't zap in today?" He asks, scraping scrambled eggs and bacon onto two plates. "No, I wanted to seem more... normal. Human, I guess. Did it work?" You ask, a gleam in your eyes. "Yeah, I'd say so." He starts, reaching over to the drawer where the cutlery is kept. He passes you a plate, a knife and a fork. "Y'know, I was thinking last night..." He says, leading you over to the dining table. "I want to show you how to act more human. So..." He slides the plate in front of you, the steam travelling up toward your face, the smell engulfing you.

"I thought we could start with you trying food. Here," He passes you the cutlery in the correct hands. "Dig in." He finishes, piling his breakfast onto his fork and bringing it to his mouth. You attempt to do the same, but much slower. You bring it up to your mouth, allowing the food to sit there in your mouth for a few seconds. You swallow, Dean watching your every move. "See? Not so bad is it?" He chuckles lightly, and you smile at him. "No, it's quite enjoyable. The flavours are quite foreign." You say, lifting another forkful. 

You have both finished your breakfast, Dean's crack at trying to help you has definitely helped, but he's not done yet. He suggests that you both take a night to yourselves to catch you up on the most iconic movies. 

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

"I had an idea of watching a chick flick for tonight," He almost shivers at the idea. "Just this once. Then we can watch Star Wars." He says, and you laugh at him. "Dean Winchester watching a movie made specifically for teenagers... I never thought I'd see the day." You chuckle, and he smirks at your quick comment. "Hey, there's nothing wrong with a chick flick every so often." He admits, switching the TV over to something very close to Netflix, but is borderline illegal. Upon choosing Wild Child, you both sit back, remaining quiet throughout the whole movie.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

The movie finishes, and you glance over to Dean, who's sound asleep sitting up, his arms are crossed and one leg is resting over the other. Despite being an angel, you can't help but feel something warm and fuzzy ignite in your chest, a feeling of adoration and... something else you can't quite put your finger on. He shuffles, and you nudge his arm gently. "Dean," You whisper, trying to not startle him. He groans, his eyes flickering. "Dean, the movie has finished." You shake him again, and he rapidly sits up properly. "I'm awake." Dean rubs his eyes, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He stretches, his arms above his head. His t-shirt rides up a little, and you can't help but glare. He rests one arm above his head, and the other beside you on the sofa. 

Dean reaches for the TV remote and searches for one of the many Star Wars movies. "So, how'd you like that one?" He asks with his gaze upon you. You nod. "It was good. I can see why it's so popular." You smile, a gentle look on your face. He grins at you, nodding his head. "Can't say I've seen it many times myself," He clears his throat, searching for 'The Empire Strikes Back'. "Dean, I know when you're lying." You add, scanning his face. "What? No I'm not," He chuckles nervously, avoiding any eye contact with you. "Yes you are, I can feel it. Your weird behaviour is offputting."

"Offputting? That's rude." He jokes and the movie auto-plays. The intro to the movie startles you, and Dean laughs at you. "That's really loud." You huff, and Dean relaxes an arm around your shoulders. "It's okay. That's the only loud part of the movie." He adds, shuffling closer to you. "Now, this is one of the best Star Wars movies they've ever made," He starts, and you allow him to ramble about the context of the movie and which actor plays what character. You sit and stare at him whilst he has his rant, his passion for something has really intrigued you like no other.

Everyone will always have a say about supernatural beings and how they differ from humans, how the stereotype that angels are typically full of wisdom and forgiveness. But for you, wisdom is the need to know the true forms of the Winchester brothers, especially Dean. Something about him and the need to aid other people except himself has always bewildered you. 

Hoping that this will help you bring him closer to you, you'd just about do anything for that to happen.

[forkloverr]

Hi! <3

I saw your Jim headcanons in time of crisis, and boy i’m glad! They were very nice and i loved them. I’m kinda having a bit of a bad day, the usual, so…

I wanted to kinda request some headcanons (or one-shot, whatever works for you) of Jim Hawkins with a sad gn! (or fem if you’d prefer that) reader. Just they’re very emotional, crying some, watching sad childhood movie scenes (cough Married Life from Up cough) and just needing some comfort and reassurance.

So sorry to bother, i wasn’t totally sure if your requests are open so i wanted to give it a shot, no pressure to write this whatsoever! You could literally just write something soft for Jim and i would be over the moon. Remember to take care of yourself first! <3

hello love! thank you so much, i'm so sorry you're having a bad day :( and don't worry! i love getting requests <3 i hope this is alright, i adore this idea, thank you 🤍 (take care as well!!)

What. A. Disaster. Not only are the skies filled with an unpleasant and dreary forecast, but you totally failed today's test at the Academy. Everything this past week--no- month has gone wrong. Unbearable sadness and stress have been building up inside you- with no outlet to escape. You can barely think a coherent thought. All that occupies your mind is the burning question: "when will it get better?" As you trudge through the squishy, muddy, path home, an idea strikes you. If you had one wish in the world, it would be to go back to being a kid. No responsibilities, besides chores of course. No anxiety, no sadness, just glee and bliss. (or so your mind believes) One way to live that dream is to re-watch your favorite childhood classics. Yes- that's it! That'll cheer you up for sure, who doesn't love those movies? Maybe this day would take a turn for the better. You enter your shared apartment, making sure not to bring in mud on the fresh floor. Tossing your bag on the floor, you make your way to the shower. The LAST thing you want is to catch a cold. The warm water wraps around you like a big toasty hug, giving you at least a couple minutes of serenity. But as soon as you step out, the only warmth is the steam on your mirror. And the sadness returns. After drying your hair, you slip into your precious comfy pajamas and make your way to your bedroom. Your covers greet your body, and you're ready to relax and reopen memories that haven't resurfaced in years. You decide to put on "Upward," (wink wink) you remember watching this movie every night as a kid. A perfect pick. Everything was fine, your body was melted into the mattress, the lights were off, soft pillows surrounding you, until that scene came on. Oh. What you didn't remember is just how heartbreaking this movie actually is. Your sugarcoated nostalgia charmed you to pick a movie you thought would make you feel better, which in turn, made you feel worse. So. So. So much worse. The screen became blurry, blocked out by the tears swelling in your eyes. That was your breaking point. All of the sorrow and pain built up comes rushing out, a neverending collection of tears stroking your face. Hiccups, sobs, and whimpers escape your lips, and the sadness completely swallows you up. That is, until your loving boyfriend, Jim, opens your door. "Hey star, just wanted to let you know I'm home." He gently speaks, peering through the small crack in the door. All he hears is the soft hum of a movie, and... sobs? "Star?? Are you alright?" His voice now has a tone of concern. He enters the dim room, eyes trailing up to your crying figure. "oh..." Jim rushes to your side, slipping under the covers with you. You lean your head on him, only wanting to be held by him. He holds your body like you're porcelain, caressing you as you cry into his arms. "Do you... want to talk about it?" He softly whispers into your ear. The only response he gets is a choked-back sob. "I'm guessing not. That's ok, you don't have to talk." He pauses. "I'm here for you, I always will be. I know what abandonment feels like, and I want you to know whatever you're going through, I'll always be by your side." Your dry yet also tear-stained eyes look up and meet his loving eyes, then you cry even harder because he's just amazing, more than you could ever ask for. You cling to his shirt, afraid if you let go he'll fade away, like a dream gone too soon. Jim rubs his hand along your back, tracing shapes and patterns in an attempt to soothe you. (spoiler alert: it's working) You swallow dryly as the sobs finally stop, finally feeling that sleepy sensation you get after a good cry. The calm after the storm. You snuggle your head into his chest, collecting the warmth radiating from him. Before you can thank Jim, or even actually say a word, your eyes heavily close, and your breaths mirror the beginning of sleep. Jim notices this shift, and chuckles softly. "Even stuffy and red, you're still my beautiful star.." --☆--☆--☆--☆--☆--☆--☆--☆--☆--☆--☆--

[nahoney22]

Holding On (Part 2/2)

Hunter X F!Reader

Weeks after your rescue, things seem to be looking up for you. Though Hunters feelings remain the same, how can he express how he truly feels?

warnings: hurt/comfort trope, reader suffers from nightmares, panic attacks, mentions of needles and injections. Very emotional reader. Lots of comfort. Mutual pining. First kiss. Female reader.

Authors note: I completely forgot I was to do a part 2 to this. Sorry for the wait. Queued Post.

Part One | Part Two

You awaken to the gentle hum of the ship, blinking away the sleep from your eyes. As your vision clears, you notice Echo sitting across the room, head slightly bowed, soft snores escaping his lips. A warm smile spreads across your face at the sight.

You speak softly, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of the moment. "Echo, hey." He stirs at the sound of your voice, lifting his head and meeting your gaze with a gentle smile.

"Hey," he responds, stepping closer to you. "How are you feeling today?"

It's a question you've grown accustomed to from the whole team, and despite the lingering challenges, you find yourself improving each day. "Good," you reply softly, sitting up and crossing your legs on the bed. "And how about you?"

Echo chuckles and shrugs, his eyes reflecting a mixture of weariness and determination. "Same as usual." He retrieves a scanner, checking your vitals with practiced ease. "Listen, last night you had a nightmare."

You sigh, the memory of the unsettling dreams still lingering in your mind. "Yeah... they've been happening quite frequently."

Sympathy shines in Echo's eyes as he finishes the scan, confirming that everything appears fine. He takes a seat beside you. "Hunter was here and saw you tossing and turning. He asked me to stay until you woke up."

A pang of embarrassment tugs at your heart, realising that Hunter had witnessed your vulnerability even in your sleep. "I'm sorry he had to see that," you admit, cheeks flushing with a mix of gratitude and embarrassment.

Echo's gaze softens as he nods in understanding. "Yeah, nightmares were a constant companion to me for a while. Still have them occasionally. It's... something we've all been through in one way or another."

You find solace in his words, knowing that you're not alone in this struggle. "I guess it's just part of the journey, huh? The memories and the pain find their way back, even when we try to move forward."

Echo's hand rests reassuringly on your shoulder. "It's okay to feel overwhelmed. Healing takes time, and it's different for everyone. But we're here for you, every step of the way."

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, appreciating the support from Echo and the rest of the team. "Thank you, Echo. You've all been so kind to me."

He offers a warm smile in return. "Of course, we care about you. You're part of the squad, part of our family."

The word "family" resonates deeply within you, reminding you of the connection you shared with them all. Despite the hardships and the nightmares, you're grateful to have found a place where you belong. Finally.

"Morning. Can I get you a drink or anything?" You look up as you hear a voice from the hallway, and your heart flutters at the sight of Hunter approaching. Echo takes his cue and gives you a final pat on the shoulder before leaving just the two of you.

"I'm alright for now, thanks," you reply, grateful for his offer, and pat the spot beside you.

Smiling, Hunter takes a seat, his fingers strumming somewhat anxiously against his leg. He still hasn't addressed your confession of love from a while ago, uncertain of when the right time and day would be. With the nightmares plaguing your mind in recent weeks, he feels that bringing it up now would only add to the tension.

"Echo tells me you saw me have another nightmare," you speak up, sensing the sudden thickening of the air. "I understand why you didn't want to stay and watch."

Turning his head to look at you, Hunter's eyes shimmer with reassurance. "I didn't want to leave, I just... I know Echo is more familiar with dealing with this type of stuff, and I wasn't sure what to do. I should've stayed."

"I would've been fine either way, don't worry," you whisper, gently placing a hand on his forearm. A warmth flows between you both, and although you're unsure if he feels it too, he lets out a somewhat breathless exhale before clearing his throat.

"We, uh, we're going to be landing on Coruscant in a few hours. Maybe it'll do you some good to get out for a while?" Hunter suggests, but a sudden wave of panic washes over you.

Your eyes widen, and you instinctively shake your head. The memories of being captured and taken by the Empire on a busy planet flood your mind, leaving you feeling vulnerable and unsafe. The Marauder has become your sanctuary, a place of solace and security.

"N-no, no, I can't," you stammer, a wave of unease washing over you, making your skin prickle as if an itch you couldn't scratch.

Hunter's voice is calm and reassuring as he wraps his arm around your shoulder. "Hey, it's going to be alright. I'm right here with you," he says, his presence providing a sense of comfort. "You won't leave my sight. Crosshair will be with us too, on high alert, ready to spot anything suspicious." He tries his best to offer reassurance, but your body begins to tremble, and tears well up in your eyes.

"Not yet. Please... I'm not ready," you plead, your voice filled with fear and vulnerability.

"Okay," Hunter says softly, his touch comforting as he rubs soothing circles on your back. "You can stay on the ship then. I'll stay with you, and we can have one of the others stay too," he suggests, understanding your fear and offering a solution. You nod, quickly wiping away the tears that trickled down your cheeks, trying to steady your panicked breathing.

“Sorry, it's just..." you trail off, finding it difficult to put your feelings into words. But Hunter understands, and he gently pulls you closer until you can rest your head against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat provides a calming reassurance, especially as he tenderly runs his fingers through your hair. "Maybe another time,"

There was no denying the nervousness that gripped you as the team landed on Coruscant, even though you chose to stay on the ship. Memories of that traumatic incident flooded your mind, causing your heart to race in your chest, despite being shielded by two of the bravest soldiers you knew.

You're in the cockpit, keeping a watchful gaze through the windshield when you hear hushed whispers coming from the hull. Your curiosity piqued, you turn your attention towards the source and see Hunter and Crosshair engaged in an intense conversation. However, when your eyes meet Hunter's, you notice that his smile, though meant to be reassuring, doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"What's going on?" you ask, voicing the question that lingers in your mind.

Crosshair turns his gaze to you, his expression as stern as ever, as he holds up a stim pack. "Tech's orders," he explains, his voice carrying a tight tone.

A sudden wave of nausea washes over you, triggering haunting images of the torment inflicted by the IS-O droid. Your mouth goes dry, and before you know it, Hunter is rushing to your side, his presence a comforting anchor. "It'll be over in a second," he assures you, his voice laced with concern.

Crosshair approaches cautiously, standing beside you and placing a calming hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry, doll. I'm not as clumsy as Wrecker," he remarks, trying to infuse some levity into the situation. However, despite his attempt at humor, you can't find it in you to laugh.

Gently, Crosshair rolls up the sleeve to your arm and you do your best to hold your nerve and look away but your eyes deceive you and instantly fall to the right where the stim was being raised, needle pointy. The sight of it made you recoil and push the boys away from you.

“No, I’m not doing it.” You rasp, tears stinging your eyes once more. “I’m not ready.”

“Cyare, Tech says it’s imperative you take this stimulant.” Hunter explains, holding his hands up as if to ease a wild creature. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Hunter,” you whimper, shaking your head, “I-I can’t!”

Crosshair remains quiet, watching you closely but his eyes are soft at seeing you so anguished.

"Hey, shhh, hey, it's okay." Hunter's soothing voice brings a momentary calmness as he gently cups your cheeks, his touch grounding you. Your ragged breaths begin to steady as he draws closer.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, the fear of the injection momentarily fades as Hunter presses his forehead against yours, cooing softly and caressing your skin with his thumbs. "That's it, you're okay," he murmurs, his presence offering a sense of security.

Your eyes flutter closed, unaware of Crosshair's approach as he seizes the opportunity to administer the injection while you're in this state of calm.

"Hunter," you rasp, feeling a gentle hold on your arm, the fear starting to creep back into your consciousness.

"Just focus on me. You're doing so well. So, so well," Hunter encourages, tilting his head slightly, his breath brushing against your lips. In this tender moment, you're overwhelmed with the urge to lean closer and kiss him. But instead, the truth spills from your lips in a burst of honesty.

"I love you."

There's a suspended pause in the air, your eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of his response. You couldn't help but reveal your true feelings. He meant everything to you.

"I love you most, darling," Hunter replies, his words filling your heart with warmth and relief.

When you open your eyes, you notice that Crosshair had discreetly stepped away, and there's a subtle sting in your arm. Huh, guess he was gentle handed.

Crosshair had left with a small smirk, leaving you feeling a mix of flustered and curious. "I... sorry, I don't know why I said that," you stumble over your words, trying to steady your breathing while your heart races with the weight of your admission.

Hunter hums, a knowing expression on his face that tells you he's not entirely convinced by your apology. "Is that why you've said it twice now?" he asks, tilting his head to the side, his eyes searching yours.

Your eyes widen in surprise, your brows furrowing as you try to recall the first night you were rescued. "Twice?" you repeat, your mind racing to piece together the memories.

"Yeah," Hunter confirms softly, his hand moving from your cheek to your arm, soothing the sting from the stim. "A few nights after we rescued you, you were half asleep and it slipped out that you loved me." He holds his breath, hoping beyond hope that your feelings were genuine as he gathers the courage to ask, "Do you?"

You blink up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Do you?" you ask in return, suddenly remembering that he had just declared his love for you. In front of Crosshair of all people.

"Of course. A lot," he replies, his words filled with sincerity and affection. The warmth that spreads through your chest reassures you that your feelings are reciprocated.

A gentle silence fills the air as the weight of your shared feelings hangs between you. In that moment, the galaxy seems to fade away. All the pain and suffering no longer seemed to matter.

Unable to resist the magnetic pull any longer, Hunter leans in, closing the remaining distance. His lips brush against yours, soft and tender, as if afraid to disturb the fragile beauty of the moment. “I’m going to look after you. I’m going to love you, forever.” He utters against you and you melt into his embrace.

Your heart is soaring with joy, knowing that he was going to be true to his word. It will still take a while to heal, but you knew Hunter would not mind healing with you.

Part One | Part Two

Masterlist

More Hunter Works

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex x @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @imalovernotahater @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @the-good-shittt @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder r @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @fantasyproductions @by-the-primes @the-bad-batch-baroness

[corrodedseraphine]

hellfire heart | one shot

this amazing edit of Eddie which i used here was made by wonderful @sofiiel

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

story based on a request by a lovely anon: could i request rockstar eddie who is a bit of an asshole, loves a drink etc? maybe something angsty! angst with half happy ending I guess?, established relationship, breaking up, modern!AU

4 310 words

the one shot is also avaliable on ao3

I was going to write this much later, but life sucks and my mood today is some kind of unfunny joke, so this request was the perfect opportunity to unload all my negative emotions in this angsty work!

Dear anon, thank you very much for your request, I hope you will not be disappointed. (I wrote the song myself, it's okay if you don't like this, you can pretend it is any other song yopu like!)

eddie munson masterlist | general masterlist

"I thought that when you come to Hawkins for a break we would organize a little campaign for the boys? They miss you so much." You lay cuddled up against Eddie's chest, who was browsing something on his phone.

"Yeah, about that." he said, turning toward you for the first time in twenty minutes. "I'm not coming to Hawkins."

"What?" you rose quickly. What did he mean he wasn't coming back? The breaks between tours were the only longer time you could spend together. Besides, you saw each other once a month when you visited him on tour.

"Babe, there are so many better things than playing some stupid game, so many parties we can go to, so many crazy things we can do." he replied, sitting down on the bed. "Being stuck for couple of months in Hawkins is not fun."

"But what about the kids? What about Wayne? Don't you miss them?"

"I miss them, but I guess if I don't come once, nothing bad will happen, right?"

"Since when is D&D just a stupid game to you?" you asked. Never in your life would you have said you would hear those words from his mouth.

"Honey, look at me, I am not that Eddie anymore. I am not a loser or freak, I am a fucking rockstar. People love me, I have fans all over the world I have everything I ever wanted. I am better, my life is better now." he said grabbing your hands. "Now I'm going to go to rehearsal, later I'll come back and we'll have dinner together, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, have fun." you replied weakly. Eddie quickly smacked you on the lips and left the apartment.

Being left alone with your thoughts was not good, as those thoughts began to wander into darker and darker corners of your brain. You loved Eddie and were happy like no one else that his dreams were coming true however, you slowly stopped liking the kind of man he was becoming. What didn't escape your attention was his sense of superiority. Suddenly everyone who wasn't recognized and famous, those who didn't participate in crazy parties whose motto was sex drugs and rock and roll, were suddenly worse. More and more, you could see the arrogance in him. At the beginning of his fame, he looked forward to visits home. He loved the hours spent campaigning, the fishing trips with Wayne, or the pleasant evenings at campfires where he played guitar and the rest of your little crazy family was singing. He kept saying that these were his favorite moments. What happened that suddenly they were no longer like that?

Eddie didn't show up for dinner. After three hours of waiting, you extinguished the candles you had lit, put the already cold food in the refrigerator, and took the wine that was supposed to be for both of you to the couch and poured it into a glass. You weren't even surprised that he didn't come back on time as he promised. Lately he had less and less time for you. Day by day there were fewer and fewer calls and messages, fewer and fewer I miss yous and I love yous, instead more and more arguments and misunderstandings. There were more and more drunken pictures of him that you saw on the Internet, more and more rumors about secret "friends" of Corroded Coffin members. At every turn whenever you went on any social media you were bombarded with theories that made you sick. Not wanting to bury yourself in this hole even more, you put your phone down on the coffee table and turned on the movie to occupy your thoughts, but somewhere in the middle of it you fell asleep.

You were awakened by Eddie's loud comeback and quiet curses from his mouth. You turned on the lamp that stood by the couch and looked at him sleepily. He was barely standing on his feet, you knew immediately that he was drunk, you couldn't stop the thought that he might have been under the influence of something else.

"Where were you?" you asked quietly, having neither the desire nor the strength to argue.

"At the re-rehsal." He replied trying to look sober. His tounge wasn't able to form any clear words.

"And later?"

"I hav' n'idea what you talkin'bout." he mumbled under his breath, you could barely understand what he was saying. He shakily walked toward the bedroom.

"Eddie you're drunk."

"'not."

"Why are you lying? Couldn't you at least write that you'll come back later?"

You received no answer. Without even trying to undress, he just threw the phone on the bedside table and landed on the soft mattress immediately falling asleep.

With a burden on your heart, you got up from the couch and, taking a bottle of water with you, because you knew he would need it in the morning, went to the bedroom to lie down next to him. The room smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. You watched his body move with every breath, wondering what happened to the boy you knew like the back of your hand. The boy who mocked everyone who devoted their lives solely to alcohol and parties. A boy who wanted more than just fame and money, who always cared about his loved ones and wouldn't even think of pushing them away in favor of other, "more famous" friends.

It hurt you what was happening to him, it hurt you that you couldn't do anything about it, because whenever you tried to talk to him on the subject everything ended in one big fight. It scared you how much you didn't like his new persona. Even scarier was the thought that this change was permanent.

You were awakened by the vibration of his phone. Wiping your sleepy face with your hand, you took it to turn it off, but you noticed a text message on the screen from an unknown number.

unknown: let me know if you want more ;)

You sharply inhaled the air feeling like your heart was about to jump out of your cage. You knew you shouldn't do this however it was stronger than you. You unlocked your phone and went into the messages with the unnamed number.

Under the message sent above was a picture of a pack of cigarettes. Did he want more cigarettes? You were surprised because after everything he went through in the Upside Down he promised you he would stop smoking. Biting your lower lip nervously, you started scrolling up. There weren't a lot of messages, the earliest one was sent a few hours ago, half an hour before Eddie got home. However, one detailed message from him was enough to make your vision begin to blur.

unknown: how can I return the favor?

eddie: send nudes eddie: just kidding

As if burned, you threw the phone straight at him. He woke up with a growl. Little did he know, though, that a hangover would be the least of his worries. You quickly got out of bed and started getting dressed.

"What's goin on?" he asked seeing your condition

"What's goin on?" you asked pointing your finger at the phone. He frowned and looked at the tiny screen and then realized what was the reason for your behavior. "Who is she?"

"Chrissy's friend." he replied as if nothing had happened.

"And what does she have to repay you for?" Your voice slowly broke.

"After the party she needed a ride so I ordered a cab and we drove her and then I came back here. I don't see what the problem is."

"You really don't see what the problem is? Maybe in what you wrote back to her!"

"It was just a joke don't be dramatic!" he replied sitting down on the bed.

You couldn't believe it. He really thought that writing such things to other girls was okay? Even if it was just a joke, you were not going to accept it. Although you've always known that Eddie can laugh at anything, jokes also had their limits, and this was definitely overstepping them.

"You can't be serious now." you said looking straight at his tired face.

"It was just a joke." he repeated through his teeth. "It's not my fault you don't get them."

The old Eddie would never do something like that to you. The old Eddie, when Steve made jokes like that with other girls was the first to point it out to him and say how pathetic his behavior was. Your old Eddie at least would have let you know yesterday that he would be late and wouldn't be back for dinner.

"I don't care if it was a joke Eddie. I don't give a shit it was a joke!" you raised your voice. Everything you had kept under lock and key for the past months was just being released from you. "How would you feel if I wrote to any of your friends like that?"

An expression of realization flashed across his face, but after a moment it was again replaced by irritation. "After all, she didn't send me any, at least she knows it was a fucking joke, not like you!"

"You wouldn't even admit to me if she had sent one! You could have flirted with each other all the way back and you still wouldn't have told me about it!"

"Maybe we were!" he yelled. "Just- Can you just shut up, my head is pounding." He said hiding his face in his hands. "Get the stick out of your ass, because lately you've been doing nothing but whining."

"No. I'm sick of it Eddie. I'm sick of the person you've become." Shocked, he immediately raised his head. His big puppy eyes found yours however, this time you didn't give in. What was going on between the two of you was not good and it was time to explain. It was time for brutal honesty. "You have changed. You have become someone you would have been disgusted with just two years ago."

"What are you talking about?"

"About you, Eddie! Now all that matters to you is alcohol and these stupid parties. I don't know if you remember, but during one of your speeches at the table in high school you emphasized how much you despise such people!"

"I don't know if it gets to you, but we're not in high school anymore." he scoffed.

"What happened to you? What happened to Eddie, who wrote songs about fighting knights and dragons? Who wrote beautiful love ballads? Whose music had a message? Your last album is all empty words about sex, drugs and how there is nothing meaningful in life! I can understand to devote a few songs to that, but not a whole damn album!" You knew that criticizing his music would be a blow to a sensitive spot, but what was your one blow compared to his treating you like a punching bag? "Where is Eddie who couldn't wait for the campaign and was excited to wonder if Dustin would find an ulterior motive in it? Where is the Eddie who could talk to Will for hours about his role as DM? Where is the Eddie who at every possible opportunity went back to Hawkins to spend some time with his Uncle? Where the hell is the Eddie who didn't choose getting drunk over our dinners together? Where is the Eddie who was always looking for ways to be close to me?!"

"Y/n…" he tried to interrupt you however it was too late. You sped away breaking all the brakes along the way.

"Where is Eddie, who always answered my I love yous? Because the one in front of me now doesn't even want to look at me anymore." You were crying, struggling with breathing out the words. "For the past few months, every time I come you have a problem with kissing me. If I didn't hug you myself you wouldn't do it. You don't answer my messages, you don't answer my calls, when was the last time you told me you loved me?"

"Maybe I wouldn't have stopped doing that if you hadn't criticized me all the time!" he shouted avoiding your last question. He knew the answer would not be acceptable.

"And in what should I support you?! In getting drunk to the point of unconsciousness? Asking for nudes from other girls?! Do you even have any idea how much it hurts me? You don't tell me anything! You keep everything a secret, your nights out, your new friends, you never want to talk about it! How do I know what the hell you are doing there?! I'm supposed to support you in this so that later I can see pictures everywhere from clubs of you having a great time with your fans who are pushing themselves straight into your lap and you don't even try to stop them?!"

"You're just jealous! You're pathetically jealous because you can't accept that my life is so much better now and I don't need you in it at all!"

Suddenly you had nothing more to add. Everything had become clear. Clearer than you had imagined.

It took a while for him to realize what he had said, his words broke the heart not only for you but also for him, because he knew that this was the moment when he would lose you.

"Baby, no. Shit, I am so sorry-" he approached you quickly grabbing your hand but you immediately yanked it away. "Sweetheart, please, that's not what I meant. You know I love you, I'm sorry I've been acting like this lately, please, I'll change, I promise." he panicked. It intensified when he didn't get any response from you. You walked around the room collecting your belongings, which you threw into a suitcase occasionally wiping away tears. Despite his begging and following you around like a lost puppy dog you never spoke a word to him again. Even when you left slamming the door.

For the first few weeks it didn't get to him. He completely lost himself in the party vortex forgetting all God's world "enjoying" his freedom. Waking up in places he didn't know next to people he didn't remember with a massive headache, lack of energy and nausea. This was his new daily life. A daily life that was wearing him down. The Internet was buzzing with news, stories and footage of him getting into fights with other people, or of Gareth and Jeff or Simon having to carry him out of clubs and bars because he was so drunk he couldn't do it on his own strength.

Locked in a vicious cycle, he was starting to suffocate. Suddenly all the things he wanted so much but couldn't do when he was with you were starting to push him away. Suddenly all the quickies with people whose name he didn't even know began to disgust him. The mere mention of any alcohol made him sick. Despite the fact that there were still plenty of people around him giving him their full attention, he felt lonely. Queues of groupies lining up for the tour bus, the forbidden fruit that tempted so much turned out to be nothing.

Lying alone in bed, he stared at the ceiling feeling cold. The darkness that surrounded him consumed his entire soul. Hearing the vibration of the phone he quickly grabbed it hoping it was a message from you, but it wasn't. Suddenly Eddie felt a burning feeling in his eyes that he hadn't felt in a long time. He touched his tear-wet cheeks in disbelief. He couldn't remember the last time he cried, but it must have been a very long time ago. Feeling despair spreading throughout his body, he decided to grab a lifeline and called the person he could always count on in such situations. The person who never refused to help him and who always managed to chase away his demons. Unfortunately, this person did not answer this time, leaving him alone. The person he shouted right in her face that he didn't need her in his life. Sadly, he needed her more than he thought, and loved her even more, but somewhere in his crazy journey, greedy for fame, he forgot all about it leaving him completely alone. He thought about the moment you separated, thought about everything you told him then, thought about how right you were. The longer he thought about it, the more disgusted he became with the person he had become. You were so damn right. He felt like a blinded fool. In fact, that's exactly what he was. The Eddie you loved got lost in the maze of celebrity and money, and in order to survive there he had to adapt to the new environment by creating a completely new version of himself. A version he wasn't proud of.

When he finally calmed down and wiped away his last tears he felt a surge of motivation. He was determined to find the old Eddie and bring him back.

Everyone immediately noticed the change. When rock star, social spirit, party monster Eddie Munson locked himself inside four walls cutting himself off from everything people were shocked. The real reason was known only to the members of Corroded Coffin, who forced him to talk. When he finally told them everything they showed him great support and helped him regain his former self. It was not an easy and quick process, but after a few months he managed to change tracks. Focusing mainly on writing new songs, after the concerts he always returned to the hotel, where he occupied his thoughts with planning D&D campaigns to which he also wanted to return. It turned out that escaping into the fantasy world was still great medicine for his tortured soul. He spent a great deal of time talking to Wayne. The old man was initially very surprised, but also happy to hear his nephew more often now. At his and Corroded Coffin's manager's urging, he also tried visits to a psychologist, which helped him not only find balance in his new life but also helped him deal with nightmares from the past.

The last destination on the tour was Indianapolis. Being so close to home, Eddie sent you all VIP entrance tickets. With a tightness in his heart, he watched as Max, Lucas, Dustin, Mike, El, Erica and Will lined up right at the barriers in front of the stage. Right behind them walked Steve and Robin, and at the very end you. After such a long time of no contact with you, he felt like crying at your sight. He didn't believe you would come, he thought you hated him and nothing would convince you to be here today. And yet there you were. Fate was giving him a chance and he wasn't going to let it pass.

The concert went well, to everyone's surprise, they didn't play a single song from the new album. They relied mainly on those that were written back in Gareth's garage in the days when the world had no idea who Corroded Coffin was. Some people, were not happy about this, but the vast majority sang the songs along with them as much as they had breath. At the very end of the performance, Eddie approached the microphone putting his finger to his lips, thus asking for silence.

"Before we finish, I'd like to announce something." he said looking around. "I'm damn grateful for each and every one of you here, if it weren't for you, we would never have gotten this far, and I will never be able to repay you for that." The crowd went wild, everyone started shouting and applauding, and Eddie smiled and once again asked for silence. "Unfortunately, even on the most beautiful journey one can get lost. And I got lost very badly, and I think that if someone hadn't shouted it in my face a few months ago I would never have found my way back." He grunted. He tried to find you in the crowd, but the headlights blinded him and he couldn't. You, however, saw him. You saw him very well, for the first time in a long time you saw Eddie. The real one. "But I found it. This road is not one of the easiest, so it hurts my heart to tell you that this is the last Corroded Coffin concert this year. It will be a few months before we start working on the new album and hit the road again, and I hope that at least some of you have the boundless patience to welcome us back in time as warmly as you bid us farewell today." he chuckled, receiving thunderous applause anew. "But before we say a final goodbye for today we have a surprise for you."

Unfamiliar chords rang out from the speakers as everyone realized it was a new song, and people started jumping and shouting with excitement.

Cold ground as your deathbed The last thing you hear is scream Heart-wrecking cry of a little ship The little ship is begging Praying to the God above for a miracle You don't know which one But one of them have heard the prayer And you are breathing again

You are back but something is wrong You are back but something is missing Your hands are cold Your heart is colder

Then you meet her Like a ray of sunshine cutting through the clouds Her touch is soft Her voice is calm But her heart Her heart was forged in the abyss of hell In the fire hottest than the Sun She's got a hellfire heart

You can try to avoid it You can try to escape But when she touches you she leaves burning marks She will break your ribs She will pull the lungs out of your chest She will find a way to your heart And you will let her

Be careful you blind fool Because once you lose her You feel like death is taking you back Be careful you stupid creature Because once you stop appreciating what you've got You'll end up alone Without the littlest spark to keep you warm You will freeze to death in the middle of a fire

When you meet her Like a ray of sunshine cutting through the clouds Her touch is soft Her voice is calm But her heart Her heart was forged in the abyss of hell In the fire hottest than the Sun She's got a hellfire heart

After the concert officially ended, the whole group went backstage. Seeing the excitement of everyone except you, Eddie guessed that you didn't tell anyone about what happened between you. When he found the right moment he pulled you aside and locked the two of you in a fitting room. Without a word you stared at each other waiting for someone to finally make the first move. Despite his fear, he knew he had to be the one to make it.

"Thank you for coming." he said quietly taking a step closer to you, but you took that one step back. "I know I fucked everything up, I know that some stupid song won't change anything, I know you have the right to hate me. I've been a complete asshole, everything at its worst, I've treated you in a terrible way, and to tell you the truth I don't even deserve to have you standing here with me…" he once again tried to approach you. This time you did not move away. "I love you, I haven't stopped loving you and you need to know that. I know I didn't show it to you like I should have, I know you didn't feel it and you had the right to doubt it. I want you to know that I have changed. At least I'm trying to do that, I'm in therapy and it's said to be having an effect. Who would have thought, huh?"

"Your apology won't make me forget all this Eddie." you said.

"I know, and I don't expect you to forget. All I'm asking you for is a chance, to show that I've changed. I may never be able to get back the old Eddie you fell in love with, but I can assure you that the Eddie you hated is definitely not coming back. In front of you stands a brand new Eddie, hopefully better than the previous ones."

"I can forgive you, but that doesn't mean it will stop hurting." The tears in your eyes were breaking his heart. Old Eddie would have killed him for how much pain he caused you. "Even if I forgive you it doesn't mean I'll give us a second chance Eddie. I don't know if I'll be able to."

"I know, but I beg you to try to get to know me again. Maybe someday you'll be able to fall in love with me all over again." he grabbed your hand. Large and warm, in which you could easily hide your own. Whose touch used to be home to you.

"I forgive you." you whispered. Hearing those words, he couldn't stop the smile that pressed on his lips. That was enough. From that moment on, he knew he would do anything to fix the mistakes of the past.

"Can I hug you?" he asked shyly, and you only nodded your head. Holding you in his arms, he felt that his life was becoming complete again.

Your path was uncertain, you had no idea how it would end, and neither did he. However, the end was far away, and for now you had to focus on the beginning.

taglist: @i-me-mine @phantypurple @tlclick73

[aritsukemo]

hii !! can i request a sunny x reader where reader is like vyn richter from tears of themis? here's a brief description if u don't know abt him!

vyn richter has a calm and elegant vibe and nothing seems to be of challenge to him, he's good at observing people's emotions and is very, if not, too sharp at observations, (he's a psychiatrist which explains it), those around him feel at ease and naturally open up to him, displaying their truest self

that's all, thank you!

Sunny with a Vyn Richter!reader

Warnings: This post contains not so vague spoilers for one of the endings of Omori! If you haven't seen the full game yet, I wouldn't suggest reading unless you want to be spoiled! ⚠️

A/N: So I guess this means I'm opening requests now? 😅 I've heard hearsay about this game but have never actually played it. Maybe this is life telling me I should give it a try, hehe~ ( I apologize in advance for how ooc both the reader and Sunny is! )

↪ When you moved to Faraway Town two years after the incident happened, Sunny didn't think much of it. Heck, being as far gone as he was at the time, he probably didn't even notice having completely cut himself off from the outside world

↪ It wasn't until another two years later when Kel finally managed to get Sunny out of the house that he was able to meet you. By that time, you had long become a well known figure in town and made many friends, Kel included, which is how you inevitably met one of his best friends, Sunny

↪ At first, you hadn't made the most lasting impression on him. Yes, you were kind to him, but nothing about you really stuck with him. If anything, he found you a little intimidating since everyone seemed to hold you in such high regards whenever you were brought up. That being said, his first hangout with you was from a distance and Kel did all of the talking for him

↪ At the end of the day, you had opted to walk Sunny home since Kel had to run some errands for his mom. Sunny wasn't fond of the idea but, of course, didn't verbalize his thoughts. Kel wasn't planning on leaving you two alone either, but since you managed to persuade him otherwise, he ended up leaving Sunny in your care, much to the boy's dismay

↪ As you walked side by side, you maintained a one-sided conversation, not at all bothered or discouraged by the fact that Sunny made no effort to answer your surface level questions or say anything at all. Instead, you continued speaking and shifted the conversation to focus on yourself so that he could get to know you better and hopefully give him the incentive to talk about himself..which didn't happen

↪ When you finally made it to his home, Sunny was relieved. It's not that you were overbearing or anything, but he wasn't very fond of walking with strangers..

↪ "I had a wonderful time with you today, Sunny. Remember, if there's anything bothering you, I'm only a few blocks away."

↪ Over the course of a few mere months, you had managed to become a staple in Sunny's life. Everyday you had made it a habit to check up on him and although he didn't answer the door at first, he eventually did and got used to your daily visits. You always brought food, made conversation, and occasionally subtly questioned him about things regarding his health. Usually, Sunny would be put off by this behavior or even a little annoyed by it, but things felt different with you. He doesn't know how to explain it, but something about you just made him feel so safe and comfortable..

↪ That behavior eventually led him to adding a counterpart of you in the false world in his head and even then, they acted exactly like you to the point where his own counterpart feared you'd find out the truth..which you inevitably did

↪ It was a tough, tough battle. In his daydreams, you had always managed to weasel your way into Omori's friend group no matter how many times he reset/changed things. Additionally, he always had the reoccurring dreams of you somehow finding out the truth which inevitably led to Omori having to kill you over and over and over again in order to protect Sunny

↪ But after a while even his counterpart, who was created to fight tooth and nail to keep the truth hidden, fell victim to your comfort and could no longer hide anything from you which led to Sunny becoming rather..distressed. It was even worse that you noticed his distress irl

↪ That day was the first time in a long time Sunny ever let someone in completely. He told you everything. What happened, his daydreams, all of it. He fully expected a negative reaction from you, I mean, he looked and sounded crazy, but.. You gave him a smile and kept a steady grip on his hand instead..

↪ "I figured something like this was the case.. Oh, don't get me wrong. I had no idea of how deep this went, but from what I heard from the others I was able to piece most things together on my own.. Either way, I can understand why you would keep things under wraps. Such a traumatizing situation like that must have been hard on both you and Basil..hm. Regardless of everything, please know that I'll always be here for you, Sunny."

↪ And that was the day you sold every ounce of your future free time to him lmao-

↪ After you made it clear that you don't think differently of him for what happened, Sunny has been glued to your side. He comes to you for just about everything and he'll pretty much do anything if it meant he can be in your presence. Going outside and hanging out with you and Kel, running errands with you, and more!

↪ Little by little, you helped him however you could in order to hopefully better his mental health. You could somehow always tell how he felt despite his neutral face so he could never hide anything from you. He became just a tad bit more talkative ( Not to anyone else, he was pretty much the same towards them ) and thanks to your help, got little better at conveying how he felt. It wasn't great, but it was progress and that's all that mattered to you

↪ When everything hit the fan, you were away on a family vacation and when you came back, you were informed that Sunny and Basil were sent to the hospital and immediately payed them a visit. You were just a little worried, moreso for Basil than Sunny since Basil wasn't as willing to open up to you despite your many efforts, but that slight unease soon went away when you visited Sunny

↪ He didn't tell you what happened or why his eye was covered in bandages, but he did let you know that he told Kel and the others what really happened to Mari. You were so proud of him and made sure to let him know of how proud you were that he was able to overcome everything on his own. You weren't expecting him to crack a smile

↪ You were truly the best thing that could've ever happened to him, he thinks

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx