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lokislastlove · 3 years

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Best Laid Plans (Fluffy Bucky x Reader) p3

Summary: Bucky is determined to woo you properly, no matter how rusty he is at dating these days.

Warnings: Some smut at the end, oral (fr), Bucky has bad luck, but we love him anyway. 18+ only please.

This is my first attempt at Fluff, it is not my strength, to say the least, so by all means ignore this. @saiyanprincessswanie I wrote this for you, I hope you like it and with any luck maybe it brings a tiny smile to your face when you need it. 💕 Also remember this is fiction, I know Bucky’s arm is fancy as hell and has no flaws.

Chapter 3 -

🌹 The Third Date 🌹

The office is abuzz with rumors of your new romance. For obvious reasons Pepper never shuns coworkers dating, but does caution that she expects everyone to remain professional regardless of the outcome. Bucky is one of the most sought after bachelors in the building so naturally people notice when he fixes his attention on you. For the two days following your fruit-filled frolic in the hills Bucky is constantly around. He brings you coffee, flowers by the dozen every day, saves you a seat during the meetings, cooks you lunch and even brings Kal in to see you.

“Okay, I can’t wait any longer. You willing to give me that second chance, tomorrow?” Bucky bursts into your office an hour before you leave Friday evening.

You gasp as the door slams against the wall and he cringes, “uh, sure. I’m free tomorrow. Should I just go ahead and wear my yoga pants?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. And no. I let Steve pick the date idea this time. Just don’t wear anything that you don’t want getting a little dirty,” he winks.

You let out a sigh, “wouldn’t it be easier to just tell me what we’re doing?”

“That’s no fun, Angel.”

——

The next morning you wake up to a text from Bucky, just like you have every morning since your first date.

Good Morning, Beautiful! Can’t wait to see you today. I’ll pick you up at 11am. 😀

Bucky has managed to make waking up a highlight of your day, something you never thought possible. Plus you got him to start using emojis, which Steve claims he will never forgive you for.

You choose some dark wash jeans and a V-neck t-shirt with a jacket and boots. Stylish but casual, you feel good, excited to find out what adventure Bucky will be dragging you into this time.

Your phone dings as you race out the front door and gulp when you see the bike again. God he looks good with it though, his light brown leather jacket highlights his olive skin and his dimpled smile has you swooning as you reach him. Determined to get a hang of this motorcycle thing you jump on back and cling to Bucky with a bit more confidence today.

Bucky reigns in his speed this time, and you find yourself enjoying the rush of the wind on your face and the warmth of him in your arms. To your shock Bucky leads you to a ceramic shop not far from Avengers tower, specifically for couples pottery class.

“Steve assures me that this is supposed to be fun and romantic,” Bucky says as you find yourself sitting next to him on a dirty stool with a spinning round table in front of you.

“Steve hasn’t been watching old romance movies again, has he?”

Bucky squints at you, “Actually, yeah but he said it had ghosts in it, and I got enough of those.”

You grab his hand and give it a squeeze before taking a deep breath, “Ok, let’s do this!”

It takes about a minute to realize what a terrible idea this is as Bucky curses under his breath and his arm starts making strange whirling noises.

“Oh shit, uh is clay good for your arm?” You ask, nodding at the way the plates of his metal arm seems to twitch and groan as the wet clay slide and congeal between them as they shift.

“Fuck,” Bucky curses as he shakes out his metal arm and you grimace at the worrisome noise it makes before it stops moving all together.

“Do you want to take it off?” you offer.

Bucky looks frustrated with a hint of panic as he sits there contemplating the best move. He still isn’t very comfortable going without his arm in public.

“Or we could just decide not to take Steve’s dating advice anymore and go back to the tower and get cleaned up?” You laugh and bump him with your elbow.

He scoffs out a laugh, “yeah. You know I used to be the one that was good at this stuff, I was the charming one who helped get Steve a date.”

“Oh is that so? Well I think you’re doing better than you think you are,” you smirk.

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully.

“Yeah, now come on Casanova,” you stand and wipe your hands on the towel nearby.

You can’t help but laugh as you follow him out the door, looking at the light gleam off the metal that isn’t covered in clay.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just… gonna be hard to convince me you’re not a complete mess after this one.”

——

You could tell Bucky’s confidence had taken a major hit, well three major hits to be honest. And while he constantly berated himself for everything that went wrong, you couldn’t help but love him even more with each blunder. And when he doesn’t insist you give him another shot after that disastrous pottery date, you seek out Steve’s advice.

“Do you think I should try to make a move? Ask him on a date maybe? Or is that insulting to … men from your era,” you finish awkwardly.

Steve laughs softly, “I think Bucky could use a sign that you aren’t willing to give up yet. You should give it a shot, as long as it’s what you want and not just out of pity.”

“Of course it’s not out of pity, you really think I’d do that?” you ask, trying not to get too offended.

“No, doll, of course I don’t. But that’s likely what he’s going to think.” He placates and gives you a knowing look before walking out of your office.

You push back your shoulders and pull out your phone to text Bucky.

Hey if you’re free tonight you should come over to my place. Maybe around 8pm? No dress code. 😘

🌹 The Fourth Date 🌹

Bucky arrives at 7:50pm that evening and you push the buzzer to let him in. You leave the door cracked for him and finish the final touches.

“Angel?” He calls as he knocks and you hear the door creak open. “Uh, hello?” His voice falters as he closes the door behind him and takes in the candles neatly arranged along a path of rose petals.

You hear him remove his heavy boots and call your name as he follows the path further into your apartment and closer to where you’re waiting for him. You shift nervously on your feet as you wait with baited breath for him to appear around the corner.

“Angel, what’s going..” His voice gets caught in his throat as he stands in your doorway and sees you waiting for him.

You’re wearing a simple nightgown, a silky robe and stockings. The thin straps and sleek material drape softly over your curves, enticing enough to make him pause but not overly revealing to be considered scandalous. You didn’t want to be too bold and scare him off too fast, or make yourself appear too desperate.

“Hi, Bucky,” you smile as you watch his pupils dilate and his chest strain against his shirt as his breathing gets heavier.

He clears his throat and his cheeks glow pink as his eyes flick up to meet yours, “uh hey, Angel. Am I dreaming?”

You laugh as you take a few steps toward him and he mirrors you, “I just thought that maybe I’d surprise you with a date, this time. If you’re up for it.”

“Well, I will admit that my interest is quite peaked already.” He jokes, his eyes roving down your body once more as he gently takes your hands and holds them out to get a better look at you.

You giggle and rolls your eyes, “Nothing crazy, just a simple movie date, and I have the perfect set up. Follow me.”

You pull him over to your bedroom window and climb out onto the fire escape, he follows closely, his curiosity climbing with each creaky step.

“You sure this is safe?” He asks as the stairs rattle under his weight.

“No,” you say simply as you reach the top, “but it’s worth it.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as he takes in the rooftop space that you’ve meticulously decorated for him. Strings of lights hang on the low rooftop walls. A large air mattress is tucked between the pipes and vents, facing a large projector screen. You made sure to add mountains of fluffy pillows and soft blankets to keep you cozy under the stars.

“This is amazing,” he mutters as he eyes the plate of snacks and bottle of wine waiting on the bed.

“I know, isn’t the view amazing? I’ve always loved it up here, but I didn’t know it had this much potential until now,” you remark as you look out onto the glimmering view of the city skyline.

Bucky’s fingers slip between yours and curl sweetly as he guides you over to the soft bed. He flops down and settles in before opening his arm for you to join him. You grab the remote and the wine and curl up next to him. Drawing up your legs and letting them rest against his muscular thigh.

“I don’t deserve all this,” he utters sadly as he watches you pour the wine.

“Steve said you’d say something stupid like that,” you laugh as he looks stunned for a moment. “So let me just settle this right now.” You take deep breath and let it out with a quiet huff.

“I have been the happiest I’ve ever been since you asked me out on that first date. I look forward to waking up every morning knowing I’ll get to see you and possibly, maybe, do more than just ogle you from afar. Oh don’t look at me like that!” You laugh and smack Bucky’s shoulder when he smirks at you and wiggles his brow.

“I know you think you blew it after our first three dates but all I remember is seeing a passionate man willing to chase down a dog through the mud, even if it meant embarrassing himself. I remember you saving me from a potentially fatal injury, and I remember a man so desperate to impress me that he took advice from Steve Rogers,” you bite your lip as you watch Bucky choke out a laugh at your jab at his best friend.

“You may think all of these moments are flaws, but honestly I wouldn’t want to change a single thing. So let’s just –” Your speech is cut off when Bucky’s hands are suddenly on the side of your face and pull you in for a blazing kiss.

It’s as though you’ve unlocked something in him as he devours you, his tongue trailing across your lip and delving into your mouth when you open for him. You moan as his hands slip down to your neck, his thumbs pressing ever so slightly on your pressure points before he pulls away just enough to kiss and nibble along your jaw. The pleasure and passion is dizzying and you feel your body bend to his will. Your hands grasp at his shirt as he nuzzles and sucks along your neck now, making his way to your clavicle.

The feather pillow braces your head as Bucky lays you down and hovers above you, his body heat warming you as the cool night breeze tickles over each spot he kisses.

“God, Angel, you have no idea how badly I want you right now. How badly I’ve wanted you for so long.” He groans against your chest, dragging his nose over the thin material between your breasts.

“Me too,” you breathe.

You push at the lapel of his jacket, trying to urge him to take it off. He sits up, fixing his eyes on you as he slowly strips off his coat and tosses it away, followed by his shirt immediately after. Your breath hitches as you let your fingers lightly glide down his stomach, feeling every ripple of firm muscle under his heated skin.

“Wow, the girls at work would be so jealous right now,” you kid.

“I’m almost offended that you think this is my best feature,” he scoffs gesturing to his stomach, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“By all means, show me more. I did come up here for a show after all,” you tease, tilting your head and biting your lip as you eye the growing bulge in his pants.

“Oh, I think I know how to keep you entertained,” he smirks and lowers himself over you, his hot breath leaving goosebumps on your skin as he dips lower down your body.

You look down as he pauses over your quivering center and lifts the hem of your dress up to reveal your lace panties. He growls lowly and hooks his finger under them, pulling them quickly to the side. You twitch as he blows lightly over your lips, the cool air hitting the slick arousal already pooling between your thighs. He chuckles as you grip the blankets tightly and he pushes his long thick tongue between your folds, circling your bud at the top. You let out a long moan as his fervor increases, the feeling of his rough tongue dipping into your dripping hole and then back up to flick over your clit is driving you closer and closer to the edge.

After the past two weeks of the most intense sexual tension you’ve ever experienced it doesn’t take much for him to have you squirming under his touch. Your toes curl and a broken scream echoes over the rooftops as you come on his hungry lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he coos as your eyes flutter open and see him hovering over your face once more.

Your jaw slackens, pupils blown as you take in his debauched state, his tousled hair, lips and beard glistening with your come. You reach up and pull him down to you, tasting yourself on his tongue. You feel his metal arm fumble with his jeans between you as he pulls out his aching cock. Your eyes flick down in curiosity and you can’t help but gasp as you gaze at his veiny, thick length.

“You see how hard you make me?” He moans, fisting the base of his leaking cock.

You bite your lip, feeling an overwhelming desire to let him use you in any way he wants. Your body arching into him and your hips rolling desperately. Your submissive side blooming under his dominant tone.

You whimper and meet his eye, “fuck me, Bucky. Please.”

Your voice is soft and timid, nothing like the typical commanding confidence you have in your daily life, and it sends a thrill through Bucky. He latches onto your thighs and pushes them up toward your chest, exposing your cunt to him and he guides himself inside, moaning freely as your walls stretch to fit him.

“I’m never letting you go. My perfect, Angel.”

#Bucky Barnes x reader #fluffy bucky #fluffy bucky x reader #fluffy fic #smut #Bucky Barnes

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dalamjisung · 4 years

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read my mind ✿ park jinyoung

word count:6973

genre: hospital!au, fluff

pairing: psychiatrist!jinyoung x resident!reader

description: you work as a barista at night and as a psychiatry resident during the day, what happens when those two lives start to mix?

Fridays are the busiest nights; and consequently, the worst nights. Working at a bar isn’t exactly what you want to do for the rest of your life, but it pays the bills and the tips are too good to just give up on– medical school isn’t cheap, and neither are the loan interests you will have to pay for the next twenty years of your life. You didn’t have time to complain about your job; you had to do it and that’s it.

“Hey!” Someone scream as you continue to gather used cups from the counter. “Another double!”

“Coming right up!” You shout, looking at the older man waving his empty cup. “Be right there.”

“Thank you,” He smiles as you pour his drink, and your skin crawls. With the job came the instinctive reaction to sleazy man, the one that makes the hair on your arm stand, signaling the danger and discomfort to come. “Now, what is a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Working,” You offer him a smile, knowing it will give you points for a good tip. “Excuse me.”

In a bar, there are many different types of people. Desperate people, sad people, happy people, anxious people; it seems that once an emotion overrides all the others, the bar is the place people go to. A bar is a place for celebration, for laughter and good memories; but it can also be a place for misery, for crying and forgetting. It was only a matter of time until you learned how to read people– their desires, their thoughts, their next moves,– eyes intent on the clients, honing the ability to the point that a person didn’t even have to say anything, you just know what they want. Just like how you know this man only wants to flirt, looking for a boost to his ego from a young woman. He wants to feel empowered by all the wrong reasons and you smirk, amused by his antics. However, men like this one don’t easily let go, offended by the realization that you actually have to work and don’t have time for them; therefore, they resort to physical strength.

“Stay for a little bit,” He murmurs in your ear, brining you close by grasping your arm. “I could use the company.”

“Sir, I have other clients to tend to,” The smile on your face contrasts the harsh tone of your voice. “So if you could let me go, that would be great.”

And just like that, you lost your tips.

“Don’t be like that,” He tries again, and in his eyes you see the look you hate the most: anger. “I’m being nice, here.”

This is usually the time you call your manager with a very smooth and secure shout of his name, but it seems like today is your lucky day and someone wants more tequila shots.

“I have to go,” You pull your arm but he doesn’t bulge. “Sir, please, I have to do my job–“

“Can you let her go, already?” A man, sitting to the right of your current situation speaks, loud and clear, sounding as fed up as you. “Even I heard her, man… she has shit to do.”

“Mind your own business,” The guy holding your arms spits and you chuckle humorlessly, taking a chance with the sudden distraction and successfully pulling your arm from his grabby hands. You know that it will leave a bruise but you couldn’t care less.

“Now I will,” Your helper rolls his eyes and looks at you. His hand instinctively move to his empty cup and you are on it before he even opens his mouth, pouring whiskey enough to last him a while. His eyes are wide in surprise and he even cracks a small smile. “You didn’t have to, I was just–“

“You wanted more, so I gave you more,” You shrug, going back to your work.

“How’d you know?” He asks, cynical of you. “You read my mind or something?”

“Call it an educated guess,” You say, and keep moving, knowing that if you stop, tiredness will wash over you like a tsunami. “I’ll add it to your tab.”

The night ends seamlessly; nothing much happening after that one incident. It’s when you’re cleaning the counter alongside Jisung, your coworker, that it hits you. You never thanked him for his help. But then again, you think, I never asked for it.

“Y/N,” Jisung calls from where he is putting the cups away. “I think this is for you.”

“Throw it away,” You say not even looking at it. “I’m not interested.”

“Tsk, still trying to die alone?” Jisung laughs, and you laugh with him, knowing that he means well. “You are too beautiful to be alone, Y/N.”

“And you are too beautiful for that boyfriend of yours, but I don’t see you two breaking up anytime soon,” You tease, poking him on your way to the back. “Is he coming to get you?”

“Yeah,” Jisung shouts. “Want a ride?”

“Please,” You answer, relieved that you won’t have to wait for the bus. “I have a big day tomorrow.”

“Nervous?” Jisung asks when you meet him outside, the smoke of the cigarette coming out of his mouth in a swift puff. “Changing hospitals in the end of residency is always hard…”

“I’ll be fine,” You smile tightly. “I had to leave, and you know that…”

“But people don’t,” Jisung looks at you carefully. “I’m just worried about you.”

“It’s going to be okay,” You promise as his boyfriend’s car pulls up. “I’m going to a better hospital with a better paycheck; I’m as good as it gets.”

“Aish, do you only think about money?” He chastises you, frowning.

“Yes,” You smile cheekily, and his boyfriend laughs. “Until I pay all of my loans, money is the only thing I’ll think about.”

“This girl…” Jisung mumbles, moving to grab Chaewon’s hand. You look at them fondly, knowing that no matter how many times you tell these two that you are fine by yourself and that you don’t want to waste time and energy on a relationship, the truth finds you and, from time to time, you catch yourself wondering how good it would be if you had someone to pick you up from work, too.

————————

“Hello, I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” You bow with a wide smile, trying to hide the nervousness that comes with a situation like this. “I’m a fourth year resident, nice to meet you all.”

“Fourth year?” Someone whispers and you pretend you don’t hear them. “Isn’t that a bit late to be switching hospitals?”

“It’s good to have you, Dr. Y/N,” One of the nurses step forward, shaking your hand. “We are happy you’re here. I’m Jimin, or Nurse Park, whichever you prefer.”

“Yeah,” A girl steps forward. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Wheein.”

“Hi,” You wave shyly, glad that at least someone is talking to you. “Are you also a fourth year?”

She nods. “Yeah, but I’m with the Pediatrics department.”

“Ah, that sounds like fun,” You chuckle and she laughs with you. “I’m Psychiatry.”

After you say that, it feels like the words could echo in the silent room.

“W-What? Did I say something wrong?” You whisper with wide eyes, looking at your new friends. Jimin shakes his head and scoffs at his peers.

“Not at all,” He rolls his eyes. “The doctors are just being stupid.”

“It’s just shocking to see such a cheerful person like you working in such a sad place,” One of the doctors says, laughing as his friends nod. “It’s a hard job, but someone has to do it, isn’t that right?”

“Well, of course, Dr… Ahn,” You squint at his jacket, carefully reading his name. “Let me guess; surgeon?”

“Oh!” He exclaims, eyebrows going high. “How’d you know?”

“The hands,” You smile, pointing at his hands. “You’re holding your cup in a way that your hand won’t get burned with the hot coffee…”

“Wow,” He elbows his friend. “Consider me impressed.”

“What makes the Psychiatry ward so sad, Doctor?”

Your smile is gone, voice cold and cutting. Anyone could see your change in demeanor; eyes suddenly sharp, chest puffed, and chin high.

“Well, the–“

“Careful there Doctor,” You whisper close to him. “If you say ‘people,’ what will your colleagues think?”

He clears his throat, looking angry and confused. “It’s not–“

“Because if I can recall,” You interrupt him once again, going back to your smiley self. “The surgery room isn’t all that happy, with all the people desperately hanging onto their lives, trusting people like… you.”

“I don’t–“

“Don’t look down on people that can’t be fixed with surgery,” You breath, bowing to him. “I only ask that of you.”

You hear a mumble with some work you dare not to repeat and leave, a stampede of feet following him suit.

“That,” Wheein point at the leaving hoard of white jackets. “Was fucking cool.”

“I’m not a fan of people like him,” You say, suddenly blushing.

“And neither is our boss,” Jimin says throwing his arms around your shoulder. “Wait until you meet him.”

And you meet him. Around two hours later, after you are done with rounds and new patients’ admissions. When you see him, however, your heart stops, because that man does not look happy.

“Who are you?” He asks, not even looking up from his clipboard.

“I’m your new resident,” You bow. “Y/N Y/L/N.” “What year?”

“Fourth,” You say, feeling embarrassed for the first time.

“Fourth?” And he finally looks up. You don’t think he recognizes you, and you are not dumb enough to ask, choosing to nod instead. “Why?”

“Because I went through the first three already?” You try to joke but it clearly doesn’t work. “Sorry, bad joke. I just thought a change would be… good.”

“Good?” He frowns and his eyes scan you. “Did you get in trouble in the last hospital?”

You freeze.

“No,” You shake your head, looking down at your feet. As long as he didn’t recognize you, you’d be okay.

“If you are lying, I have ways to find out,” He says, and although his voice is soft, his words are harsh.

“Then please do,” When you finally gather the courage to look at his piercing eyes, you notice how they don’t look as intimidating as his attitude. They are understanding, and you are confused. “I’m here to do my best, Dr. Park.”

“That’s all I ask, then,” He nods. “Have you done rounds?”

“Yes, Doctor,” And you are back in your comfort zone, doing what you do best. Taking care of people that need you. “I also admitted two new patients and they are waiting for your assessment.”

“How long until you are a fellow?” He suddenly asks, reading the information in the chart. His eyes are quick and he scans everything with such precision that leaves you amazed.

“Three more months, Doctor,” You know this won’t help your case, but you also know you can’t lie to your boss.

“Hm,” He hums, and gives you the okay on the documents. “You’ve done a better job on these two files than most my fellows do. Keep it going.”

You blink, suddenly whiplashed. Was that a compliment?

“I give credit when credit’s due, Dr. Y/N,” He sighs, chuckling a little and you feel your whole body melt under that voice. “Don’t look so surprised.”

“Yes, Doctor, thank you,” You are quick on your feet and back with Jimin, discussing procedures.

“Ah,” Dr. Park calls again. “Y/N?”

Your body tenses, and you think, shit, he recognized me. This is it. He can fire me if he wants and–

“Those two patients you admitted,” He continues, hand on his pockets, looking so flawlessly cool.

“What about them?” You ask, suspicious of his easy going attitude.

“They are yours.”

And he leaves.

“Did he jus–“

“Oh wow,” Jimin’s eyes are wide, hands suddenly forgetting what they were doing. “Congrats, Y/N.”

“Is this normal?” You sigh. “He’s giving me more headaches than I’ve ever had in my life, and we talked for literally fifteen minutes.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin laughs. “That’s Doctor Park Jinyoung. He loves his job and he is not really easy on people, but once you get on his good side, it’s all good.”

“Are you on his good side?” You ask, jokingly poking him in the waist.

“Most definitely,” Jimin says. “He told me once I was the nurse he trusted the most… it makes me sad that he actually has to trust people to do his job. We are medical practitioners, you know.”

“Has any incident happened before?” You frown.

“Yeah,” His voice sounds strained and tired. “One time he caught a nurse referring to patients as “crazy” and he fired her on the spot. Two residents and a fellow committed the same mistake… don’t misunderstand this, they were good doctors, but Dr. Park Jinyoung doesn’t put up with people that invalidates or disrespect the patients.”

“I wouldn’t either…” You whisper, eyes finding the tall man in the hallway, talking with a wondering patient. She is old and looks lost, but he smiles– the most wonderful and peaceful smile,– and guides her back to her room. When he laughs, his cheeks puff and you can’t help but breath out in relief. Maybe this won’t be so bad, after all.

————————

“Sorry I’m late!” You call out from the back, already putting on your apron and moving to the front of the bar. “Things got a little hectic in the hospital.”

“Everything alright?” Jisung asks, and his eyes take you in; tired, messy, but overall happy.

“All good,” You smile. “I got it over here. Thanks for covering for me.”

“No problem,” He offers you a pat on the back and goes back inside. “Shout if you need anything.”

You just nod, already pouring a few regulars their orders. Cranberry vodka, Long Island Ice Tea, Tequila and lime. Whiskey.

“I knew it was you.”

You look up, and to your surprise, it’s Doctor Ahn. His tie is a little loose and he looks drunk enough to make a dumb mistake.

“Ms. Smart Mouth,” He laughs humorlessly. “Guess you’re not all that high and mighty now, are you?”

“How can I help you, Sir?” You smile, going over the basic script.

“Oh, gonna pretend you don’t know me?” He snarls and leans forward, almost tipping his drink over. “Do you know how much trouble you got me in with Dr. Park Jinyoung?”

Dr. Park?, you think, but say nothing, maintaining your ground even if all of your body was screaming to run away.

“He heard about our interaction,” Dr. Ahn grabs the front of your t-shirt and you sigh, knowing that Jisung would show up anytime now. “And threatened to take me to the board. On what ground? Huh? You tell me, since you’re so smart, Dr. Y/N, on what grounds that motherfucker can take me to the board of the hospital?”

“Disrespectful behavior, prejudice against the ill, and now, to top it all, harassment of a coworker.”

Jinyoung stood behind Dr. Ahn, arms crossed over his chest, and eyes shinning a weird glint– something like rage working inside him.

“Let go of my resident, Hanseok,” Jinyoung mumbles, and the sheer power of his words are enough to make himself heard over the loud music. “Or I’ll make sure those hands can never operate again.”

You are free just in time to hold Jisung back, putting your arm in front of his chest. He looks at you and you just shake your head, asking him to leave it.

“Doctors,” You call out, trained smile on your face and voice chirpy. “Why don’t we just all take a breather and have a drink? On the house.”

“Wha–“ Dr. Ahn starts to say something but Dr. Park passes by, hitting him with his shoulder, and sits on a stool.

“Whiskey, please,” He says, and this is more like the man you’ve met. Voice calm and soft, even offering you a small smile.

“Coming right up!” To say you’re relieved is an understatement. You weren’t looking for trouble, specially with your superiors.

“Can you guess if I want ice or not?” Dr. Park chuckles and looks at you, and something changes. His eyes, the glint you saw before is gone, and there’s a new light in them, something more relaxed and oh so endearing.

You offer him a smile. “That goes beyond my abilities, Dr. Pa–“

“Jinyoung,” He clarifies, blushing a little. “We’re outside of the hospital, so just call me Jinyoung, will you?”

“Sure thing, Jinyoung,” You giggle, continuing to clean the cups. “Anything you need, let me know. It’s on the house.”

“This is all wrong,” He says, looking bothered. “I should be the one buying you drinks.”

“W-why?” You stutter.

“As your sunbae, I should be the one buying my residents drinks,” He smiles and there they are, the cheeks. You control the urge to pinch them and smile.

“I’ll take you up on that some other time, sunbae,” You laugh, already moving to fill up someone else’s cup. “I have work to do.”

“What time does your shift end?”

“Late,” You sigh, tired just from thinking about it. “But don’t worry! I’ll be at the hospital on time and ready for work!”

“That’s not what I was worried about,” He says, downing his drink and gets up. “But that’s good to hear. Have a goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Jinyoung.”

————————

“Dr. Y/N,” Someone calls. “Patient on room two needs you!”

“Dr. Y/N, there are two emergency patients waiting!”

“Dr. Y/N, they are asking for your help in the Neuropsychology department!”

“Dr. Y/N–“

“Oh my god,” You groan, struggling to maintain your false composure; it’s now been two months since you first started at the hospital and you still wondered where were the other doctors. “Where are the other residents?”

“Dr. Yoon is having breakfast with a few fellows and Dr. Han is late,” Jimin giving you more folders. “You’re the only one here, at the moment.”

“For fuck’s sake, I can’t take care of a whole wing by myself, Jimin,” You breath out, suddenly having a hard time to concentrate.

“Hey, breath, Y/N, just breath,” He instructs, patting your back. “I’ve already called Dr. Park, he’ll be here as soon as possible, but for now, you need to do this.”

You close your eyes, pulling your hair back and retying it in a high ponytail. Just the mention of his name gives you energy; you know you need to do good by him.

“Okay, let’s go,” You put on your jacket and you start all over again, assigning nurses to each case as they demanded it. “Jimin, go to the Neuro department and see what they want, I’m sure Dr. Park’s opinion would be better than mine, so ask if they can wait until he’s here. Nurse Baek and Nurse Kyung, go to the emergency patients for an initial assessment and get back to me; I’m going to room 2.”

Y/N, those two patients you admitted, Jinyoung’s voice ring in your head. They are yours.

“Ms. Lee?” You smile, entering the room where the sweet old lady from before laid. “I’m your doctor, Dr. Y/N…”

“It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Y/N,” She laughs and you smile. She might not remember you, but the light in her eyes shine like no other.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Ms. Lee,” You shake her hand carefully. “Do you know where you are?”

“The hospital?” She asks. “I don’t remember coming here…”

“Yes, ma’am,” You nod. “You were admitted yesterday… but you don’t have to worry, though; we’ll take really goo care of you.”

“Oh I’m sure of that,” Her hand holds yours. “Can you tell me why I’m here, though? I don’t remember…”

Taking a deep breath, you started to explain her condition, going over the medical details in the simplest terms you could, giving her time to process and ask questions. Ms. Lee had suffered from a brain injury that lead her to have long term memory loss, resetting her brain every few hours, which would lead to issues such as taking care of herself and others. Her daughter admitted her to the hospital in hopes that she could be properly taken care of, and that’s what you’d do. She cries a little bit, but is pretty understanding of her situation over all.

“Will you come back later, Dr. Y/N?” She sniffles, and you chuckle.

“Of course, Ms. Lee,” You wink. “I have to visit my favorite patient at least twice a day.”

“I hope I’ll remember you later,” She says and your heart clenches. “If I don’t, it’s been a pleasure, Doctor.”

You just smile, not trusting yourself to speak at that moment. This was the hard part of the job; the feelings, the defeat, the acceptance. All doctors, surgeons or not, go through the same process of training, where you have to deliver bad news to the ones responsible for the patient… and that was the hardest part for you. Always’ been.

“Dr. Y/N, good morning,” Jinyoung calls, jogging past you to his office. Surprised with his sudden appearance, you take him in, and his jeans and t-shirt make you smile.

“Good morning, Doctor Park,” You mumble, even though you know he won’t hear you.

This has been the routine so far; you get in for the early morning shifts, on the nights you don’t have to stay for the overnight shift and miss work, with barely four hours of sleep, and no one is there besides Jimin. You take care of emergency patients and the patients in the rooms assigned to you. Then, when the clock hits an acceptable hour, Dr. Park shows up, wishing you a ‘good morning’ and running to his office, where he will change and look like the professionally stern doctor she usually does. Once your shift is over, you go to work at the bar, where you will pour greasy men their drink until Jinyoung shows up, and you two will talk for the couple hours he usually stays, then he leaves and you have to get back to your real life. And then repeat. Every night, though, Jinyoung brings you coffee; lattes, fast whites, americanos– always something to make your night better. And that’s how it happened, you realize; the slow growth of your feelings for him, one coffee at a time.

Today however, once Dr. Park finally takes over the ward, and your shift is over, and you go to your job where Jisung is waiting for you with redbull and a sandwich, you feel yourself slipping. You move slower than usual and some clients even have to call you twice before you can actually process it.

“What’s going on with you?” Jisung asks as he decided to help you with the counter.

“Nothing,” You shake your head, hoping it would wake you up. “I think I’m just a little tired.”

“A little?!” He laughs. “You’ve been overworked for years now. A little is underestimating it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say–“

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

You look to the group in front of you and now you feel like you could actually pass out.

“Dr. Kim,” You breath out, eyes wide in surprise. “W-what are you d-doing here?”

Not sure if Jisung heard you, your glance at him and he nods– he’s keeping an eye on you.

“So this is what you’re doing now?” Dr. Kim lets out a humorless laugh. “As expected of someone like you.”

Stay calm, you think to yourself, taking a deep breath. Stay calm, Y/N, and do your job.

“What can I help you with today?” And smile.

He laughs again and you don’t think you could ever forget this sound; it haunts you at night when you try to sleep and it follows you during the day, sneaking on your when you’re distracted. The only way to push it away is to focus on something else– like your patients.

“Oh, so now you want to help me?” He murmurs and leans forward and you’re scared.

For the first time since you started this job, you are terrified.

“Whiskey.”

Your hand flies to the bottle instantly, your body reacting on its own and moving to the new man sitting next to Dr. Kim. You feel his eyes on you, heavy on your back as you serve the costumer, unable to look up from your feet.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

Jinyoung.

“Ah,” Now you’re looking at him, begging him with your eyes to stop. “If it isn’t Kim Jungseok…”

“Park Jinyoung,” Dr. Kim smiles and you just want to sit down and cry; for two months, ever since you left your old hospital, all you’ve been wanting to do is cry. “How do you know my old resident?”

At this Jisung is right next to you, pushing you behind him.

“Because she’s my new resident,” Jinyoung point at you and takes a sip form his cup. “Best one I’ve ever had, to be honest.”

“Oh yeah, Y/N was the best at her job,” Dr. Kim looks at you and winks.

“Funny you say that,” Jinyoung chuckles and a weird sense of deja-vu hits you. You’ve seen that look in his face before, when he fired one of the fellows for inappropriate behavior towards a few of the nurses. From what you knew, he kept hitting on them and intimating them to go on dates. “Why’d you fire her?”

This is when you know you need to intervene.

“Dr. Park, I don’t–“

“She chose to leave,” Dr. Kim shrugs. “Can’t force her to stay, can I?”

Jinyoung laughs and finishes his drink. All the while, alarms are sounding in your head as your current boss turns to face your old boss. Everything in Park Jinyoung screamed powerful at that moment and you know that something big is about to happen.

“No, but apparently you can force her to do other things, right?”

Jisung is quick to pull you to the back as soon as the first punch is thrown. You scream Jinyoung’s name but he is too busy to look and the door closes, leaving just you, shaking and crying, and Jisung, who’s on the phone with the front door bouncers. As soon as they give you the okay, you are running to the front, looking for the man you see everyday, hoping to see him just one more time before tomorrow.

“No,” You mumble through your tears, banging your fist on the counter. “No no no, fuck no!”

“That was your old boss,” Jisung breaths out, looking at you. “And what Jinyoung said–“

“I have no fucking clue how–“

“Your file,” Jinyoung says, coming out of the bathroom with a wet napkin to his mouth. “Did you really think I’d never find out?”

“I didn’t–“ You stop, trying to think back to what you wrote on your file. “I didn’t say anything about it on my file.”

“You wrote issues with the staff, the rest I assumed,” Jinyoung sighs, sitting back on the stools, flinching a bit. “Harassment is not something I take lightly, Y/N.”

“Assumed?!” You shriek. “How the fuck–“

“You forget that’s my job,” And he looks at you like no one did before– like you are there, shinning brighter than the lights; like you are speaking louder than the music, and presence bigger than the room. He looks at you as if you are the only one present and you feel your heart do a weird thing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I?” You ask. “If people at the hospital knew, I’d be the talk of the department. I’d be labeled as either he girl that couldn’t just put up with it, or the girl that put up with it for too long… so I left before it got worse.”

“I didn’t say people,” He seethes, and you’ve never seen him look so devastated before. Not when Ms. Lee had one of her episodes, not when he was called in to evaluate the mental condition of an inmate, not when you were swarming with emergency patients. Never. “I said me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-I don’t know…” You whisper, drying the few tears that still dared to fall and turning to the freezer to get a couple of drinks. “I just didn’t.”

“Do you not trust me?”

“Jinyoung!” You chastise, turning to face him with now two beers. The bar had been closed a little early thanks to the fight and Jisung was nowhere to be seen. It was just the two of you now, and you sit next to him. “Why would you say that?”

He shrugs. “I’m the one responsible for you now,” He sighs, turning to you. “And how can I take care of you if you won’t let me?”

“I’m your employee,” You roll your eyes. “Not your girlfriend.”

“…yeah,” Jinyoung takes a sip. “Sure.”

Something shifts, as you sit there, alone with Jinyoung, drinking beer, after he had just been punched because of you. His words, slow and sad, hit you like a ton of bricks. His eyes, looking down at his hands, make their way to you. And now you know. Now you are sure.

“Jinyoung,” You breath out, sounding as surprised as you are sure you look. “Do you like me?”

His head hangs low, and he chuckles. “Read my mind again, did you?”

“I–“

“Don’t,” He asks, eyes shinning with strength. “We’re old enough to not have to explain.”

“I work,” You blurt out, ignoring him completely. “Two jobs; the hospital and here. Not because I like, though… here, I mean. I don’t work here because I like it, but the tips are good and I need money.”

Jinyoung just nods.

“I need to pay my school loans,” Words keep coming out of your mouth and you are not sure why. You’ve never felt the need to explain yourself before, but with Jinyoung everything is just different. “I need to pay them as soon as possible because I don’t want this huge debt interfering with my career. I’m sure I’ll be able to do it in a few years, if I manage to get my fellow in this hospital. All the time I don’t spent with you and Jimin, I’m here. I’m constantly tired, hungry, stressed, and overworked. I smile to men that are disgusting because I can’t tell them fuck themselves without losing my job and I don’t have anything to look forward to, anymore. I like you, too. You are caring, and kind, and an incredible doctor. But why do you like me? I’m not the best at what I do, but I’m not the worst. I’m not particularly skilled, or impressive, or–“

“Somedays,” Jinyoung interrupts your rambling, hand moving to cover yours, resting in the counter. “I have no faith left in humanity. The things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done… I’m not sure exactly why, but somedays I just don’t think there is anything good out there. And then I see you. In all my years of working in that hospital, I’ve never seen anyone like you. You work diligently, without skipping a day, although you’ve not slept for nights, and you do what your told, but you follow your gut. You know right and wrong and, better yet, you know people. You have this freaky ability to read body language and the patients love you, because they know you know what they need and what they want. That is what makes you an incredible doctor.”

You just look at him.

“You say you’re not particularly skilled,” He laugh. “That’s bullshit, Y/N. You are one of the best doctors I’ve seen. Hell, you are one of the best people I’ve met. I literally took a punch for you, because you are so worth it.”

“Jinyoung–“

“Don’t do that again,” He asks, stroking his thumb on the palm of your hand. “Tell me things. I want to know them, so I can help you. I know right now seems hard, but you will get through this. I know you will."

“How are you so sure?” You whisper, entranced by this man.

“Because I did,” He smiles. “Five years ago, I worked this same job, at this same place. And I did it; I payed all of my loans back, turned into a pretty good doctor, and dare I say, met you. Things seem pretty fine to me.”

“Oh my god, you are so cringey,” You groan, laughing with him. “Who knew? Intimidating Dr. Park is actually the softest boy.”

“Just for you,” He says and you laugh even harder. “Now why don’t I take you home? You can hopefully get a full eight-hour-sleep if we leave now.”

The ride to your house is silent and comfortable. But that’s all that is– a ride. Jinyoung drops you home, and, after declining your offer for coffee, drives away.

You go to bed confused and lost.

He did say he liked me, right?

————————

“And he left?!” Wheein shouts, banging her fists on the table. “Wah, that man really is heartless…”

“Yah,” You frown. “Don’t say that.”

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to offed your boyfriend,” Wheein laughs and you chuckle with her, eating your lunch in silence.

Jimin looks at you with a little smile, but says nothing, so you nod at him. “You are awfully quiet today.”

“Ah, am I?” He chuckles. “Didn’t notice…”

Wheein elbows you and you look at her, suspicious of your friend. “Spill it, Park.”

“Spill what?” He makes an innocent face but he can’t fool you. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” You ask, resting your face on your hands.

“Like I’m kidding something,” He mumbles and looks to the side.

“Ah!” You shout, pointing at his eyes. “Why’d you look away? What are you hiding?”

“I really hate you and your mind reading abilities,” He groans and hides his face in his arms. “I can’t say.”

“Why not?” You whine, looking at Wheein as she laughs. “We have no secrets among us!”

“Yes we do,” Jimin scoffs. “And this one I really can’t tell.”

“Come on, Jimin-ah,” Wheein begs, curious as well. “Tells us.”

“Nope,” He says and gets up. “Gotta blast.”

“Does this has anything to do with Jinyoung?” You ask, and he flinches a little before running away.

“What was that?” Wheein asks pointing at your friend. “He’s the worst at keeping secrets!”

You shrug and go back to work, waving goodbye as she runs after Dr. Kim Yugyeom with some files that need his signature. Jimin is at his station but he refuses to talk to you, certainly afraid that he will spill the beans. The day goes by slowly like this, and right before you leave, you remember a few papers that need Dr. Park’s signature.

“Jimin,” You call, running to the front desk. “Where is Dr. Park? I need his–“

“Not here,” He says quickly and leaves. “Goodbye, have a goodnight!”

“So fucking weird,” You mumble watching him speed walk to Ms. Lee’s room.

You leave the papers in the front desk with a post-it note and decide to call it for the day, thankful that you are out on time and that you won’t be late for your shift at the bar. You are on the elevator when you pull your phone, ready to text Jisung but surprised to see that he texted you first.

I won’t be at work today. Just you ;)

You swear you almost have a heart attack.

What the fuck do you mean it’s just me? Jisung, I can’t take care of the bar by myself!

We’re not opening tonight, chill. I just need you to check inventory and you’re done.

Why can’t he do that? You sigh, knowing that you can get that done within the hour and then go home and rest.

Okay.

You get to the bar already exhausted and you drop your bag in the door, taking a second to breath. You admit, you loved this place. The wooden tables and counter, the atmosphere, the freedom. You’ll miss it when it’s gone. You feel so natural in there, not having to hide anything from anyone. You feel comfortable, even though sometimes you have some trouble.

Is this why Jinyoung comes here every night?, you wonder, walking to the counter to check the bottles. Is he looking for comfort, too?

You are halfway through inventory when you hear the chimes of the door. Knowing that Jisung was probably on the seventh heaven with his boyfriend right now, you make your way to the front, shouting as you walk.

“Sorry, we’re not open tonight!”

“Not even for me?”

You look up to Jinyoung, not exactly surprised, but still impressed. He looked flawless, in jeans and a jumper. His hair, ruffled by the wind outside, covered his eyes a bit and you smile, thinking he looks adorable in his glasses.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, walking to him. “You weren’t at the hospital…”

“I had a consultation at the penitentiary,” He sighs, and his shoulders drop at the confession. You feel the stress coming out of him, and you grab his hand, hoping that maybe some human touch is exactly what he needs. “But I wanted to see you.”

“Hello, then,” You smile bright. “Want a drink?”

“Thought you were closed?” He teases, sitting on his usual stool nonetheless. You laugh and walk behind the counter, and everything feels oddly familiar.

“I’ll make an exception for you, kind sir,” You joke. “You did help me even without knowing me…”

“Ah, I was wondering if you recognized me from that night,” He smiles and that is all you needed. “I hated seeing that man grabbing you like that, to be honest.”

“Why? Were you already so in love with me that you got– Hey, where are you going?!” You laugh as he rolls his eyes and pretends to leave the room. He comes back when you ask him to, grabbing his cup and your hand in the process. “I missed you today.”

“Yeah?” He asks shyly, blushing a bit as you lean over the counter, face really close to his. “Missed you, too…”

“Jinyoung,” You groan. “When will you kiss me?”

You think he chokes on his drink and once you reach over to tap him on his back, he pulls you by the wrist, covering your mouth with his. You can’t help but chuckle at this man; he always looks so demanding and stern in the hospital, but his kiss is nothing short of shy and gentle. He takes his time, and your neck even hurts a bit after he pulls away, but it’s oh so worth it.

“There,” He ‘tsk’s’ and takes another sip. “Happy? I was planning something more romantic, but you are just too impatient.”

“Oh shut up,” You hit his arm lightly. “It was visible how much you wanted to kiss me.”

“Okay, this can’t do,” He gets up and goes behind the counter, caging you in between his arms. “Y/N, this won’t work like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“For this,” He motions in between you two. “To work, you need to stop reading me.”

At that, you laugh, throwing your head back and wheezing. “It’s not something I chose to do!”

“I want to surprise you at leas once!” He whines.

“Oh,” You gasp, looking at his pouting lips. “Is big bad doctor whining?”

“Stop teasing me!” He begs, hiding his face on your neck. “I’m not good with these things.”

“Oh, I think you’re great,” You say, kissing him once more. “The best, really.”

“I hate you,” He groans, lips finding yours again.

Jinyoung pulls you closer, sitting you on top of the counter and finding a place in between your legs as he kisses you like there is no tomorrow. Now, he is much more firm then he was before, and you can’t hide your excitement, grabbing his neck and hair and pulling him closer.

“We need to stop,” He murmurs on your lips. “Seriously, I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself if we keep going.”

“Behave yourself, we’re at my work place,” You laugh and, pecking his lips one last time, jump out of the counter. “I still have some stuff to do, but you can go home if you want.”

Jinyoung shakes his head. “No way, I’m dropping you home after this. Jisung said he can’t come pick you up and I don’t like you walking home by yourself at night.”

“Jisung? Since when you guys talk?”

“Since I needed to find out when you’d get here,” Jinyoung smiles mischievously and he looks so young and carefree that you don’t dare to tease him, afraid that he’ll close himself off again. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did,” You smile. “Is that why Jimin was acting weird all day?”

“Ah, that boy can’t keep a secret for his life,” Jinyoung sighs. “Poor him, I bet you and Wheein interrogated him.”

“You bet we did, he was acting so weird!”

The banter occupies most of your time and soon enough you find yourself home, on your bed, with Jinyoung’s arms wrapped around you. The comfort is unlike anything you’ve felt before and you snuggle closer to him, happy at last.

As sleep caught up to you, you couldn’t help but think how excited you were for work tomorrow, when you’d finally have someone to pick you up, too.

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

Hello lovelies! As promised, here is the update of the week! Jinyoung’s turn <3 This was so much fun to write, although I will admit, it’s been the hardest one so far. What do you think? Let me know in the comments :P Love you all and thank you for the constant support <3

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jumpboy-rembrandt · 6 years

Text

Rule of Threes

[a metafic about remmy rembrandt]

Nadiya thinks he’s a failure.

That isn’t even his imagination acting up; she said as much the first time they met. Rembrandt? You mean Christopher Rembrandt, the man who gave up a spot in the Olympics and then embarrassed himself on national television? Tragic.

Even though she isn’t his brother – she’s barely his friend – it melts down the back of his throat and coats his lungs, and the disappointment bounces around his head like the rubber balls he and Elijah used to hoard from the arcade down the road. Dump them out and watch them bounce, bounce, bounce across the kitchen.

Remmy liked to think of himself as a cool kid. He could do a backflip better than anyone else in his grade – taking gymnastics since age seven would do that – and he could kick anyone’s butt at Pokémon.

Simon Lawson didn’t think he was cool, though. Simon played hockey with his friends in the culdesac and read lots of books about space. One time he nudged a thick novel about Martian colonies into the aisle as Remmy was walking past, making him trip and spill his lunch tray. Simon though Remmy was weird, and Remmy’s friends thought Simon was a jerk.

Remmy didn’t really mind, though. He lived across the street from Simon and remembers when Mr. Lawson got offended about Remmy’s parents inviting Simon to come to gymnastics practice. Apparently, no one had ever told Mr. Lawson that boys were allowed to do gymnastics, and he got really upset when he was told otherwise.

It wasn’t Simon’s fault that his dad was so emotional. That’s why Remmy just sat up, scooped whatever he could back onto his tray, and turned to Simon with a sheepish grin to apologize for stepping on his book. Simon smirked at his friends, but Remmy knew that Simon snuck into his backyard sometimes to play on his trampoline. Maybe one day Remmy will come outside too and show him how to do a flip.

People aren’t mean for no reason. Sometimes you just need to figure that reason out, and be as nice as you can in the meantime.

That’s why Remmy knew that Nadiya wasn’t a bad person, and someday soon he’s going to find her trampoline.

One time in fourth grade, Remmy rode the swing until he got as high as he could and jumped. He went clear over Rosa’s head and hit the ground running, stumbling, falling into a puddle. The cold mud seeping through his clothes barely registered. He was giddy from his two seconds of weightlessness, flying through the air like a superhero.

When Remmy got accepted onto the Olympic team, it was just as euphoric. He felt like he was flying, flying, flying—

You don’t always land in a muddy puddle. Sometimes there’s just gravel that digs into your knees and leaves jagged scars.

He still could’ve competed. Some say that he should’ve. He’d been working towards this for the past decade, ever since he ran into the gymnastics building clutching his dad’s hand and bouncing with excitement.

That’s what it came down to, though, wasn’t it? His dad wasn’t there to squeeze his hand before he walked onto the mats, and his mom wasn’t there to wave her neon posterboard signs and annoy the people sitting behind her.

He needed his family. He needed to sit up with Eli until the early hours of the morning, flipping through photo albums and watching American Ninja Warrior and learning how to make pancakes with the shapes drawn on them like their mother used to. He needed to cry and scream and let himself be upset like he never could around anyone else.

He needed his big brother. And his big brother needed him.

Years passed, and it got a little easier. He and Eli had big dreams shaped like warped walls and salmon ladders, and they dedicated themselves to bringing those dreams to life.

It was like they were kids again, crafting an excess of obstacles in their backyard and daring each other to do it again, but faster. Their backyard turned into a studio, and their rotting tree branches into balance beams, and Remmy could almost forget that 2008 had ever happened.

Yet, some reminders of adulthood were louder – and sweeter – than others.

Remmy adores his nephew. Little Robin Rembrandt is the apple of his eye and he makes sure the kid knows it every day.

He remembers the night Robin was born, and how he got to be the first person to hold him right after Eli and his girlfriend, and how elated he was when Robin made soft, sleepy noises at him.

He also remembers sitting in the hallway with Eli afterwards, rubbing circles into his big brother’s back as he sobbed. Whenever he and Eli had complained that their parents were being embarrassing, mom and dad would reassure them that they were going to be even worse about embarrassing their grandchildren.

It felt wrong to be sitting in the maternity ward without their parents showering Eli in kisses and burying Robin under piles of stuffed toys. So, so many years had passed, but at times like this, it stung like it had only been days.

Remmy introduces himself to the interviewer for the Do Good Fellowship. She perks up and says that she recognizes his name. Wasn’t he in the Olympics a few years back? Remmy manages a small smile.

“Almost,” he says. She raises an eyebrow.

“Miss a qualifying round?” she asks, and for a second Remmy is so, so tempted to say yes.

“Dropped out,” he tells her with a shrug. She raises her other eyebrow.

“…Interesting,” she says, scribbling something in the margin of her notebook. “Well, I hope you won’t pass up this opportunity too.” Remmy composes himself before she looks back up, relaxing his grit teeth and blinking frustrated tears from his eyes.

“Me too,” he says.

Remmy smiled and laughed during the interviews, shook hands and congratulated his competitors, and then went back to his car and cried until he began retching.

At least for the Olympics he hadn’t shown up. At least for the Olympics he had an excuse. At least for the Olympics he had been able to go home and hug his brother and cry and cry and cry.

Right now, he wasn’t sure Elijah would even look him in the eye.

That wasn’t true, and he logically knew it wasn’t true, but every other part of him was getting weighed down by the thick sheets of disappointment and failure that squeezed his lungs until he couldn’t breathe and shut down every thought in his brain.

Elijah found him sitting in a Dairy Queen parking lot, curled up in the back seat and surrounded by empty wrappers. He crawled in next to his little brother and held him and told him that they were going to be okay, that they could figure this out. Remmy just nodded into his chest, silent tears still rolling down his face.

It was a few weeks and several job interviews before he let himself play with Robin again. Elijah had been through enough, and Remmy had been supposed to be his big break. He was going to make it up to him. He had to.

Irene asks what his favorite movie is. Remmy thinks about the late nights he stayed up watching Stick It, crying into a bowl of dry cereal and wishing that his story could’ve gotten a happy ending.

“It’s actually Flubber, which is weird,” he replies with a painted-on grin.

“That is so strange,” Irene tells him, smiling back. She seems scared, though. He hopes she thinks that’s why he’s shaking too.

The Fellowship was going to be his happy ending. After this, he wouldn’t need anymore graveyard shifts or long commutes, just living on site and fixing computers for the world’s best and brightest. He would earn enough money to pay for the gym, to pay Eli’s rent, to get Robin into a nice school.

This was it. Sure, they seemed awfully interested in his gymnastic background. Yeah, he seemed stuck with a person who hated him for reasons beyond his understanding. And of course, not all of his coworkers were nice.

One time, Remmy’s coworker at one of many part-time jobs said something snarky about the rainbow bracelet he was wearing. Remmy twisted it around his wrist and grinned sheepishly, explaining that he got it from a parade he went to in Chicago a few years back. The coworker snorted and made eye contact with his friend over Remmy’s shoulder.

People aren’t mean for no reason, but sometimes that reason is bullshit.

So when Nadiya eviscerates Jamie, he has to bite back a laugh. It may not be his style, but listening to the string of threats backed by Walking On Sunshine wasn’t a wholly unpleasant experience.

Unfortunately, some coworkers ran a little darker than Jamie.

He failed out of the Olympics. He failed out of American Ninja Warrior. And now…rule of threes, baby.

Remmy had thought he could avoid this by dropping gymnastics – there couldn’t be a third failure if he retired to computers. But, alas, life had it out for him and now so does the Do Good Fellowship.

He stared through the windshield. Kardala’s hair was brushing his face from where she was collapsed against his shoulder, sleeping soundly. Nadiya was driving, arguing with Mary in the passenger seat about the nearest restaurant.

Was this a failure? The usual rush of tears hadn’t hit him yet. He felt empty, ethereal, floating slightly out of his body. He focused on the hair brushing across his nose, grounding himself, and trying not to sneeze into the goddess’s hair.

The first time, Remmy lost his parents and gymnastics – the sport they supported him through for more than half his life – in a few disastrous days. The second, he nearly destroyed his relationship with his brother at the hands of the activity they cherished. And this time…

Well.

His powers definitely caused a predicament, but he still had them. And, to be honest, the loss of the Fellowship didn’t really hit him too hard. Maybe this wasn’t a failure. Or, maybe he’s just become numb to the feelings of guilt and disappointment.

The arguing in the front seat reaches a crescendo and Kardala wakes up long enough to shout that they will go to “wherever the orange one wants, now let me sleep or you will both regret it dearly.” A smile twitches across Remmy’s face. Oh. That makes sense.

The Fellowship may have given him powers, but they don’t tie him to an organization. They connect him to people, to Nadiya and Irene and Kardala and Mary Sage. The ‘Berg may be gone, and it’s possible they’re on a watchlist, but he still has the four of them.

He sure would like a fifth, though.

Remmy taps the center console, interrupting the icy silence between the girls.

“Mary, I know you’ve got a burner phone. Can I borrow it?” he asks. “I really need to call my brother.

#um.#i have feelings about remmy rembrandt? sue me. it's birdie's fault for the playlist.#barely edited #update: has been edited #remmy #fic #text

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lyricalt · 7 years

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[ovw] damned if you do

Rating: T Ship: McGenji Note: Quick warm up, since god knows i haven’t been able to finish anything lately. So, uhh…. Oni Genji/Incubus McCree, based off of McCree’s demon design here. I didn’t have it in me to mention the piercings though. Forgive me. For everything.

McCree doesn’t think too much about humans, but the one he’s snagged up for the night is interesting enough. A sharp smile, clever gray eyes, and a boisterous laugh does a lot to spice up the same staple of mortal souls McCree’s been feeding on since his demonic existence. The brighter the spirit, the fuller he’ll feel, and McCree’s already got his tongue running down one side of Genji’s neck in anticipation.

Genji makes a pleased noise, soft breath playing over McCree’s cheek. He lowers himself down, willingly pressing himself into the cold linens. Outside, the motel is still bustling and loud with a multitude of other evils, too seedy and wretched to completely hide with pretty promises. McCree thinks the place still has its charms, but he’s a little surprised he’s manage to rope in someone so bright-eyed as Genji into a tiny room that stinks of smoke and drugs and decay.

Right now though, Genji looks like a full course meal, laying in the bed with the most delightful, hopeful grin. He loops his arms around McCree’s shoulder, throwing one leg around his waist to reel in him. His soul smells like lust and a little like wrath. He’s going to be delicious.

McCree can’t resist taking a peek to see just exactly what kind of soul he’ll be feeding on. He hovers over Genji, hungry smirk not quite hiding behind its literal meaning. Humans can only see one out of the seven planes of existence, and McCree’s mortal disguise doesn’t so much as flicker as he checks the higher planes. Genji’s soul shines luminescent up until the fourth plane, and then McCree’s vision starts to blur.

McCree pauses. His mortal disguise only goes up to the fourth plane, mostly out of habit. Dredging up a human form for higher levels would be a waste of energy, especially only for a session of feeding.

“Let me take a good look at you, kitten,” McCree says, easing back. Both his hands and knees are on either side of Genji’s body. He doesn’t touch anymore than that, and it gives him the excuse to stare down and check all seven planes of existence.

Humans are human on all seven dimensions. Genji, on the fifth plane, fumes out darkness and tendrils. On the sixth, McCree finds out he’s hovering over an oni with bulging eyes and a gaping maw.

A second of horrified silence sinks between them before McCree reels away and Genji scrambles backwards, bedsheets scorching.

“Incubus!” Genji exclaims, sounding dismayed. He had seen McCree’s true form the moment McCree peeked into the sixth plane. His stretched out mouth rearranges itself into a grimace, oddly reminiscent of his pretty human form.

McCree isn’t too pleased himself, but Genji has the bearing of a higher demon with what markings McCree had picked up on during his brief glance. Probably some minor prince of a house in Hell or Yokai realm. It likely meant Genji might be harboring a hell of a temper beneath his playful veneer.

Not that it matters, as Genji’s actions as a human had been all a ploy, and McCree knows well enough to mind his sirs and sorrys when it comes to demons more powerful than him.

“I should warn you, I don’t taste very good,” McCree says, half-teasing, half-wary. His soul and body are too thoroughly corrupt to eat, even for a higher demon such as Genji. Supposedly. One could never tell these days. “My mistake.”

Genji laughs and the sound is harsh, though McCree thinks it’s not directed at him. Demonic laughter isn’t a noise that’s known to be soothing.

“I truly wish I could say this was all part of my plan to devour you, but you are correct. You’d taste horrid,” Genji says, shrugging. His backed up position against the headboard relaxes as he sits up, crossed-legged. Propping his chin into one hand, he leans forward to regard McCree with a different kind of interest, more critical now than the flirtatious gaze he’d been aiming at McCree just an hour ago. His open shirt shifts, bearing the long marks down his chest where McCree had dug his fingers into, throat showing reddened splotches.

McCree gives them a brief look, exasperated by the loss. He had expended more magic than he should have, using glamour and charms to lure Genji—all of them useless in the end, which explains why McCree had initially thought Genji to be strangely resilient at first. Resilient yet receptive on his own terms. McCree should have figured it out sooner, but the guise of a playful rich boy looking for trouble makes a tempting target for human predators looking to take advantage. Genji would have had no trouble finding a meal.

“Shame about that,” McCree agrees, hunger biting at him at the thought of food. He can only go on for so long, feeding off the fumes of lust. He checks back a sigh.

The oni’s disguise is impressive, but at this point it’s a waste of magic. McCree drops his own charms and smiles, peeling back his human disguise. Smoke leaks from his body, crumpling in favor of his true form of scales and fire. Aside from conserving energy, it’s the polite thing to do, especially after trying to seduce a fellow demon. Honest mistake, really, but still awkward and uncomfortable, like trying to sell a coworker the exact same terrible product you both knew was shit.

Genji glances at him, apparently finding McCree’s demonic form unnoteworthy, and also shifts. His flashy clubbing clothes melts away into dark-fitted robes, face coagulating into the rounded eyes and grinning maw with fangs McCree had seen earlier. He pauses, putting his hand to his face, the claws against his skin tapping delicate like porcelain. That, too, is another mask, and Genji pulls it off, revealing a second scarred face, red gleaming eyes, and budding sharp horns at both sides of his forehead. It’s strangely more humanized, and McCree suspects some unfortunate human blood within Genji’s creation.

And in place of Genji’s soul is a black void, teaming with wrathful misery. McCree inwardly steps away. He’d almost eaten that.

“I suspect the cowboy act was all a ruse?” Genji asks, curious.

McCree barks out a laugh. Peculiar human culture sometimes snags at McCree. He can’t help up but pick up a few habits, but he’s not going to tell Genji that.

“Sure is, sweetheart. But, if it pleases—” He snaps his fingers, cowboy hat appearing above his horns, and deepens his accent, “—I’ll keep it up for ya.”

Genji snorts, but the gesture seems to mollify him. “I was only wondering how you manage to seduce any human with that act.”

McCree bristles. He does have charms and glamour spells. A demon not taking advantage of their magic is a high insult.

“Managed to get you, didn’t I?” he says with a sickly sweet smile.

“Only because it was so strange,” Genji says mildly, though he gives McCree a dark look at his saccharine tone. The smoky tendrils around his form jump, restless. Genji is likely hungry himself and annoyed about missing out on a meal. “For what it’s worth you were charming, all on your own.”

McCree grunts. He’d be a shit incubus he couldn’t be. “Work is work.”

“There it is. You are much less charming now.”

“Yeah, well,” McCree says, suddenly weary. “You seem to like playing with your food. Not saying that it’s a bad thing, but I don’t have a choice. I gotta fool around. Real fuckin’ hassle, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t,” Genji offers.

McCree rolls his eyes. He can sense a dismissal when he hears it. “Beg pardon, but I haven’t fed in a week. I’m famished.”

Genji blinks in surprise. “Can you not feed off my lust? I’m sure I must be emitting some.”

“No, that’s your need to manipulate people, not lust,” McCree says, taking his cue to hop off the bed while leaving Genji to sit on that for a moment.

He shimmies back into his human disguise, a little scruffier than the one he’d worn previously, but he’s running low on fumes and he’s sure there’ll be easy pickings around the motel. Devil knows he can hear a couple going at it next door already. He can maybe join in, throw two down with one stone, even if they don’t smell quite as enticing as Genji had. At least he’ll be fresh for at least a couple of weeks.

As McCree turns to the door, Genji blinks right in front of him. It would have given any human a heart attack, but for McCree it’s just another Friday night in Hell. He gets one hand on the door in any case, showing that he does really intend to leave in one piece.

“Oh, come on. You’re a demon. You can’t be offended about being an asshole,” McCree complains.

“I will take it as a compliment,” Genji says wryly. His oni mask is back in place. “Are you intending to feed off the pair next door?”

McCree leers. It’s less seductive and more mocking. “Why? You wanna watch?”

“Not particularly,” Genji says, snapping his fingers. The knob under McCree’s hand turns, swinging the door open. “But if you don’t plan to kill them, I have use for the bodies.”

McCree grudgingly lets Genji pass through first. “Oh. You’re one of them flesh-eating types, aren’t you?”

Genji laughs, quietly, and his voice is muffled beneath the mask. On the first plane, he looks like the rich playboy brat he came in as. Anyone watching would only see a charmingly mussed up man press against his latest fuck, but as he leans in, McCree feels Genji’s aura spike with every scrap of disdain for both humanity and the supernatural.

“I can eat anything,” Genji murmurs into the corner of McCree’s mouth.

A shudder of dark energy washes of them, overpowering scent worming into the back of McCree’s throat. It’s not exactly unpleasant, but it’s not good, or meant to lure him in. It might just be the way Genji’s aura works. McCree stumbles back, one hand braced against Genji’s shoulder to hold him away. It’s another human gesture, and he hates how Genji’s glances at his outstretched arm, like he knows how much it gives McCree away.

“I wasn’t lying before. You really were charming without your spells working on me,” Genji continues, easing away. He shrugs back his aura, reeling it in with a brief snap of willpower. The grin on his mask seems to magnify by the hundred. “I would have eaten you, truly.”

For some awful reason, the statement makes McCree embarrassed, more so than the first time Genji admitted the same thing.

“I’ll leave the bodies in the room when I’m done with them,” he says instead, dropping his hand.

“Please do,” Genji says, melting away into the shadows, and leaves McCree to knock on their next door neighbors himself.

#mcgenji #genji shimada #jesse mccree #oni genji #overwatch

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