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multific · 5 months

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It Started with Some Questions

Simon Riley x Reader

Warnings: sexual innuendos, mention of blood, being shot

Summary: You were good at your job. Being a lawyer to an infamous mob boss had its ups and downs. Especially when you are being questioned by two very good-looking men.

"We just have a couple of questions. So, where's your boss?" the one with the cute Scottish accent sat down across you.

You let out a sigh.

"I told you, I'm only his lawyer."

"Then where's your laptop?" he asked and you smirked.

"In my panties."

After a few seconds of complete silence, he spoke up again.

"Look, Lady, we don't have any time to play games! Either you tell me, or he will take over." he pointed at the other man.

"Lady? I hoped you would call me your good girl..." the man in front of you punched the table before he left and his friend sat down. "Now, we are in business. I have a thing for masks."

"Tell me what we need to know or I will start breaking your fingers." his tone was serious but he didn't scare you.

"I have a better idea. I tell your friend when my laptop is, and while he is looking for it, we can have some fun alone." you smiled. Even if he was wearing a mask, you saw him frown.

"Stop messing with us! Tell us where he is."

"I don't know where he is. When he realized you guys were here, they hit me in the head, left me behind and fled. I'm not aware of any other safe-houses he has."

"Must be angry if they left you here."

"I am. I would give him to you on a silver plate, Handsome, but at the moment I'm too wet to think." he knotted his eyebrows and looked at your clothes. "Lower." you whispered and his eyes snapped down at your crossed, legs. "Bingo." when you said that he immediately looked away.

"Fuckin' hell." you heard him say.

You looked at the one called Soap.

"The laptop is in the safe, the code is 789653210123, there is a gun in there if you open the safe, it will shoot you, but if you open it a little you will find a button, push the button and the gun won't fire. I'll give you the laptop password once you have it." you then looked back at the masked man. "I'm not giving up on the fact that you will bend me over this desk and fuck me until I can't even stand! But I need you to kill Mr Givonassi in my name."

His friend soon came back with the laptop, you gave them the info and soon, they left, leaving you tied to the chair as you were before.

You tried to escape but the rope was too tight. Soon, a man arrived, said his name was Gaz.

He took you to a secret place. So secret, they covered your eyes.

Then, you were in a room, it had a bed, a table and an attached bathroom.

Like a prison cell.

You didn't had delusions of them letting you go.

Then a man entered.

It was your masked interrogator from before. This time, he only had a mask up until his nose. His eyes had dark make up around them and he had a hoodie on.

You sat on the bed and he sat on the chair.

"If you are here to scare me, I suggest you don't. Let's skip to the good part."

"Are you always like this? Is everything a joke to you?"

"Of course not. I would never joked about getting dicked down." your tone and face were so serious, he let out a sigh.

"We didn't find him. They blocked your access. You need to tell me what you know."

"Are there cameras in this room?" you asked and he shook his head.

"No."

"Shame... I guess your friends would have to see you naked, which is a win."

"For fuck's sake!" Simon stood up to leave but you stopped him.

"He has a wife. He hid her very well, but I saw a paper of their marriage. It had an address."

"What's the address?"

"Oh, that will take some... work to make me remember. I would say about... four orgasms... yeah that will work."

"I'm not going to touch you."

"You are no fun Mr Riley." you frowned, he quickly stood up and walked over to you, he grabbed your neck and pulled you up. "Chocking huh?"

"How the fuck do you know my name?!"

"I'm not stupid. Everyone thinks I'm some bimbo but I listen and learn!" you pushed him away from you and he let you go, standing in front of you. "This fucker knocked me out and left me behind, he thought I was... some dead-weight. But he is wrong. I might flirt, I might say inappropriate things, but one thing I am not, I'm not stupid, Simon. And now that I have your attention, I can give you all the info I know."

"What do you want in exchange?" you smirked. "Don't say my cock." it made you roll your eyes.

"You are no fun. Would your friend be interested in any? Or your Captain?" he was about to answer but you slapped him across the cheek. Simon was so stunned he looked back at you in disbelief. "DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME A SLUT!"

Then, suddenly, Simon understood.

He understood that this was your way of surviving for so long working for a man like that. Being vulgar and flirty made you survive and he saw it now.

He saw how scared you were, he saw the tears behind your eyes he saw the way your hand was shaking.

And Simon even saw himself in you. His childhood self, a scared little child.

"Sorry." is what he said and you turned and went to the bathroom.

Five minutes passed, Simon just sat on the bed, looking at his hands when you exited and sat on the chair.

He saw the redness in your eyes. He saw the tears still in them.

"What do you want in exchange for the info?"

"Protection from him and his men. And I don't want some random man. I want you to protect me."

"I can't do that. I have a man to hunt down."

"I won't tell you anything then." you never once looked into his eyes, you looked, sad.

You dropped the act.

"Then we just let you go and he finds you."

"You think pushing me into a corner is going to scare me? Givonassi is a powerful man. If he realizes I'm alive, he will send someone to kill me. I have some info on him so I can blackmail him, but again, he would just kill me."

"So?"

"So, I have nowhere to go. You pushed me into a corner."

"So, tell me what you know."

"I know about Tommy, Beth and Joseph. I also know about Captain Price's lovely wifey. I know about Kyle's husband and Johnny's little son." you saw his fist clench. "So, I suppose we have an agreement."

"How can you possibly know all this?"

"I listen. Unlike you Simon, I listen and remember everything I'm told. I told you, I want protection. Until the day I see Givonassi's head in a jar."

Simon let out a long sigh.

"Go talk with whoever you have to. Oh, and before you think you can just move all those people, family around... I know about the summer homes. I know about the safe-houses. I know about every trick. I give you Givonassi on a silver plate in exchange for you."

"Fair enough." he said before he stood up and left the room.

---

Simon was beginning to be a lot more fidgety.

He couldn't sit still.

Knowing his team was hot in the tails of Givonassi, he wanted to be there... but he was stuck babysitting you.

And you could see his frustration.

He only spent a week with you and yet he was already ready to barge out of the apartment that was given to you for the time being.

"Am I really that bad of a roommate?" you asked and he looked at you from his phone. "You look desperate to run out of here."

"I want to help my Team." was his answer, simple, yet it was the truth.

"Go on then."

"What?"

"Go and help them." you said.

"That wasn't the agreement."

"Fuck the agreement. I hate being in a room with someone who is basically waiting to barge out at any second. Go help your friends."

Simon hesitated. He wasn't sure if this was a game. But then he looked at you, really looked at you.

"Why?" he asked.

"You are just like them... you can leave me behind to save your ass. I'm not forcing you to stay any longer. I have been trying for a week to get closer to you, but I feel further and further away. Go."

You went into your room, all you heard was the front door closing.

When the information came about Givonassi's death, a team came over and told you that you can go back to your life now.

Little did they know, you had no life.

But you did have an old apartment. So, you headed back there.

Even if Givonassi was dead, you still had this feeling, this uneasiness.

You felt watched and followed.

And your suspicion soon became true.

You went out for groceries when you arrived back, your door was wide open with all of your things scattered.

But who could you call?!

You wanted to run, but as you turned at the end of the hallway a man appeared. You moved just in time, but he did shoot you.

You laid on the ground as you heard him leave.

He hit your shoulder, the pain was terrible.

You started to pass out when another person arrived.

You were sure you wouldn't wake up ever again.

---

But you did. You woke up in a hospital room, the beeping of the machines made your head hurt.

"Don't move." said someone and when you looked, you saw Simon Riley. "You were shot, I found you and took you to the hospital."

Found you? He did? How?

"My head hurts."

"You lost a lot of blood. I'll call the doctor." but you grabbed his shirt, he couldn't leave, he looked at you.

"How did you find me?"

"When I got back from the mission, I was told that they let you go. I was mad because I knew even if Givonassi died, it didn't mean that you were safe. I was looking for you all this time and when I finally found you, I found you in a pool of blood, half dead. This is my fault. You told me you were in danger and yet I ignored you."

"I should say, I told you so, but I don't have any energy. Why are you here?"

"I told you-"

"I know, I mean why did you stay? Do you feel guilty? Don't. I told you to go, because you just couldn't sit still. I understood you had a job to do and I was holding you back. You don't have to feel guilty. You saved many people by getting to Givonassi."

"I still want to make it up to you somehow." you smirked and he rolled his eyes.

"How about coffee?" you said.

"I prefer tea."

"Fucking Britts." you said before the doctor entered the room to finally check on you.

You smiled at Simon as the doctor explained what happened and what they will do.

But at that moment all you could think about was what will happen with you and Simon.

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zepskies · 5 months

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Smoke Eater - Part 14

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

AN: Welcome back! Get ready for some more detective work, a pinch of Jo drama, another fire, and the reader finally meets John Winchester...

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 7,500 Tags/Warnings: Angst, fire hazards, threats, and hurt/comfort.

Part 14: “Message in a Bottle”

A week before Christmas, John Winchester left his house for work before the sun had even risen in the sky. It was still dim when he stepped out onto his porch, which is why he didn’t see it at first.

He heard the clink when his boot kicked at something metallic.

He glanced down and found a small badge lying on the ground. He bent to pick it up, and on further inspection, it was a fire department’s badge. A replica, probably, because it had Dean’s number on it: 20579.

The badge was also splattered with blood.

Later at his office, John handed it over to his partner for his inspection.

“It’s actually paint,” John said. “Forensics looked it over. No prints, of course.”

“That’s a shame,” Cas said. His tone was mild, but his face was as grave as John’s as he considered the crimson-stained badge. They stood together in the bullpen of the 84th Precinct.

“And I got this little present a few days ago,” John admitted quietly. He grabbed a folder off his desk and showed Cas its contents: a picture of Sam leaving the courthouse while talking on his cell, climbing into his car. Someone was watching his sons.

“I already have a police detail on him,” John said, heaving a sigh. “I requested approval for Dean’s this morning.”

Cas’s frown was deepening, along with his furrowed brows. “We may need to ask for backup on this.”

John shook his head. “Rufus won’t give it to us.”

Their esteemed Lieutenant thought John was on a vendetta with a ghost, stirring up a conflict of his own making. He only approved a temporary police detail for Sam, with the condition that John stopped what he was doing, let the Fire Department handle the serial arsonist, and let this blow over.

But Rufus should’ve known better than that by now. This was personal, and John wouldn’t tolerate these yellow-bellied threats to his family.

“Azazel’s applying pressure, hitting your weak spots,” Cas said, perhaps pointing out the obvious.

“So let’s hit him back, goddamn it,” John growled. He threw down the folder back onto his desk.

“How?” Cas asked. “We still don’t know who Azazel is.”

The other man thought hard, rubbing a hand over his mouth, and feeling the overgrown stubble. He didn’t remember the last time he’d shaved.

“How’s your progress on questioning Savage & Co.?” he asked.

“Stalled. Nick Savage has lawyered up,” said Cas.

His face slackened from frustration to realization. He didn’t seem happy about his next idea, but it looked like he had one.

“Though now that I think of it, we may be able to apply some pressure of our own,” he said.

John raised a brow and crossed his arms. “How’s that?”

“Dean’s girlfriend works there, if you remember,” Cas said. “Something happened this past weekend at her company Christmas party.”

John nodded, despite his frown. He was set to meet you in a week, but it looked like they might need to question you before then. What a pleasant first meeting that was going to be.

But if you had anything on Savage, on the company, or even better, if you were willing to wear a wire, that could be the break they needed to get some headway on this case. They could squeeze Savage for any information he might have on Azazel—like his real identity.

“Tell me,” John said.

You returned to work on Monday with steel in your veins (and a taser in your purse).

You had about an hour of peace in your office, catching up on your emails and calls. Then there was a knock on your door before it pushed open without your consent.

Damn it, should’ve locked it. Your lips pursed when Nick Savage came in.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you said firmly. Already you were opening a drawer in your desk, reaching into your purse.

“It’s my goddamn office,” Nick replied lazily. But he crossed his arms and stopped just behind the spare chair that sat in front of your desk. It gave you a good few feet of distance.

You stared back at the man with hidden satisfaction through your disdain. It seemed Dean’s threats got to him.

“Just thought I’d let you know that Josh’s been promoted to Senior Sales Manager,” Nick said. He checked his watch absently.

Your teeth clicked in irritation, but you let it pass. He was just trying to get a rise out of you, and you no longer gave a fuck about this company anyway. What you told Dean before was the truth: you were now here just to collect a paycheck, until you could find a new job.

“Good. He’s been working hard, kissing your ass,” you said with a fake smile. “Now if you don’t mind, I have a lot of work to do.”

Nick made the mistake of taking a half-step forward. Your hand subtly clenched on the weapon in your purse, but you tried your best to seem relaxed. In control of yourself. This was your office that you’d occupied for three years.

This was your space, and this man didn’t control you.

“Take one step forward, and I will quit today,” you threatened. And then you bluffed.

“I’ll call Mr. Greenway,” you said. “In fact, he offered me a job last month. Then I’ll make a few more calls, and I’ll take all of my accounts with me. I’ll kill your fucking sales team and leave Josh to continue sucking your lackluster tequila dick.”

Nick stared back at you with thinly veiled shock. You’d always been “no nonsense,” but you’d never spoken to him like that before. He smirked.

This was why he liked you. And hated you.

“All right,” Nick said. He didn’t come any closer, but he did rest his hands on the back of the chair. “How about I buy out your friend Greenway. His whole damn company. And then I’ll blacklist you with every other company that calls for a reference. Even the ones that don’t call.”

Your eyes widened incredulously. He had the gall to wink at you, boiling your blood.

“I’ll fucking sue you,” you said, hating the slight tremor in your voice.

Nick rolled his eyes. “This again? Please.”

You couldn’t help it. Your temper snapped, and you pushed away from your desk to stand up. You gripped the edge of it to steady yourself. You quirked a humorless smile.

“As it happens, I know a damn good lawyer,” you countered. “He puts murderers in jail every day. I doubt he’d struggle too much with a corporate asshole. And I’ll remind you, Dean’s father is a police officer. I’m sure he’d like nothing better than to lock you up after I report you for what you did. And I will.”

Nick scoffed at that, his eyes narrowing.

“If you take it there, I’ll have every resource at my disposal to make your life a living hell. I’ll drag this out for years. Until you’ve got nothing but your boyfriend’s charity to keep you from living in a fucking box.”

You were seething, trying to stay in control. He knew it too, and he smirked at you. He pushed away from the chair and started to leave.

But then, he tossed you a smug look over his shoulder.

“Just remember,” he said. “You could’ve just spread those legs for me.”

It took everything you had within you not to hurl a stainless steel stapler at the back of his retreating head.

“A double please, Ellen. Dry, lots of olives,” you requested.

After a ridiculously long day at work, you were now trying to let go of your frustrations at the Roadhouse, while you still had the money to drink. You rubbed through the ache in your temples.

“Long day, hun?” Ellen asked you. Her eyes were sympathetic as she made you the martini you ordered. You gave her an attempt at a smile.

“Long life,” you muttered.

“Hmm. Asshole boss?” she surmised.

You met her gaze with a note of suspicion. “Did Dean tell you…”

You knew he’d told his brother about what happened at the Christmas party. And you had a feeling he’d told Cas as well, to try and see what you could do from a law enforcement standpoint. The first step was filing a report. Now you knew, however, that you couldn’t. Not if you wanted your life to remain in one piece.

“Nothing, hun,” Ellen shook her head. “You’ve just got that look. I reckon every woman in the world has worn that face. Usually because of a man.”

You sighed and chuckled at the same time. It loosened some of the tightness in your shoulders.

“Yeah, well. This one’s a rat bastard in human clothing,” you replied.

“Ooh, sounds like my old biology professor,” Jo chimed in. She was drying out some newly clean glasses behind the counter along with Ellen. “He had a reputation for scoping out freshman girls.”

You made a gagging sound as you reached for the delectable martini glass Ellen slid your way.

“Men are disgusting,” you said. Jo snorted.

“99.8% of them, yeah,” she said. But her gaze drew towards the door when Dean Winchester came in. And she added, “A few of ‘em are all right.”

Was it just you, or was there a softer look in her blue eyes when she noticed Dean?

You were soon distracted though, giving your boyfriend a smile to try and cover up how exhausted you were, in every sense of the word. He greeted you with a warm hand along your lower back. He dropped a kiss to your forehead.

“Waiting long?” he asked.

“No, just a few minutes,” you shook your head. You laid a hand on his thigh when he took a seat next to you at the bar. “How was your shift?”

This week he was on three 12-hour shifts instead of his usual 24-hour shifts, which meant you got more of him in the evening.

“Fine. Just a couple of accidents to clear off the road, nothing major,” he replied. He ordered a beer from Ellen and gave Jo a smile. He was surprised to see mother and daughter working civilly together under one roof, after the scene he saw last week.

“How’s the studying going?” he asked Jo, once Ellen was out of earshot to serve further down the line. He turned to you and filled you in. “Jo’s gearin’ up to hit the Police Academy.”

“Oh wow, that’s great!” you remarked.

Jo glanced over at her mom, but then she smiled, looking back at you and Dean. She focused on him.

“The test is in a few weeks,” she said. “I think I’m ready, but I don’t know…”

“You’ll be fine,” Dean said, with easy conviction. “You’re stubborn enough to know it’s what you want. So I got no doubts about you.”

Jo’s smile was warm, with a hint of shy and gratefulness. You smiled at Jo encouragingly, but inside, you had a familiar unease churning inside your gut.

Dean then turned to you with expectant brows. His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, curling it behind your ear.

“And how was your day?” he asked. His tone was quieter, laced with double meaning.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jo moving on to another waiting customer with a small sigh.

You met Dean’s gaze and you nodded. “It was fine.”

His brows rose a touch higher. “Very convincing. You took the taser with you, right?”

You sighed and had to smile a little. His concern warmed you, made you feel protected, even though you’d had to do that part yourself today. You soothed a hand over his chest, between the open panels of his plaid shirt.

“Yes, I did. I’m okay, baby. We’re at a standstill,” you said. And you reminded him, “I can handle myself, you know.”

Dean nodded, sighing through his nose. His hand rubbed up and down your back, whether to comfort you or himself, you didn’t know. Your fingers curled into his shirt, and you smiled up at him, just before you tugged him down for a kiss.

It was slow and sweet, until you became a bit more than sweet, grazing his bottom lip with your teeth. His hand came up to cup the back of your head as he accepted the warmth of your kiss.

You knew that you couldn’t tell Dean what happened this morning in your office. He’d likely go for the Halligan in his trunk and beat Nick Savage within an inch of his life.

While the idea appealed to you for several reasons, you didn’t want to be the reason Dean lost his badge, or ended up in jail.

So over a couple of drinks, you distracted him by having a healthy debate over what you two were going to have for dinner later: sushi or pizza.

You ultimately won with sushi. (Or maybe he let you win. Either way, you were getting salmon rolls tonight.)

Still, you had that uneasy feeling when you and Dean left the bar. You wondered how the hell it had taken you this long to notice the starry look of longing in Jo’s eyes.

You fell into step with Dean as you two headed for the sushi restaurant down the street. It was already dark out, but even on a Tuesday night, the streets and sidewalks of downtown were busy.

“Can I ask you something…potentially uncomfy?” you said.

Dean’s head turned to you, with a raised brow.

“Uncomfy?”

You let out a breath, and you could see it on the December chill in the air. Your hands were tucked into your pockets, and so were Dean’s in his.

“Did you and Jo ever have a thing?” you asked.

Dean blinked, but then his lips pressed together. “What makes you say that?”

You sent him a suspicious look. You’ve known him long enough to know when he’s hedging.

“Just please, answer the question,” you said.

He blew out a breath. After a moment, he nodded.

“Yeah, for a few weeks,” he admitted.

You sighed. That sure explained a hell of a lot. And really, with his track record, you couldn’t be surprised.

“You dated her, or you hooked up with her?” you clarified. Dean shot you a look.

“Dated,” he said, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

Your brows furrowed. “When?”

He’d told you that he’d been in one relationship before, briefly…

“About a few months before I met you,” he said at last. But he saw the incredulous, almost upset look on your face. “Obviously it didn’t work out.”

“You couldn’t have told me that earlier?” you asked. Your hands slipped out of your pockets to gesture at him. “How did it end?”

The man sighed, looking up at the sky.

“Come on, Dean,” you prodded.

“All right,” he placated with a hand. “It didn’t end great, put it that way.”

You couldn’t help a frustrated huff. You crossed your arms and kept walking beside him down the street, albeit in silence.

Dean glanced at you in slight exasperation. He was with you now. Why did it matter to you so much?

“She still has feelings for you,” you said, though you still weren’t looking at him.

“How do you figure?” he asked. But if he was honest, even he knew the truth.

“Because I could see her eyeing you like a honey glazed ham,” you snipped. At that, he let out an incredulous chuckle.

“Are you jealous?” he teased.

You stopped walking and looked up at him, frowning. “Do you want me to be?”

Dean stopped as well. He sobered, realizing you weren’t in the mood for jokes. You’d been through a lot recently, and he knew then that you didn’t need this kind of stress on top of everything else. He drew closer and gently grasped your arms.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. Though he thought to himself, I’ll talk to Jo if I have to.

You sighed in frustration, but he soothed his hands up and down your arms. His touch plied you, along with his smile.

“Hey,” Dean said, dipping his chin so he could catch your eyes. “You should know how I feel about you by now.”

You sighed and nodded in agreement. He wasn’t satisfied.

“Okay,” he said, squeezing your arms and earning your eyes on him. It took him a moment, letting out a breath, but he was honest.

“I love you," he reminded. "And if that damn elevator hadn’t broke down on you, I’d still be missing something.”

…Damn it, you thought, even as a blushing smile grew across your face. Dean Winchester was too smooth for his own good.

But you also saw the sincerity in his eyes. You couldn’t help but be warmed by his words, down to your toes.

“There she is. All right,” he said with a grin. He nodded in satisfaction and gathered you into his arms. “My soft girl again.”

Your smile deepened, but you still pinched his side, making him flinch and laugh. You held him back and looked up at his handsome face. He still looked amused and his eyes were warm. You leaned up on your toes for a kiss that lingered on wind-chilled lips.

“I love you,” you whispered back, against his lips.

His smile against yours was your answer.

Two hours and two salmon rolls later, Dean drove you home. You had taken an Uber to the Roadhouse, which reminded him that he needed to make another trip to Singer Salvage.

He’d been scoping out potential cars to fix up for you. He’d even recruited Bobby’s help to find something good, something with strong bones. Dean could do the rest.

Even after he watched you get inside your house safely, he let out a subtle breath before he peeled away. He wished you were coming home with him tonight. More often, he was feeling your absence when you weren’t in his bed. But it also reassured him, that he knew you were safe with him and Sam at their apartment.

He later found his brother eating leftover chicken parmesan at the kitchen counter.

“Why’re you eating standing up?” Dean asked, tossing his keys onto the counter. He reached into the fridge for a beer. “You look like Big Bird if he wore a suit.”

Sam sent him a dry look. “I don’t know. Force of habit.”

He barely had time in his day for an uninterrupted coffee, let alone a meal. When Dean wasn’t here, Sam fell back onto his work habits. He took his plate and actually went to the table.

“You eat already?” he asked. Dean nodded and said he’d eaten with you.

“Oh yeah? How’s she doing?” Sam asked.

Dean sighed and sank down heavily onto the chair opposite his brother. He rubbed at his forehead.

“She’s okay, considering,” he replied. But he knew you hadn’t told him the whole story about how your day went at work. Whether you were trying to spare him, or protect him, or yourself, it still drove him up the wall. Knowing Nick Savage was still your boss, and he was there, an ever-present threat just a few floors above you in that building…

It made Dean’s skin crawl. It had his teeth grinding and coiled his spine tight with repressed rage. And worry.

He met his brother’s eyes. Sam had been watching him, hiding his wariness.

“What can we do about him?” Dean asked. He knew he didn’t have to explain who he was talking about.

Sam started to shake his head, but Dean wouldn’t have it.

“I mean it, Sam. Because I almost…” His hand and forearm clenched and unclenched on the table. He could almost feel the way his arm had pressed into Nick’s throat, slowly but surely crushing his trachea. Just a couple of minutes more, and Dean could’ve done it. In that moment, he saw it so clearly.

It was the first time he’d ever wanted to take a man’s life.

“I know,” Sam said. His brows furrowed in sympathy. “But you did the right thing.”

Dean’s lips pursed as his hand once again fisted on the table.

“If I hadn’t been there,” he said. “If I had been just a few minutes off…”

These were the what ifs that kept plaguing his mind, ever since the party. Sometimes, it added to the catalogue of waking nightmares that wouldn’t let him sleep.

“And now she’s gotta go back there, every day, where that animal is just waiting for an opportunity,” Dean gritted out. Then his fist dropped more heavily onto the table, rattling Sam’s silverware.

Sam held the table steady and looked at his brother, calm but firm.

“You can’t touch Savage,” he said. “Don’t even go near him. Whatever you do, he’ll use it against you, and potentially against her. Unfortunately, she’s got the best plan right now.”

Dean looked up at him with angry eyes.

“Wait him out,” Sam said, “until he makes a mistake he can’t easily cover up. In the meantime, she’ll find a new job and get the hell out of there.”

Dean forced a sharp breath through his nose. He leaned back in his chair and tapped his fist more calmly on the table.

“I don’t have to like it,” he said.

Sam nodded in agreement. “No, you don’t.”

The fire was wild. It was eating up the four-story apartment building in a full blaze. The Truck 79 team was geared up outside of it, with Chief Singer already calling out instructions along with Dean.

Benny and the Rescue Squad were already on the roof, rappelling down to get the ones trapped on the top floors out through the windows. Dean was on the ground. He had Gordon, Jack, and a few others behind him. Meg and Chuck were on standby, waiting for the firefighters to pull out any residents still trapped inside.

Dean had to wonder if he was walking into another arson, like the Richardson fire. Against his will, he thought of that day. He thought about everything his father had told him about that arson, about Azazel and his mom’s death. He thought about you, working for a man who was potentially tied to Azazel.

“Winchester,” Gordon tapped him on the arm. “You good?”

Dean glanced over at him, then nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s rock and roll.”

When Dean was at work, he couldn’t let the outside world into his mind. All he could let himself focus on was the scene ahead after he put his mask on.

Inside the first floor of the building was like entering a living furnace. It was hot as shit, and layers of smoke choked the room. The mask was the only reason Dean could see, let alone breathe.

He turned to Jack. “All right, take it room by room. Stay close. We don’t got a lot of time.”

Jack nodded his agreement, and Dean split his team. A few of the others took the first floor on his orders. Dean, Gordon, and Jack would take the old stairs to clear the second floor.

Fuck. This whole place is just wood and plaster, Dean thought, shaking his head. These old buildings were all the same. Easy to build, easy to knock down. And usually they weren’t up to code, often thanks to cheap property owners.

He got apartment 201 open with his Halligan. The shoebox studio was smokey as all hell, but it was clear of any tenants. Gordon moved on ahead quickly, but Dean’s brows furrowed as he listened to the unsteady creaking of the floorboards. He moved more carefully forward.

Until he felt the warmth under his boots, saw the orange glow underneath a thin patch of flooring.

“Walker, wait!” Dean called, at the same time he held Jack back.

He reached out, just as the wood floor splintered and broke underneath Gordon. His eyes flashed wide just before he fell.

Dean dove for him. His Halligan clattered away, but he managed to grab onto the man’s sleeve before he disappeared. Gordon grabbed onto Dean’s arm and nearly pulled him down too. Luckily, he managed to grab onto the splintered edge with his other glove-covered hand. He gritted his teeth at the strain of the other man hanging off his shoulder, but he didn’t dare let go.

Jack grabbed Dean’s belt to keep him from sliding further down. It let him grab onto Gordon with both hands. The men panted for breath; Dean had a better vantage point to see that the middle of the ground floor below was engulfed in flames. The glow of it flared in the corner of Gordon’s eyes. He could feel the heat making both of them sweat.

The wood flooring under Dean creaked ominously, but before anyone could move, it broke further. He almost lost his grip on Gordon as his torso hung over the edge. He managed to get a new stronghold under the other man’s arm, and Jack did his best to keep Dean from falling by pinning his legs down. Jack was strong, but he was still a smaller man than Dean.

“Jack, call for backup!” Dean gritted out. Jack nodded behind him and radioed in for help.

Gordon stared up at Dean with wide, but resigned eyes. “The floor’s gonna cave before you can pull me up.”

Dean stared down at him, even as lines of sweat poured down his forehead from within his mask. They both knew that if that happened, Dean would be pulled along for the ride down, maybe even Jack too. Dean gave a sharp shake of his head.

“Just hold on. Backup’s comin’,” he said. All his strength was going into keeping a firm grip on the man’s arm and jacket. He called to Jack over his shoulder. “Can you get next to me and grab him?”

To his credit, Jack tried. But the jagged edges of the floor around Dean were unsteady, creaking and groaning under Jack’s added weight, a bit too much.

“Stop, stop!” Dean shouted, halting Jack’s movements.

Gordon licked his dry lips and blinked sweat out of his eyes. “This might be the part where you let go, Winchester.”

Dean took exactly a beat to process his shock. Then he glared down at the man.

“Shut the hell up, Walker. You don’t let go, you hear me?” he barked. “Jack, grab the back of my jacket and my belt.”

Jack followed the order, and a combination of him pulling Dean up and Dean straining every muscle he had to heft up Gordon slowly, painfully, brought them back up and over the ledge.

Jack had an easier time then of helping Dean pull Gordon the rest of the way out of the hole.

And the rest of their Truck crew came to help them onto their feet, before the fire consumed the rest of the second floor.

Once Dean was out of the building, he took off his mask and breathed in cooler air on his face. He made a beeline for the fire truck. In the back was a cooler, and grabbed a bottle of water to dump over his overheated head and face while he caught his breath. Gordon and Jack were following suit, and the men stared and one another. All of their faces said the same thing.

We made it. We’re alive. That was almost fucked.

Gordon’s gaze met Dean’s, sobering further. For a moment, he looked like he was searching for words.

“How’s your shoulder?” he asked eventually.

Dean nodded, rotating his right arm. He was going to feel that bitch tomorrow.

“Fine,” he said. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Gordon nodded. Another hesitation, followed by an honest gaze. “Thanks, Lieutenant.”

Dean’s face broke into a smile, wry but also genuine. “Yeah, thank me by layin’ off the burgers.”

He swatted the other man’s stomach and went for three more waters. He handed two of them to Jack and Gordon. One was smiling, while the other just smirked and shook his head.

“You callin’ me hefty?” Gordon remarked. “I’m averaging 6% body fat, man.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, right. What’re you, the Rock? That’s why you almost sunk.”

He dropped his fist into the air and made an exploding sound. Jack was wide-eyed, but Gordon just chuckled. They started making their way to the front of the truck to start packing up their gear. The Truck and Rescue teams had done what they could, and all the residents that made it out of the building were being seen to by the paramedics.

“I’d rather be weighed down by muscle than all them Little Debbie’s you’ve been putting away at the station,” Gordon shot back. “Cheap cake is not your friend.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “All right, that’s just uncalled for.”

“Dean,” Chief Singer called, beckoning him over with a hand. His free hand wore a glove as he held something steaming.

Dean nodded at his men and joined Bobby outside his department-issued SUV. Dean’s gaze focused on the bottle-shaped object in Bobby’s hand. There was a small digital box attached to the front, with wires wrapped around. The entire device was now blackened, but the smell of chemicals was unmistakable.

“Molotov cocktail?” Dean quipped, but his face was as grave as Bobby’s. The Chief nodded.

“Lafitte pulled this out of the fourth floor,” he said. “Looks like the same kind of incendiary device Arson found at the Richardson fire.”

That night, you made dinner for Dean at your house. He was forced to explain what happened at the apartment building, and why he had his arm pinned to his side like a chicken wing. You made him sit down and relax, all while you tried to hide your worry and relief that he was mostly all right.

Later in the living room, you sat on your knees beside him on the couch and lifted the bag of ice from his shoulder. You peered at it in concern, gently rubbing your hand over the joint and surrounding muscle. Dean sighed through his nose as your gentle touch was both soothing and painful.

“Are you sure you should do another shift tomorrow?” you asked, replacing the ice. He shot you a glance.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Right,” you said dryly. “That’s why you can barely move this arm.”

Dean rolled his eyes and made his point by raising his right arm, slowly, but easily back down.

“I’ll be up and running by tomorrow. Just need a good night’s sleep.”

“Dean, are you sure? You seem to be in a lot of pain,” you asked.

He tried to hold in his annoyance. “I think I’d know if I’m fine.”

“You forget, I know all too well what downplaying looks like,” you countered, giving him a chiding look. Dean didn’t appreciate it. He didn’t need you to mother him.

“This is my job, all right,” he said.

You gave him a steady look. Your hand moved up his shoulder to rest along the back of his neck. Your fingers slipped into his hair.

“I know that. But I’m allowed to worry,” you said. Your brows furrowed. “Please don’t get upset at me for that.”

Dean let out a breath. He relaxed against the couch and met your gaze. He knew he had no right to ask you not to worry about him.

“Yeah, okay,” he said.

To you, he still seemed a bit annoyed. You nodded and continued to gently sift your fingers through his hair. You had to wonder if his resentment was coming from a different place.

“Are you still mad at me for going back to work?” you tested.

Dean breathed out deeper this time, but he didn’t answer.

Bingo, you thought with a frown.

“Dean—”

“All I want is for you to be safe,” he said. His voice was harder as his face tightened up. His hand gestured in frustration. “This whole thing…that fucking douchebag…it’s killing me. Fucking killing me. And you know that.”

Your eyes softened, and you unconsciously bit your lip.

“Ditto,” you tried to joke. It landed flat, because your boyfriend was deadly serious.

He looked away from you with pursed lips and a frustrated shake of his head. You sidled closer to him and tried to soothe, with a hand on his chest.

“Look, I’m trying to find a new job, but it takes time,” you said.

“You could quit. You could quit right now,” Dean replied hotly.

You sighed; you couldn’t believe you had to remind him about this. “I can’t, Dean. I have bills to pay, just like you do. You think I like this situation any more than you? I’m the one who’s had to deal with this for months!”

“I know that!” Dean snapped back. “Or should I say, now I do.”

He pulled away from your touch and pushed off the couch, onto his feet. You looked up with your mouth agape as he left the room. You got up and followed after him.

“You’re leaving?” you asked in shock. You watched him grab his keys and his wallet from the kitchen counter.

“I’ve got a long shift tomorrow and I gotta sleep,” Dean said, rather gruffly.

You followed him all the way to the door, where you grabbed onto his wrist. He stopped in the doorway, glancing back at you over his shoulder.

“Dean, please,” you implored. “Don’t go like this.”

After a beat, he seemed to soften. Just enough to lean over and press a brief kiss to the side of your head.

“I gotta go.”

He left you in the doorway with tears swimming in your eyes, and he pretended not to notice them.

When Dean woke up the next morning, his shoulder still ached, and he still felt guilty. He rubbed the offending join and tried to slowly roll the stiffness out of his arm. Fuck.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes next. They blearily took in the digital numbers on his alarm clock: 5:00 a.m.

He slid out of bed and got ready for work. He definitely wanted to check in with Arson about the device that likely started that fire, and he knew his dad would need to be brought in on it. It would give Dean a reason to press John for an update on his investigation.

By 6:00, he was finishing his coffee, about ready to head over to the station. He could hear the pipes running, meaning Sam was in the shower.

Dean was startled only slightly by his phone vibrating in his pocket. His brows furrowed, but he fished it out and found your name crossing the screen, along with a smiling picture of you. He sighed.

Part of him hesitated. If you were calling just to try and convince him to call out of work, he was going to get worked up again. And he’d rather not have anything disturb his first cup of coffee of the day.

Still, he answered. “Hey.”

“Dean, did you come into the house last night?” you asked.

He didn’t like the wary, almost scared tone of your voice.

“No.” His brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Look at the text I just sent you.”

He put you on speaker so he could check his messages. Sure enough, he found a picture from you. It was of a glass bottle-shaped object on your nightstand. There was a black box attached, but its digital screen was blank. Dean’s breath caught in his lungs as his eyes widened. His heart dropped into his stomach.

“Dean, what is this thing?” you asked. Your voice was shakier, more worried. “It looks like a bomb. And it smells awful, like chemicals.”

“Don’t touch it,” he said quickly. “Get out of the house…better yet, wait for me at your neighbor’s place. I’m coming over right now.”

And I’m calling Dad.

Dean tried his best to calm you while the police and the Arson Department swept your entire house for devices, fingerprints, and any other evidence on who broke in.

You had a hand over your mouth by the front door as you watched them turn over cushions, move tables and shelves, ruck through cabinets. Your entire life turned inside out.

Dean’s hand rubbed up and down your back. You eventually had to look away and sigh. You pressed closer to his side, and he wrapped his good arm around your shoulders.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he said quietly, and kissed the top of your head. Inside, he was furious. Mostly at himself.

If anything had happened to you last night, after he left…he would’ve never forgiven himself.

So it was a welcome distraction when John and Cas’s police car finally pulled into the driveway. Dean led you outside, away from the chaos happening in your house.

“Hey, Dad,” he said, with a nod at Cas. Both men nodded back.

“Son,” John greeted, His brown eyes turned to you next. He offered you a hand. “Good to finally meet you, despite the circumstances.”

You blinked up at him and curled a stray strand of hair behind your ear, a bit nervously.

“Oh, it’s…it’s great to meet you, Mr. Winchester,” you said, sticking out your hand and shaking his.

A smile flickered across Dean’s lips. He realized then that this was the first time you were meeting his father. You were adorably nervous.

A reserved smile tugged at his father’s lips as well.

“John’s just fine.”

You smiled back, with a bit of a blush tinging your cheeks.

“Now, can you tell me what happened here?” John asked you, not unkindly.

Dean’s good humor faded away as he explained about the device left on your nightstand. He filled them in about the fire he’d responded to yesterday as well.

“What the hell is happening, Dad?” he demanded to know.

John let out a breath and nodded, swiping a hand through his dark hair.

“It’s another one of Azazel’s signatures,” he said, lowering his voice so only the four of them could hear. “It’s a message.”

“To who?” Dean asked.

“To me,” John said. “Warning me to back off the case…there’ve been other threats. I’ve finally got a police detail on Sam, and I just got approval for you. I’ll add her to the list.”

John glanced at you. Your eyes widened in confusion as you tried to hold in your fear.

“Who the hell is Azazel?” You turned to Dean. “Is this…does this have something to do with your mom’s killer?”

John’s brows shot up at his son. “You told her?”

“You’re over here talking about him too,” Dean retorted. He gathered you closer and met his father with steely eyes, to mask how his gut was churning with worry.

“You need to get this guy,” Dean said, almost through gritted teeth. “Get him now.”

John agreed with a nod.

Once again, you covered a trembling hand over your mouth. Dean squeezed your side a bit to earn your attention.

“I want you to come stay with me,” he said. His tone was boding no argument, not that you would. You nodded and fairly melted against him. Your head rested against his chest.

“Dean, this is insane,” you whispered.

He nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I know. I’m sorry…I’m so fucking sorry about this.”

You looked up at him, your brows furrowing. “It’s not your fault.”

Dean met your gaze, but he couldn’t quite believe you. He was the one who kept pushing his dad for answers, to let him in on this. This was his family’s bullshit, not yours. You didn’t deserve to get dragged into it too.

The spell between you two was broken by Cas, awkwardly clearing his throat.

“We do need to ask you some questions,” he said. “About Nick Savage.”

You frowned. You peeled yourself away from Dean enough to face the detectives.

“What does he have to do with this?” you asked.

“His company is linked to a money laundering scheme, which ultimately leads back to Azazel,” Cas explained. “But we’re having trouble getting through his wall of lawyers.”

You scoffed. “Not surprising.”

However, it did worry you that Nick was possibly doing business with a criminal. Not that that should surprise you either.

“What do you want to know?” you asked.

“Well, first of all, would you be willing to file a police report,” Cas said, more gently, “regarding your assault at his home.”

Your eyes widened. Your mouth fell open slightly before you looked over at Dean. His face tightened, along with his hand on the curve of your waist.

“Why do you need me to do that?” you asked Cas.

“It’ll give us the leverage we need to dig deeper into his business,” John said. “Knock loose any shady dealings. We could get him to cough up what he knows about Azazel.”

You wanted to help, but at the same time, you were reluctant to mire yourself deeper in this. Dean saw your reservations, and he could guess why.

“Won’t that just paint a bigger target on her back?” he asked.

“We’re gonna protect her,” John promised. His eyes went from Dean, back to you. “But we need your help. This could be the break we need to get to Azazel. To find out who this bastard is.”

John could see your indecision. “All you need to do is fill out the report. Maybe get up in court to testify.”

You tightened up at that. “Testify?”

“If it gets that far,” John nodded.

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head. “That man can make my life hell without a serial killer’s help.”

You looked to Dean for support.

In the beginning, he had all but begged you to do what his father and Cas were asking. But now, this was just too much. He pressed you more securely to his side.

“Dean?” his father prodded.

“You heard her,” Dean said. “It’s her choice.”

You sighed and held onto the back of his shirt gratefully. The detectives shared a look, with John’s brows furrowing. He regarded you with a gruff, slightly strained look.

“Listen, don’t you want Savage in a cold hard cell?” he asked. “You could put him there.”

“Dad, she said no. Lay off,” Dean’s tone sharpened. Unfortunately, he knew how stubborn the man could be.

“Dean, I’m trying to nail this guy, but I’m missing pieces,” John said. “Right now, I can’t do it without her.”

“Well, figure it out,” Dean snapped.

John frowned in near disbelief. "Excuse me?"

“Look, I know where your priorities are, but mine is making sure she’s safe," said Dean. "If you can’t handle that, then we’ve got a problem!”

The strength of his retort took everyone by surprise, but no one more so than John. He hid it well behind a deepening frown.

He glanced between you and his son. You were looking up at Dean with unshed tears in your red-rimmed eyes, grateful, and holding on tight to his shirt. He still held you to him. His entire frame was tight and angry.

And John knew that he would react the same way, if he were Dean. He also knew then that he was pushing too hard.

So he sighed, and pulled out a card from his wallet. He handed it to you.

“I’m sure you’ve got Cas’s number already, but here’s mine,” said John. “Call me if you change your mind.”

“I’m sorry for invading,” you told Sam that night. He was helping you and Dean bring in your suitcases. You were pretty much moving into their apartment, indefinitely.

“You’re not,” Sam said, shaking his head. “We’re happy to have you here.”

You gave him a tired, thankful smile. “I appreciate that, thanks.”

“We’ll get to have an in-house chef,” Dean chimed in, earning more amused look from you.

“Need I remind you that I’m not an actual chef?” you said. You set down your smaller suitcase, full of shoes and toiletries, to grasp the front of his shirt. You leaned up on your toes and met him with a kiss. It was sweet, but it was also tender. His arms came around your lower back and pulled you flush against him.

He parted from you gently, afterwards pressing his forehead against yours. He let out a brief sigh through his nose.

“I’m sorry, about how I left last night,” he said.

You shook your head, despite the tears that wanted to burn in your eyes. You wanted to tell him, It’s fine. I’m fine.

But you couldn’t lie to him.

“You came back when I needed you,” you said instead. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

You felt his fingers tangle in your hair, his hand resting along the back of your neck. It was familiar, and soothing.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted you to move in,” he admitted. You chuckled wryly.

“Really,” he said. “…I was thinking of asking you. But not ‘til, you know, down the line.”

You softened at that. You raised up on your toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then you circled your arms around his neck and hugged him close. He held you back just as tightly.

“Thank you for always being there for me,” you said. He couldn’t see your smile, but somehow, he knew it was there. But he could also hear you sniffle, and feel your body tremble with tears.

“You’re safe here,” Dean said softer into your ear. “Nothing’s getting to you, all right?”

You nodded, pressing your face into his neck. He continued to say and do whatever he felt he had to in order to reassure you that night, and make you feel safe.

All the while, he was trying to reassure himself.

AN: *burrr* That tension, huh? What did you think of her finally finding out about Jo's lingering feelings, plus a bit of Dean's resentment, him and Gordon coming to an understanding, and the reader meeting John for the first time! 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Good news though. Next time, we'll take a huge break from all this drama and have a nice fluffy Christmas special. (Plus a healthy dose of spice. ❤️‍🔥)

Next Time:

You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.

Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”

“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.

You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.

You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”

He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.

“Well, if you’re offering…”

Keep Reading: PART 15

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

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tsukimefuku · 17 days

Text

crooked gardening ꕥ higuruma hiromi

higuruma keeps thinking about something you have done for him, and takes a walk to clear his mind.

tags: jujutsu kaisen, f!reader, light higuruma x oc/reader, this is so fluffy one could use it as a pillow. it healed my heart.

wc: 1.1k

collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

It was a mindless kindness gesture — like most of the things you had done for him up until this point —, but Higuruma couldn't take his mind off of it.

He tried, and recited to himself mentally every article in the general provisions section of the Japanese Penal Code, but after a while — and realizing that remembering things word by word when you don't have photographic memory is pretty damn hard —, he just rolled out of his bed to take a walk, still unconsciously holding his tie.

After the last mission in which you were both fighting side by side, you approached him, remnants of the exorcized curse still dissolving away in the air. Your hair was a mess, face flustered with the jumping and running around, battered clothing and little droplets of sweat streaming down your temples.

He was completely disheveled, too, but thought you might be looking much better than him right now.

"Higuruma," your voice echoed in his mind.

"What?"

“Why do you still fight in that thing?” You asked, gesturing towards the former lawyer’s suit. He was pensive for a moment, because he had never considered why he did.

"I don't know if my body knows how to enter work mode without a suit anymore."

You scoffed, half a snort, half a chuckle. "Seems like a lot of hassle, though, to be jumping around curses wearing that."

“Maybe you’re right” he admitted.

And then, you extended your hands unexpectedly, adjusting his tie around his neck with a snarky smile pulling on one of your cheeks.

"It was crooked, and you know we need to be presentable when we get back to report this" you remarked sardonically, as if the simple act of fixing a tie would make all the grime, dirt, and sweat that covered the both of you imperceptible.

He didn't know if it was the kindness, the smile, the humor, or simply you, but it felt strangely intimate, and his cheeks prickled with a dusty pink as he hastily thanked you and walked off before you could notice anything.

The former lawyer decided get out of his makeshift dorm room — used more like a prison cell than anything by Jujutsu High as he was still in their custody — to take a walk around Jujutsu High's HQ and clear his head. More specifically, stop the urge of trying to recreate the unique friction his tie made around his neck as you twisted it in place the day before.

***

You had been at it for about an hour, but it felt good. The dirt in your hands, the leafling, some manual good work. It was grounding, even if you were blasting music through your earphones.

Since you were supposed to help Shoko out today, but she never showed up — most likely due to a hangover —, and all students were out on their own missions, you decided to use the time you still had in HQ to fix one of the flower beds that had been neglected for a while.

You didn’t hear when he stepped in your direction and changed his mind four times before finally coming over to you. All you noticed was the two Oxford shoes stopping by your side, draped over by a black linen pair of pants.

There was some indiscernible voice, and as you took off one of your earphones, it said “you’re going to become deaf”.

You looked up at him and smiled, lifting an eyebrow.

“I know RCT. I think I’ll be just fine, Higuruma.”

“You people with RCT are so terribly reckless” he said, in his characteristic ironic cadence, stealing a quick laugh from you. “What are you doing?”

“Gardening. And you?” You answered, removing your other earphone and pausing the music.

He was on a walk to clear his head from that meaningless gesture.

“I was, I… Hm…”

The former lawyer began stuttering like he had something stuck in his throat.

In this case, he had that quick innocuous moment stuck in his mind. Your hands straightening his tie.

“Higuruma? You okay? Are you choking?”

“N-no, I… I wasn’t doing anything in particular. Just walking aimlessly” he finally managed to say, with a considerable amount of effort.

“Uh-huh…” that was weird.

“Well, hm, you know what they say, ‘every road leads somewhere’, right?” You tried cracking an afterthought of a joke and failed miserably.

He nodded awkwardly.

That was even weirder.

”Uh… You seem to have found me, so keep me some company while I finish this up, will you?”

You looked down at the seeds, but heard a strange hesitancy in his voice as he said “sure”, right before descending on the ground and sitting by your side, facing you.

You were finished with the seeds and fertilizer on the empty part of the patch of dirt. Then, you began pricking the skewers beside the sprouts turning to twigs and softly tying them together.

“Is that so they grow straight?” The sorcerer asked, pointing at the skewers.

“Yup. So they don’t grow crooked” you replied.

“Oh, and do you have to do that? Will the plants die if you don’t?”

“Not exactly, no. It’s just more aesthetically adequate, I guess.”

“Then, why bother?”

You huffed, smiling at him. “Maybe you’re right.”

You, looking at him with that same smile, had Higuruma blushing all over again, averting his gaze to the small sprouts in front of you both.

The lack of a witty comeback in his presence was a rare occurrence, so your eyes began analyzing him, and found the man looking apprehensively at a bunch of… little plants?

You gave a few more minutes, and that silence was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

"What are you thinking about?" You inquired, lifting an eyebrow.

"No one” Higuruma answered, hitching his breath as soon as he realized what he had said.

"What?"

"Huh?"

“Higuruma, don’t get me wrong, but you’re acting kind of weird today” you noted, sitting back to look at him.

“I just didn’t get much sleep, that’s all.”

"I don’t know…” you paused for a moment, “should I tell HQ to lock the bathrooms that have tubs? I mean, you’re already in the suit” you joked, “or I could get you a rubber duck. Your choice.”

He was surprised for a second, and then… actually laughed. A deep, rich, true laughter.

Other than the time you two cackled at the disaster of both of your lives, this was the first time you saw him truly laugh.

From the curse user you rescued, the man who had killed two people and lived with a death sentence hanging above his head, he had now turned into this kinda broody, witty guy by your side.

All after you shepherded him back to sanity without even realizing, since the day you decided to fight to get his death sentence suspended and to teach him what being a true jujutsu sorcerer meant.

You kept putting the skewers on the dirt and tying the knots, in an almost absentminded fashion.

“You seem very determined to fix crooked things” he noted.

He wasn’t talking about the plants, though.

“I guess I’m just good at it, knowing what crooked feels like.”

He smiled, but your eyes glued to your work didn’t see it.

“You really are.”

End notes: I know I said I’d be taking a break from this AU, but this one just stuck to my head today and wouldn’t let me go. So here it is, a fluffy Higuruma piece for you all.

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#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #higuruma hiromi x reader #hiromi higuruma x reader #higuruma #higuruma x you #higuruma x reader #higuruma hiromi #jujutsu kaisen higuruma #jjk higuruma #higuruma fluff #higuruma headcanons #higuruma x y/n #hiromi x y/n #higuruma hiromi fluff #jjk hiromi #hiromi x you #hiromi jjk #hiromi x reader

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randomshyperson · 2 years

Text

Cherry Wine - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Sometimes a glass of wine is all it takes to see someone who has always been in front of you. Or the one where Wanda is getting divorced, and you two are best friends.

Warnings: (+18), brief drunk making out, friends to lovers, lots of teasing and sexual tension, reader is a simp, semi public, a bit of roleplay, fingering (r giving), oral (r giving). | Words: 7.058k

A/N-> This idea has been on my drive for months, but I only finished it last week. Here it is, I think I've got all the warnings, but let me know if I'm missing anything. Good reading!

General Masterlist || AO3 || Wattpad

--//--

It was official.

Exactly 3 hours and 8 minutes ago - and Wanda knew that because she was timing how long she could hold her breath under the short water of the tub - she became officially a divorced woman.

She had just returned the cell phone with the lawyer's confirmation that all papers delivered had been read and the process was finished as she placed it beside the tub and was about to return to her childish challenge when the bathroom door opened.

You frowned at your best friend's posture, but there was a little smile on your lips.

"You have strange habits, Wanda. I worry sometimes." You commented humorously, getting a weak chuckle from the other woman. You had two towels in your hands - one for body and one for hair - which you left on the sink. "Natasha said, for the twentieth time, that she's very sorry to miss the girls' day, but she's going to try to bribe Fury with bagels to see if she could switch her overnight duty to tomorrow."

Wanda nodded in understanding but said nothing about it. If she was one hundred percent sincere, although she also loved Natasha, you were more than enough. You had planned a surprise day with just the girls on the same day the divorce papers were filed because you figured Wanda would need company. She expected to arrive home from the court to do household chores that were sure to make her cry, but she arrived at the clean and organized place, a hot bath waiting for her and your companionship.

"Are you ready to get out or should I leave the music on? You look like you're pretending to be a music video, and I wouldn't want to disrupt the creative process of the best writer in this country." You joke, and this time Wanda laughs with flushed cheeks.

"Stop it." She grumbles, but you just shake your head with a chuckle. "What did you say we were going to do anyway?"

"Cooking." You retort with one hand propped on the sink. "I know it's the only thing that helps you relax as much as writing, but since you hate writing when you're upset, Sokovian food will have to do." You reply and Wanda sighs heavily.

"Okay." She says. "Can you give me five minutes?"

You smile. "Honey, I'll give you all the time you need. Meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready." You said before leaving.

Wanda hugged her legs trying to get up the courage to leave the bathroom. Today would be a good day, she was sure. All the days around you were good, or at least, they were better than the days without you. These were not so common. Ever since the two of you met, so long ago in high school, you haven't been apart. Same high school, same college, same group of friends when you started your careers. While Wanda became a writer, you followed the same career as your mother and sisters in the medical field.

Today had to be a good day because Wanda had been needing these lately.

And while she was getting dressed, you walked casually down the stairs toward the kitchen.

Pietro called next and you put him on speakerphone as you moved to start getting the pans out.

"What do you need, my least favorite Maximoff?" You answered the call with a tease and heard laughter on the other end of the line.

"Please, everyone knows you are secretly in love with me." He returned, making you chuckle and shake your head. "Only that would explain why you lived at my house all the time in high school."

"Of course. And here I thought it was because your sister is my best friend, how silly of me."

Pietro laughed, and before you could continue you heard two childish voices joining the call, and you left the pans on the countertop to look at the twins trying to fit into the camera view.

"And how are the cutest boys in the whole world doing?" You asked, making them smile.

"Aunt Y/N, Tommy and I got a new video game!" Billy said excitedly. "Uncle Piete gave it to us as a present!"

"Yes, because they were very well-behaved on the trip, and they promised they'll remain just as quiet while I'm driving home." Pietro advised, rubbing his forehead lightly and making you smile.

The twins were spending the weekend with their uncle on the other side of the state, and you had asked Pietro for a few extra hours because of girls' day - which he promptly agreed to, because besides adoring his nephews, he figured Wanda needed some break.

"What time are you getting on the road?" You asked.

"After lunch. We should get there around six, and with any luck, those little boys will fall asleep halfway, right, kids?" Peter tried, but seeing the way Billy and Tommy were jumping around excitedly, that seemed far from the truth. You laughed at Pietro's tired expression. "Hey, how's Wanda?"

Before you could answer, Wanda had come downstairs - her hair slightly damp and her posture relaxed as she put on a sweatshirt set - she looked good. Quiet pretty.

"Y/N?" You blinked in confusion, realizing that you were staring and hadn't said anything for a long moment. Clearing your throat, you picked up your cell phone and turned to Wanda - who smiled at the sight of her brother and children - and approached.

"Mom, look at our new video game!" The twins started talking quickly, and you smiled as you watched Wanda's face light up as she spoke to them. You left your cell phone with her and went to organize things in the kitchen.

After a few minutes, Wanda ended the call with 'Love you, see you all later' and a nod, and then approached you, sliding the cell phone into the back pocket of your pants.

"Don't put it away, we're going to need it." You warn, putting down the plates you took from the top. "I need to look up the recipes online, I have no idea how to cook anything, Wands."

"That's what I'm here for." She retorts with a smile, taking the plates from your hands. "Everyone knows that following recipes is like cheating."

"That doesn't make any sense." You try but she just shrugs her shoulders and moves to leave the dishes on the countertop, and you laugh, seeing that this argument you will not win.

Except that, many minutes between jokes, touches, and playful nudges - from grabbing an ingredient before Wanda can, gently pushing your shoulders against hers when she was measuring something, or tickling her when she goes to reach for something on the highest shelf - whatever Wanda was cooking sure wasn't going as planned.

"There's something missing." She commented thoughtfully as she tasted the seasoning, and you crossed your arms as you leaned your back on the countertop beside her.

"Sorry, miss we don't need a recipe, did you say something?" You teased playfully, and she rolled her eyes with amusement.

"Okay, Y/N, renowned chef from nowhere with impeccable skills in making instant noodles and ice, can you please check the ingredients for me?"

"Hum, I didn't sense much sincerity in your request, but I will overlook it because you are cute." You joke, and since you are distracted by picking your cell phone out of your pocket, you don't notice that despite her shy chuckle, Wanda's cheeks turn pink.

With the recipe, it was definitely easier to finish lunch. And the food was delicious. You and Wanda took the dishes into the living room - because it was a quiet day, and since the kids are not here, you could do it just today - and turned on the TV.

Wanda wasn't even surprised that you had sorted out her favorite sitcoms, but she was certainly pleased. You were good to her. Always so good to her. And now, watching you out of the corner of her eye as you giggle at one of the jokes on the television, Wanda has to remind herself that she shouldn't feel her heart racing this way. It's not how friends feel.

"When do you have to go?" That is the question she lets slip almost four hours after you both have finished lunch. The dishes were carried into the kitchen by you at some point, and this must have been the only time you guys got up from your empty cushions besides bathroom trips. Wanda thinks that her anxious brain came up with this because she hasn't heard a word of the episode since she stretched out her legs on the sofa and your hands began to massage her feet.

You raise an eyebrow at her, surprised at the sudden question.

"Are you kicking me out, Maximoff?" It's ironic and humorous, and Wanda giggles, letting her head fall back on the couch as she looks at you.

"Of course, I'm so tired of relaxing and having fun all day." She retorts in the same tone making you smile. However you stop your caresses to check your watch, and Wanda regrets asking.

"I have the night shift, so I should leave before Pietro gets back with the boys." You mutter before returning your gaze to her. "But we have enough time to bake some cookies for them."

The suggestion makes Wanda smile. "Can we bake a pie too?"

You laugh, pushing her feet gently to get up. "Anything you want, sweetheart."

Wanda must have the flu. You always use affectionate nicknames, but now, it makes her heart skip a beat. She follows you into the kitchen lazily - even a little hesitant - somewhat confused about her own reactions. You don't notice anything.

Baking is different for you two - you are better at it than she is. Wanda helps with the dough though, and you have fun when you need to wash your hands in the sink, several playful pushings until you're done.

"Now we wait." You say as soon as the last tray of cookies is in the oven. Wanda decides to sit on the floor, her back resting on the countertop behind her, and you laugh at the scene, but sit down beside her, both of you staring at the cookies baking. There is a moment of silence, just your quiet breaths. Wanda hugs her legs and you sigh. "How has it been today, sweetheart?"

Wanda knows you are asking about the divorce, precisely about the absence of Vis around the house now. But to be fair, it's not as if he used to be around anymore anyway. And that is exactly what she tells you. Despite offering you a hum of understanding, you complete with a quiet "I'm sorry."

She raises an eyebrow. "Why? You never liked him."

You let out a short chuckle, looking at her with almost surprise. "I'm sorry you're going through this, I mean. And that you're sad. It doesn't matter how I felt about him."

Wanda nods, resting her face on her arm. "I'm not sad, Y/N." She murmurs. "I'm somewhere between relieved and angry. Probably both."

"Yeah, I'm sorry." You repeat and Wanda lets out an almost impatient sigh, turning her body toward you.

"You know what, Vision is no longer my husband. You can be honest, okay?" She practically accuses, and seeing your confused and surprised expression, she completes, "About him I mean. You two never got along. You don't have to hide what you really think about him anymore. You can be honest, I won't mind."

"Wanda, I really don't think that talking shit about your ex-husband is the appropriate thing-"

"Stop it." She cuts off gesturing a bit. "Vision was all about the appropriate thing, remember? So please, Y/N. Let's just, for today at least, be honest. I need this."

You sigh, looking at her with some hesitation. "Promise you won't be angry?"

"I promise."

"Even if I'm mean, or rude?"

Wanda laughs. "Yes."

You giggle too, but then let out an almost excited exclamation. "Okay, I've kept these things since college when you first met him, but let's do it." You stated in a fake serious tone that made Wanda chuckle slightly. Theatrically you made a thoughtful face and cleared your throat before beginning. "Okay, first of all, Vision was the most idiotic guy you could have chosen to marry, and these are the reasons: He is crude, hugely arrogant, and manipulative. I always hated the way he talked to you. He treated you as if he were somehow smarter or more talented, and he was never either." You began to state and Wanda's eyes widened slightly. "And also, he couldn't read the room. I lost count of how many times he made you uncomfortable with some inappropriate comment. And the worst part is that he didn't have the slightest clue that you were bothered because even though he was with you, he seemed to know nothing about you!"

Wanda swallowed dryly, watching you vent. The worst part was that you were right about everything, and she remained silent as you opened up:

"And that was just the beginning, you know? You two started going out, and he didn't even know the basics about you! And then you got engaged and he bought you a really expensive ring and all I could think was 'what a stupid guy'. You don't even like blue, he could have spent less on a red stone and Wanda would have loved it even more." You comment and Wanda lets out a chuckle that you share. "And then you got married, and the party was beautiful I admit, but he drank too much and almost ruined what was supposed to be the best day of your life."

"Thanks for moving the cake, by the way." Wanda muttered remembering the day clearly, and you laughed, nodding.

"It didn't get any better after that, Wanda." You continued. "He was a terrible husband to you. He didn't go to any of your events, and I know that because I was at all of them. And remember the twins' anniversary and the wine accident? The jerk was more concerned about a damn bottle than an injured son. It was a good thing I already knew how to do decent bandages." You joke about the last part, but Wanda can't give you more than a short laugh.

You keep listing - days and more days when Vision was a terrible father and husband - and you keep being right. But mostly, you were the one present in her life all the time. Attending her writer's publicity events, at family parties, gently picking the kids up from school, caring for this family as if it were your own. Wanda feels a lump forming in her throat. She wants to cry, especially if it means you are the one going to hug her.

Noticing her silence, you interrupt yourself mid-statement, looking at her with concern.

"See, Wanda, I knew I shouldn't have said anything!" You declare seeing the tears in her eyes, your face almost desperate. "I take it all back. Forget what I said, it was insensitive and foolish to say it at this moment."

Wanda gives a tearful laugh, shaking her head. "No, Y/N, don't worry." She says trying to push the emotion away, "You're right. Vis was an idiot, but that must mean I am too for believing him." She declares sadly and you deny frantically, but Wanda looks down at her own lap. "Maybe all of this is not for me, you know? I'm just not a good wife."

"That's what I mean, Wanda." You begin as you raise a finger to her chin, making her look up at you. Your hand doesn't pull away, fitting comfortably on her cheek, and it takes all of Wanda's mental control not to lean in or melt at the touch. "He made you feel like you weren't enough when he should have made you feel like you were everything." She knows she is blushing, and she knows that because your hand is on her face you are feeling the warmth of her cheeks. So she thinks it best to smile and nod, pushing her face away before she loses control of her own body.

"I have an idea." She declares because she doesn't want you to think she has rejected your touch or that she is angry, and is getting up. "Vis has carried most of his things away but left a bottle of wine from our wedding. I'm sure it was the last shot to try to make me feel guilty, but he's not going to have that victory. I want to drink that whole bottle with my favorite person, which is you."

Wanda didn't see the silly grin you had on your face because she was getting the glasses and the bottle from the cabinet under the sink. You checked on the cookies before you got up and Wanda brought the items to the countertop behind you.

"The saddest part is that your wedding wine is terrible." You commented, making her laugh.

"I know." She says as she opens it. "But it will have to do. One sip for the symbolism of the moment?" She asks, making you chuckle before nodding.

But time aging has improved the drink. You and Wanda share a surprised look as you taste the cherry, hum of satisfaction after the first sip.

"While it's not bad, I can't go to work drunk." You warn as you return the cup to the countertop and Wanda laughs, shrugging.

"More for me then." She says and turns your entire cup over in a single gulp, making you giggle and shake your head.

You go into the living room to get your cell phone, and when you return to the kitchen Wanda is sitting on the countertop. She has given up on the glasses and decided to drink straight from the bottle.

"Natasha apologized again, and said that the attempted bribe ended up getting her an extra shift." You say as soon as you read the message from your cell phone, and Wanda lets out a hearty giggle.

"Damn, now I feel bad." She retorts. "I think I'll save some of my pie for her."

"My pie you mean."

Wanda laughs, rolling her eyes. "We split the work!"

"Yeah, yeah, you can take five percent credit." You tease as you move closer, leaving your cell phone on the countertop next to her where you stop.

"Five percent?" She repeats with false indignation.

"And I'm being generous."

Wanda lets out a short laugh, pushing your shoulder playfully but you are looking at her in a way that makes her legs go weak. Your cell phone vibrates the same second Wanda starts to lean in, and it breaks the moment completely. She decides to take another long sip while you check the message.

"It's Harley. She wants to know if I can come in early because an appointment popped up." You count as you type. "Sorry, Wanda, but you just lost another hour with your favorite person."

Wanda chuckles. "You're never gonna let that one go, are you?"

"Not a chance." You retort with a mischievous smile, looking at her for only a second before you go back to typing.

Wanda takes another long sip of her wine, and the next words are coming out before she can hold them back, "How come you never got married?"

You blink confusedly away from the phone at the sudden question, but you shrug. "I don't know. I guess I haven't met the right person yet."

Wanda is no longer smiling. She thinks she should, though. It would be the appropriate thing to do: smile relaxedly for a casual conversation with her best friend.

"Not even Harley?"

You chuckle at her phrase, putting your cell phone in your pants pocket, and she makes a surprised face. "You haven't heard? I think Natasha was waiting for the opportunity to tease me in the most efficient way about it." You begin. "We haven't been going out in almost a month now. We were doing well, I think, and I thought about asking her to be my girlfriend during a picnic. I set up a romantic date at the Municipal Botanical Garden, even took her to see a butterfly exhibit. And guess what? She fell in love with the flower girl."

Wanda stared at you in shock. "Sorry, what?" she asked, but you laughed, shrugging.

"There was a woman supervising the exhibit, a biologist. When it was over, Harley took my hand and said `Sweetheart, this has been lovely, but we can't go out anymore. I think I just found the love of my life because of you." You recount. "I particularly think it was a funny way for the universe to say it wasn't meant to be."

Wanda let out a nervous laugh, "Oh my god, I'm sorry." She said but you chuckled, shaking your head.

"Don't worry, I don't think it would have worked out anyway." You say. "Sorry for not saying anything too, I guess I ended up blocking that humiliation from my memory and forgot to tell you." You joke, making her laugh. You reached over to pick up the bottle she had left between her legs. "A sip of courage to face a twenty-four-hour shift."

Your next sip of wine was miscalculated, and you downed a few drops, laughing at your own clumsiness. Wanda definitely must have been very drunk to be noticing the drop running down your chin, blushing as she realized the urge to taste it straight from your skin.

And maybe because she was drunk, she thought it was an incredible idea to do exactly what she wanted.

While you were scanning the place for a cloth to dry yourself, Wanda wrapped her legs around you before you could move away, ignoring your confused giggle as she pulled you closer by the shirt.

Your question about what she was doing turned into a gasping sigh when her lips met all the drops of wine falling between your chin and neck. You closed your eyes tightly, tensing up at the same moment, your hands gripping the counter as you try to keep your balance.

Wanda pulled away, licking her lips and her eyes so dark you couldn't see the green as you opened yours and faced her.

"There you go. Delicious." She spoke in a hoarse voice, and her gaze went down to your lips at the same moment.

"W-what are you doing?" You stammered affected, your face burning and your heart racing. Wanda threw the consequences out the window, her brain screaming at her to kill this curiosity that had existed since high school, and she did. She closed her eyes and broke the distance, meeting your lips in a firm and deep kiss.

You choked in surprise, pulling back. Wanda blinked, mortified, and suddenly very sober.

The apology died in a groan as you grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her for real the next second, tongue and teeth and with all the passion you had hidden for so many years. She matched the intensity, and as your mouths pressed together, her hands went to the back of your neck and yours went down to her thighs, encouraging her to wrap herself even more around you.

In the kitchen, all that could be heard was the sound of panting breaths and moving lips, until one of your hands went boldly inside her blouse and when your palm wrapped around her breast, Wanda gasped in a whimper, arching her body toward you. Something changed in you at the sound, your kisses grew harsher and your hands began to mark her. Wanda felt like she was burning from the inside out, so many years of buried feelings surfacing all at once and all she wanted was for you to release the hot knot in her belly.

Just as she felt your fingers work to pull up her blouse completely, the oven alarm beeped and awakened you.

Wanda grunted at the lack of your lips, but you were stumbling backward in shock, and she had to hold onto the counter to keep from falling when you did, one hand on your chest and one in your hair, your breathing as out of rhythm as hers.

"Fuck, what we were..." You started practically panicking, only now noticing the wine bottle that fell on the counter with the movement, and exclaimed sweatily as you rushed to grab the item and a cloth, frantically preventing further mess. Wanda was busy trying to control her own breathing and ignore the waves of arousal and alcohol in her brain.

But as soon as your gazes met again, she began:

"Y/N, don't panic."

But you grunted, shaking your head. "Wanda, we're just-"

Your speech was cut off by the sound of a car parked in front of the house.

Shit.

"Oh, no, no, Shit." You muttered to yourself, and Wanda almost took it personally, but she could barely think about anything really, every cell in her body begging you to kiss her again when you moved closer again. But you were only trying to help with her messy appearance, letting out a gasping sigh as you raised your hands to smooth her hair and caught a glimpse of her swollen lips from the kiss. "God, so pretty..."

Wanda felt her face warm but you swallowed dryly, shaking your head and pulling away with a grunt. She would have complained but you adjusted your clothes and turned off the oven, and before she could comment, the front door was opening and lesser beings rushed into the room.

She heard your quick excuses about being late for work, and the promise of cookies in the oven was enough for neither Pietro nor the boys to question your hasty departure.

Wanda would have run after you, but she thinks her legs were still a bit wobbly.

–//–

You haven't spoken to Wanda in four days.

That's a record that impresses anyone who is part of your life - even Dr. Cho, who until last week though you were married to Wanda so many times she saw you leave the hospital for some family engagement with them. It was embarrassing to clarify that you were just a friend of the family.

Friend.

You had a few. None like Wanda. And maybe that's why you're avoiding her.

The kiss hasn't left your mind since it happened. You had been running on automatic for days, and basically hiding at work to avoid the Maximoffs.

On the fifth day, Natasha had enough.

"This place is not a hotel, Y/N." She reminded as soon as she found you in the empty locker rooms again. You grimaced as you arranged the sheets on the bunk bed.

"But this has my name on it." You justified, gesturing with your head to the labels on the lockers.

Natasha crossed her arms.

"The lodging is for on-call doctors. You were on call days ago. You have your own apartment, stop running away from your girlfriend."

You blush deeply and look away from the bedding in an attempt to hide it.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You mutter, but Nat gives a dry laugh.

"Please, you've been working here for ten years, and for ten years Wanda has been making lunch boxes for you. Suddenly, she gets divorced and you start eating snacks from the machine and hiding in the dormitories. What, Vision finally found out that you were sleeping with his wife?"

“Nat!” You exclaimed embarrassed, but the redhead laughed and shook her head. "Don't say that! You know very well that Wanda and I, we never..."

"My god Y/N, you're still sleeping here?" Someone interrupted, coming to Nat's side. You sighed loudly at Harley, clearly arriving for her shift still in normal clothes and the lab coat inside her bag. "Did something happen to your house?"

Natasha smiles mischievously, leaning on the door. "That's what I'm trying to find out, and I'll bet you fifty bucks it has something to do with the hot Milf."

Harley raises an impressed eyebrow, her hands busy opening her own locker.

"What about Miss Maximoff?" She asks but you're sighing loudly and putting the covers away before walking away.

"Go mind your own business, Romanoff. And a good day to you two." You say as you leave in irritation.

But your escape from your colleagues is short-lived. Before lunch, when you've seen a few lovely patients that have improved your mood a bit, Natasha appears in your office.

"Hey, can I ask you a favor?" She asks leaning on the door, while you are checking the upcoming charts.

"Not if it's related to me staying in the dorm." You grumble grudgingly, managing a small laugh.

"I have found spiritual peace for that matter." She says mysteriously, and before you can clarify, she continues, "I'm going to take a little while at lunch, Maria and I are going to go over some adoption stuff. Do you think you can take over some General Practice patients? I can swap Pediatrics with you later."

You looked at your calendar before confirming, and Natasha smiled in appreciation, muttering that you were the best before you left.

In the afternoon, you were almost considering telling your long-time friend about what happened, but soon realized it was all her plan when you read Maximoff's name on the next appointment form.

In shock for a good few seconds, you almost considered faking a faint or escaping out the window, but both actions seemed very childish to you.

It was just Wanda. Your best friend of a lifetime. You could have a conversation with her.

With trembling fingers, you pressed enter on the computer for the next password call and stood up to spend the next few minutes rehearsing exactly what you were going to say.

All the words went awry when Wanda's upset face came into your field of vision.

"H-hey." You greeted hesitantly, resisting the natural urge to break the distance and approach her, wrap her face between your hands and ask if everything was okay as you had done a thousand times. And Wanda missed that.

"Hi, doc." She greeted with a slight tease as she closed the door, you swallowed dryly wiping your soft palms on your pants.

"W-what are you, um, doing here?"

"Well, I figured if I made an appointment with the boys, you would have moved on to someone else. Given the way you're avoiding me." She replies without any ceremony, and you lower your head in shame, shifting the weight of your feet. "So I had to ask Nat for help."

You let out a humorless laugh. "Great plan." You mumbled before looking back at Wanda - who had taken off her coat. You cleared your throat. "Well, why don't you start by telling me what's wrong, Miss Maximoff?" You ask and Wanda tilts her head slightly, seeming to decide whether she was going to go through with this little theater or leave the room. Fortunately, she chooses the former.

With a soft sigh, she leaves her coat on the support besides the door and unhurriedly takes off one at a time the sandals she was wearing.

"I've had such a tough few weeks, Doctor." She begins, your eyes catching every movement of her hands taking off her sandals and causing your breath to hitch to the dark tingle that takes over her green irises. "With my divorce being finalized, I've been so stressed."

"That...I'm sorry to hear." You manage to say in a hoarse, affected voice, watching Wanda gently pushing her sandals to a corner of the room and starting to work the buttons on her red blouse in a tortured slow manner. Your heart leaps as you begin to see more skin. "W-what are you doing..."

"Oh, doc, I should be more comfortable, shouldn't I?" She asks with a false innocence that makes you swallow dryly, half her buttons open now. "So you can check me properly."

You choke softly, your face burning but your gaze mesmerized on the woman in front of you, who sighs softly as she removes her blouse, letting it fall down her arms to the floor.

Of course, in so many years of friendship, you had seen Wanda in lingerie a few times. But never like this. Not with her deliberately offering the image to you.

Your brain short-circuits, and she bites her lip, a hidden little smile as she watches your reaction.

"All this stress has left me so sore in so many places, doc..." Wanda begins, approaching in slow steps that make you hold your breath, the image of her cleavage covered only by a black bra making it impossible to concentrate on anything if not this. "Can you help me with that?"

You nod frantically, licking your lips to try not to look like a complete mess.

"W-where does it hurt, Miss Maximoff?" Your husky question makes Wanda smile even wider. She moves her hands to yours and pulls the first one until your palm is over her covered breast, drawing sighs from both of you.

"They are so sore since you touched me in the kitchen." Wanda confesses in an equally affected sigh, and you resist the urge to close your eyes, gasping a little. "Kept missing the feel of your hands around me, playing with them. It makes me tingle, unable to sleep. And thinking about that makes another spot hurt."

You blinked a little confused because of the liquid lust in your brain, but Wanda wasted no time in guiding your other hand to her belly and pushing down until it slid into her pants, past her panties.

You sighed deeply as you felt her wet pussy, instinctively squeezing her breast and making Wanda close her eyes tightly, her hands going to your shoulders for support.

"Fuck, Wanda." You grunt but Wanda is throwing her hips against your hand gently, urging you to start moving inside her.

"Please doc, only you can help me." She declares, and you shudder at the meaning behind her words, not resisting the temptation to slide your fingers through her folds, collecting and spreading the moisture that only seems to grow and makes Wanda whimper. "In-in-side, please... I need..."

You interrupt her with a kiss, overpowering with ease because Wanda is twitching at the feel of your fingers. She tries to match your hungry, intense kiss, but as soon as you push two fingers inside her cunt, she moans loudly, hands gripping your shoulders tightly to keep herself from sliding to the floor.

You hum in approval, your body burning with desire at the sensation of the soaked and tight walls of Wanda's pussy squeezing your digits. When she can no longer kiss you back because you have begun to thrust harder inside her and she can only rest her forehead against your shoulder, clinging to your body to keep from falling to the floor as your free fingers stimulate her nipple, you whisper in her ear, "You have such a greedy pussy, Miss Maximoff. Taking my fingers so well, so wet and tight for me. You know If you wanted this, you could have told me sooner."

Despite the closeness of her orgasm - Wanda could feel her legs wobble, the knot in her belly tightening, and waves of hot heat spreading throughout her body - she managed to retort:

"Would you have...helped me...if I had asked you before?" She said between breathless moans, and you almost flinched at the hidden meaning behind the question. But instead, you switched the rhythm until Wanda began to whimper, her hips moving against your hand in search of relief.

Leaving Wanda's breast, you moved your hand to her face so that she would look up at you. Dark, dreamy eyes with very red cheeks. Wanda was absurdly beautiful, a mess on your fingers.

You make her cum before you say what you want. And she has to close her eyes for it, and you swallow the deep groan she lets out as she gets deliciously tight in your fingers, and soaks your hand with her juices.

As she recovers, you wrap an arm around her and draw patterns on her swollen clit.

"Look at me, Wanda." You call out in a whisper and wait until she does. "I would. Any time."

She swallows dryly, lowering her gaze to your mouth. "Even when..."

"Any time." You interrupt as you assure, sliding your fingers inside again and making her choke on her own breath. "I've loved you since high school, Wanda. If you had told me how you felt, I would have said the same. I would have kissed you in your dorm room, or at the church door. It could have been me screaming when the priest asked if anyone had anything against that union."

"Dorogoya..." Wanda starts out affectionate but turns into something like a whimper when you curl your fingers inside her. "Y-yes, just like that... chert vozʹmi, eto tak khorosho." she gasps in her native tongue, and you smile with a wave of pride in your chest as you watch her roll her eyes to the back of her head.

"Do you realize how many times I wanted to fuck you in that kitchen, Maximoff?" You continue, appreciating the way Wanda throbs in your fingers. "Or on your couch. Or my bed, when you and that asshole were fighting and you were going to cry on my shoulder?" You question, fingers stroking harder now. Wanda whimpers, shaking her head. "He never knew how to love you right, Wanda. Fuck you until you couldn't remember your own name. Good thing best friends know each other so well. I know exactly what you need, pretty girl."

Wanda was about to complain about the lack when you suddenly remove your hand from her pants, but you are kissing her hard and spinning her around until she is placed on the table. Your hands work to push her garment out of the way, and Wanda grunts when you break the kiss with a tug on her lips, only to feel her whole face burn when you start to get down on your knees.

Of course, she knows what you're going to do. And of course, you know that she has never received this before. You learned about it in a very awkward conversation on girls' night out, where Wanda had to confess that she was the only one in the group who didn't know what it felt like. Nat and Monica were too drunk to remember, but apparently you - from the victorious smile as you kissed her legs now - remembered very well.

Wanda tensed in anticipation, and you kissed her thighs before looking at her.

"Relax, Maximoff. You'll love it." You say trying to reassure her, but Wanda swallows dryly.

"You don't have to." She murmurs embarrassedly surprising you a little, "If you don't want to. Vision used to say it was weird and even unnecessary and I understand if you-"

"Oh, baby, you have no idea how much I want it." You sighed in solidarity. Ten damn years without decent sex. It had to be a joke. "Trust me, Wanda. I'm going to make you feel good like no one ever has."

She smiled shyly, and you kissed your way up until Wanda jumped softly with the first kiss against her clit. Your original plan was to go slowly, but as soon as you had a taste, your eyes rolled and you dove in.

Wanda cried out in pleasure and a little surprise, her hands gripping the table tightly.

“Oh, malysha… that feels-ah-really nice.” Wanda gasped with her eyes closed tightly, her hips trying to match the rhythm of your mouth. Your tongue moved masterfully, in and out in a breathtaking rhythm as you spread her last pleasure all around. Wanda cursed in Sokovian as you sucked on her clit, arching her back and squeezing the table until her fingers turned white.

She was close, so tight in your mouth that you could feel how ruined your own panties were, but you didn't stop - grabbing her thighs to keep her open and continuing to eat her out even after she came hard in your mouth.

"Chert vozʹmi, dorogaya, eto slishkom" She babbled in ecstasy, falling with her elbows on the table, her whole body spasming deliciously. But you kept licking hungrily until her rambling words turned into cries of pleasure and she came again even more intensely.

You would stay there forever if you could, but the appointment time alarm began to sound and you grunted impatiently.

Licking her clean, Wanda blinked affectedly before she felt your hands wrap around her and help her stand properly, your lips dancing on hers and turning her into an even bigger mess as she felt the mixed taste on your tongue.

"Go on a date with me, Miss Maximoff." You say between one kiss and another, and Wanda chuckles softly.

"Is that an order, doc?"

"It's a request." You clarify even though you know she is only joking. "One that I should have made the second I laid eyes on you."

Wanda blushes, smiling shyly before kissing you again, slow and deep.

"I would have said yes." She confesses breathlessly. "Before or now. I didn't know, Y/N. If I had known-"

"It's okay." You interrupt her before she gets more anxious, kissing her mouth once or twice. "We have all the time in the world."

She smiles in agreement. "My place or in yours?"

You rub your nose against hers gently. "Is there a difference?" You retort getting a giggle in return.

You helped Wanda get dressed between kisses and stolen touches, and even after she left, your heart was still pounding inside your chest.

Wanda loved you back. And even though you had been friends for years, part of you felt that your story with her was just beginning. It was somehow terrifying. The possibility of screwing things up, of course. Good thing you would have your best friend by your side.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines

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bellarkeselection · 4 months

Note

Request yellowstone Lee dutton

Reader is drunk and she calls her friend jamie to come pick her up jamie tells his dad and brother reader calls and needs to be pick up at a bar so lee and jamie go when they gets there some guy was hitting on her and Lee saves her and jamie being a lawyer threatens him

Dutton Boys Got My Back

Sitting up at the bar I downed another beer and added it to my section of ones I had finished in the few hours I have been here. Tonight I needed a release from having a fight with my mother over the fact that I had stuck around with the Dutton family. She wanted me to leave Montana but I felt like I belonged here and nowhere else. “Can I get another Liam?”

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” The bartender asked me.

Shaking my head I snapped back. “Nah I don’t think so. Now get me another before I call my buddies.”

“Okay don’t start a fight in my bar.” He warned me walking away to get another beer.

Taking my phone out of my pocket I scoffed scrolling through my contacts until I found Jaime’s cell. We had been close up until his daddy had sent him off to become a lawyer. Now I knew if I ever got in trouble he’d bail me out. Hitting he call button I finished the remainder of my beer. “Hey Jaime…you working on any big cases?”

“Not tonight. What are you doing?” He asked me.

Slurring my words the bartender came back giving me my new drink. “Just having some drinks after fighting with my mother again this year. That women don’t understand my life…”

“How many drinks have you had?” He questioned me.

Sitting my beer bottle down I answered him back. “It don’t matter, Jaime. Just enough to know….have we ever gone out dancing together. We should do that tonight. Come and pick me up.”

“I’ll be there in a few.” He responded ending the phone call.

I wasn’t sure how long I had been sitting there but it was long enough to know I should’ve probably left hours ago. Half the time I came out to the bar with Beth. The other times it was rare if I got Lee and Jaime out and off that ranch for the night. Lee and I always have something more going on then what we are actually comfortable to admit to ourselves. I’ve had a crush on him for years and I’d be married to him if my mother would allow it. “Dutton’s mean nothing but trouble.” She’d say to me during some of our arguments.

“What’s a pretty gal like you sitting up here all alone. Drowning your emotions in alcohol is no way to go.” A random guy came up to me but he nearly collapsed on top of the bar top telling me he was more drunk then I was.

Taking a sip from my beer I sent him a smirk. “That’s none of your business, buddy.”

“It kinda is a part of my business. I wanna….spend a round with you.” He gets up close to me pushing his Boyd up against mine nearly spilling his drink in my lap.

Glancing up at him I shook my head knowing exactly what he wanted tonight. He was one of the guys that think they can sleep with any girl that by herself. Beth taught me how to deal with men like this. Getting to my feet I stared into his eyes. “I have no interest in you.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.” The drunk man said back to me, quickly grabbing me by my hips bringing me close against his chest and I couldn’t move since my back was pressed to the bar top behind me. “You want this as much as I do.”

Gripping the bottle in my hand I throw it over his head and he stumbled backwards. “You little bitch!”

He moved forward grabbing me by my shoulders shoving me against the hard wood behind me. I grunted feeling my arms get some cuts on them from how hard he pushed me. He got in my face and I bared my teeth trying to fight him when he slipped a hand underneath my shirt. I screamed hitting his chest but he slapped me across the face. He would have done it a second time if someone hadn’t yanked him back by the collar of his jacket. “Why don’t you keep your hands off of her.”

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong.” The drunk guy grumbled to the guy.

Blinking my eyes I sniffed through some tears recognizing the cowboy that had stepped in and protected me. “Lee, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Why don’t you get your hands off of me, cowboy. I ain’t done anything wrong…because she enjoys being around me.” The stranger got up in the oldest Dutton’s face.

Lee glanced in my direction. “Why’d you hit him, darling?”

“Tried to get handsy after I told him I wasn’t interested.” Crossing my arms over my chest I answered his question.

“Did you hear that, brother?” Lee called over his shoulder allowing me the chance to see his brother Jaime come inside the bar. He was dressed in his suit and tie looking like he didn’t belong there. Yet either way I was happy to see my friend knowing he would fix this without anyone beer bottles to the head.

He nodded in agreement. “Sure did. I’ll take it from here. Who’s the more intoxicated one here?”

“He is. I told him I wasn’t interested and he still came on me.” Pointing my index finger at the drunk.

Jaime made a noise. “I’d suggest you leave this girl alone for the rest of the night. Unless you wish to be taken to court.”

“You can’t take me to court.” He says.

Lee and I glanced at one another with Jaime closing the gap between them almost completely. “I’d advise you choose your next words carefully. sir. My father owns the largest ranch in the state and this girl you think is here for some fun is a very close friend of ours. And I can smell alcohol and see some cuts on her arm’s meaning you could be filed for public intoxication. Like I said go home and avoid trouble.”

“So I was told you asked for a ride home. I’m here to pick ya up, darling.” Lee shrugged his shoulders at me once the drunk had stumbled off somewhere else making it just the three of us.

Grabbing my jacket I closed the gap between us leaning up on my toe’s taking him by surprise. “I appreciate it, Lee. Do me a favor and don’t think I’m doing this just because I’m a little tipsy. I….rather like you.” Leaning up on my toes I grabbed his collar drawing him down to me where I gave him a kiss rather quickly.

“What was that for?” He asked me turning a little red once we separated from each other.

Winking at him I walked through the door. “That’s a thank you for my Dutton boys coming to get me.”

“Take her to the truck and I’ll pay the tab.” Jaime told his brother at the same time that Lee scooped me up bridal style making me giggle at his actions. Wrapping my arms around his neck I laid my head on his chest.

Lee chuckled sitting his hat on top of my head carrying me outside to the truck. “If there’s more thank you’s like that one in the future I wouldn’t mind.”

“As long as your okay with my momma not liking you then we have a good chance.” I grinned at him where he helped me inside the passenger seat. He shut the door gently and kissed my forehead before I passed out waiting for Jaime to come outside so we could go home for the evening.

Lee brushed hair behind my ear he smiled lovingly. “We always come when somebody like you calls.” That was a very true statement since every time I called them they had come without a thought of hesitation because that is what family does for one another.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#lee dutton #lee dutton x reader #yellowstone series #yellowstone #yellowstone imagine #yellowstone masterlist #yellowstone x reader #jaime dutton #bar fight #requests open #ask box is open for anything #comments really appreciated

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writingshushf1 · 1 year

Text

Wildest dreams

Summary: Lewis Hamilton was screwed. He realised that he fell in love with his best friend, the one where he promised he wouldn’t do it, especially in the condition they were in.

Rating: +16

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.3

Notes: this is the first fic of a series that is inspired by @mignonricciardo “formula one drivers as romance tropes' so the credit of the original idea goes to her! ofc, i changed some bits because i refuse to remember ad 2021

masterlist

2022

The car was shit. W13 let it down since the moment they tested it for the first time and he wasn’t happy. He tried to let it all go after 2021, to think positive and be back at competing with his team - but no, the universe was playing a joke on him. And to top it off, gossip about him was going all around it, like he was a prey, waiting to be eaten alive. His PR executive bolted inside the room while he was doing a physical therapy session with Angela, his back was killing him.

“Not now, Mimi…” He murmured, trying to turn up the music, but she put a hand on top of him.

“I think it’s the time. You need a relationship to make the vultures talk about anything else.”

“What? But I’m not seeing anyone…” He raised his head, scrunching up his nose.

“Well, it can be a fake relationship! Just need a contract, a really good one, some lawyers and boom! New girlfriend in less than two weeks.” She was restlessly typing on her phone.

He sighed loudly, stopping his exercise and sat down, passing his hands on his thighs. “Fine.” Angela looked a bit sceptical towards him. “With one condition.”

“Only one? I can see that you’re evolving! Simpler.” She joked.

“I’ll choose the girl.”

“Fair, it’s you that will be dating her.”

……………………………………………………………………………..

You were snoring softly against the pillow, your limbs just screamed with pain and this nap was really the only thing that you needed right now, however, your doorbell started to ring. With an angry groan, you stood up from your bed and walked towards the door, opening and seeing a very anxious Lewis Hamilton there.

“Hey, Lew… Kinda weird for you to visit me in the middle of the week, especially that you have a race on sunday. You know, there’s a thing called cell phones…” He didn’t even wait for you to finish talking and walked inside your loft. “Oh, okay then, no manners, I see.”

“So… I need your help.”

“Here it comes… What’s wrong, mate?” You sat next to him, holding his hand.

“So, my PR wants me to be in a relationship. A fake. So the media will focus on something else about me.”

“Do you need me to find you a bloke?”

“Kind of. Actually… Would you be in?” He looked at you with exasperation in his eyes. “It’s just… We've been friends for years now, people have seen us together a lot, they always suspected it… And I trust you. A lot.”

“That’s…” You sighed, letting your back hit the soft cushion. “A lot. Like- It will affect my career, for sure! Or I won’t have time to be this aesthetic WAG of a Formula One driver. I love you, Lew… But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I know! I know! But… Everything sucks since last year and if I’m going to do this so I can wipe out all of the shit, at least I’m doing it with someone I love.”

You just heard his words and kept quiet for a few seconds, reflecting if this was not as insane as your brain wants to put it. Well, it is very outside of the norm to have your very famous friend asking you to be his fake girlfriend for the media, but at the same time, you’ve felt honoured that he thought about you first amongst all of your common friends.

“Well.. Since you asked nicely, we can arrange that.” You laid your head on his shoulder. “Fuck, you really know how to convince me.”

“Always did that very well and you know it.”

…………………………………………………………………

A few days later, some meeting with both of your lawyers, a contract - evolving money, you were planning on how to make it public your “relationship”. Your profiles on social media were all private, so no one could see except from pictures that he would post.

“Okay… So we can make this very secretive, to make them talk about it.” Miranda, the PR, suggested it.

“Maybe some fancy dates at restaurants?” He suggested.

“And sometimes, you leave the paddock holding flowers, like you’re going to give to someone else.” You completed it.

“And then, he can take you to a race, but just simple gestures, no kissing, of course. But enough to make them crazy for a break.” The PR finished, smiling. “And remember, you can have other people, as long as you’re very secretive about it, we don’t want a cheating scandal.”

“I kinda feel bad about the fans, they will be very happy.” The British man said, sipping on his whiskey.

“It’s your fault you didn’t want to fall in love.”

“My bad that no one would be as good as you.” He poked his tongue out, laughing.

“Such a cheesy man, are you, huh? I didn’t know that.”

………………………………………………………………….

The first few weeks of you being “together”, some paparazzis caught you two in some fancy restaurants, running together. At the beginning, it was awkward, you were friends, sure… But this whole situationship about pretending to be together was leaving you into a weird space everytime you two were alone. Of course, he tried to avoid it, skipping this step, but inevitably it would happen for a while.

Then, he invited you to spend a weekend with him, a race weekend. Your first thought was to deny at all costs, it was going to be so uncomfortable, especially with paparazzi all around you both. However, with a little of his encouragement words and reassurance that you did not need to go in with him through the Paddock, you agreed to it.

Sunday morning, he got this two bedroom ensuite on, so you wouldn't actually sleep at the same place, but not to leave any suspicions in case someone invaded your privacy. Lewis was up early, shifting around, shower on then off, blow dryer, lights on and off. You groaned and got up, opening your door and showing the middle finger towards him.

“Good morning, love.” He smiled, and threw some clothes at you.

“What’s that?”

“Some matching clothes. I know we won’t walk in together, but… I need to know you’re mine.” His cocky smile appeared.

“You…” You pulled the mostly monochromatic yellow outfit. “How?”

“Oh! And I have some shoes and accessories, you can look into that bag!”

“Okay, you really put yourself through.”

“Go get dressed! We’ll leave for breakfast soon!”

“I’m sorry, but I need makeup to look hot, so you will sit your fine ass down and let me do my magic.”

“Anything for my queen.”

“Cheesy!” You screamed, going to the bathroom with all of the things he gave to you.

After an hour, you two were finally going to the paddock. He was wearing an all yellow outfit and it perfectly matched with you. It was dumb? Yeah, but the butterflies were running up on his chest, the feeling of his missing puzzle piece being there just made everything even more confusing. He let you go out first, entering another through another gate - with almost no one around except for the team crew, then of course he made his entrance, looking handsome as always, while you were already at Mercedes’ hospitality, getting an espresso. When he appeared with a smile, extending a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers.

“Thank you.” You murmured, kissing his cheek.

“It’s not for publicity, okay? It’s an acknowledgment for being the best.”

“But the paparazzi loved it, people are really going crazy.” You could hear his laugh and it made your heart flutter.

………………………………………………………….

The end of the season sucked, Lewis had a DNF on Abu Dhabi, which made at least that horrible car have its end. He was upset, everything in that year about racing was just messed up, but at least he had you along the way.

You gave him a few days to breathe, acknowledge this unusual year for him, Hamilton needed this time for himself and you understood. Of course, it was mundane now, from spending some weekends knowing new countries and having fun with him, it was paradise, now you got it why women would always throw themselves at his feet, I mean- he was handsome and polite and also your friend for years, but you’ve never seen that way, a different side of the british man. You smiled with the pictures that popped up on your twitter, of you two hanging out the night before the last race, his hand around your waist, a stunning smile that could light up the whole room and stylish outfits - that you’ve always tried to match and look as fashionable as he is, however, the dark skinned man would steal the scene every time he stepped on the paddock for a race weekend.

The sound of some random tv show played in the background as you kept scrolling your instagram feed, just to kill some time. Out of the blue, Hamilton’s nickname appeared on the screen and you thought it was weird, why would he call when texting was quicker? Without waiting, you answered the call, pressing your legs together in anticipation.

“Hey, love.”

“Hi, Lew. Why calling? Especially in the middle of the day.”

“Oh… Wanna drive somewhere? I just could use some company.”

“Of course?” The request was a bit out of his usual character, however you knew him enough to know he just wanted to empty his mind.

“Pick you up in five.”

“Ok!”

And he hung up. You managed to put on a hoodie, sneakers and some makeup - just a bit of mascara, lipgloss and a blush, to look more “alive”. In exactly five minutes his car was pulling on your driveway. He opened the door for you and soon you two were going off to… somewhere.

The ride was rather quiet, just some pop music from the radio filling up the silence - comfortable silence. In less than an hour, he pulled up on a beautiful view, between the rocks you could see a river that was starting to freeze.

“Everything okay?” You said, in a low tone.

“Yeah. Just wanted to drive off, but your company makes it better.”

…………………………………………………………………………………

After that night, where you contemplated the view, talked and reflected on how your lives have changed in those last years, he took you home and wished you a good night. This became frequent, drive offs to different places, inviting you to his morning runs and hikes - which you weren’t so good, so he would continuously hold your hips and sometimes, when he was in his best mood, his hand would slip into yours on the rides back to your house and it was the best sensation in the whole world.

That’s when he knew he fell in love and all of this was more than some publicity contract, Lewis wanted to be by your side, it was the moments where he could be himself and no judgments from anyone, just you two in some remote place, far from paparazzi. At first, he didn’t want to believe, he promised himself, right before all of this had started, he wouldn’t fall in love with you. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

Yet, there he was, sitting down on his sofa, looking at pictures that he took of you on top of some hill, smiling. Quickly he called Miranda, Angela and Russell on a video call.

“I think I fell for her. And I promised myself I wouldn’t be in this state.” He sighed dramatically.

“That was just a matter of time, mate.” The British younger driver said, chuckling.

“What?”

“I hate to say it, but… You really sold the couple thing.” Miranda completed. “She looks at you like you’re the one.”

“I’m thirty-eight and I’m freaking out just like a teenager trying to deny its first love. And she’s an old friend. Great!” He passed his hands on the loose curls of his hair. “I really didn’t think I could actually feel that.”

………………………………………………………………………..

After another drive to a beautiful sight with no one else, he parked his car in front of your house. Looking at you for a few seconds before he tried to pay attention to something else. You noted that right away, thinking that he did get a bit distant those last few days, especially after his birthday, so you figured out that maybe you said the wrong thing or he found someone to actually be with him, so you would be finishing the contract on the publicity stunt. Well, it was good while it lasted, but it didn’t stop you to feel a heartbreak coming into you. As a mature woman, you breathed in and looked at him.

“Something is wrong with you. Spill it out.”

“Well… Something is wrong. And I need to talk to you about it.”

“Go for it, Hamilton. You know I can take it.”

“What?”

“What do you think I’m going to say?”

“That we should end this?”

“Oh… Love. Wait. Listen to me first.” He held both of your hands. “ At the beginning this was to save my ass and to have some company on the weekends, but with all those months being… In this fake relationship made me realise something…” He breathed in, closing his eyes. “I’m in love with you. I don’t want this to be a publicity stunt. I want you to be with me as mine. My girl.”

You put your hand on his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. “I didn’t know you were so romantic.”

He didn’t wait for more and soon his lips were against yours in a calm yet romantic kiss. His hands lowered to your hips, pulling your body closer to his, while he deepened the touch. When air made it necessary, you were almost on his lap and both of your cheeks were bright red.

“Come in with me. I promise there’s no paparazzi waiting for us inside.”

He laughed and got out of the car, opening the door for you as you two rushed inside like horny teenagers.

#lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 fanfiction #lewis hamilton x you

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punk4ndisorderly · 9 months

Text

waking up in vegas

Y/N just wanted to forget about this week from hell. In Vegas, she forgets just about everything, including her aversion to marriage.

Y/N gets extremely drunk and marries a random man she meets in Las Vegas

absinthe | last name | consequences

warnings: underage drinking, possible innuendos.

"I told you this was a bad idea. Bringing rookies to Las Vegas is bad luck!" Alex groaned loudly, walking back and forth in the suite's sitting room.

"This isn't bad luck, this is Trevor being a dumbass." Quinn corrected from his seat, his eyes glued to his phone. "Well, him and the rest of you jackasses. No offense, Leo."

The rookie looked away from the amazing view to look at the veteran. "None taken."

Trevor sighed, throwing his head back against the seat rest. Quinn wasn't wrong about him making really dumb decisions. He could feel the gold ring burning into his skin as he listened to his friends discuss his latest fuck-up. He had really gone and done it this time, hadn't he?

"First of all, Leo was never here, alright?" Jack asserted. "The only thing worse than getting married when you're one shot away from getting your stomach pumped is to do it with a drunk minor you got a fake ID for in the entourage."

"This is why I don't drink with you guys." Jamie said from the bathroom.

"No, you don't drink with us because last time you did you puked everywhere."

"Guys! Not the time." the blond man intervened, raising his hand in the air, the golden band demanding everyone's attention. "I need to figure out how to undo this."

Everyone looked at each other, no clue what to do next. It wasn't common for a group of men in the 18-24 year-old range to know about legal proceedings or how to clean up their own messes. It was usually all tidy and taken care of before they even realised there was a problem to be dealt with.

"Well, first off, we need to find your wife." Quinn pointed out. "Then, we need to get down to whatever wedding chapel you dumb idiots stumbled into, and ask for an annulment, I guess. Oh, you should warn your agent and ask for a lawyer, too."

"Can you guys imagine Z having to give a random chick half of his money because he got blackout drunk in Vegas? Oh dude, you'd go down in hockey history." Alex chuckled to himself, getting hit with a pillow not long after.

"God, my mom is going to kill me." Trevor groaned, throwing himself on the large, unmade bed he had woken up in with a complete stranger he had decided to marry staring down at him.

"Forget about your mom, Trev. The Ducks are going to lose their shit." Cole mused. "This is terrible publicity."

"There's no such thing as bad publicity, brothers." Jack countered, poking Trevor's back with the remote he found on his dresser. "Get up, dude. Quinny's right. We've got to find your wife and convince her to unmarry you."

"Oh trust me, she doesn't want any of this." he gestured to his body, going limp again after he did. "She ran faster than Bolt when I showed her the name on the ring."

"Yeah, well, we need to get to her before anyone else does and this gets out." Quinn said matter-of-factly, annoyed that, yet again, he has been roped into one of Trevor's shenanigans.

"Does she know who you are?" Jamie asked, propped up against the doorframe.

"Nope. She didn't do the screech and she wasn't taking pictures of me sleeping when I woke up. Last time that happened..."

"This happens regularly?" Leo nearly screeched, looking panicked.

"If you're Trevor, yeah." Cole shrugged. "Never to this extent until today, but... Don't worry, rookie, the fact that you look alarmed already tells us you've got more functional brain cells than he does, you'll be fine."

A sudden knock on the door halted the conversation, prompting Quinn to release another exasperated sigh and answer it. He should definitely stop letting his brother convince him to come on their trips, he already knew he'd be the babysitter at the brink of a nervous breakdown by the end of it.

He opened the door, being greeted by a small woman, backed up by tall redhead, surprise evident on their faces.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, we're looking for the ass my best friend ran away with and ended up married to last night. You know anything about that, sad-looking little boy?" Y/F/N/2 fired away, pointing at the eldest Hughes.

A cackle came from inside, Cole turning up beside him in the next instant. "I think you're in the right place, ladies."

Quinn rolled his eyes, stepping aside so the two women could come inside, meeting the other men in the living room, who immediately sized them up and down, eyebrows raised, most likely waiting for their reaction.

No reaction. They could not give two shits about them, and the annoyed looks on their faces were proof of it.

"Where's Travis?"

"Trevor." Y/N corrected her friend, using her fingers to rub at her temples. "I'm pretty sure we've got the right room."

"Yeah, you got the right one..." the blond man spoke quietly, probably for the first time in his life, coming from the bedroom. "Wife."

welcome to the ducks, leo! also, i totally made up the "rookies in vegas bad luck" thing. i do it all for the plot!

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras x you #hockey #hockey boys #hockey blurb #team usa #cole caufield #alex turcotte #jack hughes #leo carlsson #jamie drysdale #quinn hughes

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grimoireofhayley · 8 months

Text

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk, Religion talk, Suppressed Mental Health problems (I.e., reader has some issues that she isn't aware of)

Word Count: 0.9k

Taglist: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123 @darkenwolfie @juda-the-simp @colsons-baker @junnniiieee07 @ok-boke @ren-ni @katie-tibo @bruce-yamada

A/n: I promise the chapters from this moment onward will be longer! I haven’t proofread this chapter yet, but I’m working on it as it’s published. I can’t leave ya starving now can I? 😜

All chapter links!!! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 12

You stood a few meters away from the door, contemplating on how you were going to walk up to both Sidney and Tatum and act like you didn’t just have a heavy-heated make out session with Billy that almost ended up with your back pressed against the glass window; being railed from the front.

The door opened again, startling you from your thoughts as Billy and Officer Brinks came out.

You watched closely, frowning.

Billy was cuffed and being held aggressively against his own will and his dad only stood a few feet away from him, not even trying to hide the fact he was disappointed in his son.

Billy looked at his father, his white shirt clinging to his muscles from the amount of sweat that was coming off of him, defining them more than needed.

“Tell ‘em.” Billy began, his voice cracking. “Come on, Dad, tell ‘em!”

“Just wait for the lawyer, Billy.” His dad stated, unimpressed.

You wanted to run up to Billy and hug him close, but the interaction you had prior made it impossible for you to even budge.

“Sidney!”

This caught you off guard.

“Sidney, come on, you know me.” He whined, fighting against Officer Brinks’ hold, but the man was far too strong as his grip only strengthened, pulling Billy towards his cell. “Sidney, baby!” He hollered, not noticing your presence in the background.

‘I was merely just a distraction…’ You thought, baffled. ‘How could he do and say that to me, and then beg Sidney to look at him, like we didn’t just almost fuck back there..’ You cringed, biting your lip, trying your hardest not to let any tears build up again, but you failed.

Sniffling, you looked to the side, spotting Tatum, fortunately, she was already heading your way.

“(N/n), we’re going to get you and Sid out of here, okay?” She beamed, placing a hand on your back and began rubbing circles in an attempt to keep you from breaking down.

She gently grabbed your hand after a few seconds and dragged you towards Sidney, who was balling her eyes out.

Tatum looked ahead, seeing her brother, Dewey.

“Hey, Dewey. Can we go now?” She asked, impatient.

“Yeah, hold on a second.” He mumbled, but Tatum wasn’t having it.

“God dammit, Dewey!” She screeched, outstretching her arms to the side, in the process, she let go of your hand as aggravation strung along.

Dewey glared, stomping from his boss.

“What did Mama tell you?” He hissed, “When I’m wearing this badge, you treat me like a man of the law.”

You and Sidney just stared at each other, not sure what to say or do and for a minute, you had completely forgotten about the woeful event that occurred beforehand.

“I’m sorry, Deputy Dewey-boy of the law, but we’re all ready to go…” Tatum huffed, grabbing Sidney’s things and stuffing them away in a bag. “Now.” Tatum finished, handing Dewey Sidney’s things.

The Sheriff laughed, patting Dewey on the back.

“Take ‘em out the back way. Avoid the circus out there.”

___

“Isn’t there a back way out of this building?” Gale asked, already walking towards the back with her cameraman.

“Yeah, down that alley I think.” Kenny answered, hoisting the camera on his shoulder, steadying it.

“You stay here, I’m going to get the police car.” Dewey ordered the three of you and then jogged towards his destination, not realizing Gale was on her way.

“There they are!” Gale suddenly blurted, running towards you, Tatum and Sidney.

“(Y/n)! Sidney!” Gale shouted, slightly out of breath.

The bright beam of the flash on the video-er, blinded you for a moment.

“Hi, this is some night! What happened? Are you two okay?” Gale asked, not really interested, as she shoved the mic between you and Sidney, awaiting answers.

“They’re not answering any questions, all right. Just leave us alone.” Tatum stepped in front of you, swatting the mic away.

“No, Tatum, it’s okay. She’s just doin’ her job, right Gale?” Sidney spoke, now in front, confidence radiating off of her despite the forced smile making its way to her face.

You glanced at Sidney, not sure what she was doing, when all you wanted was to just leave, maybe get some rest before the next day. You were irked as it was, and Gale’s voice just kept going and going, making it more difficult to think, breathe, and leave.

“Yes, that’s right.” Gale grinned, oblivious.

“So, how’s the book?” Sidney asked, curious to know what Gale would say.

“Oh, it’s going well, should be out later this year.” She answers.

“Oh, I’ll look for it.” Sidney mocked, she was definitely pissed off.

“I’ll send you a copy—“

Gale didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence as you butted in; your knuckles connected to the side of her face, causing her to knock back, falling into her cameraman. She groaned, pain searing throughout her jaw and cheek, her hand immediately shot to the stinging sensation she felt in a horrible attempt to soothe the affliction.

Sidney’s mouth gaped as she looked at you, not sure if she should thank you or scold you as she wanted to be the one to punch her.

“I’ve had a long day.” You started, “And your voice was the tip of the iceberg.” You growled, “And frankly, I didn’t want to hear you talk anymore.” You fumed, spitting at her feet. “Now, if I were you, I would put that book on hold and shut the fuck up for once.” You finished.

<—Previous Next—>

#fanfiction #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #billy x you x stu #scream franchise #stu macher #billy loomis x female reader #billy x stu #stu matcher x reader #stu macher x female reader #ghostface #ghostface x female reader #ghostface x you #ghostface x reader

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waiting-makes-me-antsy · 1 month

Text

Why the KOSA Bill Should Not Pass

tw: ab0rtion talk, assault mention, su1cide mention

also, credit to @the-realest-spot-conlon for getting this strike started. i've known about this bill for a while but until she talked about it, i hadn't really researched what this bill would have in store for the united states.

this will be a bit dark because this is sort of a speech against the KOSA bill and the bill basically wants to ban any talk of abortion, protesting and the LGBTQ+ community from kids under 16- WHICH the parents have no control over controlling what their child could see and the government would basically be saying:

"oh that's inappropriate" to say something like, idk, an inclusive video

and basically sort of brainwashing an entire generation

so yeah this will be a bit dark so don't read if you might be uncomfortable with the topics this sort of speech will have

(and this is directed at the government so when I say 'you' in the paragraphs it's towards the government)

[i removed the first part because it's a bit more personal and uh i dont think it should be shared here :sob]

And while it might seem a bit overexaggerated, it’s true. There are teenagers all over the united states, countries and the globe who face problems like these. And it’s not just verbal. No, there is physical violence and assault, hate crimes happening to students everywhere.

You might now be asking: “What does this have to do with the KOSA bill?”

I hate to say it but the internet has truly been my one and only friend I can ever count on. Who I always know has my back. The LGBTQ+ community doesn’t care if I’m not super skinny or if I have scars lining my arms. They support the fact I don’t really have any romantic feelings towards other people or really just romantic feelings in general. They make me feel normal. That it’s okay to not feel inclined to have and align with the normal gender rules. That I don’t have to follow the binary.

The internet is the only place I can analyze poetry and art deeply with different interpretations and analyzations of every single line, or every single stroke in a painting or word in a novel. Where I can freely talk about my new hyperfixation and no one will stare at me weirdly. Instead, they will respond with another essay.

They won’t say it’s “fucking sad” that I like to write essays in my free time- one of the only ways I can truly express myself because no one at school wants to hear me talk.

And it’s not just a safe place for me. No, it’s a place where everyone as a whole can express their rights and their thoughts. This is our future generation- our future leaders we’re talking about. If the only things that can make us realize what we need to change are censored, how will we ever be able to fix these problems that citizens make?

Abortion laws. Yes I’m saying that. You want to censor any talk of abortion. What about all the innocent girls out there? Brutally assaulted and forced to ruin their career because they can’t get rid of a baby that’s not even developed yet. That doesn’t even have feelings or a brain yet. It’s just a tiny hint of life, not a fully classified human being yet. An embryo. And so now, they will have to face anxiety, depression, guilt, maybe even shame and ruin for the rest of their lives.

They don’t have a free choice. But America is supposed to be freedom for the people! And here you are, taking away futures. Taking away future doctors, lawyers and even presidents. Just to save a cell inside their stomachs. Just to make them risk their lives giving a painful birth that will destroy their bodies. No brain, no feelings and no heartbeat.

We need to know the wrongs in our world to stop them! To be able to protest against them! To be able to stand up for ourselves! So the older generations won't keep making votes that will ruin OUR futures.

Let’s look back at the first right for our states. Freedom of Speech. Huh, sound familiar to your bill? You want to take away protesting from the eyes of our future. From what can help them make the right decisions for our nation. So they can learn to lead. But no, you just want to raise mindless sheep that will bend to your will because they never had any exposure to what can help them break away.

This bill will ruin lives. It will break apart the nation into pieces like a glass window broken by a bullet. Because if this bill passes, I bet you this: suicide rates will go up. Depression rates: up. Without the comfort of people who you actually connect to, isolation will take over your feelings and it just leads you into a downward spiral.

Imagine you’re a 13 year old who just watched their entire future torn to shreds by a bill signed. You just took their voice away. Their rights away. Possibly their entire life away. Consider that.

#KOSA newsies strike #fuck kosa #stop kosa #kosa bill #antsy whispers speaks

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llamagoddessofficial · 1 year

Note

What if MC in the Prisoner!AU was the boys’ attorney?

@recklesslycaffeinated au where Don convinced Reader to go into law with him, lol

Mc is a defence attorney who often defends monsters pro bono. It can be difficult for them to navigate the complex human legal system, and she’s there to help.

Sans: They got along well from the start. Sans is charming, smart, and gives off such a harmless aura. Although she got the sense some of his niceness was for show, he was still helpful and polite, and he seemed really interested in the legal processes. As his defence attorney, Mc is privy to a lot of information that not many other people get to see. She digs into his old records in preparation for his trial... and she starts to see some worrying patterns. As such, despite Sans’ persona, she wisens up to what he’s really like a lot faster than her nurse & asylum counterparts. He seems sweet, for sure, but the records she’s digging through paint a portrait of a different monster entirely.

... But she tries her hardest to treat him well, and get him a fair trial regardless. It’s not her job to be the jury. It’s her job to make sure the jury can do their job.

Initially, Sans was sweet to her in the hopes that it would bore her and convince her he’s harmless. The last thing he needed is some human lawyer discovering his past, and stopping his ‘mission’. But... then he started getting attached. Very attached. He started falling in love. Now, he’ll do anything he can to stay close to his little lawyer- and to protect their future together, he’ll do anything to prevent her from finding out just how high his EXP really is, and how deep the rabbit hole of his past goes.

Red: Their relationship is a somewhat fraught one. He adores her and is a relentless flirt, trying to get her to be his, meanwhile she desperately tries to maintain professional boundaries, unwilling to get involved with the head of a mob. Though she first was intimidated by him, she now just considers him a big (annoyingly charming) nuisance. They met after she defended some of his underlings and successfully kept a few out of jail, without realising just who they were working for, and now anytime it’s his turn to face legal music he ignores all the expensive lawyers his brother wants him to take and goes straight to her.

She’s so cute. He loves her. He loves how she tries so hard to paint him as a half decent guy when taking press statements, he loves the way she glares at him if he starts saying dumb things in interviews. He’s got bribes running through the whole legal system at this point, from judges to juries, he just likes being able to spend time with her during trials.

Is he committing minor, easy-to-defend crimes, just so he can hire her as his attorney and enjoy taking up her time? Perhaps. He’ll be pleadin’ the fifth on that one.

Skull: The human-eating beast we all know and love. He has very little left in his head- nobody else would take his defence, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t do her best to help. And despite his... reputation... she decides to take his case. The gory details of it all deeply upset her, but her aim for his trial isn’t to say he didn’t do it- it’s just to successfully plead insanity and get him placed in care instead of in a prison. Sans actually helps her out a little, telling her about how monster Souls can warp after tragedies, which she hopes is grounds for arguing that Skull was under duress and didn’t act with malice or forethought. While his case goes on, he’s held in a specialised facility. She decides to start visiting him face-to-face regularly, just to get a sense of him... tell him about how his case is going. Maybe it’ll help him, if he understands he’s got someone on his side through this.

Their meetings take place with him fully tied down and masked. Animalistic or no, he’s still legally entitled to meetings with his lawyer. Unlike his prison self, this Skull hasn’t been rotting in a cell for years- he’s fresh from his murders, just as powerful, but still sharp. Still aware. Still violent. From the very beginning, he becomes more alert when she’s in the room, he leans forward when she talks. He breathes faster when she’s nearby, and he holds her gaze until she gets shivers.

At first, she wishes he’d say something.

Then he starts talking. And she wishes he’d stayed silent.

#llamagines #attorney au #reporter: Red- what do you have to say about the trial?#red: i think the prosecution is a buncha-#mc: [elbows him hard in the ribs]#red: -buncha nice fellas. real smart. can't wait for trial.

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drghostwrite · 10 months

Text

When the Sun Sets on Us

Pairing: Lena Luthor x fem!reader

Summary: Lena meets Y/N a very successful but cutthroat lawyer and media mogul she’s smart, funny with a fiery side, witty and of course drop dead gorgeous her outfits are always on point and she never misses a beat(imagine younger and nicer Cat Grant x Diana Prince) after working a couple contracts with her, Lena starts to fall for this mysterious woman and before she knows it she’s head over heels in love.

***************************************************************

You were in an important meeting with a new high profile client and felt your phone buzz in your blazer pocket, at first you ignored it until you felt it again, you turned your wrist up to read the message on your watch. The green bubble flashed revealing a text from none other than the Lena Luthor:

Hey not sure what your up to but can you call me when you get the chance?

and then another

I'm sorry I called your secretary and she said you were in an important meeting, we can talk later when you're free.

You two had worked on several lawsuits together when her brother ran Lexcorp, so you were on a first-name cell phone number basis, but she never texted or called when you were at work. Someting must be up you said to yourself.

You looked down the table at one of your coworkers who gave you a questioning look, motioning to your watch, they gave you a nod and you excused yourself to your office. You nodded to your secreatary and she knew not to interrupt. You picked up your phone dialing Lenas number it rang twice before she picked up.

"Hello?"

"Y/N?"

"Yea, Lena what's up?

"Nothing it can wait you are supposed to be in an important meeting."

"Well, the upside of being one of the best lawyers in the country and having my name on the firm is that I have some very competent lawyers to run these meetings."

"Okay, I think I need your help."

"You think? What's going on Lena?"

"It's my mom, now that Lex is locked away she wants to take over the company, she against the rebranding, she's also in league with Morgan Edge."

"So..."

"So I'm trying to fight her but they got some of the best lawyers and I can't compete, I need some help."

"Well the good news is she has good but you have the best, I'll be right over."

"Thank you Y/N."

This was your job, you typically dealt with criminal court cases but sometimes you got high-profile clients that, that included CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, sometimes it was big or sometimes it was just the media causing stink and then you would come in and clear everything up, you've helped build reputations and also destroy some. you quickly grabbed your purse and left your office, meeting your secretary.

"Ms. Romero please redirect everyone to my cell if they need anything dyer otherwise tell them I'm dealing with an impportant client."

"Yes Ms. Steele, may I ask who?"

"Ms. Lena Luthor."

"Yes Ma'am I'll put it down, do you need meetings covered?"

"Yes, Mr. Leone is with Mrs. Valentino is with in the meeting now, if you could have them both take my meetings that would be great."

"Sounds good." You turned to walk away but then turned back and fished through your purse.

"Oh and Alexia thank you...." You continued to fish through your ourse grabbing your wallet and pulling out a card. "Here love, it's my card, go get dinner for the three of you it's going to be some long nights, and you all deserve a treat. I'll be sure to come back and check in on everyone though."

"Thank you Ms. Steele!" She said almost stunned.

"Call me if you need anything, and also it's Y/N." she nodded nd you left.

--- time jump ---

You pulled up outside of Lexcorp and quickly parked looking in the irror to make sure you looked good, making your way inside. After the first couple of doors you were met with guards, one held his hand out stopping you.

"I'm sorry Ms. we need to see ID unless you have an appointment."

"Yes, I am here to meet with Ms. Luthor I'm her lawyer, Y/N Steele." before the guard could say anything her secretary came running around the corner apologizing and quickly pulling you towards the elevator, she hopped on and took you upstairs to Lena's office. She handed you a badge and told you to scan at the door as she quickly retreated back to her vast desk. you scanned and heard the lock click quickly opening the door.

When you entered you saw her, Lena Luthor, with long and silky raven hair tied back in a ponytail, her maroon suit hugging her perfectly in all the right areas, she was absolutely gorgeous, but you could see the stress plaguing her features as she paced back and forth behind her desk.

"Lena?" you called pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Oh thank God you're here," she said a sigh of relief coming from her. You walked over set your purse down and laid your coat over the chair.

"So tell me whats up,"

"It's my mom, she wants Lexcorp now and she's sided with Morgan Edge to get her hands on it, promising shares for some dirty work."

"First that's illegal, and I can nail them for insider trading if we can prove it..."

"Well she's been running an... well... no never mind," she said with a shake of her head, little did she know that you knew about CADMUS and the underground lab and experiments, you were secretly DEO for crying out loud.

"You can tell me anything."

he looked at you like she was going to tell you but then you saw that she quickly covered, "She's been spinning the media hoping that they run me out of the company."

"Well, it's good you called because this is my forte straightening out the media and winning these cases."

"I didn't know who else to call," you saw a thin water line come to her eyes, "you're the only one I can trust right now."

You smiled gently at her, "Lena Luthor I promise not to break that trust."

---time jump---

Here you sat in a big corporate office with you and Lena, the other side of the table was full of corporate lawyers, Morgan Edge with his minions, and of course Lillian Luthor.

"Lena this is childish, why don't you just hand over the company rights it's not even yours to begin with."

"Because mother, I was meant to take over Lexcorp and my first step will be rebranding, it's now going to be Luthorcorp so I can bring some respect back to the name.

"Oh foolish girl, you were never a Luthor, you were just another charity case for my husband, you might as well just give me the company, so Morgan here can expand Edge industries.”

“Mother…” Lena tried to reason but her mother knew exactly what to say slowly chipping away at her.

“Mrs. Luthor I would choose your next words very wisely.” You said your cold demeanor seeping through the professionalism, no one deserves to be treated like that.

“Oh and who might you be?”she asked rhetorically, “Lena’s glorified guard dog? Hmm or just the eye candy she keeps around the office, I’ve crushed many careers and aspirations under my boots and you would be no exception.”

“Well I guess it’s good I wear stilettos then,” you smirked a fire in your eyes tempting her. “And I would also like you to know that I’ve never lost a case, and I won’t start today.”

“Well Lena you know how to pick them, where’d you find her acting in broadway or in a back alley.”

“Actually mother she’s from Steele and St. James, I hire only the best not these cheap side hustlers.” She sat back crossing one leg over the other.

“Yes did I forget to mention my name, I’m Y/N Steele,” Lillian eyes stayed on you but you could feel them losing their electricity. “I have a proposition, you allow Lena to keep the company and I allow you to keep these.” You slid a file across to each of them, Morgan squirmed in his seat and Lillian looked up at you mouth agape.

“I believe that can be arranged.” Lillian croaked.

“Good because I would really hate to use that.” You stared back unwavering. Lillian reached over and grabbed the documents signing the company over to her daughter, and quickly leaving. But not before ripping Lena apart.

“I’m not sure what dirty games you’ve played but after this you’re no longer my daughter, you were fine as another charity case but from this day forward your not apart of the Luthor family.” She shot at her and then exited.

Lena quickly retreated to her office and you gathered everything and followed, as you stepped in you saw her staring out the window. You set eveythung down on the table and walked towards her rubbing her back in soothing circles, tears rolled down her cheeks.

“You know I never wanted this I always wanted to help people, save lives with science. I never saw myself running something like this.”

“I’m sure you’re going to do great.” She turned and looked into genuine eyes and a gentle smile.

“Y/N, Thank you.”

“no need to thank me this is what I do.”

“I…well… you’re amazing at it.”

“I try my best.” You stood turning to walk away but she grabbed your arm turning you towards her.

“C… can I…I need to tell you something.”

“Anything you know you can tell me anything.”

“I, well, god Y/N.” She reached up pulling you into a kiss, holding your face, she turned to pull away and you pulled her hips in closer.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long.” she said leaning her forehead on yours. You chuckled softly, “why didn’t you?”

“Because you’re Y/N Steele, one of the most successful lawyers in the country, you never miss a beat, never lose a case, your style is impeccable, and you just have this power over people.”

“especially you?”

“Especially me, I vowed to never trust people because again I was so hurt and you showed me I can love and trust again. At first I wasn’t sure but after a few months I tried finding every reason to see you but I always served so determined I didn’t want to distract you.”

“Oh love you’re the prefect kind of distraction.” You placed a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you to Lena Luthor.”

#x yn #fluff prompts #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor #supercorp x reader #supercorp #supergirl #alex danvers #kara danvers

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seungkwansphd · 11 months

Text

room for interpretation - 2

pairing: lawyer!jeonghan x lawyer!YN| word count: 9.1K synopsis: as top of class, you and jeonghan had been many things to each other. enthusiastic rivals, begrudging allies, and…parties to a jokingly written (but legally binding) marriage contingency contract? this piece of paper would’ve been long forgotten had an unexpected merger not thrown you back into each others’ lives. themes: fluff, rivals to coworkers to tentative friends to lovers, “if we’re both single by X age” marriage contract, IDIOTS2lovers, fake dating, miscommunication. this is just a romcom.

“Hey Maja?” you heard Jeonghan’s voice through your door.

“Yes Jeonghan?”

“Can you help me understand how the Law Library is organized?”

“No! I will not help anyone with that!” Maja stood up violently from her desk. “I’ve told Peter a hundred times and I’ll tell him again that we need to digitize that! But nooooo, Mister Romantic likes the aesthetic and mood of having physical references.”

Jeonghan was rightly baffled as Maja stomped off away from him with a stack of papers that would find themselves wrongfully shredded if she didn’t calm down. You held in a laugh. You agreed that digital references would be more efficient, but you also enjoyed the “Law Library”, which was really just an empty office filled with bookshelves of case studies. It was great for when you needed a change of pace as well as one of the best cell reception areas in the office, making it a prime spot for taking phone calls.

“I can help you,” you called to Jeonghan as you got up from your chair.

“She’s…fiery,” Jeonghan commented as you walked.

“Yes, it’s best to stay on her good side,” you chuckled.

Jeonghan followed you in and looked on as you explained Peter’s organization system to him. It didn’t really make sense, but if you understood the logic behind it, you could find things easily enough.

“Do anything interesting this weekend?” you asked as you helped Jeonghan search for a specific reference.

“Went to see my sister.”

“Oh! How is she doing?”

“Good. Her kid is almost five now, which is mind boggling to me!”

“What?!” your eyebrows shot up.

You remembered meeting Jeonghan’s sister briefly during a family orientation event. You knew almost nothing about her, but still it surprised you to hear that his younger sister had a child.

“Are you seeing anyone?” you asked without thought.

“What?”

“No, I mean-,” you winced when you realized what you had asked. “I was wondering whether your parents have thoughts about your younger sister having a kid before you.”

“Ah,” Jeonghan laughed with understanding. “No, they’re so elated to be grandparents, they could care less about me.”

“Got it,” you nodded. “Oh, aha!” you exclaimed when you finally found the document that you were looking for. You pulled it out and handed it to Jeonghan triumphantly.

“Thanks,” he smiled gratefully at you, thumbing through it. “Oh, actually, I did think of you this weekend though.”

“Oh?” you asked. You were surprised to hear that.

“Your little Pokemon.”

You nodded.

“I learned that Eevee has eight evolutions total, but you only have six?”

You nodded again. He was asking a question, but you weren’t totally sure what it was.

“Is there a reason you’re missing two? Are they hard to find or…?”

“Ah,” you nodded, feeling suddenly shy. “I only buy them to celebrate milestones. I have two more major milestones that I’d like to achieve, so I’ll buy the last two evolutions when that happens.”

Jeonghan felt an inexplicable tug in his chest. That was a much more meaningful answer than he’d expected. You waved before returning to your office and he was left wondering what you considered to be the next two major goals in your life. He felt sure that making partner was one of them, but he was at a loss for the other one. Starting your own firm? Becoming a judge?

Harris sat in his office, eyes closed and lips squeezed together in an effort not to burst out laughing. He could hear Maja in Peter’s office next door, giving him the dressing down of a lifetime. He jotted down a note as he eavesdropped. There had to be a relatively painless way of digitizing those files, right?

Maja returned to her desk after, once again, making her case for the files in the Law Library to be converted to digital. Peter could even keep his stupid nook, but she really needed to be able to utilize the ‘Ctrl + F’ function if he wanted to retain her on the team. Her workload had nearly doubled with the addition of supporting Jeonghan since the merger. The only way she was able to manage it was really due to your competencies. You both were organized and dedicated, which made her job easier in many ways.

…

Jeonghan’s brow furrowed when he looked up to see you, once again, absorbed in your phone. Someone had been texting you non-stop when you should have been working with him on the last minute appeal.

“Can you focus please?” he was surprised at how whiny he sounded when he asked.

“Sorry!” your face contorted apologetically as you pulled your attention from your phone.

Jeonghan rubbed his face with his hands. It wasn’t so much that you were on your phone, but rather the fact that you were clearly agitated by whatever you were reading on it.

“It’s-,” you cut yourself off before you could overshare. Flynn was upset that you needed to work late and you were tired of having to defend your career to him again and again.

“What is it?” Jeonghan asked. He would tell himself it was in the interest of getting back on task, but he was personally curious as well.

“Um,” you hemmed as you decided how much you wanted to share.

“It’s clearly upsetting you, whatever it is.”

“This guy I’ve been seeing. He’s upset at all the hours I’ve been working lately.”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows pinched together, clearly unimpressed.

“He’s a dermatologist, so his schedule is very regular. It’s hard for him to understand the demands of law, I guess,” you tried to justify it, but even as you spoke, you knew it was half hearted.

“Hm.”

It was just a single syllable and not even a real word, but it hung in the air with surprising weight before he spoke again.

“He doesn’t need to understand in order to be respectful. You excel at what you do and your career is a priority to you.”

You were taken aback. You’d never really second guessed the importance of your work, despite Flynn’s increasingly frequent episodes of frustration, but the way Jeonghan spoke so easily and surely about the matter gave you pause. For just a moment, you wondered whether you should reconsider Maja’s suggestion of dating a lawyer.

“I don’t see you with someone so insecure anyways,” Jeonghan sniffed. It was a scathing review of Flynn and also felt like a challenge to you to do better.

…

“YN! Jeonghan!” Professor Vance greeted you both with an impossibly wide grin before folding you into a big group hug.

“Hi Professor Vance!” you beamed as you felt yourself be squeezed into Jeonghan’s side. Professor Vance was in her late fifties, but she hugged like a bodybuilder in her late twenties.

“Hi Professor Vance,” Jeonghan laughed over her shoulder.

“Oh look at you two! You’ve grown up so well!” she tittered happily as she led you through the doorway.

You and Jeonghan seated yourself on the crushed velvet sofa in her office. You let out a surprised squeak when you sank into an enormous divot in the center, flush against each other. She’d had this thing since before you were both in law school and its age was starting to show.

“Sorry,” Jeonghan coughed as he struggled up onto his feet. You were so warm and soft against him.

“I’m so happy that you both agreed to mentor for this year’s Mock Trial!” Professor Vance clapped her hands together as she took her seat behind her desk. “The students last time gave such positive feedback. Even as opposing counsel, you two tend to be compatible,” she joked, eyes twinkling.

You and Jeonghan shared a glance.

“What is your availability to prep with the students this year? The date we set for the Mock Trial is in five months. Last time around we asked for bi-weekly meetings with the mentors for three months before the actual mock trial. Can you commit to the same amount of time again this year?”

You did the math quickly in your head. You estimated a total of seven meetings plus the Mock Trial itself, which was reasonable.

“Yes, I can,” Jeonghan answered. “I can probably be available for more, honestly, if needed.”

“Me too,” you nodded. You wanted to be sure that the students on both teams would get an equivalent amount of exposure.

“Wonderful! Would you prefer digital or physical copies of the case materials?”

“Both please,” you both answered at the same time.

Professor Vance nodded, a knowing smile gracing her lips for a mere moment. She still had fond memories of having you both in her class and it was fun for her to be able to interact with you in this way now. While not professional at all, she’d always wondered about your compatibility with each other. She had met her own partner in law school and she’d always seen a healthy competitiveness in your interactions with Jeonghan that mirrored her own relationship in some ways.

“Alright, here you are!” She returned from the printer with two warm stacks of paper. “Any preference for Plaintiff versus Defendant?”

“Flip a coin,” Jeonghan shrugged and you agreed.

“I don’t have any coins,” she laughed before handing you each a packet without checking the contents. “Should we follow up in a month to finalize meeting schedules? We can work around your availability.”

“That sounds good,” you nodded, standing up from the sofa. “It was so great to see you,” you beamed again at the older woman.

“Great to see you,” she agreed before shooing you out of her office.

“Are you hungry?” Jeonghan asked as you walked down the stairs.

“I could eat,” you nodded, amenable to the idea.

“Okay. Any preference? Otherwise I have a place in mind.”

“Go nuts,” you shrugged, itching to start reviewing your packet.

Jeonghan nodded, pulling the car out of the visitor parking lot. It had been a while since you’d been on campus and you couldn’t help but laugh about the unlawful pedestrian behavior, even though you’d both been guilty of the same yourselves.

“No peeking,” you held your hand up jokingly at Jeonghan as you pulled your mock trial packet out of its manila envelope.

“I have integrity,” he sniffed at you even though he had been planning to steal a glance or two.

“Oh and when exactly did you acquire that?” you quipped playfully.

Jeonghan surprised you by looking sheepish.

“Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad in school, was I?” he couldn’t help but ask.

You thought for a moment, trying to bring up an accurate recollection of Jeonghan in college. He had rounded out around the edges significantly, so it was difficult not to conflate the current version of him with the past.

“You were,” you finally sighed, “But I’ll say this. I was too! We were intolerable! It’s no wonder neither of us really had any friends.”

Jeonghan chuckled. This was true. He wouldn’t have considered you friends, but you’d spent a significant amount of time together because you just didn’t have anyone else to spend it with.

“We’re both a little different, huh?”

“A little,” you nodded. “But what hasn’t changed is that I am still intent on whooping your ass in mock trial!”

Jeonghan let out a loud, genuine laugh. Of course you were. Dinner passed quickly with pleasant teasing, fond reminiscing, and good, genuine conversation. It felt good to get to know this Jeonghan. It felt good to let him get to know you too.

“That was yummy! Thanks for picking,” you remarked as you left the restaurant, zipping your coat all the way up to stave off the chill that had set in. “Next time I’ll pick,” you grinned goofily at him.

“Sure, next time,” Jeonghan had to keep himself from tripping over his words at the way you smiled at him.

“It’s chilly!”

Jeonghan nodded, responding with something that you didn’t hear because your eyes noticed something that he definitely couldn’t see. You took him by the wrist and pulled him into a small gap between buildings. You panicked. Maja and Harri had been walking together, heading towards you and so you pressed your hand over Jeonghan’s eyes, backing him against a wall.

“YN, what-,” Jeonghan’s confusion was clear in his voice.

“Hold on, please,” you floundered. There was no way to explain this situation, so you just held yourself impossibly close to him until they passed.

Heat prickled up Jeonghan’s neck as he allowed you to keep him pinned. He couldn’t see you, but he could feel you; feel the heat from your body seeping into him. He succeeded in keeping his breathing even as your smell filled his nostrils. His hands itched to move to your waist, but he was at least able to control that part of his body.

“Okay, s-sorry,” you stammered when you were finally able to pull away.

Jeonghan blinked until his vision returned to normal. In your preoccupation over Maja and Harrison, you hadn’t noticed the flush that had risen in his cheeks nor the way his pulse had quickened at the feel of you pressed against him. As he tried to force his thoughts together, he couldn’t even be bothered to ask what the hell had caused that.

It was a tense and quiet car ride back to the office. Your mind bubbled with questions for Maja about Harris. Jeonghan’s mind was flooded with thoughts of you.

…

“I shall now render my verdict,” Harris cleared his throat. “The court finds this contract legally binding. The defendant and plaintiff shall marry.”

“What?” Jeonghan’s brows furrowed.

“That's wonderful news!” Peter cheered from the witness stand.

Jeonghan looked around frantically as he tried to make sense of the scene. Harris and Peter seemed to melt away when his eyes landed on you, seated at the opposing bench.

“YN?” he was still confused, but a sense of calm had washed over him.

“Hi Jeonghan,” you approached him with a smile. “I suppose we have to get married.”

“What is Harris talking about?”

“Our marriage contingency contract,” you cocked your head at him, as if speaking to a child. “Don't you remember?”

Jeonghan shook his head again. He felt like he did. He felt like he didn’t.

“Here,” a sheet of paper materialized in your hands. “Legally binding, feel free to review.”

His eyes ran across the papers, taking in the words. The memory of this document came flooding back and he turned to you again.

“Aren't you upset about the ruling?”

“Oh? Why would I be upset? I'm the one who brought you to court. This is my desired outcome…”

Jeonghan woke with a start. He could still feel the sensation of your hand in his. In the dream, of course.

“That was fucking weird,” he shook his head furiously.

He got up and hopped in the shower, running it on the cool side in the hopes that it would snap him out of this weird dream funk. He was in the middle of drying his hair when the actual memory of presenting you with that contract snapped back to him.

He chuckled at his former self. He could now recall writing, rewriting, and re-rewriting that contract so that it was truly bulletproof. Why he had put so much effort into a fake document was beyond him. He'd so enjoyed getting a rise out of you back then that it had been more than worth it.

For a moment he wondered whether he still had the document, but then realized that he really needed to finish getting ready. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind for now.

“Morning Maja,” he greeted her on the way in. He had an intake meeting with a client today and needed to finish getting ready.

He had given some thought to the strange interaction he'd had with you the other day. His physical reaction to you had surprised him, but he figured he would've been surprised if anyone else had done that to him too! It was normal and he could be normal about it.

Really it would be weirder if he hadn't been flustered by it!

“Are you okay?” Maja’s voice shook him from his attempt to reassure himself. He’d been standing outside of his office door for five minutes now.

“Yeah sorry,” he coughed before stepping into his office and shutting the door behind himself.

Maja's brow wrinkled. She wasn't sure she'd ever heard Jeonghan apologize for no reason before.

“Morning Maja!” you greeted her sunnily about half an hour later.

“Morning,” she met your gaze with a brief nod before returning to her work.

You stepped into your office and narrowed your eyes at her through the blinds. After you’d seen her out with Harris, you’d waited anxiously for an update that never came. Towards the end of the week and throughout the weekend, you’d even sent occasional, lightly prodding texts and you had nothing to show for it. She was your best friend! You deserved to know the scoop!

You took a second or two longer to be indignant before starting on your work. You’d just been assigned a wrongful termination lawsuit and were eager to get after it! You had a client intake meeting scheduled in the afternoon, so the morning was dedicated to initial document review.

Jeonghan scowled at you through the window. Not that he was keeping tabs on you, but you kept walking up to your window and staring out through the blinds. Most of your face was obscured, so he couldn’t tell whether your eyes were twinkling with mischief or rage. Probably best to assume rage and be pleasantly surprised.

You thought furiously as you watched Harris move across the office. There hadn’t been all that much documentation to go through from the client, and so your mind had returned to the Maja and Harris problem. You’d done some light snooping through shared calendars and noticed a few lunchtime blocks that looked suspect. An idea popped into your head suddenly and you burst through the door into Peter’s office.

“Hey, are you busy?” you asked, even though he was staring into space with a Rubik’s cube in his hand.

“No, what’s up?”

“I was just thinking that I don’t know Harris very well, but I feel like I should get to know him better. Can you tell me maybe some stuff about him so I have some conversation starters?”

“Oh of course!” Peter clapped his hands together, the Rubik’s cube falling onto the carpeted ground. “Oops. What do you want to know?”

“Hm, what are his interests?” you start broadly. Your strategy was to chat with Harris in the hopes that he let something slip, so knowing what you could even talk to him about was a start.

“Oh! Let’s see, he enjoys golfing and skiing.”

You struggled not to roll your eyes. Between him and Jeonghan, you weren’t sure who would win ‘least interesting interests’. What was the draw for Maja? Maybe you should’ve been actively working to split them up.

“Hmm, oh! It’s maybe a little out there, but he makes pet beds for the local shelter?”

“What?” you almost yelled. Now this made sense as a selling point for Maja. “That’s so cute, what the hell?”

“Isn’t it?” Peter gushed. You had always been grateful that Peter knew how to be unserious when the situation called for it.

Jeonghan’s brow furrowed as he overheard you and Peter tittering about something. For a managing partner, Peter could be quite goofy. Jeonghan had a sudden flashback to the day you’d asked him about Harris’ perspective on dating policy. He shook his head. No, there was no way. You’d said you were seeing someone else.

“Oh my gosh, yes. It is so cute, you should definitely ask him about it.”

“Oh I absolutely will,” you nodded excitedly. That was the perfect conversation starter. Fun and personal in a way that could open the door to other, more personal questions. “Anything else?”

“Oh also his hometown! He goes to visit often.”

Of course! You'd overheard Maja and Harris when you'd gone to visit Yiayia. Why hadn't you thought of that sooner? That was a perfect segue to bring Maja into a conversation with Harris.

“You're a genius, I'm obsessed with you,” you thanked Peter before practically bouncing back to your office.

…

Jeonghan’s jaw was tense. He’d been watching you talk to Harris for probably fifteen minutes and he could not, for the life of him, figure out why you were smiling so much. He’d worked with Harris for four years and could barely remember a single time when he had made Jeonghan laugh. Whatever he was sharing with you or you were sharing with him seemed to be endlessly entertaining, though.

Maja failed to hold in a grin as she watched Jeonghan watch you. She’d also noticed you talking to Harris for an atypically long time. Unlike Jeonghan, she could recognize it for what it was: snooping. Maja did feel a little guilty about not updating you on the status of things with Harris, but for now it was something that she just needed to keep to herself.

“You good?” she finally asked.

“Oh, what? Yeah,” Jeonghan sputtered and coughed, completely caught off guard.

“Okay, you looked like you were able to burst a blood vessel,” she couldn’t help but tease.

“I’m fine,” he dusted himself off needlessly, but lingered.

“She’s good, huh?” Maja gestured towards you. Jeonghan made a face, indicating he wasn’t quite sure what she was referring to. “YN. She’s very good at connecting with people.”

“Ah,” Jeonghan nodded, considering this for a moment. “She was like that in college too.”

“Oh I always forget that you two went to school together. How was that?”

“It was…,” Jeonghan struggled to find words that felt adequate. “Frustrating. Hard. Fun.”

Maja’s eyebrows raised. She had looked back at him during his long pause and she was surprised at the way his expression changed and softened as he tried to describe his time with you. She wondered if he realized it. She was sure that you didn’t.

…

You smiled as you watched Jeonghan coach the students. It was interesting to see him outside of his normal comfort zone and it surprised you at how gentle he could be when functioning in a mentor capacity.

“YN? What do you think about this argument?” one of the students asked, pointing to a slew of bullet points in their notebook.

“Let me see!” you smiled, eyes scanning the page. “This is awesome!”

You were so impressed by the students participating in this year’s mock trial. This was only your second meeting with them and they had already developed solid arguments with sufficient supporting articles. You reviewed more of the students' arguments and gave feedback about potential rebuttals. As you were running out of time, you asked the students to think through those in preparation for your next meeting. When you looked back up, Jeonghan’s eyes were on you.

He was surprised when you met his gaze. Even though he was a lawyer who was paid to keep his cool, it still felt embarrassing to be caught staring. He let himself believe that he didn’t let it show. True to form, you didn’t break eye contact either and the stare grew tense, laden. It sent a thrill through you that surprised you.

“Okay, thank you for your time!” the students piped up, starting to pack their bags. “We’ll see you in two weeks?”

“Yes!” you beamed, standing to gather your things as well. How long had you been looking at him? You hoped it hadn’t been noticeable.

“Those two need to fuck,” one of the students commented once they were outside of the law building and well out of earshot. The rest of the students chuckled in agreement.

…

“Dinner?” Jeonghan suggested as you crossed the quad towards the parking lot. “If you’re free.” he added, remembering that it was a Friday, after all.

“I am free,” you nodded, “But whether I want to have dinner with you is another question,” you shot him a cheeky grin.

Jeonghan’s eyebrow raised, tongue pressing against his cheek as he looked you over. You were so terribly annoying. He smiled at the way you pretended to consider before nodding.

“I could eat. And I said I’d pick this time, right?”

“Yes.” Jeonghan looked down at you. His hair had grown longer in the past month and it was starting to fall into his eyes.

“Hmm,” you went through a mental rolodex of restaurants that you liked. “Have you been to Krazy Bao?”

“No.”

“Are you a sushi purist?”

“...no? What does that even mean?”

“Great!” you clapped your hands together excitedly. “Oh wait, we drove separately. Want me to text you the address?”

Jeonghan nodded. You had recently exchanged personal phone numbers, but had yet to need them. Between seeing each other nearly every day at the office and these mock trial meetings, everything you had to say to each other could easily be done in person. His phone pinged and he pulled it out before shooting you a thumbs up.

“Okay, beat you there!” you waved over your head as you walked to your car. You were starving.

“So these are like…sushi balls?” Jeonghan tried to make sense of the menu.

“Yes, but they’re also filled. So they’re onigiri inspired as well.”

“Huh,” he nodded. It wasn’t traditional, but they did look pretty tasty. “What’s your favorite?”

“Depends on my mood, but usually the tuna and the krab ones are my favorite.”

He nodded again, zeroing in on the eel, which looked interesting. You waffled about what to choose until the server arrived, forcing you to make a decision.

“So what do you think of your team this year?” you asked after they left.

“Really impressed. You?”

“Me too! I don’t know about your team, but my students are so prepared! I’m not even sure we took it this seriously when we did it?”

Jeonghan laughed, taking a sip of his tea. He disagreed about that. He remembered both of you acting as if mock trials were life or death ordeals.

“But yes, so so impressed. As a mentor, I’m sure I shouldn’t be saying this, but sorry to you and your team and prepare to eat shit.”

“Oh really?” Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at you coolly as your server returned with cocktails. “I’m not sure what set of evidence Professor Vance gave you, but we got this in the bag.”

He leaned back, crossed his arms, and gave you a once over that made you feel tiny and indignant. Your mind raced for a moment, reviewing the evidence in your mind before you realized what was happening. He was playing mind games and he had succeeded in getting under your skin. He chuckled as he watched the realization settle across your brow.

“Ha ha, very funny,” you stuck your tongue out at him. “You always did enjoy annoying me.”

“It’s still fun to get under your skin,” he admitted, taking a sip of his cocktail.

You squinted at him.

“What have you been doing for fun lately?” you asked after a short silence.

Jeonghan paused for a moment. He was really drawing a blank.

“Nothing?” you looked aghast when he wasn’t able to answer.

“Do you have time for fun?” he marveled. You worked just as much as he did.

“I…,” you had managed to give yourself pause.

“See? You're a workaholic too! I’m willing to bet that you don’t have any hobbies.”

“You said you snowboard, right?” you were scrambling for something. Anything. “And I…I bake!”

Jeonghan’s left brow raised in disbelief.

“I know how to bake.” you corrected yourself.

“The demands of an associate trying to make partner are crazy. It’s futile to try and have a life outside of that.”

You furrowed your brows at him. Why did it feel like you’d had this conversation with him before? The server interrupted your thoughts with your food and you were happy to set them aside.

“What did you think?”

“It was good. I would come back here,” Jeonghan nodded and you preened.

You filled the silence with occasional comments as you walked towards the parking lot where you’d left your cars. You were caught off guard when Jeonghan stopped, putting several paces between you before you noticed.

“Oh. I know where we are!” he stated. “There’s a nice bar like a block that way,” he pointed down the crossroad.

“Oh? Wine bar? Cocktails? Whiskey?” you found yourself asking.

“You wanna go?” he asked. He didn’t want the night to end just yet.

“Oh…yes? We might have to pay for more parking though,” you thought out loud.

“I’ll go put more change in the meters. We probably only have to pay for like thirty more minutes. The place is called Bar Argos. Save me a seat,” Jeonghan pointed towards it again before he set off to top off the meters.

You found the place with no trouble, but your jaw dropped when you walked in. Bar Argos was located in a refurbished historic building and the inside was absolutely incredible. The walls were painted a rich, dark green and were teeming with artwork in beautiful frames. The shelves were adorned with books and plants with tendrils that curled towards the ground. Once you had finished gawking, you snagged two stools at the bar where you were presented with a menu.

“Have you been here before?” an unfamiliar voice asked over your shoulder.

“No, I haven’t,” you shook your head, turning to face the speaker.

“Would you care for a recommendation?” the young man smiled at you.

“I would!” you nodded.

He settled in next to you, asking you questions about what you liked to drink. You were still conversing animatedly with him when Jeonghan entered. He scowled immediately at the proximity of this stranger and also saw an opportunity to mess with you.

“Sorry that took so long,” he interrupted the conversation smoothly, positioning himself tightly behind you, resting his arm on the bar. “Hello,” he greeted the other man coolly.

“Oh, hello? Are you-?” the man gestured between you and Jeonghan.

“Yes, she’s taken.”

You balked. You were not!

“Are you?” the man followed up with you directly.

Jeonghan let out a puff of laughter, a derisive scoff, which tickled the hair on your head and zipped down your spine. You coughed at the stranger, allowing him to draw his own conclusion.

“What the hell, Jeonghan?” you demanded as the other man made himself scarce.

“You shouldn’t be flirting with other people,” he tsked at you.

“We’re not together!” you hissed at him. You had wanted to shout, but the bar was too quiet for that.

“You are taken, though,” he looked down at you.

You were quiet. You hadn't shared with Jeonghan that you'd broken up with Flynn weeks ago. Part of it was because it wasn't his business. Part of it was because you didn't want him to presume that it was due to his opinion of Flynn. As if you held his opinion in such high regard!

“What do you want?” he asked, finally moving into the seat next to you. He'd been standing behind you for so long that a shiver ran down your back at the cool of his absence.

“Ah,” you shook yourself to attention. “I thought the absinthe looked interesting. I've never seen it offered anywhere else.”

“For all the times I've been here, I've never tried it,” Jeonghan’s eyebrows raised with interest. “Let's do it!”

You and Jeonghan promptly learned that drinking absinthe was quite a time consuming ordeal. It involved placing a sugar cube on a special spoon and letting water drip, slowly dissolving the sugar into the absinthe.

“Have you ever considered teaching?” you asked as you watched the ripples skip across the surface of the absinthe.

“Law?”

“No, cooking,” you rolled your eyes.

“Why are you asking this? So I'll leave the firm and you’re assured partnership?”

You coughed with surprise. That hadn't even crossed your mind but it was an excellent bonus perk!

“Another pro for the pro column,” you joked. “No, you just seem good at it. Don't get me wrong, you're great in the courtroom for sure, but you're surprisingly constructive and encouraging with the students. I just wondered.”

Jeonghan glanced over at you. The dual-wielded compliment caught him off guard. He had been enjoying mentoring an unexpected amount, but he was surprised that you'd noticed.

“Thanks,” he finally responded. “I have been enjoying it a lot, but I’m not sure I’m cut out to fully teach. I still have a short fuse for nonsense, after all,” he laughed.

You laughed, watching as the last shards of sugar dissolved into the absinthe. What had started out as a bright green liquid had turned a cloudy chartreuse and you regarded it with curiosity.

“Anise,” you wrinkled your nose after catching the scent.

“Very,” Jeonghan nodded.

You tipped your glasses together before taking a sip. Your expression moved into one of pleasant surprise while Jeonghan’s pinched together with displeasure.

“No good?” you asked. “I kind of like it!”

“It's…odd.”

It was odd. Herbal and sweetly spiced, the absinthe warmed you from the inside out. You felt like you were drinking a potion.

“I’m not sure this is for me,” Jeonghan declared, smacking his lips after another taste. He continued to sip on the beverage anyways.

“How's your sister doing?” you asked, recalling your conversation from weeks ago.

“Good!”

His sister and her family had been in town to visit last weekend and he had enjoyed seeing his niece again. Though just over five years old, she was already quite a spitfire with a lot of very interesting opinions. Seeing her again had reminded him of your milestone Pokemon again.

“Can I ask you about your Pokemon again?”

“Oh sure?” you smiled at him.

“What are the last two milestones that you’re hoping to achieve?”

You blinked. The question was personal and direct. You regarded Jeonghan for a moment or two before answering. You two shared some semblance of friendship now, it shouldn't be too weird to share with him, right?

“Making partner and getting married.” Your skin prickled. You’d been wrong, it did feel weird to share this with him.

“Ah,” Jeonghan nodded. He was surprised at the way he felt flustered by your answer. “Well, you're well on your way to both, right?”

You gave him a look of confusion.

“I mean, you're clearly on your way to making partner and you've been seeing…that person.” Jeonghan omitted his opinion that they still didn't deserve you.

“Ah,” the sound you let out was viscerally awkward. “We broke up.”

Jeonghan’s hand stilled over his glass and his eyebrows raised with surprise.

“And on the matter of partner,” you barreled through your strange confession, “We’ll see. I still see you as my number one threat.”

You thought about slapping your hand over your mouth. Absinthe had clearly been a mistake. Or you'd at least tell yourself that.

Jeonghan smirked, fingertips now resting against the rim of his glass. The two revelations back to back felt like a sucker punch. You were single. You'd been flirting with that man earlier because you'd wanted to. You still saw him as an adversary.

“I think that's fair,” he nodded as you watched him carefully, “I am a threat.”

Jeonghan regretted his words immediately. He liked to think he was self aware, knew how to keep a lid on the pettier side of himself, so it did surprise him when it reared, crept up and spoke for him.

You blinked. You were surprised that you were surprised. This was the Jeonghan that you knew, after all, but you'd fallen into a false sense of camaraderie and for that you chided yourself.

…

Jeonghan rubbed his hands over his face as he tossed around in bed later. He’d tried not to dwell on the conversation from earlier and failed. After spending some time kicking himself for his needlessly stupid response his mind turned to the topic of you and marriage. It reminded him, again, of the contract he’d dreamt about. He could remember signing it, but honestly wasn’t sure whether it was just a figment of his own imagination.

He spent the next morning rifling through his home office without success. On his way to work, he wondered whether you remembered it, but after last night he had little confidence that he could ask about it in a way that wasn’t wholly humiliating.

…

Your fingertips tapped against the desk with irritation as you reviewed additional documents from your wrongful termination suit. You’d met with your client a few more times and the more she had shared, the more livid you’d become. This workplace seemed to be mired in racism and classism and you now had a totally professional and not personal vendetta against them. There was a half-formed idea in your brain to pay them a visit, undercover, to see whether you observed the same behaviors yourself, but they were a wedding venue so you probably couldn’t just show up alone.

“Maja,” you stepped out of your office, “I need help.”

“What’s up?”

“Who would make a believable fake fiance for me? I want to visit the defendant in that wrongful termination suit, but I need to show up as a couple so it doesn’t come across as weird.”

“Ah,” Maja nodded, eyebrows raising with surprise.

It had been quite some time since you’d pulled one of your undercover visits. It was usually a good sign for your clients when you were that invested, but it certainly wasn’t without risks.

“What about Kevin?” you wondered aloud. He was a few years your junior and was amiable enough to let you take the lead on most things, which would allow you to steer the visit however you wished.

“Kevin?” Maja’s face wrinkled with disapproval. She counted him among the more feeble minded attorneys. Milquetoast, in fact, and not ever a suitable counterpart to you. “Absolutely not.”

Jeonghan chuckled at Maja’s expression as he walked by. Whatever you were discussing was clearly not up to snuff.

“Jeonghan, what do you think?” Maja surprised you both by roping him into the conversation.

“About?” he paused, turning to face you.

“Who do you think can pass as a fake fiance for YN?” she asked. Maja had a feeling she knew his answer, but she was curious whether he would say it to you out loud.

“Fiance?” Jeonghan echoed. Your mind was a mystery to him.

“It’s for a case,” you clarified. “Wrongful term and I’m curious to observe the environment myself.”

Jeonghan nodded and turned his eyes towards his colleagues. Even though he’d gone through this mental exercise already and knew that no one was suitable, he pretended to consider the other attorneys in relation to you.

“No one seems right,” he shrugged.

“Not even Kevin?” Maja pried.

“Especially not Kevin,” Jeonghan looked at you as if you’d grown a second head.

You frowned, crossing your arms. Maja and Jeonghan taking the same side against you was certainly new.

“What about me?” Jeonghan offered himself up.

“What about you?” you asked as Maja lit up with delight.

“I’ll go with you. We know each other well, I could pull off fake fiance.”

“You did go to school together,” Maja nodded, “And you’re both doing that mock trial thing. You’re probably closer than any of the other attorneys here.”

You considered her points and determined that they were valid. You gave Jeonghan a once over before reluctantly agreeing. It was a pinch, so he would have to do.

…

You let out a small puff of disbelief as your eyes landed on Jeonghan. You had never really seen him in ‘day off’ clothes before and you were surprised at how handsome he looked. His hair was down and fell slightly into his face. Without planning it, you’d both worn oversized cardigans and jeans. A happy accident as it made you look like a coordinated couple.

“Morning,” he blinked at you as if still waking up. “Do you want to drive? Or me?”

“I don’t mind driving,” you shrugged, pointing towards your car. The whole ordeal was your idea to begin with.

“Sounds good,” he nodded, hair falling into his eyes.

“Do you need coffee?” you asked as you buckled your seatbelt.

“Yes, your treat since I’m doing you a favor.”

“You offered! I was going to ask Kevin!”

“You're lucky I did. Do you think anyone would believe that you and Kevin have anything other than a professional relationship?”

You pressed your lips together. While you didn’t disagree with Jeonghan, this also left a dangling implication that you and he shared something that did pass as more than professional. You shook your head. You needed to get along today and coffee was a small price to pay.

“Okay, deal,” you shrugged as you pulled out of the parking lot. There was a coffee shop on the way to the destination, so you’d make a stop there.

“What do you want?” you asked, standing a typical distance from him.

Jeonghan clicked his tongue with disapproval before looping his arm through yours and pulling you against his side.

“Black coffee,” he grinned, smug.

You cleared your throat as you placed your order. It wasn’t unpleasant, just a surprise.

“Oh, before I forget,” Jeonghan dug through his pockets as you waited. “Here.”

He fished out two rings, placing the band on his ring finger before handing the other to you.

“Oh my god, I didn't even think-, thank you,” your eyes widened.

Jeonghan grinned, more than pleased with himself. You slid the ring onto your left hand, surprised that it was a decent fit. Maybe half a size too big, but better than you would've done.

“Kevin would not have remembered rings.”

You rolled your eyes. What would it take for him to let this Kevin thing go?

“So what's our story again? They're a wedding business of some sort?”

You nodded before filling in the details. They were an upscale wedding venue and your client was suing for wrongful termination. She alleged that they had a history of selecting clients based on discriminatory criteria, such as appearance or race.

“Oh. Shitty,” Jeonghan’s nose wrinkled as you returned to the car.

“Very. So we're engaged and checking out the venue, but also snooping.”

“Okay, got it. Do we have a backstory that we're sticking to?”

“I figured we'd just say we met in law school. It's true enough…,” you shrugged. You hadn't actually put that much thought into it.

Jeonghan nodded.

“Hello, good morning!” The receptionist greeted you sunnily as you entered.

“Good morning,” you smiled at the double greeting.

“Mr. and Mrs. Yoon-to-be, I presume?”

“Yes!” you smiled, tucking your arm into Jeonghan’s as he blinked.

“Wonderful! Congratulations on the pending nuptials. Please follow me,” she gestured down a hallway.

As you followed, Jeonghan wondered why ‘Mr. and Mrs. Yoon’ had thrown him for such a loop.

“Please wait here, Delia will be in shortly to walk you through the property.”

“Thank you!”

“This place is crazy,” Jeonghan remarked as he wandered around the office. You had to agree. It reeked of opulence.

“Would you get married here? I'm not sure it's my style.”

“I don't care about the venue. I'm marrying the person, not the place,” he answered seriously.

“Mr. and Mrs. Yoon!” a woman, presumably Delia, burst into the room shortly after that. “Or do you prefer to be called by your maiden name, still?” she clarified with you.

“Mrs. Yoon is fine,” you smiled at her.

Jeonghan felt warm under his cardigan. Mrs. Yoon this and Mrs. Yoon that.

“Wonderful! Well thank you so much for your patience. Let's get started with our tour!”

You held in a chuckle. She was so bubbly. You snuck a glance at Jeonghan but he was distracted by something or the other. You slipped your hand back into his to catch his attention as you listened to the wide array of amenities the venue had to offer. In-house florists, catering, and music were just a few of the laundry list of items that Delia highlighted.

“So how did you two meet?” she inevitably asked.

“We went to law school together,” you smiled, looking towards Jeonghan for good measure.

“Ah! Was it love at first sight? Did you develop feelings during a partner project? Tell me all about it!”

“It certainly wasn't love at first sight,” Jeonghan laughed.

“No,” you chuckled in agreement.

“We were rivals, you could say,” Jeonghan continued. “She was such a pain in my ass for so many reasons, but at the end of the day those are also the things that make her great.”

Your eyebrows had disappeared into your hairline and you were doing your best to keep your jaw off the ground. You had to commend Jeonghan, he really was good at making shit up.

“At one point we even signed a contract agreeing to marry each other if we were both single at thirty. Luckily we had some realizations before it came to that, though.”

You stopped so suddenly that Jeonghan nearly walked into you. His hands moved around your waist to keep you moving at Delia’s pace.

“Oh my god!” Delia squealed with delight. “Rivals to lovers, that's like something out of a movie!”

Jeonghan watched you from the corner of his eye. You seemed a little flustered, but he wondered if this was just wishful thinking.

“Did you have feelings for him when you signed the contract? I mean why would you sign it otherwise!” Delia asked, the tour becoming an afterthought at this point.

“I-um,” you stammered. You struggled to form your thoughts. “I never disliked him, even though it might've seemed that way. Even though he was annoying in many regards, I respected him at least. That’s more than I could’ve said for some of our other classmates.”

Jeonghan looked at you with interest, the corners of his lips curled up into a soft smile.

“I guess…,” your eyebrows furrowed. You were just processing out loud now. “I guess some part of me felt that it would be okay if I did end up with him. We share a lot of values…we have things in common.”

You couldn't bring yourself to look at Jeonghan. You briefly considered jumping off of the second story balcony.

“Oh my god, I am trying not to scream,” Delia’s expression was pinched as she gathered herself to continue the tour. She led you through a set of french doors into the gardens.

Jeonghan was trying to keep a lid on his thoughts. He had wanted to gauge your reaction to the mention of the contract, but now he couldn't tell if you'd just decided to commit really hard to the bit.

“Here are our gardens! As you may know, we specialize in centifolia roses, or cabbage roses.”

“Jeonghan!” you made a beeline for the shrubs, pulling a large bloom towards you. “These are huge!” you remarked, turning to show Jeonghan.

He laughed as he watched you hold the rose up to your head for comparison. You were being so painfully adorable.

Delia watched you two contentedly. She let you and Jeonghan wander around the rose garden until you were satisfied.

“We also have a suite of hotel rooms on premise for the wedding party.”

“Oh that is convenient,” you nodded up at Jeonghan. You were fully immersed.

“Yes,” he smiled at you. He had an errant thought that there wasn’t much he’d say no to when it came to you. The way that cabbage rose had made you smile would’ve made anything else worth whatever the ridiculous cost.

You grinned back up at him. For a moment, you two just held each other’s gaze. A light breeze scattered Jeonghan’s bangs into his eyes. You reached up to push them aside so he could see again. As you pulled your arm back, Jeonghan caught you by the hand and placed a soft, open-mouthed kiss on the inside of your wrist.

You blinked. Your heart raced at the intimate touch.

“Oh you two are so sweet it makes me want to lie down in oncoming traffic!”

“What?!” you let out a laugh that was half cough.

“The way you look at each other. I can tell that you care about each other deeply. We can be somewhat selective about the clients we take on, but safe to say that you meet the expectations.”

“Oh, sorry?” your and Jeonghan’s ears pricked to attention.

“Yes! Weddings here are very coveted and exclusive, so we have to be quite choosy about who makes the cut. We have a reputation to keep up, after all!”

“Oh? Tell us more please!” you smiled, patting Jeonghan’s hand excitedly. He gripped your fingers in response.

“Well…I’m not supposed to share this, but I’m also so obsessed with you two,” Delia’s eyes glanced around conspiratorially. “We are very…considerate of our branding. There are…certain demographics and lifestyles that just aren’t compatible with the brand, so we steer clear. But you two…attractive, beautiful lawyers with a compelling story, we would be honored to work with you on your special day!”

You smiled and nodded in agreement, but there was something about the way Delia said ‘demographics’ and ‘lifestyles’ that seemed…consistent with what your client had shared with you. You decided to play dumb.

“Sorry what does that mean?” you asked. Widening your eyes in a way you hoped looked slightly confused and innocent.

“Well, you know,” Delia tried to clarify gingerly, “Like…lower income. Or, um…same sex, couples. I don’t agree, of course! But that is our kind of unwritten rule.”

“Of course, we understand,” Jeonghan spoke after realizing you were deep in furious thought. “Thank you so much for showing us around! What’s the process for following up and seeing which dates are available?”

“Of course!” Delia smiled brightly at him. She led you back to one of the front offices and assembled a packet of handouts and pamphlets with further instructions before seeing you out.

“Thank you very much!” you waved at her as you left.

“Wow that’s…something,” Jeonghan blinked once you were safely out of earshot.

“I fucking hate the wedding industry,” you grumbled as you let yourself into the car. “Bunch of bullshit.”

“I thought you wanted to get married.”

“I do, but I’m not getting married for the material things. I’d get married because we love each other!”

Jeonghan’s lips curled into a smile. It was irrational, but he allowed himself to enjoy the way you’d said ‘we’.

It was quiet as you drove, which allowed you to think. You’d pushed it aside for a moment, but your mind now returned to the contract Jeonghan had mentioned. Honestly you'd forgotten about it, but as soon as he'd mentioned it the memory had snapped back into clear focus. At the time, the explanation for why you’d signed it had been simple: you’d let yourself be goaded by Jeonghan. He had always been good at getting under your skin. Now when you thought about it, you were surprised to feel that what you’d told Delia felt true. It wouldn’t be the end of the world to end up with Jeonghan.

“Are you hungry?” you turned to Jeonghan, feeling the start of a pang of emptiness in your stomach.

“I could eat,” he shrugged.

“Okay, I’m getting so hungry,” you nodded, “Can you see what’s close? Anything will do.”

Jeonghan nodded, fingertips tapping his phone screen quickly. He gave you directions to what looked like a tin shed.

“It said it was barbeque,” he offered as explanation and you laughed. You had said anything would do.

“I will eat you if we don’t get some food soon,” you muttered under your breath as you got out of the car.

“Howdy, y’all!” a short, curvy hostess greeted you with a smile, “Just the two of you today?”

You nodded before shooting Jeonghan a look. This seemed to be a Hooters style establishment with a southern theme. You struggled to hold in a laugh as you were ushered to a booth.

“Can I get you started with anything to drink?” the hostess asked while making googly eyes at Jeonghan.

“I’ll have a coke and my wife…,” he gestured towards you to order. You pretended not to notice the waitress’ crestfallen look as you asked for a lemonade.

“No ice,” he clarified for you before the server had a chance to leave.

“You’re really leaning into this, huh?” you remarked, surprised that he’d remembered your aversion to ice.

“I prefer not to be solicited by my server,” Jeonghan leaned back. Whether he actually liked pretending to be engaged or married to you was his business for now. “It feels okay to be with you,” his smile was now teasing.

“Oh god,” you groaned, lifting your menu to block his mischievous gaze. He was quoting you.

“If I didn’t know you any better, I might think you liked me.”

“I did like you,” you blurted without thinking, “Wait, no,” you clarified. “I mean that I meant what I said to Delia. Even though you annoyed me, I respected you and admired you.”

Jeonghan wanted to ask whether you’d meant the other part of your statement to Delia too.

“And now?” he asked instead, “That was past tense.”

“I respect and admire you now, too,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. He was fishing, but you were happy to give him the compliment anyways.

Jeonghan grinned at you in an easy way that made your heart flip flop.

“Stop that,” you had to look away.

“Stop what?” he waggled his eyebrows at you playfully, grin still plastered across his face.

You weren't able to meet his gaze for a few more minutes, which pleased him inordinately. Were you losing your mind?

back to index | chapter 3

#jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x reader #svthub #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seungkwansphd:writes #room for interpretation

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