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#i wrote this when i had the flu
bettycanavosio · 1 year
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HAIKU I: THE OLD COUNTRY [1/15]
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shebsart · 1 year
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Im sick with flu so naturally I picked up my newly bought copy of Howl's Moving Castle which includes DWJ interviews in the back.
And im in love with the way she tells these stories feels like a part of her books.
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And my favorite:
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The magic in the mundane :)
edit: I'm copying the ID by @princess-of-purple-prose below, thank you!
[ID: Excerpts of printed text which read:
I suppose there's also a biographical element in that Sophie is the eldest of three sisters, and so am I. The idea for Sophie grew out of the time I discovered I had a very severe milk allergy. I almost lost the use of my legs and had to walk with the aid of a stick. I was moderately young, but because of this I suddenly became old.
I had to wait until I knew what Wizard Howl was like. I began to discover Howl about the time when one of my sons took to spending several hours in the bathroom every morning and I got really, really, really annoyed with him.
Where were you when you wrote it? I wrote the book the way I write everything, stretched out on the big sofa in my sitting room, in everyone's way. This often annoys my husband rather a lot.
which made me burst out laughing. I laughed and laughed at the seven league boot, and when I came to the bit where Sophie accidentally makes Howl's suit twenty times too big for him, I laughed so much that I fell off the sofa. My husband was really irritated by this time. He snapped, "You can't be making yourself laugh!" And I gasped, "But I am, I am!" and rolled about on the floor.
Are any of your relatives or friends included in the book? Yes, well the thing that started me off writing the book was a friend of mine who never does her laundry. She has it around the place in huge bags for often as much as a year. When she does tip it all out and try to wash it, she discovers all sorts of clothes that she has forgotten she had.
Which is your favourite part of the book and why? I like the book all over, but I suppose if I had to choose a bit, I'd choose the place where Howl gets a cold. It so happened that when I was writing this bit, my husband caught a bad cold. He is the world's most histrionic cold catcher. He moans, he coughs, he piles on the pathos, he makes strange noises, he blows his nose exactly like a bassoon in a tunnel, he demands bacon sandwiches at all hours, and he is liable to appear (usually wrapped in someone else's dressing gown) at any time, announcing that he is dying of neglect and boredom. So all I had to do was write it down. End ID]
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bluebeary-jay · 8 months
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Damage done
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Pre/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: during a fight with Joel, he unknowingly sends you into a panic attack caused by your previous experiences. he deeply regrets it. (based on this wonderful ask!)
Tags: heavy ANGST, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending (there's also fluff), established relationship, petnames, soft!Joel (he's trying his best fr 🥺). Several years pre outbreak. please read the warnings carefully
Warnings: fighting, talk and mention about previous abusive relationship, panic attack, emotional distress, self-destructive thoughts
Word count: 4K
A/N: i wrote it partially based on experiences with my own panic attacks, but i know everyone's is different. if there's a warning i missed, please let me know. also i want this man to take care of me so much 😢 anyway, stay safe, darlings, and as always: happy reading and i hope you'll enjoy!! 💕 comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 😌
It had been a rough couple of weeks. Things at your work were rocky to say the least, what with your boss firing several people every week and cutting your salary. Joel didn’t have it much better – from what you understood, two clients suddenly canceled their order, and Tommy got himself thrown into jail, again, breaking his longest record to date. On top of that, little Sarah went down with some kind of flu that was raging in schools recently, and for the last two weeks one of you had to be home with her almost all the time.
So it was probably no wonder that the tension and stress became too much at one point, and you both snapped.
It was about the play at Sarah’s school.
“You promised her, Joel! She was talking about it for the entire week.”
“It’s not my fault we have to go out of town on this date,” he answered through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and not looking up at you. “I tried to reschedule, but the commissioning party refused. I can’t help it, for fuck’s sake.”
You were glad Sarah wasn’t home right now to listen to your fight. You dropped her off earlier at her friend’s house because she wanted to practice lines for the play they were doing next week. The play that Joel was apparently planning to miss.
You adored Joel – god, you loved him with all that you had – but he could be so stubborn sometimes, it was driving you up the fricking wall.
“It’s your kid, Joel–”
“Yeah, it’s my kid!” he raised his voice, only now lifting his head. His stare was cold and hard, so unlike how he usually looked at you. “Not yours.”
“Are you kidding me?!” you shouted, hurt by his words and the tone he used. “I’ve been taking care of her, loving her– She is like a daughter to me!”
“But still not yours,” he repeated harshly. That was a low blow, especially when he told you so many times that you might not be Sarah’s biological mother, but it’s obvious you love her like she’s your own blood.
“You’re only saying that ‘cause you know I’m right,” you snarled angrily, and Joel huffed a humorless laugh.
“Of course. You always know better, dont’cha?” He stood up, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. If anything, it only made you more mad, as if he was doing this to intimidate you. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible father in your eyes, but I have to think about earning money. Especially since it’s only a matter of time ‘till that asshole boss of yours will fire you, too.”
“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?! You really think so lowly of me to say it won’t be long until I get fired?”
“I don’t– Christ, you’re puttin’ words in my mouth again.”
“Again. Of course.” You spat out and took your sweatshirt from the couch, done with him and this conversation. “I’m going to my home,” you told him dryly. Joel’s nostrils flared and he took a step forward.
“No, you’re not.”
“Fuckin’ watch me,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.
“We are not finished!!” Joel screamed, his booming voice echoing throughout the house.
It felt like a slap. In one second you froze, all your muscles seized up and a feeling of coldness gripped your heart and throat, sending panic flooding your veins. The sweatshirt you were holding slipped out from your stiff fingers.
Joel has never raised his voice at you like that. Never with such anger and fury. There was a bite to his tone that you couldn’t explain, but which you knew very well – the telltale sign that you went too far, and the other person’s patience was at an end, that now you were going to pay for it.
Your previous boyfriend taught you what it means. It meant bruises and split lips, and screaming when you started crying…
Joel noticed the shift in your behavior right away, and his anger immediately ebbed, replaced by confusion and concern.
“Darlin’?” he murmured the pet name, though it rolled off his tongue heavily and with difficulty.
He was still furious at you and your refusal to understand what he was going through, but it all died down when he saw how wide, how empty your eyes were. Your knees buckled, and you looked like you could fall down at any moment.
Joel didn’t have any idea what was happening with you – but knew that whatever it was, it was his fault.
You, in the meantime, felt like you couldn’t breathe. The man in front of you – you weren’t even sure anymore who that was – took a step forward with his hand lifted, and you quickly backed away, stumbling in the process.
“No! N-no, no, please, I’m sorry–” you started blabbering and sobbing, wrapping one arm around your middle to protect all the main internal organs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“No, you didn’t…”
“Please… I’m sorry, I swear,” you cried, trembling at this point, but not daring to escape the room. “I’ll be better, just don’t… Please, don’t…”
Joel’s heart broke when he saw you bursting into tears and trying to make yourself as small as possible. All his anger disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by the overpowering need to comfort the girl he loved.
But you seemed so scared when he wanted to come closer… And he didn’t know how to proceed.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated in an even softer tone, his eyebrows scrunching in worry. “Sweetheart… M’not gonna hurt you.”
He took another slow step forward, but that seemed to already be too much, because the trembling intensified and you practically slumped against the wall, one arm around your stomach, and the other squeezing your throat tightly. Joel feared to know the reason why you would do that to yourself.
“Stop, plea– I can’t– I’m sorry, I��m sorry…”
“No, it’s okay, my baby, it’s alright…”
He fell down to his knees next to you and reached to take you in his arms, but you started shaking your head violently, backing away and squirming out of his reach.
“No, no, please, I’m sorry! Don’t– don’t touch me!!”
A bile rose up in his throat, and he retreated his hands, holding them low in front of him to show he’s not going to do anything.
“It’s alright, babygirl,” he muttered chokingly, feeling completely helpless and lost about what to do. “You… you’re safe.”
You were crying uncontrollably now, though it seemed like you tried to stifle the never-ending sobs and tears flowing out of your eyes, in result making your entire body shake. You flinched – actually flinched – when Joel opened his mouth, and your fingers around your throat tightened their grip.
“No,” Joel said decisively, breaking your wish and grabbing your wrists, moving them away from your neck where red crescents started to form. “Baby, please, don’t.”
“Let go!!” It was hard to distinguish the words from between your cries, but the message your body language was conveying was clear as day. “No, don’t… me…” You sobbed again, quickly weakening despite your efforts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
“Come ‘ere,” Joel whispered in a voice full of pain, carefully shifting closer and wrapping his arms around you, though being careful not to make you feel too crowded or trapped. “Shhh… it’s Joel, darlin’, m’here.”
Surprisingly, you let him hold you – maybe it was just because you didn’t have strength to resist and fight back anymore, Joel thought, but maybe you recognized him. Maybe it was both. But the tears didn’t stop. No matter how gently he stroked your back or whispered reassuring words, you couldn’t seem to stop crying.
Several times in the next couple of minutes you tried to grasp your neck or arm again, but every time he delicately, though firmly, moved them away. You still babbled half-intelligible apologies and pleas, and each time your voice broke or hitched on another fearful word, Joel’s heart was shattering into a million pieces all over again.
“I’m sorry…” you sobbed again, trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry, don’t hurt me, p-please–...”
“My darlin’...” Joel held you closer and more securely in his arms, rocking you back and forth. “Sweetheart, my sweet, sweet girl… I’m never gonna hurt you, I swear.” He planted soft, delicate kisses on your hair. Even though he wanted to hug you tightly, to show you how much he loves and cares about you, he restrained himself and tried to keep his touch as gentle as possible. “I swear, my babygirl, m’sorry, so sorry for screamin’... Didn’t mean to.”
You were still crying, albeit weaker now, in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Joel could feel your nails digging themselves into the skin of his back, but it was the furthest thing on his mind – hell, he could start bleeding and still it wouldn’t be as important as comforting you at this moment. Better him than you.
“I love you s’much, my babygirl, my life,” Joel continued murmuring into the top of your head, feeling close to crying himself when your tears seemingly couldn’t stop flowing. “M’so sorry. I won’t ever hurt you like that again, I swear…”
His words, though full of love and compassion, rolled off you like water off a duck’s back, and you still couldn’t locate yourself, couldn’t tether your being to this world and make sense of the difference between what you knew should happen, and what was actually happening.
Your whole body was hurting, yes, but it wasn’t the pain of being repeatedly hit. You could barely hear your own cries, but it wasn’t because of vicious and cruel words being thrown at you. You knew it was Joel you were clinging to, and he never hurt you in this way, but… but you also were never so angry at each other. You never fought like this – and experience taught you that crossing that invisible line will carry certain consequences.
You weren’t angry now. You were scared. And confused.
“Joel,” you whimpered between gasps, struggling to breathe through your rapid sobs. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t– don’t go.”
“M’not leavin’ ya, babygirl.” He spoke into your hair, closing his eyes. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”
You were calming down a little now, the sobs wrecking your body and breaking Joel’s heart dying down, though you were still shivering. Joel continued to hold and soothe you the best he could.
And wondered who must’ve hurt his darling so much that you’d react so badly.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a while, sniffling into Joel’s chest, but trying not to get snots on his shirt. Joel sighed sadly, but his hold on you just tightened.
“No, babygirl, my darlin’...” He pressed his lips to your hairline, stroking your back with his other hand. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, I swear. It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” you whimpered pitifully, unable to stop another wave of tears from falling. “I’m sorry I reacted like that. I know… Joel, I know you won’t hurt me. Baby, please.” You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes with fear painted across your face. “I’m so sorry, wasn’t thinking and…”
“Hey. Love, it’s fine.” He placed his own hands on your cheeks, stroking lightly your damp skin with his thumbs. “Don’t say that. M’not angry at you and would never be because of that. It’s… it’s okay.” He petted your hair, trying to relax for your sake, but his chest remained tight. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”
You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure if you believed him. Joel swallowed heavily and nodded after a while, too.
“Okay. I… I’ll run you a bath,” he whispered, but you held his hand tighter and shook your head with tears gathering in your eyes again.
“No, no! Just s-stay with me, please.”
Joel took your face in his hands, but you closed your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and exhausted to even try to maintain eye contact.
“I’m here, baby. C’mon, just hold onto me.”
He waited until your arms were around his neck before slowly standing up and tucking you securely in his arms. You hid your wet face in the crook of Joel’s neck, breathing in his soothing smell and trying to calm your breathing, which you still found difficult.
Neither of you said anything when he took you to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat and started to fill the bathtub with water and soothing oils. You just watched him, wiping your nose every once in a while.
Still remaining silent, Joel extended his hand and helped you stand up. Then, almost with fearful hesitation, he touched the hem of your shirt, sending you a questioning look. You just nodded, not having strength to undress yourself, and lifted your arms, letting him take your clothes off.
You didn’t let go of his hand even after he guided you to sit in the tub. You couldn’t bear being alone with your thoughts right now, and Joel, being as wonderful of a man as he was, stayed by your side as the warmth from the water seeped through your tired bones.
Another several minutes passed before he finally asked the question that was gnawing at him since the very beginning. You must’ve subconsciously known it was coming, cause it didn’t even surprise you.
“Who was it?” he asked quietly. His hand was still caressing your palm with the gentlest of touches, but his eyes were like ice, full of hidden rage and hatred. “Who did this to you, darlin’?”
You wrapped your arms around yourself, not sure whether to answer or not. Ever since you got to know him, Joel has been nothing but kind and understanding, never pressuring you into doing or saying something you didn’t want… but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let the matter drop.
And honestly, you were afraid to tell him. To admit how your previous relationship looked and what exactly happened to make you act so strongly about something so small. Because… what if he’ll realize how broken you are, how much effort it’d take to put up with you, and he’ll leave? Even if he was willing to take care of you, it was really unlikely that he’d stay – even if he says that now.
You were doing good until today. You managed to hide the issues you had with yourself and all the pain you carried inside, never letting Joel know that something was wrong with you. But now he… he will…
You didn’t want him to leave. He made your life so much better and you loved him to pieces with all your heart, as weak and broken as it was.
You couldn’t lose him.
“Oh, baby…” Joel’s hands cupped your cheeks so carefully and lovingly that you almost started weeping again. “M’not goin’ anywhere. I love ya so much. You’re never gonna lose me.”
You didn’t realize you said those words out loud, but even so, somehow his affirmations didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted them to comfort you, but if anything, they just made you feel sick.
“I’m afraid you’re gonna leave someday,” you whispered hoarsely, keeping your eyes on the slowly disappearing bubbles. “I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want you to. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Joel. I…” Tears spilled from your eyes again and you shook your head. “I know I’m too much. And… and broken. And I know it sounds like I wanna guilt-trip you, but I’m not, I’m just–” You choked on a sob, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t– don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” Joel’s hands were rough to the touch, but so incredibly gentle when they guided you to meet his eyes, and a big pit formed in your stomach when you saw how they shone. He was on the verge of tears, too. “Don’t say things like that. Nothin’ is wrong with you. Who…” He sighed again. “Who made you believe such things?”
You didn’t answer at first, but Joel kept staring at you, and – finally – you relented.
“My previous boyfriend. The one I didn’t want to talk about. He– Look, I know he was a horrible person.” You let out a short laugh, but without any joy – or emotions altogether – in it. “And I hate him so much, but he… he was right. About some things.”
“He’s not.” Joel didn’t back down, feeling despair growing inside his chest as he saw the girl he adored with his whole heart put herself down like that. “You’re… fuck, you’re perfect, darlin’, and you didn’t deserve to be treated or talked to this way. M’so sorry it happened to you.”
He brushed some of your hair to the back and sighed silently. He seemed so lost and sad, it made you feel even worse.
“What can I do?”
That stopped the train of your thoughts, and you looked up.
“What?”
“What can I do?” he repeated softly. “To prove t’you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
Your lips parted, and you were unsure what to say. Joel took your hand in his, delicately tracing patterns on the back of it.
“Babygirl, listen to me. You’re the most precious thing t’me. I don’t care what this asshole told you, but… but none of this is true. And it’s not gonna drive me away from you. Nothin’ is gonna make me leave,” he repeated more firmly, never taking his eyes off you. “Because I love you. More than anythin’ else in the world”
Joel sounded so sincere and desperate, tugging at your heartstrings with his gentle, sad eyes and loving words. The water became cool some time ago, but your insides felt like they were on fire – as if the next breath you were about to take would be your last.
“I’m sorry for everything I said.” You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think you’re a bad father. I think you’re the best and most amazing dad Sarah could ever ask for. I didn’t want…” You sniffed and your shoulders started to shake again with silent cries. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”
The sob that you tried to stop with all your might suddenly escaped you, and Joel’s forehead scrunched in worry. He pulled you closer, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. Neither of you concerned yourself with water dripping off your skin, only feeling relieved from each other’s closeness.
“I know, babygirl. M’not mad.” Joel left a lingering kiss on your tearstained cheek, and then a second one on your forehead. “I’m sorry, too. For how I acted and for–” he sighed heavily into your shoulder, “for shouting at ya.”
“You couldn’t have known,” you mumbled, but he shook his head.
“That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t ‘ave done it in the first place.” He relaxed in your arms, and somehow it made your muscles less tense, too. “I’ll see what I can do about that job. So that I can see Sarah’s play.”
You nodded and let your eyelids drop, giving in to the feeling of calm and security that always came with being with Joel.
“Can I sleep here tonight?” you asked quietly. You still were a little afraid that he’s going to turn you down after what happened, but you really didn’t want to stay alone. “With you?”
“‘Course you can. D’ya want to go now?”
You nodded again. Not bathing seemed like a big waste of water, but you didn’t feel strong enough to actually wash your body. And Joel didn’t pressure you – he just bent over and wrapped his strong arms around you, practically pulling you out of the tub by himself.
His clothes were completely soaked when he put you down and reached for the fluffiest towel you had, wrapping it around you like a little cocoon. He got rid of his wet shirt, kissed your head gently and, without a word, scooped you up into his arms again.
“I can stand,” you offered when he started walking towards the bedroom, forcing you to wrap your hands around his neck for support.
“I want to take care of you.”
“But your back pains…”
“I’m not that old yet, sweetheart,” he answered with a half-smile, slowing down and gazing into your eyes softly. “Let me take care of you.”
You brushed his cheek with your fingertips tenderly, eyes flickering across his face. “But you’re always taking care of everyone, Joel.”
His throat bobbed and he almost immediately looked away. It was clear what he was thinking – that according to himself, he wasn’t doing a good enough job. Because you got hurt. Because he was the one who unintentionally hurt you and sent you into a panic attack.
He was silent when he put you down on the bed with care, turning around to fetch one of his shirts from the closet. During this whole time you didn’t say anything, either. Your mind was still a little closed off from when you tried to separate yourself from the painful memories that started to haunt you, and despite Joel’s efforts, it was still difficult to move past the experience.
But your head snapped up when Joel, after helping you put the shirt on, knelt in front of you, took your hand in his and leaned forward to kiss your knee gently.
“M’sorry,” Joel whispered with pain tinging his deep voice. “I’m sorry for sayin’ all those things about you and Sarah. I know you love her.” He pressed his lips to your knee again, and lifted his head, revealing how misty his own eyes were, which in turn made your heart ache even more. “My sweet girl. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” you answered quietly, but Joel shook his head and took a deep breath.
“What can I do?” he repeated his question from earlier, and this time you knew exactly what you needed him for.
“Can you… can you hold me?”
Without missing a beat, Joel raised from his position and enveloped you in his embrace, making you feel safe and protected like never before. You sighed heavily, breathing in his scent and feeling like just by touching you with such love that only he was capable of, he helped you to lift some invisible load from your shoulders.
Despite the headache from all the crying and your chest still tightening with every shallow breath you took, you felt a little better now. You didn’t feel alone.
You knew you were safe with Joel.
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It took some time for you to fall asleep, but even when you did, Joel could not find peace in the silky darkness of the evening.
Before you dozed off, Joel vowed again and again how much you mean to him, how you and Sarah are the best things that ever happened to him, and how he’ll never let anything happen to any of you – and he could clearly see that you believed his every word, and that you weren’t mad at him. You weren’t flinching when he rocked you back and forth, or later when he pressed small kisses to your forehead.
But you still were quiet and your face miserable, and several times Joel tucked you in closer to himself when he felt you shaking and sniffing. There wasn’t anything else he could do but hold you and whisper soothing promises into your hair. Once your eyelids started to drop, he began humming a familiar melody he knew you liked, and you nuzzled your face into his neck, curling up in his embrace.
And you whispered ‘I love you’ before you drifted off to an uneasy sleep in his arms. And before he could even answer, you thanked him for loving you.
When he heard it, he had to keep himself from breaking down with the last bit of his strength.
“You mean everythin’ to me, love. Everythin’,” he murmured after a couple of seconds, not even knowing if you were still awake. The guilt in his chest made it hard to breathe, but he pushed through it, and then he softly kissed your forehead, making a promise to himself.
He will find time to go to Sarah’s play with you. And he’ll make it right.
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m0llygunn · 8 months
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deathbed confessions (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)
summary: cold and flu season hits you hard but luckily you have your best friend eddie to take care of you. If the cold medicine makes you admit a few things... eddie sure isn't complaining.
contents: 18+, best friends to lovers, r is dramatically sick with a cold (talks about dying but it's just drama), fluff idk a/n: guys i am so sick help me i had to lay on the bathroom floor after braving a shower because i thought i was gonna die (but also i wrote this so maybe im ok) wc: 4.4k+
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“Holy shit, did Halloween come early?” Eddie snickers from the door of your room.
All you can muster up is a low groan and that alone makes you feel like your head is on the brink of explosion. 
“Jesus, you’re really sick, huh?” he says with the huff of a laugh.
You answer with another groan. Yes. You are 'really sick'.
“Can I do something to help?” he replies, the first hint of empathy appearing in his voice.
“Put me out—” you interrupt yourself with a sniffle followed by a phlegmy cough. “—out of my misery.”
You were supposed to be seeing some double feature with Eddie tonight but yesterday, right before bed, you felt the slightest of tickles in your throat. By morning you were the living dead with everything from your big toe to your forehead aching in one way or another. You called Eddie and before you could even mention that you were sick, he knew from your stuffed up voice. 
No matter how many times you told him you’d be fine he was strangely insistent in checking on you at the very least. By the end of the call he’d quickly worn you down and you told him that he has the spare key and he can do whatever he wants but if he gets sick that's his fault— a little mean but arguing was the last thing you felt like doing.
From the time you hung up to now— which has only been a handful of hours, you’ve gotten substantially worse. Earth shatteringly worse. So terribly worse that the simple task of opening your eyes has been too much effort. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and your lungs are just begging for salvation. That’s why when Eddie called twenty minutes ago letting you know he was on his way you told him no. It would have been wise if he listened to you but instead he replied ‘too bad’ and abruptly hung up the phone. 
Cut to twenty minutes later he was at your door, letting himself in. He was willingly walking into his very own death sentence. He clearly thought it was more of a joke than anything.
You hear Eddie’s tell-tale gait as he walks further into your room. You assume that he’s standing over your bed, maybe a hand on the back of his neck, maybe a hand on his hip. Mustering the efforts to confirm your suspicions would take too much of your very limited energy so you continuing laying in your bed, not doing as much as opening an eye.
You hear the ruffle of his hair and he definitely is rubbing the back of his neck as he gauges what to do. 
“So…do you want, like, medicine then?” he asks. 
“A gun,” you croak, earning a deep belly laugh from Eddie.
“At least your humour’s still intact, that’s good to know,” he says, sitting down on the edge of your bed.
You try to shuffle over to make room for him, but that effort alone makes you wince.
“Call an ambulance,” you whine, sniffling pathetically. 
“Really?” he asks, a genuine nervousness creeping into his voice. You feel his hand tug at the blanket you’ve cocooned yourself in, revealing your face for him to see. If you were more cognizant maybe you’d care about Eddie seeing you like this, but you’re too far gone to think about that. 
“No,” you answer, nodding your head up and down in contrast to your answer, earning a huff of relief from Eddie. 
The blanket slackens from his pull and the bed dips deeper as he leans in further to get a better look at you. Once again, if you were more cognizant you’d probably rather he didn’t, but you wouldn’t have the will to fight it anyways.
“Did you take anything?” he asks. 
“It’s been a few hours.”
“Did you eat?”
“Yeah, whipped up a quick 4 course meal earlier, michelin approved of course,” you mumble. You contemplate cracking an eye open to see his reaction but you don’t. 
“Right, so no food.” 
“No, surprisingly not that hungry when you’re on your deathbed,” you say, sniffling.
“Tell me you’ve at least had water,” he says and from his tone you know that he already knows the answer. 
“I had water until the bottle was empty, then I decided I’d rather succumb to death than get out of bed,”
“Funny, funny girl,” he says dryly, obviously not impressed by your answers. 
“Tombstone quote,” you say weakly, hoping that Eddie gets what you mean. He laughs softly and you consider that enough of a success. 
You hear the slightest bit of shuffling, not Eddie getting up but more like he’s looking around your room. Whatever state it’s in, you couldn’t even work up the courage to care. 
“Do you want a movie on or something?” he asks, breaking the lull in conversation. 
“Would you do that?” you ask, tilting your face towards him despite not opening your eyes. 
“Oh yeah. I’m giving you the mortally ill special— the deathbed works, if you will,” he says, and you can tell he’s smiling. You do your best to smile back but it’s weak and probably looks more like a grimace. 
You feel shuffling before the bed rises from Eddie standing.
“Okay, so I’m gonna get you medicine first. Then movie, food, and whatever else, deal?”
Your lower lip pouts out appreciatively for the boy you’ve called your best friend for forever now. If you weren’t deathly ill, you’d kiss him.
“Thank you, Eddie,” you whisper, voice getting caught in your throat for an entirely different reason than your cold this time. 
He mumbles back some version of ‘don’t worry about it’ before he’s off, leaving you in the quiet of your room with only your breathing, coughing, and sniffling breaking the silence. It’s barely a few minutes before you hear his footsteps and the edge of your bed dips again. 
“This is what you took right? The cold and flu medicine?”
“Mhm” you hum.
“You have nasal congestion?”
You sniffle loudly and nod.
“Right. Nasal pain, sinus congestion, and sinus pain?”
You hum again, catching onto the fact that he’s reading the symptoms off of the box. 
“Chest congestion?”
Weakly you swat your hand out trying to find Eddie. When you do, you give him the weakest of taps. “Too many questions,” you muster. 
“Well, I know you’re joking about dying but I don’t want to actually kill you,” he says. You hum again.
You hear him fumbling with the cardboard before fumbling with the plastic pill packaging.
“Do you wanna sit up?” he asks.
“I want to die,”
“Well you can’t do that so I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?”
Eddie starts tugging at the blanket and you let your weakened limbs go limp, undoubtedly making the task much harder for him but he doesn’t say anything. Eventually, he pulls you up by your underarms, propping you up against your headboard. 
When you feel his cool hands on your forehead, pushing your hair back and out of your face, you open your eyes for the first time since Eddie got here. 
“There she is,” he laughs lightly, still pushing back the disheveled mess that is your hair.
“Your hands feel nice,” you whisper, focusing on the coolness on your skin. Before you have a chance to really absorb the relief of his hands on your skin, he pulls away, grabbing for the water he had set down on your bedside table. 
“Yeah, you’re really hot,” he replies, passing the water to you.
“Tombstone quote,” you say, catching his eye, making him laugh again. With a shaky hand, you take the water.
“Funny and hot, that’s a killer deal.” He hands you the little cold and flu pill and you place it in your mouth, swallowing it down with small sips of the cold water that feels like ice going down your throat. 
You redirect your gaze to Eddie, “you’re gonna get sick, that’s the real killer here,” you say. 
“I’ll be fine,”
“You don’t want this cold, trust me,” you say, taking another sip of water before holding it out to Eddie. 
“I’ll be fine,” he repeats as he takes the water, putting it back on your bedside table. 
You nod. You appreciate Eddie’s help more than anything. Fending for yourself wasn’t exactly going so well— clearly.
“You had this with your other stuff, do you want it?” he asks, holding up the vicks vapor rub.
When you felt the cold coming on you went to the pharmacy and picked up a few things just in case. The vapor rub was on sale and you bought it on a whim but haven’t tried it yet.
“Do you think it really works?”
“Wayne used to put it on me, I guess it does?”
“Where do you put it?”
“On your chest or back,” he answers, looking at the fine print of the packaging. “Yeah, it says chest, throat, and back.”
You open your mouth to reply but instead feel the creeping up of the tickling in your throat. Turning the other way, you do your best to not cough all over Eddie. Sucking in a deep breath, you only trigger another cough that divulges into one of many coughing attacks that you’ve had today. When you’re finally done, you drop your head to the back of the headboard in defeat. 
“C’mon, let’s try it on your back for now,” he says, putting a hand on your shoulder encouraging you to lean forward. You move how he wants you without protest.
“I’m just gonna lift up your shirt a bit, okay?” he says, you nod but he pauses, fingers just barely slipping under the hem of your shirt.
“Eddie, with the way I’m feeling, you could see me butt ass naked right now and I could not care less,” you say. 
He snorts a laugh before his cool fingers trail up your spine giving you tingles that make you shiver. “Sorry,” he hums but you shake your head. His hand makes contact with your upper back, rubbing the ointment on your skin and it honestly feels incredibly soothing. Whether it’s the rub or the physical contact, you’re not sure, but you’re not questioning it either.
The noise that comes out of you could have been a moan had you not been congested. Instead it comes out like a low, stuffed up groan— not unlike a movie zombie. 
Eddie rubs a few more circles on your back before his hand travels back down your spine. 
“How’s that feel?” he asks, helping you sit back up straight.
“So fucking good and like I need you to rub my back like that again,” you say, resting your head back against the headboard. Maybe you put a little too much conviction in your words but that truly felt amazing.
The room is silent and you blink open your eyes to see Eddie holding the tub of rub in his hands, paused halfway through closing it. It takes a moment for him to look up at you but when he does, he smiles softly.
“What movie do you wanna watch?”
Had you not been distracted by your sickness, you might have noticed the faintness of a blush spreading across the tops of Eddie’s cheeks. Coughing and forcing air back into your lungs takes up every ounce of your consciousness though, so you don’t notice. 
You shrug your shoulder taking a deep breath, “anything, I’ll probably pass out from the medicine anyways,” you reply, turning away again to cough. 
Eddie hums before he’s moving to your dresser opposite your bed, angling the TV for you to see it better. 
“Sixteen Candles, Children of the Corn, Gremlins, Teen Wolf?” he says, listing off the titles of the different tapes you have sprawled next to the vcr. 
“Any.” 
“Gremlins seems kind of relevant,” he says, pulling open the clamshell box.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask. Eddie turns to you, smirk spreading across his lips.
“Nothing,” he sings lightly. He turns away from you, pushing the tape into the player and then pressing the combination of buttons to get it working. 
“You better not be implying that I look like a gremlin because—” you interrupt yourself with another cough that quickly divulges into yet another coughing fit— worse than the last. 
With each cough being so strong it makes your head pound. You don’t notice Eddie crossing your room or him settling back on the edge of your bed. You only notice his presence when he’s encouraging you forward, hand rubbing your back again. 
When your coughing finally calms down enough for you to take a good breath, Eddie brings the glass of water up for you to take a sip. You take the cup in your hands, guiding it to your mouth. At the same time, Eddie never fully lets go of the cup, making sure it doesn’t spill. You take a drink, nodding when you’re done and he sets it back down, hand still running up and down your back. 
“It’s probably just the rub working, getting all that nasty stuff out,” he says softly. 
You nod again, letting your head fall to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. It’s probably not the smartest idea to be so close to him because you're pretty much sentencing him to his demise, but with how terrible you feel you’re desperate for anything to make it better— and right now the only thing making anything better is Eddie. 
“The medicine’ll kick in any minute and you’ll feel much better, okay? I’ll go get you something to eat and then I can rub your back some more. How’s that sound?” he says softly, brushing the edge of your face with his chin as he tilts his face downwards towards yours. 
Your lower lip pouts out again and you feel your eyes water behind your closed lids. Maybe you were already hyper emotional from feeling so sick, but Eddie being so sweet is also doing a number on you.
“Sounds really nice,” you whisper, sucking in a breath.
“You’ll be okay,” Eddie whispers, hand switching from rubbing up and down your back to rubbing circles at the top of your back. “I’ll take care of you, I got you.”
Before the tears in your eyes have a chance to breach your waterline, Eddie’s shifting beside you, leaning you back against the headboard with the promise of being quick while he gets you food. Only once he’s gone and you’re left alone in your room do you notice Gremlins has already started playing. Opening your eyes, you spare a few glances at the screen that distract you from your teary eyed state.
As Eddie promised, he was pretty quick in his return. You could hear him the whole time, kitchen utensils clanking and cupboard doors closing. Maybe all concept of time is lost on you right now, but it seemed like barely any time had passed before he was taking slow, careful steps back towards your room.
“Alright— got that soup you like, got crackers, and got you some juice,” Eddie announces as he situates the dishware on your bedside table. “I even made sure not to warm the soup too much so you can eat it right away,” he says.
Eyes closed again, you don’t know what you expected him to do but him manhandling you took you by surprise. A hand slid behind your back and another under your upper thighs, he was sliding you right over on the mattress.
“Just giving myself some space here,” he says absentmindedly as he fixes your blanket around you. He quickly settles in next to you before grabbing the sleeve of crackers and settling them in front of you and grabbing the bowl of soup.
Sitting with his legs stretched out next to yours, you let your head dip to his shoulder again, this time like a silent thank you where you cozy your head against him, not unlike a cat.
“For the record, you’re more like Gizmo,” he says, a tease intruding in his voice.
“Hm?” you hum questioningly.
“You don’t look like a gremlin, you’re cute like Gizmo,” he says.
You sink your face further into the crook of Eddie's shoulder, lip jetting out once more. He’s done nothing more than call you a cute gremlin rather than an evil gremlin, yet you feel yourself turning misty eyed yet again. This time you squeeze your eyes shut, closing them on purpose, hiding your sickness induced emotions.
“Soups gonna get cold,” Eddie says, twisting his neck to look at you again. “C’mon, it’ll be better for you if you eat it warm,” he says, using his free arm to move you.
Once you’re finally propped up again in an appropriate position to eat, you feel Eddie’s hand on your cheek— no doubt becoming aware of your tears.
“You okay?” he asks softly, thumb rubbing under your cheek.
“You’re being so nice to me,” you explain, sniffling back your need to cry.
“Just taking care of you. Want you to feel better,” he replies, keeping his voice quiet. 
“Thank you, Eddie.”
“You don’t gotta thank me, just gotta eat your soup, okay Gizmo?” Eddie says, making you snort out a snotty laugh before sucking it all back in with an apology that he quickly dismisses. 
You take a few breaths, getting your tears under control. Shifting your focus to the soup, Eddie holds the bowl close to you while you slowly feed yourself spoonful after spoonful. 
“Crackers?” Eddie offers.
“Maybe one.”
“How ‘bout two?” he replies, peeling back the plastic and pulling two out for you. You nod softly before taking them from him. 
You feel yourself running out of energy and it’s exasperating that all it took was lifting a spoon to your lips a measly few times. When you let the crackers sit in your lap for too long, Eddie turns to look at you, resting the bowl of soup down in his lap. 
“Y’okay?” he asks.
“Tired,” you answer. 
“Just finish those and you can be done, okay?” he says, meeting your gaze. You shake your head.
“Can’t,” you reply.
“You can,” he says, turning his torso to put the bowl of soup on the table. He turns back around, reaching for the crackers in your hand. “Know you can,” he repeats, bringing the crackers to your lips.
“Eddie—” you try to protest.
“Bite,” he says, cutting you off and nudging the cracker into your mouth. 
You bite, giving into him. It feels weird being hand fed. It’s probably even weirder when two bites in you close your eyes in an effort to conserve your energy. Regardless, Eddie doesn’t say anything besides positive affirmations about how good you’re doing which you really, really appreciate. 
“How about you drink some of this,” he says, reaching for the glass of juice as you chew the last bite of cracker. “Then I’ll help you lay down and I can rub your back s’more?”
“You don’t have to if you wanna go home, you've been here a long time,” you say, swallowing the dryness of the cracker down. 
Eddie lifts the cup of juice to your lips, tipping it back for you to sip at. When you take more than a few drinks, you lift a hand lightly pushing the cup away. Blinking your eyes open you look at Eddie as he returns the cup to sit with the other dishware on your bedside table. 
“I’m serious, Eddie. You can go home if you want,”
“Don’t want to,”
“You’re gonna be— you interrupt yourself with a yawn this time. “—gonna be so sick,” you say groggily.
“Just let me cuddle you, you know you want it,” he says, a teasing tone hinting in his voice. You blink open your eyes again to see a genuine smile as he looks at you—one that shouldn’t be there considering how gross you feel and are sure you look. Despite that, it’s there and you do want cuddles so you nod softly, making a weak, sad attempt at getting closer to Eddie.
Eddie meets your attempt by gently pulling you down the mattress. He maneuvers you to have your head resting on his chest while his arm snakes around you, rubbing circles on your back. With the sleepiness settling in and your cold symptoms dialing back due to the medicine, you can’t help but hum happily. 
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he says quietly.
It feels beyond good. Good is an understatement. Having him take care of you like this is making you feel mushy and only highlights your feelings for Eddie. In combination with your partially delusionally, sleepy state the only thing on your mind is expressing your feelings, all of them true no matter how far out of it you are at this point. 
“Eddie, if I die, just know that I love you,” you mutter into the fabric of his shirt. 
“That’s just the cold medicine talking,” Eddie laughs softly. You find the energy to shake your head.
“Nuh-uh, love you,” you repeat. “Love you so much.”
It’s faint, maybe he whispered it or maybe it’s the fact that you were slipping into sleep but you heard it. 
“I love you too,” he says quietly. 
As if those words gave you a short lived second life, it had you perking up, desperately needing to clarify just in case he didn’t understand. 
“But Eddie I love you as my best friend but also more than that— I love you so much.”
He leaves you in silence but you don’t have the clear consciousness to overthink it, you just keep talking.
“I don’t even care if you don’t like me like that, I love you Eddie.”
“I love you too. Love you a lot, but I think we should talk about this when you’re not tired and on cold medicine, okay?” he whispers softly. 
As your thoughts start to drift, you focus on the first half of Eddie's sentiment. He loves you— and he loves you a lot. With that on your mind, intermixed with the comforting friction of his hand on your back, you fall into the deepest and most comfortable sleep of your life despite being so sick. Eddie loves you. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Arguably, the best thing that came out of your cold was your confession. It was bound to happen eventually and although it did sort of seem like a deathbed confession at the time, it was genuine— that of which you clarified for Eddie. To your fortune, he also clarified that his reply was true as well. Beyond that, you were still sick and neither of you had done much more than just sharing those little words that one night. So yes, arguably, that's the best thing that came out of your sickly state; however, in your opinion, you think the best thing that happened was that you got Eddie sick too. 
It was less than a day after you started feeling normal again that Eddie was running a fever. He ended up staying at your place for the majority of your sickness but he had left once to get some things for himself. Since he had his stuff here already, you offered for him to stay over at yours while you returned the favor of playing doctor. 
Eddie took on a much different position as a sick person than you did. Undeniably, you both were on the dramatic end of things but while your cynical humour came out during your time being sick, Eddie was much different in how expressed himself.
Normally, a very touchy feely person, his affectionate side heightened tenfold while he was sick. He was all grabby hands, wanting you closer to him. Maybe it was because the two of you had broken the touch barrier while you were sick or maybe Eddie just turned into a touch deprived baby when he was sick, you’ll never know, but you didn’t deny him of the cuddles that you so dearly appreciated while you were under the weather. 
The most interesting part— which shouldn't have came as a surprise, was that not only did he appreciate holding you, but he intensely appreciated you holding him, whether that be hands scratching his head as he rested it on your stomach, or your arms wrapped around him from behind making him the little spoon. Additionally, he was also incredibly affectionate with his words, constantly telling you how grateful he was for you and how much he appreciated you. 
Your favourite confession came late one night, probably at the peak of his sickness. Fairly similar to your deathbed confession, but a moment to remember regardless.
You had just finished helping him eat, similar to how he had done for you, and were cuddling with him, smoothing your hands over his side as he rested his head on your chest. 
The medicine was kicking in, making him drowsy, eyes fluttering shut as he let sleep take him over. He had kept babbling random thoughts but as he got more and more tired he was eventually reduced to heavy breaths. That was, until he titled his face up to yours. You looked down at him, meeting his sleepy eyes.
“I love you,” he said. “Love you so much.”
“Love you too, Eddie,” you replied, smiling.
“But I love you so much,” he said, voice returning to its babbling cadence. “Love you so much I wanna kiss you and love you and—” his babbling started to slowly fade as his head got heavier on your chest. You couldn’t help but laugh softly as your heart swelled.
You smoothed a hand over his face, brushing back his hair as you stared at him with nothing but love for your very, very sick boy. Like you had given him a second wind, his babbling started up again. 
“Wanna marry you. Love you so much wanna marry you,” he said, words slurring.
“Think you’ll have to ask me on a date first, cutie,” you replied quietly, partially under the impression that he was already asleep. 
“I will. Love you so much, I will,” he mumbled and with that, he was out like a light. 
From there, the rest was history. If curious minds were to inquire, you would say that Eddie’s always been very good at keeping his promises, and mindless babbling or not, he meant every word that he confessed in his sickly, drowsy state. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
thank you! <3
1K notes · View notes
deakyjoe · 29 days
Text
I Got Chills, They’re Multiplying
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Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader (fem, she/her)
Category: sick fic, fluff
Summary: Despite being stubbornly independent, Bob won’t let you push him away in your time of need.
Warnings: sickness, sexual references and innuendos, implication of Bob having a “lieutenant” kink, just fluff mostly, reader is used to pushing people away, they’re like hella in love but won’t say it
Word count: 2.4k
A/N: Wrote this exhausted because I haven’t been able to sleep these past few days due to being sick. Enjoy!
Consider buying me a coffee :)
You stared at the last text message Bob had sent you.
Okay, get well soon!
It was unclear whether the constant pounding in your head was what was making you feel sick or if it was how quickly the text conversation had ended with your boyfriend. Well, kind-of boyfriend. You'd been on a lot of dates over the last few months but hadn't actually made it official yet.
It's not like you expected anything from him, you were used to men being pretty dismissive, and his message was actually very friendly, especially with the exclamation point at the end, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of something at him just ending the conversation like that.
To be fair to him, you had told him that you were fine, just had a cold or a minor case of the flu. It was a little worse than that but you weren't used to telling people your problems, used to keeping them bottled up inside. So you guess you couldn't really blame him for taking your word for granted and assuming that, as you'd said, you were fine. And maybe he was busy.
You sighed and tossed your phone aside, burying your face in one of the many blankets you'd dragged to your couch in an attempt to feel slightly warmer. You were being ridiculous, this is exactly what you wanted. And what you expected. At least you had peace and quiet for the day whilst you recovered.
Drifting off into a dreamless sleep came naturally with the state your body was in and you were thankful for it, hoping that the headache that had been plaguing you since you first woke up that morning would be gone by the time you woke up again.
It wasn't.
In fact, it only got worse when the rhythmic throbbing in your skull matched the timing of the person knocking on your front door. You groaned quietly to yourself and dragged yourself up off the couch, wrapping a blanket tight around your shoulders and padding to the door with only one sock on. You figured the other one must have fallen off during your nap.
You didn't even bother looking through the peephole to see who was bothering you, hoping to just snap at them to go away once you'd managed to unlock the door.
That plan was foiled when you were greeted by your favourite pair of baby blue eyes behind wire framed glasses. You immediately softened at the sight of your kind-of boyfriend.
"Oh, hi." You croaked, immediately feeling sheepish that you were about to shout at him without even thinking about the consequences.
Bob frowned at you, giving you a quick once over. "You're sick."
"Yes, I told you that." You chuckled, coughing into your elbow as soon as the words had left your mouth.
"Sicker than you let on." He clarified.
You shrugged, not knowing what to say. He was right. But that's just who you were. Keep everything to yourself, was your motto.
So you just asked him a question instead. "Why are you here? I said I was fine."
Bob smiled at that. "I think your exact words were 'yeah, I'm good' which I knew was a lie."
"Oh." That surprised you.
He went further. "You only say you're good when something's wrong."
God, were you that easy to read?
"So, I thought I'd come check on you." He stiffened suddenly. "I hope that's okay."
You didn't think it possible but somehow you softened more under his worried gaze. "Yes, that's very okay. Do you want to come in?"
You opened the door wider for him, stepping aside and grinning when he hurried in and kicked off his shoes. It was then that you noticed what he was wearing. Blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He looked good. Very good. If you didn't feel like you were dying then you'd definitely be jumping his bones right about now. You still kind of wanted to. You pushed the thought aside.
"Didn't realise how hot it is outside. I'm freezing." You mumbled, shuffling back towards your couch. "Do you want a drink?"
"No, thanks. But if I did then I'd make it myself. I'm here to look after you." He placed a hand on the small of your back to guide you in the direction of the blanket pile you'd previously made, smirking at the sight of it.
You shifted away from him. "You don't have to touch me. I'm sick and disgusting right now."
He huffed. "You're beautiful and lovely like always."
"Liar." You grumbled, pushing back into his hand nevertheless.
"No, just smitten and honest." He confessed, sitting you down on the couch and wrapping you in the millions of blankets. "Have you eaten today?"
You shook your head no. You didn't feel up to cooking.
"Want me to make you something?" He stood in front of you with his hands on his hips.
"No." You sighed. "It's okay."
"Yeah, I'm making you something."
You huffed. "You really don't have to-"
"I want to." He cut you off. “I don’t want you to think you can’t ask me for things. You know I care about you, right?”
You nodded slowly. “I know, I’m just used to doing stuff for myself.”
Bob smiled gently. “I know that. But now you don’t have to. I’m here for you. To help. Or whatever you need.”
You were about to respond with a fond thank you when you were interrupted by his cellphone chiming in his pocket.
“Sorry.” He grunted, pulling the device from the front of his jeans.
“It’s okay.” You coughed, curious as to why he was suddenly frowning. “Who is it?”
"Had plans with the team tonight. Was supposed to meet them for drinks." He mumbled, typing away on his phone.
"Oh, god." You rubbed your hand across your face. "Please go. You don't have to stay here. Don't let them down."
Bob suddenly looked up from his screen and gave you an amused smile. "I'm sure they'll understand that I'm looking after my sick girlfriend."
He said it so casually, as if he’d been doing it regularly. Your heart rate picked up at that. Girlfriend. His girlfriend. Bob Floyd's girlfriend. You could've squealed with glee. You stayed silent and settled for a pleased grin.
He sighed to himself once he’d replied to his team and placed his cell down on your coffee table. “Where were we? Oh! Right. Me cooking for you.”
“Like I said, you don’t need to do that.” You pulled your feet up onto the couch after a particularly violent shiver ran through you. “I’m perfectly fine.”
Bob reached out and pressed the back of his hand onto your forehead. “You have a fever. And you’re still shaking like we’re in Antarctica.”
“It’s just my immune system fighting back.” You hummed, leaning into his touch as he moved his hand down to cup your cheek.
“Exactly. And I’m sure some warm soup will just help your immune system out.” He crouched down in front of you, taking the other side of your face in his other hand. “Please let me take care of you.”
The words were so softly spoken, so tender, that you almost started crying. No one had ever sounded so sincere before, especially when it came to your well-being. If you weren’t so scared of infecting him, you would’ve leaned forward to kiss him.
So you could only reply quietly, with the smallest of nods. “Okay.”
His face burst into a dazzling smile, the kind that made you never want to stop looking at him. “Okay. You rest some more and I’ll go make that for you.”
You smiled weakly back at him, suddenly remembering something. “I don’t think I have any soup.”
Bob didn’t falter. “That’s alright. I’ll figure something out.”
You thought that maybe you were a little bit in love with him.
“Help yourself to anything.” It didn’t need to be said, he knew your kitchen pretty well at this point and you always made it clear that he was free to eat or use anything in it when he was over at your place.
He nodded, pressed a kiss to your forehead and stood up. “Try to sleep a little. This might take a while.”
You snorted, regretting it immediately as it made your throat feel all scratchy. “Yes, Lieutenant.”
Bob paused for a second, halfway to taking a step towards the kitchen, and looked back at you. “Lieutenant?”
You nodded, mouth twitching at the corners.
He seemed to think on it for a second. “Hm, we’ll come back to that.”
You giggled quietly into your blanket and settled back onto the couch, closing your eyes and thinking of Bob Floyd. Your boyfriend. Your extremely caring boyfriend. Who was in your kitchen making you soup! When did you suddenly get so lucky? The musings drifted away with you as you slipped into unconsciousness.
Some time passed before you were awoken again by Bob stroking the side of your face and softly uttering your name.
You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, slightly confused as your head cleared. “What’s going on?”
“Soup.” He replied simply, picking up your legs and sitting down before placing them across his lap. He leaned forward to grab the bowl and spoon on your coffee table and then turned to face you.
“You gonna feed me?” You teased.
Bob smiled. “I would if you wanted me to but I’m sure you’d rather I throw this soup in your face than do that.”
He was right.
“Hm, when did you get to know me so well?” You asked, half joking as you took the bowl and spoon from him. The soup was a rich green colour. What he’d found to put in it, you had no idea. “Always thought I was closed off.”
“You are.” He shrugged. “But I pay attention.”
Your eyes shot up to meet his again. He was just looking at you with a slight smile, hands smoothing up and down the lengths of your clothed legs.
You were definitely a little bit in love with him.
You defaulted to a joke. "Remind me when I'm feeling better that you're gonna get it sooo good."
Bob snorted. "I think the fever is making you delirious."
"I'm just frustrated because you, somehow, look hotter than usual and I'm too sick to do anything about it." You gestured vaguely to his outfit, using the spoon to point.
“I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt.”
“Hot.” You insisted.
"Okay, I'll remind you." He rolled his eyes. “Now eat your soup.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.” You mumbled, dipping the spoon into the thick liquid.
He huffed out a laugh.
You weren’t surprised in the least that the soup was delicious. You were starting to believe that Bob might actually be the perfect man, some sort of miracle sent to Earth to apologise for all the wrongdoing in the world. How he’d managed to concoct a good soup out of the limited ingredients in your kitchen was beyond you. And yet, he’d done it.
“What the hell did you put in this?” You asked, frowning at him mock suspiciously. If you didn’t know him better you’d think he’d ordered it to your place while you were asleep. But Bob Floyd wasn’t that kind of guy.
“Some stuff I found laying around.” He shrugged modestly. “Didn’t follow a recipe or anything.”
You scoffed. “You’re something else.”
He just shrugged again, a pleased smile playing on the corners of his lips, and watched you practically inhale the rest of the dish. He was very glad you’d eaten it.
“How you feeling now?”
“Better.” You admitted. “But I don’t know if it’s because of the soup or because you’re here.”
Bob’s heart thudded against his rib cage at that confession. “Just happy to help.”
You hummed and stared at him fondly.
He had trouble getting his next question out, distracted by the way you were looking at him. “Do- do you- do you want to go back to sleep?”
You hesitated before answering him, mulling an idea over in your mind. “There is something I want.”
“Oh, yeah? What is it?” He was willing to do anything for you.
“Don’t want you to get sick.” You sighed.
He smiled. “I think we left that concern behind when I first got here.”
Your eyes widened. “No! Don’t make me feel guilty.”
“I’m not trying to.” Bob assured you. “But I doubt whatever you want is going to have a higher risk of getting me sick than me just sitting here next to you.”
You grumbled something underneath your breath to yourself.
“It’s okay. I don’t mind getting sick off of you.”
Maybe you were a lot in love with him.
So you let it burst out of you. “Wanna cuddle.”
Bob didn’t even respond to you, just scooped you up into his arms and maneuvered the two of you into the position he knew you liked - him on his back with you half on top of him and half next to him, one leg and one arm slung around him, your face buried his chest and head tucked under his chin, one of his hands moving to stroke up and down your arm, trace patterns across your back and comb through your hair.
He knew you so well.
You nuzzled your face against his t-shirt. “Thank you.”
He inhaled deeply. “You don’t need to thank me.”
“I want to. You didn’t have to do all of this.”
“Making you soup is nothing. It’s not like I’m giving you a kidney.” He paused. “Although I’d probably do that too.”
You chuckled against his chest. “What I mean is, most guys would’ve accepted my ‘I’m good’ text and carried on with their day. You didn’t.”
“Because I knew you were lying.” He reminded you.
“That’s my point. No one has ever known I was lying before.” You tilted your head up to look at him. “I’m glad you knew.”
“Me too.”
Bob wanted to kiss you but knew you’d kill him if he tried. So he settled for the smile he gave you that always made you look away nervously. Which you did, as predicted, and then swiftly fell asleep against him. He wondered how’d he’d gotten so lucky. Sure, he was caring for a sick person but it was the happiest he’d been in a long time. Which should sound ridiculous but to him it made more sense than anything.
He was knocked out of his thoughts when you whined lowly in your sleep and held onto him tighter. He smiled down at you and held you closer to his chest.
Bob knew then that he was a lot in love with you.
A/N: And we’re back!
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heartpiratedrabbles · 1 month
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Overly Cautious
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Prompt: Katakuri comes back from a mission to learn you're pregnant despite never wanting to be a father.
Requested by anonymous
Katakuri X Fem Reader
Katakuri had been sent on a mission to retrieve something, leaving you alone, having you stand in as the Minister of Flour while he was away. Everything was going well; you had done this plenty of times in the past. But some of the workers had noticed you not eating as much, you’d wave them off without a concern. The concern really came when a cake was being made and just the smell of it made you want to vomit.
         You couldn’t hide it from anyone, you were in the middle of a meeting about the upcoming tea party and what pastries would be served. Everyone forced you to see a doctor, no one wanting to deal with the wrath of your husband if he got back to find you sick.
         And that’s how you ended up in the ward, a doctor running tests and looking you over. Much to your dismay numerous curious eyes also making sure you wouldn’t leave this forced appointment. “And when was the last time you were sexually active?” The question threw you off guard, nearly spitting out the tea that you had been allowed to drink.
You’re face burning red as you whip your head around to look at those who had forced you here. None of them dared to make eye-contact with you, some whistling while looking off in a random direction. They tried to protest when you kicked them out, but you refused to discuss such things in front of so many people. Once the door was finally closed the doctor, who was not too amused asked the question again. “It’s been a little a while, 7 or 8 weeks I think,” Thinking back to the last intimate night you had with Katakuri, he’d been so busy lately that it’d had been longer than normal.
The doctor wrote some notes down and continued with other questions before doing some blood tests. You sat back, expecting this to be a simple flu. That would give you a headache, you’d be forced to bedrest as to not spread it and not slow down progress. The doctor padded his way back into the room, flipping through the papers reading the results of everything he had tested for. “Well, it seems as though you’re pregnant.”
         You took the rest of the day off to think about things. Katakuri had adamantly told you he didn’t want children. He didn’t want to pass down his genes in fear of what could happen, you understood his concerns and agreed to not try. And while you were sexually active, contraceptions were used at every avenue, Birth Control, Condoms, Spermicide, even a Plan B if there was a thought of something going wrong.
         Katakuri would be getting back from his mission in a couple days, so it’s best to just wait until then. Can’t be announcing things like this. As much as you’d prefer to sweep this under the rug, Big Mom was someone who didn’t partake in abortions, wanting a large family and everything, it’d be counter-productive in her mind. So as much as you wanted too, you’d have to go to a different island, and that included having Katakuri with you to avoid Big Mom’s gaze.
         But your plans changed quickly, despite clearly telling the Doctor to keep the news secret, the next day you arrived to the office with banners and some tastefully small cakes. Cards going around with small gifts as though it was common place to celebrate so early on. You tried to get them to calm down, but everyone was overjoyed that their leader finally had an heir on the way.
~~~
         Katakuri stared off into the distance, leaning against the wall as the ship got closer to their homeland. It had been a pointless mission, delivering a letter to a foreign country, demanding there be talks of a marriage. He hated being away from Komugi island for too long, from his normal job as the Minister of Flour. There he’d at least be able to relax a little bit more than normal, and when he was with you, he could let his guard down completely. Trusting you to cover for him or tell him if someone was coming. Being on a ship where he refused to lay down in fear of prying eyes had taken a toll on him, no matter how short the trip was.
         As the ship docked some of his administrators found him, happy as ever with large smiles. He wasn’t listening too much to their words of congratulations, assuming it was just words on finishing the mission, he just wanted to make it home so he could finally sleep on his back.
         As he was bidding farewell to those around him, one of them said something rather confusing, “Ah, tell Y/N that the mid-wife will be around to talk to her next week. I forgot to let her know earlier.” A mid-wife? For his Wife? Katakuri swallowed the lump in his throat, reasoning that it had to have been due to some unforeseen baby boom in the town.
         But as he passed through the halls of his home, he noticed servants scurrying about more than normal. All with excited faces, some with parcels in their hands. It wasn’t until he got to your room pushing the door open to see you sitting at your tea table, a hand rubbing your forehead, “If it’s another gift then send it back. How many times do I need to tell you all to keep this quiet.” Your tired voice brushing past him while you waved your hand, not even looking in the direction of the door.
         You heard the door close and let out a heavy sigh, looking to the already inconvenient pile of baby toys, clothes, and furniture that people of the island had pushed onto you. Nobody in this god forsaken town could keep quiet, which would make things so much harder, if Big Mom got word of this, you were more than certain you wouldn’t be able to pass off a random miscarriage without her knowing the truth.
         “What is all this?” You jumped a bit, hearing your husbands voice. You never even got word of his arrival to the island, much less that he had already come home.
         “We need to talk.” You voice was serious as you looked over at him, he was staring down at you unmoving. “Why not sit down?” He stayed still, crossing his arms for an explanation and you sighed again, this wasn’t normal for him, but you were already too tired to deal with it.
         Your sigh caused Katakuri to take another step further, “I get that you must be doing some fundraiser or gala. But you shouldn’t have these donations in here.” You spit out your drink, looking up at you’re normally smart husband.
         “Excuse me?” The silence as he stares at you hit you hard, “You think I’m doing a fundraiser? And you think all these stupid things are donations? Is that really what you think?!” Your annoyance peeking through clearly. First the news got, then the storm of gifts, and now even your husband seems to be getting on your nerves. “Katakuri I’m pregnant.” You shake your head, stating it out right was best in these types of situations, “So, might I suggest you sit down so we can talk abou-“
         “Your idea of a joke is awful Y/N,” He walks over to the neat stacks of gifts, all of which you were sending back when you got the chance, “I mean really? You think staging some baby items is enough to convince me? This prank is in bad taste.” His regal voice showed no sign of joking and it made you more frustrated than you already were.
         “This isn’t a joke,” You were getting another headache but the subtle glare he shot you made it clear he wasn’t going to listen, “You know what? You just got home, why don’t you rest? I’ll send these gifts back in the meantime.”
~~~
         The next day Katakuri came to his office looking a little more refreshed and prepared for the day. He sits down in the confines of the space and starts looking through the reports, “It seems you fell a little behind while I was away. Why?” His smooth tone showing you he was ignoring everything you said the day prior.
         You had expected something like this to happen so you put the paper with the test result in front of him. “You’re lovely administers made me go to the doctors after some sickness.” His eyes scanned the paper, reading every detail until you could tell he landed on the prognosis. “I’m about 2 months along.”
         Katakuri sucks in his breath, you can tell by the twist of his eyebrow that this isn’t going to be fun, deciding to sit on the couch while you wait for his response.
Honestly, you barely had time to process this all yourself, being pushed and pulled everywhere by workers. The only time you had time to think for yourself was late at night when people thought you’d be sleeping. The first night you had spent just staring into the darkness that was the room trying to figure out the situation. Truly, you could relate to what Katakuri was probably going through.
         You two never planned on being parents. You vehemently discussed avoiding parenthood the natural way, maybe adopting if you’re mother-in-law became pushy. The thing you wanted most right now was a glass of whiskey, but for clear reasons you couldn’t get one. Your body felt so tense since finding out, your muscles aching from the lack of relaxing.
You were hoping that your husband would be the one to make sense of it for you, but seeing how he’s reacted so far, he was in the same boat as you. It stung, your heart dropping slightly as you put on this front of neutrality. But it was the best you could do, if you didn’t maintain this semblance of control over yourself, you felt like you’d break down.
Finally, your husband spoke, although his words didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it caused you to go further into the downward spiral that was your mind, “Well then whose is it?” His voice was dipped in venom but maintained a single tone, “If you wanted a kid so bad, we could have adopted.”
You bit your tongue, staring at the floor in front of you. He waited a couple second for a response but you couldn’t bring any words to come out before he continued, “You didn’t have to go behind my back like this.” His even tone made every muscle in your body tense more than they already were.
A knock at the door caught both of your attentions, yet your body was still tightly wound as you got up, opening the door to let whoever it was in. Someone with a bunch of papers and a wide smile looked back at you and you ushered them in while brushing your way out of the suffocating room.
Offering small smiles to those you passed as you hurried away from the situation. It was only after you had gotten to a small reading room and locked the door behind you that you slid down onto the floor. Your room was too far away and this was unused enough that no one would come looking here. A hand pressed against your stomach while the other tangled itself in your hair, gripping tightly to feel anything other than the heavy emotions that have flowed through you for days now.
You haven’t let anyone know of your own feelings on this matter, other than wanting to keep it on the down low, everyone assuming it was so you could Katakuri yourself, and yet somehow that one single voiced wish hadn’t come true. The entire island singing praise and you were the center of their attention.
You began panting, your throat swelling up making it hard to grasp at air, feeling your body start to shake. Even Katakuri wasn’t willing to listen. This has to be a lot for him, but I thought he loved me. Your body curling in on itself, the hand in your hair running down to grip at the back of your neck while your nails dug into your stomach. He even suggested I had cheated on him, found another man. The thought itself made you sick to your stomach, your heart beat drowning out any noise around you, and eyes squeezing shut as the world got darker around you. Am I just an object to everyone? You tried, and failed at opening your mouth, attempting to get any air to fill your compressed lungs. The beating of your heart the only reminder of that you were in fact alive.
~~~        
         Katakuri was walking down the hallways. Every time he passed someone who worked with you, he’d ask the same questions. All of them similar stories that made his heart twist with worry, and yet when he went looking for you, you were nowhere to be found. It had been hours since you disappeared from his office without a second glance, the thought of how you left was now hurting him, now that he’s had time to calm down and truly think about everything.
         Since no one could find you, he was the person that people were bringing presents too, all of which he ushered to be sent wherever you had put them, some people asking if he had seen you so they could ask more questions. He hadn’t even been back a full day and yet he was overwhelmed with so much. Stalking back to your bedroom, assuming that could be his one quiet place, maybe even find you again to try and have a conversation about everything.
         His heart jumped into his throat thinking about it, you had been trying to talk to him this entire time and each attempt was met with malice. You were so patient, letting him voice his hate and distrust. Watching you sit on the couch silently, neither confirming nor denying allegations said to you, though your knuckles turned white in your lap. But what else could he think? With every safeguard the two of you had put into place, how else could you had ended up with a child growing inside of you? Walking into your shared room he looked around, the pile of gifts in the corner seemingly doubled in size from previously in the day.         
Yet still, there wasn’t a sign of you anywhere. Katakuri paced a bit, looking for any sign that you had been here after leaving him earlier. But there wasn’t a single thing out of place or used compared to this morning. The realization that no one has seen you for most of the day hitting him with a cold sweat as he calls for security
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paradisedumpling · 3 months
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Secret Love
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trope: idol!sakura x lesserafim6thmember!reader; slice of life(?); secret romance; fluff; tiny bit of angst bc it's secret; girlfriend!sakura
content warning: secret relationships; mentions of polyamory; mentions of iz*one; among us; making out after work out; some members get the flu at the end; brief thunderstorm; wine
a/n: to be honest I don't even know what this is anymore bc it was supposed to be something completely different but I did this instead 😭. also, I wrote this when unforgiven was announced so yeah
synopsis: where the other members don't know you're dating and the little moments you and sakura share in the rare moments you get to be together alone (kinda)
---------------------------------------------------
Sakura quietly hummed to herself as she made breakfast for her and the other members.
The sun had risen a few hours ago, but the grey clouds outside blocking the sunlight made it look like it was just a little after six in the morning, even though it must've past nine by now.
The woman scrambled the eggs in the pan with skill, enjoying the quietness in the house. Even though it was considerably late for their usual morning schedules, everyone was still sleeping. The day prior they had had a very late schedule and had gotten home a bit after two in the morning, so their manager allowed them to stay home and sleep-in during the morning. Their first schedule of the day was just after three in the evening, so it was okay.
Sakura was too lost in her thoughts to hear the light feet padding towards the kitchen, getting startled when two arms sneaked around her torso suddenly. Only relaxing when a soft deep morning voice spoke in japanese on her right ear.
"Morning, Kkura." The older woman turned her face to the side to look at a sleepy Y/n, quickly looking around the kitchen before turning back to the other girl and giving her a quick peck on her lips, a smile growing on both of their faces.
"Morning, darling." You snuggled your face in her neck as she went back to cooking, not wanting to burn the eggs. "Did you see if any of the others were awake yet?"
It was common for you two to speak japanese when you were alone, much like it was for when either of you were with Kazuha or the three of you were together. Even if you weren't japanese like the other two, you spoke fluently and always wanted to make sure they felt included and had the warmness of the familiarity of their mother language.
"Didn't see." You mumbled, voice coming out muffled but she heard you loud and clear throughout the quietness of the house. She only hummed in response, enjoying the warm your body provided her.
It was uncommon for the house to be this quiet, all of you being usually very loud people when together, so the both of you were enjoying it. It was also becoming quite uncommon for the two of you to be alone together, your group's schedule getting busier and busier as summer approached.
Even if Sakura wanted to turn off the stove and turn around in your arms to kiss you deeply, she knew she couldn't. For one, you seemed very tired. And she knew she wouldn't hear if anyone came into the kitchen, seen as she didn't hear you earlier. She couldn't risk you two getting caught.
You see, the girls didn't knew the two of you were dating. It wasn't because you were afraid they wouldn't approve of your relationship, far from that. Eunchae was probably the only straight one in the group and all of you knew about the situationship between Chaewon, Yunjin and Kazuha. But the two of you were official, and they weren't. You didn't want to risk the group if you two got too comfortable around others and ended up getting caught. Besides, you and Sakura enjoyed the solitude that was not being teased by your friends for being the group's couple. If you all already teased the trio, you couldn't imagine how it would be with the two of you.
With those thoughts in mind, Sakura simply rested her free hand on top of yours on her stomach, quietly watching the water boil in the kettle as she carefully prepared the mugs with her other hand.
"Oh~ Did you make breakfast for us, unnie?" The older woman nodded as she turned to look at Chaewon, who seemed more tired than you were, still quietly snuggled on her neck. "Thanks." She gave Sakura a smile, passing the two of you to fetch herself a cup of water.
"I'll be serving everything at the table as soon as the coffee is ready." Chaewon nodded, not sparing a glance at the two of you. Sakura didn't move either. It wasn't unusual for all of you to share PDA with each other. And even if the japanese woman was the most reserved with it in front of the cameras, she was never one to refuse any of her members affection. Besides, Chaewon knew how cuddly you got when you were sleepy.
And thinking of it now, as Sakura looked down at you and how you didn't greet your leader like you normally would, she thought you probably fell asleep holding her. Cute.
"Is she napping standing up?" Chaewon asked as she noticed Sakura staring at you adoringly, coming to rest a hand on your back. "Y/n-ah?" You didn't respond. The two woman shared a look before looking back at you with fondness. "Y/n-ah. Wake up." Chaewon lightly shook you and Sakura could feel your arms tense around her before you lifted your head, looking between the two with a confused sleepy face.
"Unnie?" You look at Chaewon, blinking your eyes slowly as you came to your senses. "I wasn't sleeping I swear." But the yawn you let out at the end of the sentence gave away how tired you were.
"Come on to the couch. Let Kkura unnie finish cooking." The small woman sneaked her arms around your shoulders as she pulled you away from Sakura and into her embrace, while another yawn left your mouth as you rubbed your eyes tiredly.
Sakura watched with a small smile on her face as your leader slowly lead you to the living room, sitting down with you and pulling you to lay on top of her. You were like a little sister to Chaewon and Sakura loved watching her best friend take care of you. It reminded her of her brother, and it filled her heart with a warm feeling.
Sighing content, the japanese woman turned around to pour the hot water into the coffee machine and turn off the stove, getting herself mentally ready to go wake the others up and have the house filled with loud noise for the rest of the day.
---------------------------------------------------
"It wasn't me! I swear it wasn't me!" Sakura watched with small giggles as Eunchae yelled defensively at you and Kazuha. The three of you were sitting on a blanket on the floor, playing some game on your phones she felt too lazy to join in. If she did, it would end up more chaotic than your match was right now. "I wasn't even there!"
"If the impostor turns out to be you Hong Eunchae, I swear you won't see your switch for a week after this." You threatened, face slightly red with anger. Eunchae looked at you mortified. How would she play Mario Party with Kyujin without it?
As far as Sakura understood from your yells, you and Kazuha had died and Eunchae was the only of the three of you alive, had convenently not seen Kazuha die even though they were in the same room in the game.
"Ah, these kids..." Chaewon let out a loud sigh as she flopped down beside Sakura on the couch. "Yah! Stop yelling so loud!" The three maknaes looked at the leader and gave her an apologetic smile, before turning to their phones with concentration faces. "Everyday I feel bad for Eunbi unnie more and more." Sakura let out a loud laugh at that, nodding her head.
"It's rough taking care of them, isn't it?" Sakura asked, even though she already knew the answer.
The two older girls remained silently watching the three maknaes playing on the floor, eventually being joined by Yunjin as the american laughed and took photos of the trio.
"You're up in ten!" Their manager said as he opened the door to the waiting room, peaking his head inside to call for the six of you.
"Alright you three, get up." Chaewon ordered and you, Kazuha and Eunchae quickly got up, checking up with your stylish and make-up artists if everything was okay before the six of you got out of the waiting room.
Sakura slowed down her steps when she noticed you quietly falling behind the group to be alone, Eunchae had gone to bicker with Chaewon and Kazuha talk with Yunjin. Your girlfriend knew you were very confident on stage and she would never admit it out loud be she'd watch your fancams daily. Your stage presence was amazing and she'd always blush watching them.
Still, she knew how nervous you got at the first stage of your comebacks. So she silently walked by your side, slipping her hand onto yours and squeezing lightly.
"I'm okay." You told her. You knew she knew you were nervous, and if she didn't she definitely could feel it with your sweaty hands, but you still didn't want her to be nervous because of you.
"Love." She lowered her voice as she spoke in japanese to you, keeping an eye on Kazuha so she wouldn't accidentally hear anything she wasn't supposed to. "Everything will be fine, we all worked hard. Specially you."
"I know." Your voice was shaky and she wished she could do more than just hold your hand and whisper in your ear. But there were too many people around and too little time to work with.
She felt your body tense beside her when you all approached the stage entrance and she took the new dark environment to pull you to the side and away from the other members.
Sakura held your face and looked into your eyes, slowly and deeply breathing as you unconsciously copied her. "You'll do great, baby. You've practiced hard and this is your territory. You're gonna get into that stage and make everyone scream in excitement." She caressed your cheek, smiling when you nodded. "I love you." She let go of your face to hug you, squeezing your body before quickly pulling away and taking your hand to lead you back towards the girls and the staff.
The japanese woman kept a close eye on you until the moment UNFORGIVEN started to play and your entire demeanor changed, the nerves quickly fading away as you sang and danced, being immersed in your zone. Sakura was sure that was going to become one of her favorite fancams as soon as it gets out.
---------------------------------------------------
Sakura walked the halls of the HYBE building in silence, a small smile plastering her face. Today you were all given the day off, due to the storm outside that had been going on since the early morning. You only had schedules outside today so it had all to be rescheduled, but of course Sakura didn't mind.
With the newfound free time, she had spend the entire morning and most of her evening playing videogames on the computers at the company building, not bothering to check her phone once as she knew if she was needed they'd call her instead of text.
But when she did get tired of gaming and decided to see what the others were doing during their day and text her manager to drive her to the dorm, she felt excitement fill her body and she didn't even opened her manager's chat after checking on the Le Sserafim's non-business group chat.
Eunchae had gone to her parents house. Chaewon, Yunjin and Kazuha were home. And you were at the company practicing. Honestly, Sakura felt a bit sad for not checking her phone sooner because that meant she could've spent more time alone with you. But she was still happy that you both still had a few hours before you had to go home. Still, she didn't rush to the practice room.
Now that she was out of the computer room she noticed that there wasn't many people in the building, all probably also having their schedules cancelled for the day. Even with her being deep into the building, she could still clearly hear the heavy rain with occasional thunder outside. And less people in the HYBE building meant it was less likely for someone to come knocking in your practice room and interrupt you two. So Sakura took her time walking in the halls in hopes of seeing any potential interruptor to keep in her mind.
Once she finally reached the practice room, her smile grew bigger as she heard music coming from inside. The woman opened the door and rushed inside, before quietly shutting it as not to disturb you.
When she turned around, she saw you by the corner, empty water bottle in hand as you monitored the routine you had just finished on your phone screen. Sakura quietly giggled to herself as she silently approached you, hugging you from behind and laughing when you jumped in surprise.
"Unnie!" You squealed, looking over your shoulder at your girlfriend's playful face. "You scared me!"
"I know." She mutered, looking down at the pout on your lips. "You know.... No one's around...."
"Hm..." You hummed, turning around in her arms and pulling her closer, knowing where she was going with that, your routine already forgotten in your head. "I'm sweaty though."
"You know I don't care..." Sakura was still looking at your lips as she slowly guided you to the wall, smirking to herself when your back hit the wall. "I missed you." You smiled and was about to respond when her lips crashed on yours.
You both sighed as your mouths moved together, her hands wrapping around your shoulders as you pulled her by the hips. You felt her hands tugging your hair and you gasped. Sakura took that opportunity to slip her tongue inside your mouth and press you into the wall with your body.
Sakura's hands traveled down to your back, slipping past your shirt and caressing your skin, making you shiver. Her mouth left your lips and she started kissing down your jaw, making you let out soft noises.
Sakura was about to kiss your neck when a loud noise resonated in the practice room, the sound of 'Impurities' breaking the two of you apart with a loud groan from the japanese woman.
"What does she want?" You put a hand on your mouth to hide your laugh and your red face when Sakura reluctantly pulled away to grab her phone on her back pocket and bring it to her ear. "Yes, Chaewon?"
You took the opportunity to walk around the practice room and gather your things. Wether Chaewon was calling to get you two home or not, you were sure you weren't going to practice after this. Even if only Sakura had to leave, your mind wouldn't be able to focus on dancing for a while.
"Oh, really? Okay, okay. We'll be home soon." You turned to look at your girlfriend when she referred to the both of you. You had a small pout on your face, sad that you and Sakura didn't get much time together. "Yeah, I'm with her. I just got here." She looked at you, giving you a small smile. "Do I bring dinner? No? You sure? Oh, nice. Okay. Bye-bye!"
"So I guess we are going home?" You asked when the call ended, slouching in defeat as Sakura walked towards you.
"There's a bad thunderstorm coming, it isn't safe to go home later." Your mouth opened in a small 'o', shoulders straightening as you now understood why your time with Sakura was cut short. You were glad Chaewon called.
"We should get going then!" You squealed, turning around to walk to the door, now very much aware of the sound of heavy rain outside. If you could hear it from inside the practice room, then it was bad. And you were just a tiny bit scared.
"I can't believe my girlfriend is afraid of storms." Sakura giggled, pulling you back just to take a hold of your hand and walk with you.
"I'm not–"
"Don't worry, Y/n-ah. Your strong girlfriend will protect you~" Your face turned bright red at Sakura's teasing. You let out a loud squeal when she grabbed your face to give you a hard kiss before opening the door and leading you two out to the corridors. You were too dazed to even notice your surroundings. Sakura laughed loudly at your face. "I love you so much, Y/n."
---------------------------------------------------
Sakura and Chaewon opened the door while chatting loudly, laughing at each other. The two of them had just gotten back home from an outting with a few of the Iz*one members. It was Friday and they both had the weekend off, but since they had planned to go to the beach with the rest of the Le Sserafim members tomorrow they got back home before midnight. It must've been just past ten. But they were in a good and light mood and we're planning on drinking home for the rest of the night.
"I think we have some wine." Chaewon had a big smile on her face, happy with how her night went.
"Where's the others? It's quiet." Sakura said, sitting on the table, but intently watching Chaewon take the wine bottle from the fridge. "Should I call Yunjin?"
"Yes! See if Zuha and Y/n are awake too then all of us can–"
"You're home!" They both turned to look at Yunjin at the entrance of the kitchen. The two older woman noticed how the american looked tired and how her hair was messy, but with their light mood they simply thought it was just their busy schedule catching up to Yunjin after she finally had time to rest.
"Hey Jen, you want wine?" Chaewon asked with a big smile, raising the bottle in her hands a little.
But Yunjin shook her head, confusing the two woman. Specially Chaewon. "You didn't read my texts, did you?" She let out a sight and closed her eyes, knowing they didn't even check their phones since they left their house. Otherwise, she knew they wouldn't be inviting her to drink.
"Where's the maknaes?" Chaewon asked carefully, now fully taking notice of Sakura's statement that the house was quiet.
"Hopefully sleeping." Yunjin opened her eyes, looking between Chaewon and Sakura as they looked at her apprehensively. "Kazuha and Y/n have a fever. Eunchae's feeling sore and she's warm, but not feverish yet." Chaewon and Sakura's eyes widened in shock, the wine bottle being carefully placed on the counter as Chaewon processed Yunjin's words. "I've already had them take a cold bath, gave them medicine, which we have to buy more by the way, and made them soup from a recipe my mom sent me." Yunjin smiled reassuringly at them, seeing the worry in their eyes growing with each word she said. "I rearranged Zuha's bed so I could put her mattress on the floor and grabbed mine and Manchae's mattresses so they could all sleep together in there. They've been clingy and whiney." Yunjin rolled her eyes at her last phrase, but she had a playful smile on her lips. "It was also easier to keep an eye on them if they were all together." The american let out another sight. "Anyways, after they ate some soup I put them to sleep. Like, twenty minutes ago I think. So they're hopefully sleeping already."
Chaewon and Sakura slowly nodded at Yunjin's words, their minds running many thoughts, guilt setting into their cores for not being home earlier.
"Hey, they're okay for now. I took good care of our maknaes!" Yunjin had a proud smile, pointing to herself. Sakura let out a nasal laugh at that, a small grin appearing on Chaewon's lips. They were feeling less worried now, although still guilt. "I kinda made a mess running around so don't mind it." Yunjin giggled awkwardly, rubbing her neck and looking away. "I cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom already though."
"Thanks for taking care of them, Yunjin." Chaewon finally walked towards the other woman, putting a hand on her shoulders. "How about you? Are you feeling any sore?" Chaewon put her hand on Yunjin's forehead to check her temperature, making the taller one laugh.
"I'm okay Chaechae, don't worry." Sakura looked at the two of them with a fond smile, her lips slowly dropping when she remembered her own lover.
Her girlfriend was sick. You were rarely sick. Sakura probably has never seen you sick before, only heard stories here and there. Still, it was common sense that you had a good immune system and barely ever felt unwell. But right now you were sick. Very sick at that. And Sakura didn't knew.
She knew you probably wouldn't have told her regardless of Yunjin being here or not and choosen to suffer until she got back because you wouldn't want the older woman to miss her outting because of you. But she can't help but feel like you would be wishing for her and she wasn't there to comfort you.
"Kkura?" Sakura blinked startled when a hand gently shook her shoulder.
"Sorry, I was thinking." She looked at Chaewon's understanding eyes and felt her heart get a bit calm. Only her best friend's presence already did a lot to calm her down. "What was it?"
"I told Yunjin to go take a shower while we go check on the girls." Sakura nodded, following Chaewon to Kazuha's room, where they found the three youngest girls curled up on the mattresses on the floor.
"I wonder what happened." Sakura whispered, crouching down at your head and gently brushing the sticky hair out of your forehead, checking your temperature in the process. Still warm. "For them to get sick at the same time, I mean." She didn't need to look at Chaewon to know she had a questioning look on her face.
Instead, she kept looking at her girlfriend. Your face was contorted into a uncomfortable expression, but otherwise you seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
"They've been together a lot these past days." Sakura nodded, gently caressing your hair. She smiled when your face muscles relaxed. "Probably caught something when Eunchae took them out to make friends." They both had to suppress a laugh when the mentioned girl moved, not wanting to wake any of you up.
It was fun how you and Kazuha were satisfied with only having them as friends but Eunchae was determined to have you two make a least a couple more of friends.
"At least they got sick when we had the day off–"
"Unnie?" They both stopped talking and moving when they heard a raspy voice, Sakura looking at your confused face as you tiredly rubbed your eyes. "Hmmm Kuku is that you?" Sakura smiled at the nickname you only called her when it was only the two of you together, glancing at Chaewon by the corner of her eyes.
"Yeah. Me and Chaewon." You only hummed, sighing as you turned around to look at the two older woman better, Chaewon walking to be besides Sakura by your head.
"Hi unnies." You smiled at then, wincing and closing your eyes as you did so.
"You okay, Y/n?" Chaewon put her hand on your forehead to check on your temperature.
"Yeah. Headache." You yawned, leaning on Chaewon's warm hand. "Was the outting good?" You asked with a voice heavy with sleep, eyes fluttering close again.
"It was." Chaewon spoke in a soft voice, looking at you with adoration and worry. "You should go back to sleep, big baby."
"Thirsty."
Chaewon giggled. "I'll go get it for you." You nodded.
Sakura watched Chaewon leave attentively before she turned back to you, sighing. "I guess we aren't going to the beach anymore then."
"Just cause we'd share a room." You mumbled in frustration, snuggling up on Sakura's hand as she caressed your cheek.
Your girlfriend stared down at you with amusement. You were feeling miserable, yet the only thing you could think of was her. It made her heart warm with love, although she was still concerned about you. It was rare that you got sick, specially this sick. But she felt loved knowing she was on your mind even in moments like this.
"If you and Zuha get better just enough to travel and Eunchae doesn't get worse by tomorrow then we can still go. We were planning on staying the night there anyways." Your excitement little smile made a big one appear on Sakura's lips.
"I'd like that." You opened your eyes and looked up at your girlfriend. "I think I need cuddles to get better." Sakura put a hand on her mouth so she wouldn't laugh at your words. "I'm serious, Kuku."
"I'm sure you are." You shared fond stares before being interrupted by the door opening, Chaewon coming inside with a glass of water and Yunjin followed.
"Hey, babygirl. Are you feeling better?" Yunjin asked you with a sweet voice, attentively watching Sakura help you sit up just enough to drink the water Chaewon was handing you.
"Too soon to tell." You mumbled, sighing in content as the cold water soothed your sore throat.
"I told her that we might still go tomorrow if she and Zuha are feeling better." Sakura told the other two, receiving nodding approval. All of you were needing a vacation, and even with you and the other maknaes sick, you could get some healing time at the beach.
"Well, you better rest well then." Chaewon said, grabbing Yunjin's hand. "I'll take this one to rest. You take her cup to the kitchen, unnie?" Sakura nodded, silently watching the two girls leave the room.
"You should rest too, baby." Sakura whispered to her girlfriend, silently giggling as you already had your eyes closed, grip weak on the water cup.
Sakura grabbed the cup, guiding the you to lay down. She pressed her lips to your forehead, covering you with your discarded blankets.
"Goodnight, my love."
With fondness in her eyes, Sakura left the room wishing she could cuddle her girlfriend like you wanted her too. But at the end of the day, she would cherish your soft and peaceful moments until the day the girls find out you two are dating.
"Night-night, Kuku...."
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a/n: this went so many places I wasn't planning but at least it worked?
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thank you so much for reading!! <3
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tlou-reid · 4 months
Text
Apple Spice Cake ❆ Aaron Hotchner
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☃︎ SUMMARY: you and aaron attend the BAU christmas party and get some alone time after. part three of the baked goodies series.
☃︎WARNINGS: mainly smut MDNI, oral (fem receiving), fingering, piv, dirty talk, mentions of drinking, i think that's it lmk if i missed anything
☃︎NOTE: i was under the influence of prescription flu medicine the whole time i wrote this so if it is bad or there are mistakes i apologize. i also apologize for this being a week late, i was basically dead from the flu.
swiftmas materlist ❅ baked goodies ❅ cheese danishes
.。❅⋆⍋∞。∞⍋⋆❅。.
“Under the mistletoe, watching the fire flow, and telling me, ‘I love you’. Just being in your arms takes me back to that little farm, where every wish comes true.”
“Are you sure?” You questioned, one last time, smoothing your hands over the red fabric that adorned your body. Aaron laughed from behind you, placing his hands on your hips. “Yes, my love, I am sure.” 
You weren’t sure if it was the holiday air or if Aaron being off for a whole week was boosting his mood, but you were not complaining. He had been so kind, so loving, recently, and it was turning your heart into mush. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, checking you out in the mirror one last time, before disappearing to find Jack and make sure he was dressed and ready.
You made your way to the kitchen, going to put your finishing touches on the cake you had made to bring with you. You had also baked a few sugar cookies and a small tray of brownies to take to the party. Everything was laid out neatly, each decorated with a Christmas icing and sprinkles.
“Can I have one yet?” Jack groaned as he made his way into the kitchen. He looked absolutely adorable, dressed in an ugly Christmas sweater and with a red beanie on his head. “We both know the answer to that,” You laughed at him. You had spent the last 24 hours telling him he had to wait until you all arrived at Rossi’s house, but he could not take no for an answer.
Aaron joined you and Jack in the kitchen, each of you grabbed a dessert, and you made your way out the door. Jack was in charge of protecting the cookies and the brownies while Aaron drove, and you held onto the prized possession: the gorgeous apple spiced cake. The drive was filled with Christmas music playing on the radio and jokes being thrown around.
You couldn’t be happier with the way life turned out after your and Aaron’s conversation. It had been about a month, cases for Aaron had slowed down, and you and Jack were building a relationship. Aaron had told him you were his girlfriend and he was very accepting of it. You didn’t want to replace his mom, just be another woman he could turn to when he needed. Everything was going well.
The Christmas party will be your first time officially meeting Aaron’s team. He had talked about them a ton, telling you how they are his family, the way they were there for him when Haley passed, how they helped with Jack when he needed someone to, and the pivotal role they had when he returned from witness protection. You had a lot to live up to and you did not want to blow it.
So, safe to say, you were a bit nervous. You knew at the end of the day Aaron loved you and you knew nothing could change that, but you wanted a good first impression. Hence, the massive amount of desserts and the expensive red dress you adorned.
Aaron made his way to the passenger side of the car, grabbing the cake from you so you could step out of the car and not stumble in the boots you wore. You took the cake back from him, wanting to present it yourself. With desserts in hand, you three marched up to David Rossi’s door, allowing Aaron to knock. “You know you don’t have to knock,” An older man, whom you figured was Rossi, said as he opened the door. He had a glass of wine in his hand, with a towel thrown over his shoulder, and flour spots covering his black t-shirt. It was an oddly familiar sight.
Rossi held the door open as you all piled through. You stood confidently behind Aaron, looking around at his ginormous house. “Where can I sit this?” You asked, lifting the cake for emphasis. “Y/N!” Rossi cheered. “Hello, Mr. Rossi,” You blushed, withdrawing farther behind Aaron, not being comfortable with all of the attention. Leading you to the kitchen, Rossi uses his hand to brush you off, “Drop the Mr., too formal for me.” You giggled, “Yes, sir.”
“Y/N!” He scolded, clearing a spot on the counter for your cake, “Stop with the formalities,” You were laughing at him again. You carefully sat the cake down, not wanting to mess it up. Jack and Aaron followed you in, with a blonde lady trailing behind them. “Is she here?” You heard her question from behind Aaron, presuming she was talking about you. “She is,” Aaron laughed, “Don’t scare her away.”
Listening to Aaron laugh was something the team was still getting used to. It had become more frequent in the past month, but there were no complaints coming from them.
“She’s going to love me,” Penelope hushed Aaron, before turning to you. “Hi!” She practically squealed, immediately pulling you in for a hug. “I’m Penelope Garcia, residential tech nerd of the BAU.” She introduced when she pulled away, giving you a silly salute. “You’re scaring her,” Rossi piped in from where he was finishing the food prep. Everyone in the kitchen let out a laugh.
After a few more minutes of playful banter, Penelope was dragging you away, to Rossi’s large dining room. “Look who I found!” She was squealing again, pulling you by your hand to sit down next to her. You’re met with a few more faces, not knowing who was who. The only one you could place from Aaron’s rambling was Dr. Spencer Reid, the genius of the group. He was easily recognizable by his flowing hair, resembling a boyband member, just as Aaron had said.
“Hi, I’m Y/N,” You sheepishly introduce yourself, giving the table a small wave. Your head follows around the table as everyone introduces themselves. JJ, Will, Henry, Michael, Spencer, Luke, Emily, Matt, Kristy, and Krystall. After introductions, you all were sent into a fit of laughter as Jack rushes in to greet Henry. They take off quickly, going to get into something (that you know is definitely your brownies).
It doesn’t take long for Aaron and Rossi to join you at the table, allowing dinner to start. After introductions, the conversation flowed naturally. You passed around different pastas and sauces, which all tasted delicious, and sipped on expensive wines.
Aaron was quite tipsy, having not had alcohol in quite a bit. His hand was comfortably on your thigh as everyone relaxed before dessert. His body weight was leaning into you, but you were not complaining at all. You all sat there for a while, just chatting. It wasn’t until Jack reappeared at your side, whispering, “Can we have dessert now?” With a chuckle you rose from your chair to go cut the cake.
You loaded desserts up, moving them from the trays you’d brought them in to platters Rossi had left out for you. Jack helped you carry them in, with Henry following closely behind with a stack of small dessert plates and a cup of small forks. “Ooooooh!” Luke cooed as you arrived in the dining room. Everyone dipped into their favorites, earning you tons of praise.
“You’re pretty when you blush,” Aaron slurred in your ear as everyone ate. “Thank you,” You replied, sheepishly, not used to him complimenting you in public. “I’m gonna make you blush more later,” He lowered his voice, once again returning his hand to your thigh. He moved it higher up as he continued, “When it’s just you and me.”
“Just us?” You asked, knowing Jack was supposed to be going home with you. As much as you wanted to enjoy his drunken attempts at dirty talk, you were nervous about the people around and focusing on the technicalities. Aaron’s face was practically in your neck as he answered, “Mhm, Jack’s going to JJ’s. Just gonna be us tonight.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before he returned to an upright position.
“Everyone full?” Rossi asked after clearing the table of empty plates. Everyone let out an exaggerated sound of agreement, with Matt’s “Yes, Sir,” sticking out amongst the crowd. Rossi moved to light his fireplace, and then reached for a deck of cards.
That’s how the night ended, with different card games and bets made, lit up by Rossi’s fireplace. It was a nice time, and gave Aaron time to sober up quite a bit.
“Night, Hotch,” Emily called as you two walked out the door. You had been dismissed with hugs and promises of a girls night, so Aaron’s goodbyes paled in comparison. Aaron opened the passenger side door for you before claiming his spot in the driver’s seat. “You had a good night?” He asked as he buckled up and returned his hand to your thigh, for probably the thousandth time tonight. “I did, but you better get my brownie pan back from Dave. That’s my nice one,” You teased. Aaron smiled, “I will, I will.”
The drive was peaceful, with Christmas music filling the car and Aaron rubbing soft circles on your thigh. You couldn’t help but wonder if Aaron recalled the promise he’d made to you when he was much drunker than he is now. You could feel your panties getting wetter as you thought about it, his touch doing nothing but fueling the dirty thoughts in your brain.
“You need to run over and grab anything?” With your houses being so close, you didn’t have much stuff at Aaron’s house. You usually opted for his clothes anyways, so you gave him a nod, and marched into his home. Aaron followed closely, resting his hand on your hip as he reached from behind you to insert his key. You held the door for him as you walked in.
You had hardly gotten your shoes off before Aaron’s hands were back on your hips. He pulled you close, holding you up against his torso. “You looked so pretty,” He murmured, moving to press hard kisses into your neck, “In your dress.”
You turned yourself around so you could wrap your arms around his neck, and kiss him on his lips. “And you looked quite handsome,” You gushed, emphasizing the statement with a kiss to his cheek. It wasn’t very often that you were the one who got to love on Aaron, so you took your chances when he let you. 
You stepped away, grabbing his hand and guiding him to the bedroom. You sat him down on the edge before moving to straddle him. You could feel his hardened cock against your wet core. His hands wrapped around your waist, once again pulling you close. Aaron kissed you with a fervor, showcasing all of the love he held for you. It was slow, your lips slotting together, his hands continually trying to pull you close. It was all he wanted. You. You. You.
“Come ‘ere,” He mumbled, switching you so that you were laying at the top of the bed. His hands moved to pull down your dress and he helped you lift your midsection so he could get it all the way off. That left you in the red bra and white panties you’d chosen. You weren’t planning on having a night like this, but you opted to keep the Christmas spirit as you’d gotten dressed.
Aaron’s eyes looked over you like you were a priceless piece at the museum. You could feel your cheeks heating up under his stare, knowing he had kept his promise from earlier. “Merry Christmas,” You whispered, wanting to break the ever growing tension in the room. “Merry Christmas, beautiful.” He whispered back as he moved to press kisses to your chest. He sucked and licked across your chest, stopping to toy with each of your nipples, before peppering kisses down your stomach. Aaron laid himself between your legs, then reached up to pull down your panties. He hesitated for just a second to make eye contact with you, waiting for a nod of permission.
After you granted it, his hands more quick to slide your underwear down your legs, discarding it somewhere in the room. Aaron’s large hands rubbed up each leg as his mouth made contact with your center. He laid his tongue flat, licking a broad stripe up you, collecting as much of your wetness as he could. “Always taste so good,” He pulled away for just a second to mumble. You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself.
His tongue moved skillfully, tracing through your folds and stopping to circle your clit. Your hands were latched in his hair, pulling him as close as possible. Aaron took this as further encouragement, moving his right hand from your thigh to your pussy, collecting your juices before pushing in just a single finger.
He pumped it in and out at a steady pace as he drew circles on your clit with his tongue. You could feel your body start to tighten, getting closer to your release. “Aaron!” You whined, tugging on his hair again, “Need more!” He complied, inserting another finger and increasing his speed of both his hand and his tongue. You yanked at his hair again, eliciting a groan from him. The vibration felt so good on your pussy, drawing you closer and closer to orgasm.
Aaron inserted one more finger, giving you a slight burn with the stretch of his wide digits. You came on his tongue and around his finger with a loud moan of his name. He didn’t stop, continuing to pump three fingers into you. His mouth pulled away, because he did not want to overstimulate you too much, and he wanted to see your pretty face as you came down from your high.
He was painfully hard, pushing his waist into the bed desperate for some kind of friction as he watched you. He didn’t pull away until you froze, letting out deep breaths from your orgasm. Aaron moved to lay next to you, pressing a kiss just above your ear. It was quiet for a few moments.
That was broken when Aaron slurred a, “Thank you,” against the top of your head. He sounded drunk again, only it wasn’t from alcohol, no, it was from tasting you on his tongue. “For what?” You replied, rolling over to lay on his chest. “Letting me taste you,” He answered. “You can do that whenever you want.”
Aaron rubbed along your naked body, stopping to finally remove the bra he had accidentally left you in. He was waiting for you to initiate the next round, knowing you wanted a moment to come down before he was bringing you to orgasm again. He knew you were ready when you began sucking harsh marks into his collar bones. It was an intentional placement, one that no one could see.
You slid your teeth across his bone, giving him a delicious burning feeling. He moaned at the pain. “Wanna ride you but you made my legs tired,” You pouted, jutting your bottom lip out to defend your point. He laughed, “You can always do that tomorrow.” Your pout was replaced with a smile as you nodded at him.
Aaron stood for just a moment to remove the clothes he had on. As he climbed back in the bed he guided you to lay on your back, before climbing on top. He didn’t make you do any work as he inserted himself into you.
“So wet,” He mumbled. “All for you,” You sweetly replied. His movements started off slow, allowing you to adjust to his thick dick. The burn from earlier was back as he stretched you again, but it hurt in all the right ways. “More,” You whined, again, needing to feel him deeper in you. Aaron sped up his thrusts, and buried his head in your shoulder. He focused on pressing kisses there so he wouldn’t finish so quickly. 
He was so riled up. You had him half-hard before you’d even left the house, dressed up in your pretty dress and carrying sweet desserts you’d made for him and his team. All he could think about while he ate dinner was how he wanted to be devouring you instead.
“Fuck,” He moaned as he moved to hold himself up on his elbows. You weren’t sure what he was thinking about, but he was fucking you hard now. The bed shook as he drove himself into you, banging against the wall. “Looked so fucking pretty today,” He whined, drawing out the word ‘pretty’.
Aaron kept a steady rhythm, showering you in compliments and emphasizing each of them with a hard push of his cock. You were a mess of moans under him, puttering out whines of his name. His left hand slid down the expanse of your body to stop on your thigh, hiking it up to his hip. You could feel him so much deeper at this angle. “Gonna come on my cock now, honey?” He ushered, feeling your walls tighten around him.
All you could do was whine out a “mhm”, too preoccupied with the addicting feeling of him dragging his dick in and out of you to string together coherent sentences. He murmured encouragements in your ear, trying to get you there before he found his own release.
His wish was granted as you dug your nails into his back, holding on as you reached your orgasm. You whined his name and squeezed his dick in the perfect way, and he was finishing right after you. Aaron’s thrusts slowed down as he finished.
You held him tight to you, not letting him pull out. His body was basically limp, exhausted after the long day and his wonderful orgasm. You two laid there for a while, basking in each other’s presence and enjoying the afterglow. “You okay, baby?” You whispered in his ear. He just nodded against you, not having the energy to answer.
His dick had completely softened by the time he rolled off of you, allowing you to quickly hop in the shower. It was no surprise that he was asleep when you got out. You threw on one of his shirts before climbing in next to you.
You got comfortable, pulling the blanket up to your chin and wiggling next to Aaron. As if it was muscle memory, he wrapped his arm around you. “I love you.” You said, not expecting him to reply. To your surprise, he pressed a sloppy kiss to the back of your head, “I love you, too.”
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arminsumi · 8 months
Text
it's the hair.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ fem reader
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NOTE: lol this is just a dum fluff drabble i wrote instead of studying
SUMMARY — your childhood friend and classmate satoru positively kills you with his new haircut. but he misunderstands your reactions and behaviors, thinking he did something wrong.
WARNINGS — lowercase used, not proofread, misunderstandings between u n gojo, angst if you squint ??
WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.3k
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
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you've been eyeing out gojo all day. he's not sure what to make of your expression — it's something mixed between comical worry and genuine distress.
"what? what is it?" he keeps asking you each time you give him the side eye look-over. "do i have something on my face?"
"no. it's nothing." you reply curtly.
he squints skeptically at you.
from class to class, he ponders alongside suguru. did he say something? were you mad at him? was it because he stole your soda from the vending machine yesterday? but he always does that, so why would you be mad now? maybe you were just not feeling well? did you not sleep well?
and suguru's ears flooded with all these theories.
"did i say something to y/n? she's acting strange today."
his best friend stifles a smirk. "dunno, did you?"
"i think she's mad at me. was it because i stole her soda? but y'know it's not my fault we like the same soda! and i promised to buy one for her next time!"
suguru now lowers his head into his arms, resting on the desk, trying so hard to keep his laughter in.
"maybe it's the weather — probably the flu — yeah, definitely the flu. i'll go get something for y/n at the store, d'you need anything, suguru? what! what are you laughing at!"
"nothing, nothing. i don't need anything from the store, thanks — unless maybe something spicy that catches your eye. 'better run quick, store's gonna close soon."
satoru furrows his brows in confusion, and eventually his entire expression becomes serious, like an old philosopher in deep thought about the universe. but it's not the abyssal void beyond the stratosphere that's in his thoughts, no, it's you — you're pervading his entire mind as he walks across the roads of tokyo, to the station, and boards the train.
holding onto the handles as it shudders and sways, shoulders taught as they always are when he's in thought. were you really sick? what if he did something bad? maybe it was nothing at all, and he was just overthinking it. maybe it didn't even involve him. did it have to do with suguru? or perhaps you were upset about something in the past, something irrational and long-forgotten, like the fact that he didn't attend your 7th birthday party. it's not like he had a choice, his parents barely allowed him to visit your side because they didn't want their prodigy son hanging out with...
he texts you.
satoru — are u home yet
he stares and waits for you to come online, then watches as those three dots move up and down and you start typing.
you — no why
satoru — where are u
you — bridge
satoru — what are u doing
you — lol so many questions
you — the sunset looks rlly good today i'm taking pics
satoru — wtf without me??
you — lol sorry didn't think u wanted to waste ur time watching the sunset
satoru — see u there
he's just boarding off the train, coming through its doors, when he texts you that. thank the benefit of his long legs for speeding to the store in time before it closes. he picks up your favorite.
when you see him come into view, you're waiting with your arms draped around the railing of the bridge.
"trying out for the track team?" you laugh, as he practically runs up to you. "did you run this whole way?"
he's catching his breath, clutching a plastic bag of goodies.
"are you sick?" he asks.
"what? no?"
"i thought you might have the flu." he's asking with genuine concern, it's bizarre. he usually doesn't talk like this unless he knows he's in trouble with you, or if something's really wrong.
"i'm fine." you blink, "i've just been watching the sunset. you missed the best part."
"i didn't know you enjoyed sunsets."
"why didn't you invite me!" he groans, coming over to assume an oddly attractive position by the railing. he slacks against the metal, leaning his weight on it. he lets the plastic bag with yours and suguru's favorites in it thud to the ground.
the cityscape is so pretty, and yet he's still prettier, you think.
"i don't care for them." he admits, "but of course i'll enjoy a sunset if you're watching it with me."
you look at him. he's not even facing the sunset. was something on his mind? you can hardly theorize, because you're giving him that peculiar look again.
he catches you looking at him, "what!"
"what?"
"did i do something wrong?" his breath is stable now, "are you mad at me?"
"no? why d'you think I'm mad at you?" you ask confusedly.
"because you keep lookin' at me like that!"
"like what?" you feel your cheeks warm up.
"like something about me is offensive to your eyes."
you break out laughing. "no! i'm not — it's not — you misunderstand me, like always..."
"what the hell?" he whines, "is it nothing serious? i've been worried. you've been looking at me weird since sunday and — oh... OH MY GOD."
you giggle, chin pressing on the railing. "did you just realize something?"
"is it the haircut!"
"it's the haircut."
"why do you not like it!" he fumes, that familiar satoru playfulness coming back now as he was put at ease knowing he didn't upset you. "you know it cost a lot, 'n i styled it and everything."
"i didn't say i didn't like it! it's the opposite."
"so you like it? then why do you look at me like you're having an internal crisis?"
you groan, "because you're giving me a crisis! you know i'm weak for undercuts!"
he shuts up. his heart races a bit. oh, so he misunderstood you not a little bit but entirely. oops. now why didn't he realize that his haircut would have this effect on you? when he subconsciously went to get an undercut because you mentioned you liked them in passing one school afternoon.
"oh."
"you're so dumb, satoru."
"well sorry!" he rolls his eyes.
now there's silence. he stops leaning his back against the railing and turns to face the final stages of the sunset. the streetlights come on, one is gleaming not too far from you two. it casts a dreamy light on his hair.
it really is a good cut, and it's styled in such a way that... well it gets your daydreams going, let's just say that. and here gojo was worried when he came out of the salon, thinking it was too short now. truthfully, it was a bit short compared to his other haircuts, but he wore it well. of course he did.
"so you like it?"
"i love it."
"well if you love it, then show it love." he teases.
"what on earth d'you mean?" you laugh shortly.
"fluff my hair." he says.
"no way, lice-boy."
"hey!" he pinches your cheek in retaliation, and your reaction endears him as much as it always has since you two were kids. "that was one time, i haven't ever had lice again."
he pouts. you look over. he is pouting. pouting. he's a nineteen year old boy pouting about not getting his hair fluffed by his childhood friend who he maybe sorta kinda has a crush on.
and then he encourages you. he leans his head on your shoulder. his hair tickles your cheek.
"damn. you're like an attention-starved cat." you joke.
he places your hand on his head himself. the brief warmth and glimpse at the size difference between his hand and your hand made him giddy.
you ruffle his hair lightly, and then he wears a satisfied smile. now early night has settled. it's quiet at the bridge except for the distant city sounds and lull of the highway.
"i was really worried that i did something wrong." he admits.
"i'm sorry."
he sighs, snuggling your shoulder. there's a nice silence between you and him.
then he breaks it.
"hey, i didn't say stop fluffing." his deep voice reverbs in your chest. he's playful and lively, but you can tell he's also tired from running all the way here.
"you're a menace." you tell him.
"but you like me, right?" it's more of an insecure question. he wants to hear you say it back, not as a playful joke.
"of course i do."
"good, good."
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© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.
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unholyhelbig · 4 months
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part 4 mob boss mommy *i mean natty oops*
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Title: The Oversight [Part 4/7]
Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff
Wordcount: 4325
Warnings: Gun imagery, heights, unecessary tension, horrible grammar, and funnel cake
[A/n: Heads up, I wrote this while I had the flu & a pretty bad fever, so it's not my greatest work. Thank you all for the postive feedback!]
[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]
Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests
“Hit me.” Natasha’s words were growled, a low rumble compared to the warm spring breeze that produced nothing but a balmy environment. Sweat glossed her collarbone, moved against expanses of skin that you had let yourself imagine, but had never seen. She was a distraction, despite being your instructor.
Her wrapped fist made contact with your jaw, a metallic taste coating your tongue. You let out a grunt of protest, fingers quickly working against the area to ease the throbbing pain. “That wasn’t fair,”
“You think they’re going to play fair? Focus up. Hit me.”
There was something about being this close to Natasha that formed a pit in your stomach. You were meant to have skin on skin contact, though most of your mornings for the past two weeks had been spent at the gun range, she had deemed you ready enough to learn how to fight. It was an art, you figured, not just something you could blindly go into.
For the first fifteen minutes of your day, you had watched Natasha and Kate spar. Yelena was standing next to you, a borderline predatory gaze on her face. You’d realized that it was one of the only emotions she harbored, and that Clint was rightful in his fear. Still, her attention was not focused on you, and that was good enough for the time being.
Instead, it was homed in on Kate. “I have been teaching her for nearly a year now.”
“She’s good.”
“You do not have to lie, y/n. She’s sloppy, reckless. Look how calculated Natalia is.”
Those emerald eyes were tracking every move the taller girl made. She’d initiated contact with Kate’s ribs, with her knees, and her shoulders. She’d fallen to the grass more times than you could count, but she still got up. That’s what seemed to count around here. Even as green a brown stained her workout gear, and as purple blotches of dead blood rose to the surface of her skin.
“It pays to learn fighting styles. That is something the Danver’s family does not understand. They hire whoever they can. Bodies over skill, it can work in some situations, but not all.”
“When did this… war start?”
“Mm, the power struggle has been raging for decades. Our parents, and their parents, and their parents before them. Both of us were trained to take over the family business. Men, they fight with their hearts and not their heads. When Carol and Natalia took up the mantel, things only got worse.”
You felt silly, growing up on these city blocks, and not realizing that a fight bigger than yourself was raging just within the shadows. You supposed that was a good thing. If you knew, you’d have taken Ronnie out of here in a second.
Kate hit the ground for a fourth time, the air knocked out of her lungs. She still had enough left to groan and prop herself up on her elbows. Natasha chuckled, the sound bubbling past her lips. This was much too fun for her.
“She is fragile.” Yelena nudged you with her arm. You frowned. Kate accepted the outstretched hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. She looked dazed. “Do not tell her I said so, but she was looking for a project. You have to give it your all. For both of your sakes.”
You drew in a breath to respond, but Yelena clapped a hand on your back before taking a step toward the dueling duo. “Alright Nat! I think you’ve tortured Kate Bishop enough. Do not break her.”
Kate was bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet, her fists raised in a defensive position. Her lip was split, rusty crimson against the corner of her mouth. “I can do this all day.”
“You do not have to.” Yelena’s nose scrunched up “You stink. Go take a shower.”
The blonde shoved Kate playfully towards the house, trailing behind her and murmuring things in Russian. She’d left you alone with Natasha, something you had become quite accustomed to. In your workout gear, you felt more than a little exposed, her stare raking up and down your form before her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink than they already were.
The two of you had sat on the lawn chairs as she wrapped your knuckles, had you punch the palm of her hand to see how much blowback it would cause. You were holding back, and you both knew it. Her last command had been non-negotiable.
When you swung your right hand towards her jaw, Natasha wrapped her fingers around your wrist. She had flipped you onto the ground with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. You’d flailed in panic instead of going limp like Kate had.
You’d dragged Natasha down on top of you. Her body weight was warm from the beating sun, her elbows on either side of your head. Natasha’s knee was between yours, pressing into your core. You let out a small gasp at the sensation, pulling in her musky scent of sweat and clove.
Stray strands of russet hair framed Natasha’s face as she peered down at you, her chest heaving, each breath pushing her closer to you. Her nose was brushed against yours. The two of you were impossibly close, soul-crushingly so. You were certain that she could feel your heartbeat through your shirt.
She made a quite noise “Pet, if you wanted to get me on top of you, all you had to do was ask.”
Your gaze had given you away, and Natasha suddenly had a shit-eating grin against her lips. You hooked your legs against hers an arm wrapping around her waist. In a smooth move, you had her flipped against the grass, eyes reflecting the blue of the cloudless sky. She nearly seemed impressed, and you preened at the stare.
That was before her knee came up and knocked the wind out of you for the second time. You grunted, rolling off her. The two of you stared up at the sky for a few moments before she hoisted herself up and offered you a hand. You batted it away out of habit, rising on your own.
“When you fall, you fall with grace.” Natasha said, her voice stoney, right back to her serious self. “That way you don’t end up like we just were.”
“And if they ask?” you lifted an eyebrow at her, a hint of malice in her voice. She took a step closer to you, and that ever-intoxicating scent filled your lungs once more. Your ribs still ached from her kick, fingers massaging the sore spot. However, all of your movement halted.
Her voice was murmured and rusty. “I don’t want anyone else on top of you.”
“Okay,” You whispered, throat suddenly tight. “Then show me how.”
Veronica had the excited reflection of light in her eyes. They scanned the traveling fair that had been set up in the park bordering the harbor and a square city block. Each year, tents with local vendors would go up, rides and carnival games in their stead.
The scent of kettle corn filled your lungs, a mix of sweet and salty that reminded you of your own childhood spent here. It was the one constant that every foster family took part in. Sometimes you’d be given a stack of tickets, others, you’d get enough for a large cup of the best lemonade you had ever tasted.
Her hand tightened around yours, squeezing in excitement. Despite your current situation, you couldn’t help but smile. The soft sound of music and the light breeze was enough to make your forget about your aching muscles, and the light sweater that you had thrown on to hide the bruising against your shoulders, your arms, and collarbone. Natasha had really done a number on you.
“Jimmy is a nice guy, he really is, but the whole magic thing is driving me nuts.” Darcy used her forefingers to pinch off a bit of blue cotton candy, shoving it into her mouth. She talked around the melting sugar. “Seriously, he spilled my coffee all over my lap attempting a card trick and then attempted to mop it up with a never-ending handkerchief.”
You snickered at that, earning a look cut from glass. “What? I’m sorry about your drycleaning, but it is kind of funny.”
“Yeah, whatever. I just have to grow a backbone. He doesn’t try to pull that shit with Monica. No one tries to pull that shit with her.” She knelt in front of Ronnie, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “You’re not going to tolerate stupid magic tricks, are you?”
She was met with a silent, but amused stare, her eyebrow lifted. You’d been leveled with that look more than once yourself. It dissolved you into more laughter. “Alright, alright. No magic for the kid. Does the Ferris Wheel count as magic?”
“Well sure, but only at the worlds fair.”
You rolled your eyes but effectively tugged them both into the line. It had always been one of your favorites. It gave you a good look at the city you called home. Of course, your view of that city had been stunted lately. It never truly changed the beauty of the lights and the way they reflected off the water.
Your shoulder came in contact with chilled leather, your attention having been trained on fishing through your pockets for the small red tickets. Your eyes shot up, ready to rush out an apology until the words stopped in your throat.
Seeing Natasha outside of her manor was jarring. She looked nearly the same, a tight-fitting black T-shirt and a leather jacket draped over her shoulders. Her hair was loose, unlike it was at training earlier in the day, cascading down her shoulders. Her make-up was light, her unripe stare pouring into yours. That bewilderment melted into her cool exterior as if it were never there in the first place.
“Natasha,” the word poured from your lips before you could stop it, and the corner of her mouth quirked up in amusement. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I can take a hit” She stated matter-of-factly. You were well aware of the fact, and you had to stifle a shiver as it worked its way down your spine. Hours before she had been nestled so perfectly on top of you.
Your cheeks heated up and you glanced sparingly at your friend, her own eyes going back and forth between the both of you. It was then that you noticed Clint, towering over Natasha with his arms crossed over his chest. He gave you a finger wave, and you lifted your chin in return.
“I’m Darcy, you are?” She was beyond forward, and it made you internally cringe. She reached her hand out to the very woman that ran the city. It was like sticking your hand in the lions enclosure covered in steak sauce.
“Natasha,” her words dripped with a subtle hint of her accent “This is Clint.”
“Howdy,” he knelt then, Veronica was clinging tightly to your leg, peeking around tentatively. She hugged you closer as he spoke. “You must be Veronica.”
The woman in front of you softened as you had never seen before. Her eyes grew brighter, though you could pin that on the circulating lights of the Ferris Wheel. There was a genuine smile on her lips as she looked at the girl who hugged you ever close.
“She doesn’t talk much, I’m afraid.” Your hand moved comfortingly to her shoulder. Ronnie seemed comfortable, if not excited about the rides that were teeming around them.  
Nat smiled at you “Oh, I’m sure she’ll speak when she has something to say.”
Ronnie’s death-grip on your leg seemed to loosen a bit as Clint straightened up. Darcy continued to scrutinize you and Natasha, something mischievous in her stare that you didn’t exactly care for. She rocked back and forth on her feet and directed her attention to Clint.
“How good are you at skeeball?”
“An absolute beast.” Clint replied.
“What do you say to a challenge? I bet I can kick your ass with the power of science. Winner springs for funnel cake.”
You picked up on the subtle look Clint gave Natasha and the even more subtle wave that she responded with. She blew an amused breath. Darcy stretched her hand towards Ronnie and wiggled her finger. “Kid, you staying or going?”
This time, Ronnie looked up at you for confirmation and you gave her a small, encouraging nod. She dislodged herself and wrapped her hand around Darcy’s. The promise of flaky and sweet funnel cake topped with powdered sugar was too tantalizing.
Admittedly, you were used to being left alone with Natasha at this point. Though it had mostly been in a business capacity. She seemed almost shy now, the line for the Ferris Wheel inching ever so closer.
“We can still go on, if you want.” She suggested.
“Yeah, yes. Of course.” You replied, “that would be lovely.”
“Your friend is very persistent.”
“She’s harmless, really.”
“And your daughter. She’s beautiful.” Natasha shoved her hands into her pockets, the two of you inching closer in line. “Just like her mother.”
Once again, you could feel the breath lodge in your throat, your cheeks flushing with fire. She was so bold at moments, and you remained silent in your conquest. There was no telling what was overstepping, though she blinked at you expectantly.
You fumbled dumbly with the tickets in your pockets, presenting them to the attendant. You both ended up in a cherry red car lined with nice leather cushions. Natasha’s thigh was warm against yours, her thick scent coating your lungs. Her arm was around the back of the cart, and a familiar sense of safety settled within you.
“You worry about her,” Natasha said to fill the silence as they loaded each cart. It lurched forward and back, making your stomach turn. “I didn’t start speaking until I was nine years old. My mother, she was so concerned that she rushed to be every specialist that money could buy. Whole days spent driving to different counties, just for them to say that same thing. Nothing is wrong, and I’ll talk when I’m ready.”
“What was that moment? The one where you were ready?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “The thing about being quiet, is that people tend not to notice when you’re in the room. My father protected Yelena and I from his world for as long as he could, but eavesdroppers hear no good of themselves, and others. I watched him give a man his last drink before shooting him between the eyes.”
“Fuck, Natasha.” You murmured.
“He doesn’t know I saw that. I ran as quietly as I could back to my room and hid under the duvet like a child. Something snapped in me that day and I no longer wanted to be silent. I suppose the fear of displeasing either of them ebbed the words from me.”
She was being vulnerable in front of you, a side that you had never seen. There were always her subtle touches, and her purred words that would hit the pit of your stomach. You’d watch as she gave unwavering commands to Clint, to Yelena and Kate. But this was different. This was her.
The city sparkled around you. Tricolored lights reflected off the blackness of the causeways that lapped listlessly at the harbor. If you squinted, you could almost make out the mansion where you spent most of your time.
The carnival buzzed below. Her scent was overwhelming, so warm and welcoming despite her danger. And dangerous she was. It was alluring, exciting. You looked at her, eyes pouring with emotion. Not so much pity, as she would snap your wrist at the fact. But a simple understanding.
Tentatively, you reached up and cupped her cheek. You both were too far above the ground to be realized and the simple gesture was one of good faith. Surprisingly, she leaned into your touch, making a quiet, relieved noise.
Your voice was whispered, “You didn’t deserve that. You were just a kid.”
She had closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth of your contact. Her features were so soft, so broken in this moment that you resisted the urge to kiss her frown away. Before you could contemplate it, the Ferris Wheel lurched and she gently took her fingers and wrapped them around your wrist, lowering both of your hands into her lap.
“She’ll talk,” Natasha gave your hand a squeeze “give her time.”
Natasha cleared her throat as the cart neared the end of its journey. She pulled away entirely, her arm still along the back of the seat. When she leaned closer, you could feel the weight of the gun in the inside pocket of her jacket. Seriousness had lidded over her eyes once more.
“We have a job tonight, and I want you to come along.” She said, breath hot on your collarbone.
You were suddenly snapped back to reality. Natasha was in fact the head of a crime ring that you had unwittingly stumbled into. Up until now, aside from the brutal beating, it had almost felt like child’s play. She’d relearned you how to shoot, and you knew the very basics of fighting. But, you were far from her Winter Soldier stand in. You weren’t even a toy soldier.
She sensed your hesitancy. “I have a meeting at a restaurant downtown. It’s not going to go south, but if it does, I need you there. You won’t be alone.”
“Clint?” You asked.
She shook her head “guys got a family of his own, he must spend some time with them outside of work hours. Kate.”
You fought back the noise that threatened to escape your throat. You didn’t doubt Kate, but you certainly doubted yourself. You didn’t have your own weapon, and the threat of leaving a restaurant with a bullet lodged between your ribs became very real, very quickly.
She chuckled at that, “I trust her. I trust you. Just stand there and follow her lead. Look hot and intimidating.”
“Is hot really a requirement?”
“Not really, but you pull it off.” There was a switch in her again, one that had been flipped effortlessly as she grabbed the collar of your sweater and pulled you impossibly close. You were nearly sitting in her lap. “Don’t fail me on this, y/n. It’s imperative that you do as you’re told.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You swallowed thickly as her hands wandered your side expertly. It took you a moment to realize that she had pulled the gun from her own coat and silently transferred it to yours before she released her hold on you. You had admit that you missed the touch instantly.
She stood from the cart when the attendant unlocked the door, reaching her hand out to you. You took it was ease, letting her help you onto the metal dismount. There were no words exchanged as you readjusted the weapon as slyly as you could muster, hands shoved into your pockets a moment later.
“I don’t know what to tell you, dude.” You could hear Darcy’s voice from within the crowds. It was easy to spot them, and you swore you saw the ghost of a smile on Natasha’s face. “The kid kicked both of our asses. Split the difference and pay up.”
“Yeah, fine.” Clint fished out his wallet and placed a couple of bills in Darcy’s waiting palm. “The price of carnival food these days is outrageous.”
Kate had presented you with a leather holster that fit snuggly around your chest and abdomen. She’d tightened the straps, your arms halfway raised. It felt a bit like a dressing room at the mall, her breath hot on your cheek as she tugged the center strap to make sure it was secure.
“Natasha likes us to be presentable.” She handed you a dark jacket to throw over the contraption. “Inconspicuous and deadly. But still presentable.”
You followed Kate’s lead. Natasha was to drive to the restaurant, and the two of you were to follow in a separate car. It was important to stay quiet unless you were spoken to directly by Natasha. Kate seemed at ease on the ride over, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel to an incoherent pop song.
The holster pinched you uncomfortably, but you were so deep into your own fear, your own reluctance, to pay much attention. Kate shot you a look, hard in her nature, and then softer when she glanced at you a second time.
“You’re much too tense” she flicked off the radio, delving you into a comfortable silence. “Lower your shoulders and relax. It’ll be an uneventful night.”
“Right,” you let out a shaky breath “uneventful.”
“Look, I can’t imagine how jarring this is for you. I would have shut down by now, changed my name and gone into witness protection if I was thrown into this life the way you are. Without a choice. But, we can make the best of it and do what we can to protect Natasha.”
“It seems like she can handle herself,”
Kate chuckled “Oh, she can. But she doesn’t keep us around just for protection. It’s a big city, she wants people she trusts. She wants a family. And I know it might not seem like it, but her welcoming you into her inner circle… it’s a blessing. Just like we’d go to bat for her, she’d do the same for us.”
You swallowed the dryness in your throat as Natasha pulled her car to the curb in front of a russet brick building. Kate did the same expertly, shutting off the engine. She clapped you on the shoulder, giving you one more encouraging smile. “One night at a time, y/n. Follow my lead.”
Kate opened the door for Natasha, and you had to keep your jaw from dropping on the ground at the sight of her. Her long leg stretched onto the sidewalk, her hand squeezing Kate’s in return as she helped her from the vehicle.
She wore a maroon dress, one that had a slit down the leg that left little to the imagination. The color matched the shirt Kate had given you earlier, everything orchestrated to a tee. The woman looked at you approvingly before she took striding steps towards the front of the building. Out of habit, you held the door open for you, another look sparkling in her dark eyes.
It was a restaurant that you had never set foot in. There was a sour, yet pleasant, scent of vinegar and cabbage masked with that of freshly baked bread and beef. The walls were painted deep green, black and white photos of rolling hills placed above empty tables.
It was clear what table you were to be led to. There was one in the center of the restaurant that was set up with a bottle of wine, and water. A candle burned in the middle, shading the woman who occupied it with shadows that stretched her delicate features. She wasn’t alone.
The woman had cropped blonde hair at the shoulders. Her hazel eyes were calculating, clocking Kate and yourself immediately. Kate pulled Natasha’s chair back, allowing her to sit before she took a step back. You flanked her sides, arms behind your back and stare trained straight ahead like a sentinel.
“Two,” the woman smiled devilishly, hiding it behind a glass of deep red wine. “Are you compensating for something, or someone?”
The woman who stood much like you did behind her boss was not masking her contempt towards you. She was familiar in an irking way that you paid no mind to. It was in passing, you were sure, but it was one of those itches that would worsen until you could scratch it with your whole hand.
“Not at all,” Natasha replied cooly, “I believe there was something you wanted to discuss?”
“Mm, there was. You know the Maroni property on the west side.” She leaned forward, placing her glass down. Her lips were stained in a dark red that matched Natasha’s dress. “I want it.”
“That’s a horrible way to say please.”
“Natasha, we both know it doesn’t serve you in it’s current position.” She put emphasis on the name.
“I fail to see how that matters. Just giving you the property is out of the question. That’s not how this works, but I do admire your gumption.”
“Then how exactly does, this work?” She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. Both you and Kate tensed. The vaguely-familiar woman behind Carol shifted on her feet in the slightest movement. “You kill one of my men and offer nothing in return?”
Natasha lifted her eyebrows “Exactly. This isn’t a bartering system, and it never has been. If I give you this building, it will change everything and I’m not much in the mood for a power struggle. What do you need it for?”
She seemed to falter “I don’t have to answer that. I’m offering to buy the property from you.”
“It’s not for sale.”
There was finality in her voice that rocked the room into silence. She hadn’t touched her wine, nor her water, and you figured she wouldn’t. Carol glowered at her, clearly not used to having her endeavors squashed with such ferocity.  
Natasha took a steadying breath. “Is that all? It’s late and I’m tired of your graveling.”
She let out a sigh and crossed her legs, drumming her ringed fingers on the cloth-laid table. The flames in the candle seemed to react to her impatience. Kate’s jaw clenched and unclenched as she leveled the woman behind Carol with a fierce stare.
“I suppose. I want you to remember this moment, Natasha. I offered you a deal.” She stood and dramatically sighed once more. “This could have been easy.”
Kate always kept her eyes on Carol, on the woman who followed behind her with her hands shoved into her pockets. The darkness of a previous scar littered her collarbone. She had the same stare that Bucky had, that same determined anger that came with years of meetings with higher stakes than this.
“Oh, and Nat.” She stopped just short of the door, turning to face the three of you.
Kate reached for her weapon, and out of a blind trust, so had you. It was warm from its housed place against your side. In that moment, you knew that anyone else in the room would be a quicker shot than you. Still, your heart was beating quickly in your throat.
“I don’t know where your Winter Soldier is, but this is a sorry excuse for a replacement.” She laughed, a mean sound. “A kid and a burn-out… you should’ve taken the deal.”
She left without another word, leaving you in a chilling silence. For a few long moments, Natasha stared at the table, at her reflection in the syrupy red wine. Her fingers brushed against the glass, frowning.
“I’m twenty-three.” Kate let out in a single breath, eyes drifting from you.
“Don’t look at me,” You whispered back, “I am a burn-out.”
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433 notes · View notes
theshiftanlibrary · 11 months
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┈◦•◦❥•◦ | In their ways...
SYNOPSIS: Uh oh! It seems you have fallen ill! Not to worry dear prefect, they will look after you, albeit in their own ways.
CHARACTERS: Riddle Rosehearts; Leona Kingscholar; Azul Ashengrotto; Jamil Viper; Vil Schoenheit; Idia Shroud; Malleus Draconia
TAGS: Fluff; Established Relationships; Hurt/Comfort; Sickfic
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He couldn't help his smile. You were just too cute. Few would beg to differ, what with your snotty nose and whistling breaths, but they wouldn't dare defy the Queen. Lest they lose their heads. He probably shouldn't allow you to take him as your personal pillow, after all he had so much to do. But... A rest won't hurt him. And even if it weren't for you, Trey would have forced his rest.
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Stupid Ruggie... That soup he gave you should have worked an hour ago. Yet, here he is, still suffering through your little whimpers. The twitching stopped though and so did the tossing and turning. So, small wins for now. He probably should have taken you to the infirmary already, but it's his nap time and he's not going to lose his (favorite) pillow. You were the perfect size for cuddling too, what with your small back fitting perfectly into his chest as his arms cradled you so. Tch... Stupid herbivore, why'd ya have to go and get sick?
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The little coughs from the couch pulled at his heartstrings. A strange thing to feel while also simultaneously hooking a poor unfortunate soul into one of his contracts. But his heart still sang whenever he sees you resting on the couch in the VIP room. You were quite sick and loopy when you first plopped down into the couch, so in his benevolence, he draped his coat over your form. Nothing will come bother you here, he'll ensure it.
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The chicken soup is taking too long, he muttered to himself. Your skin burnt as hot as the desert sands, which was concerning to say the least. Even Kalim's fevers weren't this bad. What made it worse had been the fact that you came into the Scarabian kitchens with the fluffiest blanket Kalim had gifted you and your frame still shivered through all those layers. He silently thanked the Sevens for giving him the time to look after you too, since Kalim had been at the Light Music Club. He'll dedicate his life to you should you let him.
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He couldn't bring himself to scold you. Your bleary eyes and red skin told him all he needed to know. A nasty flu afflicted you and you came to him for help. He's quite flattered. Normally, he'd start applying skin care products while listening to your latest escapades but today he simply tucked you into his bed. After your soft scratchy voice asked him so nicely, how could he refuse? Besides, washers were there for a reason. He left you to rest as he dashed around for flu remedies. At least he would have if it weren't for your whines, begging him to stay for just a little longer.
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His hands kept readjusting themselves on your form, making you groan at him as you tightened your grip on his neck. He was sure you could hear his heart beating out of his chest, after all you did nuzzle yourself into his neck and hair. Speaking of his hair, he was also pretty sure you saw the pink glow from under your closed eyelids. His hair never shined so brightly before. But Ortho left him to get some medicine for you, which is cool. KK, GG. But he's gonna get KO'ed if he hears another contented squeak from you.
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Your weight had been quite a relief upon his chest. He started to worry when he heard your scratchy voice politely asking him to cuddle you. He obliged, of course. Your form curled itself into a ball as he held onto you to trace every dip and divet he could find with his fingers. Your skin burned hot, indicating your fever. A voice very similar to Lilia's scolded him for not taking you to the infirmary, but he couldn't bring himself to move. After all, humans needed to rest when they're sick, yes?
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A/N: Ani not posting Genshin content?! More likely than you think. Anyway, I wrote this when I was sick. So most of what the reader has, I had. Fever, runny nose, the whole works. And can you spot who are my favorites? 👀 And I redid my formatting, if you couldn't tell. what am i saying it's been so long since i posted a fic
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addsalwayssick · 1 month
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“Harry, let’s go!” James said, kissing his husband on the cheek and grabbing Harry’s breakfast, which he’ll eat in the car.
Harry, who was incredibly small for his age, and just silly, had a piece of toast stuffed in his big cheeks.
Regulus kissed him back, and gave a small hug to Harry.
James picked Harry up, and put him in his car seat. “You going to have a good day?” James asked Harry as they were driving there.
“Yep!” Harry said, clapping his hand. James couldn’t tell if he was excited or if he was signing. They were trying to teach Harry sign because Remus was deaf, and they wanted them to be able to communicate.
Harry smiled, so James assumed it meant excited. They drove, with James looking back at Harry to make sure he was ok every few minutes.
“What’re you going to do today, Bud?” James asked, smiling at Harry in the mirror.
“Draw. Today we’re learning how to use watercolors!” Harry said.
“That’s good. Maybe now you won’t always be making a mess when you use Papas’.” James teased.
Harry, at the bright age of 6, let out a distinctly teenager sound. James smiled at him and continued to drive.
Eventually, they got to the school, in which James got Harry out of the car and put his school bag on his back.
James held Harry’s hand all the way to the door, where there was a plethora of parents waiting for their kids to be let in.
James was no stranger to being flirted with, nor did he engage with it, so today was no different. A mom left her son with another mom and sauntered over to James. “I can’t get over how cute Harry is! He matches his father!” She said, winking.
James smiled politely. “He’s just like his mum. Of course, he spends every other week at her house. She’s influenced him quite a bit. I’d rather him be like her than me I suppose.”
“I bet you were a little troublemaker growing up.”
James nodded and started to say that he was, in fact a troublemaker, when they all got let in.
And that was the routine.
Every morning, he got up, drove Harry, had a;
“Look how darling you two are together. It’d be nice to get a little dinner together to talk about them, right?” Another mom had asked James.
James really needed to start appreciating Bells more often. They saved him too much.
He smiled apologetically and waved Harry inside.
Every morning.
Wake up
Get Harry
Drive him
Get flirted with
Smile politely
Leave.
Every morning.
Until, he got sick at some point. It wasn’t anything too dreadful, just the flu. His nose was red and he was pretty congested.
Regulus kissed his forehead, which was burning up. “I’ll take Harry today, love. Then i’ll be back to take care of you.”
“Ok, love you.” James said, rather sleepily.
“I love you too.”
So Regulus got Harry in the car, drove there, and waited to be let in.
A mom came up to him with a confused, and almost hateful look in her eyes. “Where James.” She asked, though it sounded more like a cold statement.
“Ah, he’s sick.”
“With what.”
“The flu.” Regulus said simply.
“And who are you?” The mom asked harshly.
“Sorry?” Regulus asked, confused.
“Who are you?” The mom repeated, her voice more aggressive.
“Regulus?” He said, though it came out as more of a question.
“Are you his brother?” The mom asked Regulus, her arms crossed on her chest.
“Who’s?” Regulus was terribly confused.
“James’s.”
Regulus thought before letting out a started laugh. “Me? No. I’m his husband.”
The mom looked positively offended, scoffing away from both Harry and Regulus.
Harry looked up at Regulus with big confused eyes, to which Regulus shrugged.
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bit of a throwback but i quite liked this from back when i wrote it <3 xoxo
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Just for a second - Lando x fem reader
Summary: Y/N "dated" Lando for a while but life happens and sometimes it isn't a fairy tale.
Warnings: Fluff and a sad ending.
Word Count: 17K
Notes: Please, no second part requests. This is me trying to deal with personal stuff I don't know how to work out, and writing helps me get it out. I wrote it in a rush so excuse the mistakes.
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An Instagram DM request called your attention, when clicking on the notification his name froze you. You doubted about opening it.
After panicking for a couple of minutes you finally did.
LvNg4Lf Hey, I will be in Italy next week. Can I take you out for some dinner?
Your heart rushed a million miles an hour.
You had kept yourself busy for the last year to keep him out of your mind, but the moment his stupid face and name appeared on your phone it all came back.
"Y/n? Are you ok?" Ana, your best friend and roommate asked softly as if not to scare you.
"Sorry, yes" you answered matching her tone
"Are you sure? You're biting your nails again"
You removed your hand from your mouth.
"He messaged me"
"Who?" You just stared at her. "Oh hell no, what does he want?"
"He will be here next week, he wants to buy me dinner"
"Why?"
"Don't know"
"What did you say?"
"I haven't answered"
"Are you going?"
"I don't know"
"How do you feel?"
"I don't know, I thought a year would be enough to get over it, but I guess not" you said signaling your bitten nails.
"I don't know what to tell you"
"It's ok, I don't know what I need to hear"
"Do you want me to stay?"
"Hell, no, it's your anniversary dinner. You go, I will be fine"
"Are you sure, I can tell-"
"Go" You pushed her off the couch "Say hi to Leo from me. Have fun"
"Ok, but message me if you need anything"
"I won't and you know it, go!" You pushed her out the door and sat back on the couch, your phone on the coffee table. How could something so insignificant as a message have you losing your mind?
You and Lando had met in the UK at a Quadrant shooting, your boss was in charge of the art department for the shooting but that weekend he had caught a bad cold, and after the pandemic, anything close to the mild flu meant someone else had to take the job and that's how you found yourself in a meeting room with Lando, Max and the rest of the creative team.
It was an instant click, he was funny, and smart, and much to your surprise he had a good eye for colors, textures, and lighting, he was clearly an amateur but better than a few of your "professional" coworkers.
The shooting was long but so entertaining and with such an amazing vibe between you and Lando, when he offered to drive you to your hotel you didn't hesitate and said yes.
It was all super friendly, both of you talking about everything and nothing at the same time, you sat in his car talking well past 5 am.
The next morning you got an Instagram follow request from a weird account and a DM request.
LvNg4Lf Hi, it's Lando, last night was so much fun, it was amazing working with you. I would love to invite you to lunch and talk about future projects. This is my personal account, please don't share it.
The next day the group chat was exploding with messages asking you for details about your hot night with the F1 driver, but there was nothing to tell, it had been all innocent.
The dates started as innocent work meetings but slowly the topics drifted from work to more personal stuff, then the Instagram DMs became more and more frequent, and before you realized you started seeing each other for movie nights and dinner dates. The first kiss happened one night after dinner, he was dropping you off at your flat. He had been weird all night as if something was bothering him, you were worried something was wrong.
"Thanks so much for dinner" You said as he helped you out of his car. "Please let me know when-" He pulled you hard against him placing his hand on your cheek.
"Don't hate me, please" He whispered, and joined your lips shyly.
You kissed him back, it was as natural as all those dates. His soft lips against yours felt amazing.
"I'm sorry" he said out of breath as his forehead rested against yours.
"Don't" You gave a quick peck to his lips.
Just a kiss was shared that night, even when your body was asking for more, and judging by the bulge pressing against your hip, he was craving more too, but neither of you wanted to rush it.
It was just a situationship but it was intense. You kept it down on the low, only your roommate and best friend, and his best friend knew about it. You could see how everyone treated the other "WAGS" and your mental stability wasn't ready for that kind of pressure, especially when you didn't even know what was happening.
He was flying straight back to London after every race, staying over at your house or you going to his, spending as much time together as you could. Movie nights and romantic dinners in either of your places were the usual, but you didn't care about not being outside. His arms around your body, him kissing your forehead, neck, and lips, was better than any date outside, you couldn't keep your hands off each other and didn't want to risk being caught in public.
You were falling, and falling hard. Once you even flew to surprise him at a doubleheader, spending one amazing week with him, living the full F1 experience.
His personal brand had reached a high peak and his management advised him to move to Monaco, it was a good economic decision. He was so excited when he told you about it as he showed you the apartment he had just leased, but all you could think about was what about the "relationship"?
It was the post-sex rush that made him ask you to move with him to Monaco, but it wasn't that easy. You loved your job, and you had worked so hard to get to the position you had now, leaving the country for a situationship wasn't the smartest idea, especially when he wasn't sure about going public or even formalizing. Another suggestion from his team. His Playboy era had proved to be a great marketing strategy, his merch sales had increased the moment he broke up with his last girlfriend, so getting into a relationship was strongly discouraged.
You spoke about it once, but in the end, moving with him or him staying in London was out of the question.
You avoided the topic for the last couple of weeks you were together. He spent his last night in the UK at your place, since his place had been emptied. It was as lovely as every night you had been together, but you couldn't shake away the bitter taste of him leaving and not knowing what would come next,
"We will find a way to make this work, ok?" He whispered against your lips as you said your goodbyes.
"Promise?"
"Yes" he kissed you deeply, biting your lip one last time.
He got in his car and drove off.
You kept in touch, facetime was your best friend for a few weeks, but slowly the communication started to lessen. He had a lot of work with Quadrant and the races, and you received an offer to lead the company's office in Italy which kept you crazy busy.
You moved to Italy a couple months after he had left for Monaco. Thank God, your best friend found a way to move with you thanks to her remote work, keeping you company whenever you needed to vent about your situationship. Around that time you were messaging just a couple times every couple of weeks.
Slowly whatever you had faded away, and even when you still had feelings for him, you did your best to keep yourself busy trying to bury whatever you felt under tons of work and meaningless dates.
But now, his message pulled all those feelings back up, and they were as strong as they were a year ago.
Y/USERNAME Y/workadress, on Friday I'm off at 5
LvNg4Lf Great, see you on Friday
Thank God, Ana spent the rest of the week at her boyfriend's, when she texted you asking about Lando you just replied "I'm not sure yet", she had such a strong mom vibe she would've rushed home just to talk to you about it, ruining Leo's anniversary plans.
"Y/n, somebody's waiting for you in the lobby" one of your workmates said as she entered the meeting room, a cheeky grin on her face.
"Thanks, Lis" You gattered your things nervously.
"Who's the cutie?"
"An old friend" you said escaping her interrogation, you were anxious enough to also worry about the office gossiping about your relationships.
The moment the elevator doors opened you recognized him, his back was facing your way, but the curls were unforgettable, and his arms those damn arms.
"Hey" you softly said standing behind him.
"Hi" A big smile on his face as he took you in his arms.
You hugged him back, it was as if no time had passed. He was bigger, stronger, and his back was broader, but still, your body fitted inside his embrace like a glove, and his scent, you had missed it so much.
He took your bag and jacket as he walked you to his car. Inside he handed you his phone.
"What?" You asked confused, he was usually the designated DJ.
"Your address"
"Why?"
"You need to pack for the weekend"
"What? I thought we were just having dinner"
"Do you trust me?" he stared at you making your heart rush.
"Calm down, Aladdin"
His particular laugh melted your heart, you hadn't realized how much you missed that sound.
You typed your address and started the route.
You shared small talk, he asked you about your day at work and you asked about his trip there.
"Go, I will wait here, I need to make a couple calls" He opened the door and offered his hand to help you out.
"What should I pack for?"
"Whatever you might need for a weekend, if anything is missing we can buy it, now go" He kissed your forehead and took out his phone as you rushed up to your apartment.
You took a quick shower, shaved, and trimmed where it was needed, not that you were expecting anything to happen, as far as you knew this was all friendly, but you didn't want to get caught offward.
"Holly shit, you're not going to believe who I saw-" Ana barged into your room as you were searching for a dress in your closet.
"-what are you doing?" She asked approaching the suitcase on your bed. You just turned and gave a nervous smile. "He invited you to have dinner, and you weren't even sure you were going, now you're packing?"
"Well..."
"Why are you packing? Are you escaping, want to jump in my car's trunk?"
"I'm not escaping, I'm not sure, he just told me to pack for the weekend"
"What if he's kidnapping you to take you to Monaco, should I call the police?"
"I'm not going to Monaco!"
"Not yet" A hint of sadness in her voice.
"I'm not, I swear, we're just doing something that I'm not sure what it is, but I'm not moving anywhere."
"Well, I guess the only thing we're sure about is that sex is part of the plan" She said pulling out the Victoria's Secret set you had packed.
"You never know" you answered with a cheeky smile.
You finished packing and rushed to the door.
"Please take care, be careful, and call me if you need anything, I will send the Italian troops your way immediately"
"Thanks, I will keep you posted" You hugged her and rushed downstairs, Lando placed your bag on the back of his truck and started driving without a map.
"Are you telling me where are we going?" You interrupted the conversation.
"Nope" A proud grin on his face.
"Are we going to Monaco?" You asked shyly.
"Do you want to go to Monaco?" He turned to look at you, some seriousness on his face.
"I'm just asking" You turned your blushing cheeks towards the passenger window.
You kept a casual conversation, the nerves were fading away but then he placed his hand on your thigh, and your breath hitched, it was a normal gesture when you were together, but now it felt like your leg was on fire.
A little over two hours later you were driving on a dirt road toward a lit-up old-style chalet.
He took both your bags, placed the code on the pad at the door and a beautiful living room appeared. It was one of those fairytale-like chalets.
"Follow me" He walked up some stairs to the only room in the house.
"One room?"
"I didn't think you would mind us sharing a bed. If you don't feel like it, I can sleep on the sofa" A hint of shame in his voice.
"No!" you said a little too loud. "I mean, I just... this is all just a surprise, that's it" You walked towards the bed and sat on it. He placed the bags next to the closet and walked towards you, he sneaked between your legs and you hugged him by the waist as his hands wrapped around your shoulders.
"Want to explore before it gets darker?" He kissed your hair.
"Sure" You followed him through the back door.
It was such a beautiful place, a jacuzzi was just outside the living room door, facing the Italian countryside. Not a single sign of other people for miles and miles.
He took your hand, intertwining your fingers as you walked through the dimly lit path. The conversation was about it all, your new job, the F1 season so far, just like old times.
Night fell and you walked back to the chalet, the full moon giving you enough light not to need the phone flashlight.
You prepared dinner and sat in the living room to watch a movie. After you finished eating you found yourself leaning against his chest, Aladdin playing on the flat screen as his fingers softly played with your hair, and yours traced the veins on his arm around your waist. A knot in your throat, you missed this so much.
As Aladdin was kissing Princess Jazmine after defeating Jafar his finger found your chin, turning it softly towards him. You stared deep into his eyes, your breath hitched when his tongue traced his lips. You moved your hand to cup his cheek and pulled him to join your lips. The kiss was soft, but filled with emotion.
His tongue entered your mouth as you turned your body to face him completely. His hands found your thighs guiding you to straddle him.
"Are you sure about this?" He asked breaking the kiss, as much as he was dying to be with you he wanted to make sure you were ok.
"Yes" you answered leaving a soft kiss on his nose.
That was all he needed to hear and in no time you were naked, his lips traveling to the places he missed the most. The moment he entered you it was as if you were two pieces from the same puzzle.
Magical, wasn't enough to describe the weekend. You had sex in every single surface of that chalet as if you were trying to make up for lost time. Even the sex in the jacuzzi was amazing, you had heard a ton of stories discouraging you from doing it in the water but it had been one of the best experiences in your life.
It was the early hours of Sunday, and you had to leave the chalet that afternoon. Your head on Lando's chest as his fingers traced figures on your back. A sudden feeling of sadness took over your body. A couple tears escaped your eyes.
"Y/n?" Lando took your face when he felt a warm tear on his chest and you sobbed silently.
"I'm ok" You said trying to sound normal.
"Come here" He sat up, his back against the headboard and he pulled you to straddle him, this time it wasn't sexual, he just needed you close. His face showed he was as unsure as you were, bringing more tears to your eyes.
"I know" he softly said as you laid your head on his chest and finally let the tears fall freely.
When the tears had eased you lifted your head back. Seeing your red eyes and nose broke his heart.
"You're thinking the same, right?" You lowly asked as you saw his eyes starting to water.
"Complicated?" his voice hoarsed from the tears he was holding back.
"Yes"
"You seem happy in Italy"
"You seem happy in Monaco"
He nodded and you leaned your head back on his chest as fresh tears fell from your eyes.
"Having you by my side would make me happier" he softly said as his fingers played with your hair.
"Same"
You knew that for now, this was impossible. As much as you loved being with him, you loved your work, your life in Italy was amazing and you couldn't ask him to do something you weren't willing to do yourself. Maybe you didn't love him as much as you thought, but why was this hurting so much? You could feel your heart breaking into a million pieces as his chest moved in a way that let you know he was crying too.
"I'm sorry" He whispered
"Don't, it was amazing, it's just...life"
"This fucking life"
"Ok" you took a deep breath and whipped your cheeks. "We still have a few hours, let's make the most of them"
He smiled, his eyes still shining from the tears, which made you sigh. "But first" He kissed your neck. "One more?" he pulled you down grinding your body against his growing bulge.
"Let's see if we can fit two" You smiled against his lips and hugged his neck.
After leaving the chalet you stopped by a small trattoria, eating slowly, enjoying every bite. Back on the road he was driving the speed limit, trying to spend the most time together.
He parked next to your car.
"I'll help you with it" He said as he stopped you from taking your bag.
"It's ok" You tried to reach for it.
"I insist" he took a step back.
"Lan, I can do it, please" You looked up at him, your eyes watery again.
"But..."
"Thanks for this, it was magical, but I think it's time" You tried to hold back the tears, he was doing the same. He didn't say a word but handed you your suitcase.
You hugged him hard. He breathed in your scent, trying to lock it in his memory and you did the same with his.
The garage door opening interrupted the moment.
He whipped your tears and you did the same with his.
He kissed your lips softly, you knew the three words he was holding back because you were holding them back too.
"Good luck next weekend"
"Thanks, good luck at work"
You said goodbye as if you were seeing each other soon just to make it less painful, but the truth was completely different.
He watched you walk towards the elevator. you saw a faint smile on his face as the door closed.
The moment your appartment door closed Ana rushed to you, hugging you hard when she saw the heavy tears falling from your eyes.
Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec, @ironmaiden1313, @formulas-bitch,
Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.
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imaginespazzi · 7 days
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Part 5: One Perfect Day
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
Let me photograph you in this light (in case it is the last time that we might be exactly like we were)
(In which a procrastinating writer procrastinates giving her ship happiness)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Pining, Some Fluff
Words: 7.5K
TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Alludes to Sexual Content
A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. As many of you have reminded me it is indeed Friday and so here we are, nobody needs to yell at me! I know I'm years too late with this but I hope y'all like it anyways, even though this is very much mainly hurt with very little comfort. But for things to get better, they have to get worse and remember, it's all for the plot! There's plenty of creative liberty taken this chapter with how hotels and post-championship celebrations work and other logistics but I wrote it how I needed to so just go with it. Did I edit? Yes. Are there typos and errors anyway? Probably. As always, tell me what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a wonderful weekend lovelies!!
March 2019 
The final buzzer echoes through the Williams Arena, and the disappointment of the last couple of years is finally drowned out as the Hopkins Royals win the state championship. Surrounded by the cheers of her teammates, Paige doesn’t know if she’d call this the happiest moment of her life, the stomach flu symptoms haven’t quite faded yet, but she knows it’s definitely on her mount rushmore of times when life was great. 
For a second, as she’d been crouched over the toilet with Azzi’s hands soothingly rubbing her back, feeling her soul leave with the remnants of last night's dinner, Paige had almost lost hope. But she’d never been taught to give up without a fight. And so it hadn’t mattered that she definitely looked a little green or that standing up was taking twice the energy it normally did, Paige was going to play today. It hadn’t been a flashy scoring night but she’d done everything else her team needed. And as that lead had built and built and built, Paige knew, the moment was still hers. 
“Paigeyyyyy,” Drew is the first one to find her after her and her teammates break apart, launching his tiny body into her legs, “you won!”
Paige laughs, lifting her brother into her arms and spinning him around, “I told you I was gonna didn’t I?”
One by one, her whole family, the epitome of a modern family, pull her into hugs and then they gather into one large group hug, with Paige at the centre of it all. Her siblings look at her with pure admiration while her parent’s eyes are filled with pride. And it fulfils that part of Paige that has always lived a little more for her family than for herself. 
As her family moves away slowly, Paige finds herself face to face with Azzi’s shining smile and her heart skips a beat. And she doesn’t really know when it started or even how really, but it gets a little more difficult every time she sees Azzi, for Paige to convince herself that that fluttering in her chest is nothing. 
“You look a little pale white girl,” Azzi teases, taking a couple of steps towards the blonde, “glad you didn’t vomit all over the floor.”
“Nah no bullshit flu is stopping Paige Bueckers. The flu is scared of me,” Paige juts out her chest with a smirk, earning her a patented eye roll from the younger girl. 
“Oh yeah, you’re real scary,” Azzi indulges before pulling Paige into a bone-crushing hug, “I’m proud of you P.”
Paige smiles into the crook of Azzi’s neck, basking in the glow of the compliment. It’s these little moments they have in between their constant banter, where they let themselves be each other’s biggest cheerleaders, that makes them Paige and Azzi. They pull away, still grinning. and Paige’s eyes roam over the Team Paige jersey framing Azzi’s body. It makes her feel some type of way to see the younger girl wearing her name across her chest, but it’s not a feeling Paige is quite ready to accept. Perhaps it’s been written in their destiny that someday things will change, that eventually they’ll both have to confront the something more that’s simmering underneath it all, but for now, Paige just wants to protect what they already have. 
“That’s a pretty jersey,” she says with a wink, fingers rushing over the soft material. 
“I was forced at gunpoint to wear it,” Azzi sighs dramatically, “I was actually cheering for Stillwater. Their pg’s kinda cute.”
Paige bristles at the comment, the queasiness from this morning returning with vengeance, “she’s mid as hell on and off the court.”
“Don’t be petty Paige. You think she’d let me wear her jersey instead?” 
“You know what,” Paige fights a losing battle with the quick surge of anger that’s taking birth in her stomach, “how about you take off my winner’s jersey and go to the loser’s locker room and beg for her jersey instead.”
She knows Azzi’s joking, knows the point guard on the other team isn’t even really Azzi’s type, knows that even if Azzi’s being serious, Paige doesn’t have a right to feel this way. But that green eyed monster is clawing at her heart, squeezing it and making it hard to breathe. 
“Oh- hey hey hey,” Azzi’s quick to grab at her when Paige tries to storm off, “chill dude. You know I’m just kidding.”
“Well it wasn’t funny,” Paige pouts, aware that she’s being unnecessarily childish. 
Azzi opens her mouth, about to make some smartass quip but there must be something about how genuinely frustrated Paige looks that softens her expression, “I came to watch you P. I have no idea what that other girl was doing. I was cheering for you the whole time.”
“You’re so sappy,” Paige snorts, throwing a handful of confetti at Azzi, but inside, the ice cold jealousy melts into something warm and lovely, spreading through her heart into her veins. 
“Can’t even say nice shit without you being a dick about it,” Azzi rolls her eyes, as she links her arms through Paige’s,  “now come on, let’s go celebrate you.”
***
It’s almost 2 a.m. when Paige’s teammates finally begin to filter out of her house, leaving with droopy eyes and tired smiles. She and Azzi stand in the doorway, waving goodbye to every last one of them and it feels a little domestic, like a couple after a dinner party. Paige shakes that thought away the minute it begins to form, forcing herself to ignore the burst of wouldn’t that be lovely that blooms in her chest.
“What if I just fell asleep here?” Paige sags against the doorframe. 
“You’d probably fall flat on your face and I’d get an epic video of it.”
“You’re so fucking mean to me.”
“Oh yeah right because you’re so nice to me.”
“Am to,” Paige retorts, before she makes grabby hands towards Azzi, “carry me?”
Azzi swats her hands away, “Absolutely not lazy, it’s one flight of stairs.”
“That’s like 20 steps,” Paige whines. To be honest, she’s not that tired. Out of the two of them, she’s probably closer to being a night owl. But Paige is nothing if not a little bit of nuisance, especially when it comes to Azzi. 
“Are you an athlete or not,” Azzi chides, rolling her eyes. 
“Bro I just won a championship AND I had the flu. And you won’t even carry me? What kind of best friend are you?”
“Paige.”
“Azziiiiii.”
“Paige I’m tired.”
“Pleeeeeaseeee.”
The younger girl sighs, a sign of her caving in, before turning around so her back is facing Paige's front, “fine, get on you big baby.”
“YES-”
“Dude shut up, you’re gonna wake everybody up,” Azzi groans, always the responsible one. 
“Sorry, sorry,” Paige whispers as she jumps onto Azzi’s back, the force of it causing the brunette to take a couple steps forward, “fucking hell Azzi don’t drop me.”
Azzi lets out an indignant squawk, as she regains her balance,  “with that attitude, I should drop you.”
“If you’re too weak to carry me, just say that,” Paige teases, wrapping her legs firmly around Azzi’s torso.  She buries her shit-eating grin in her best friend’s neck, as she loops her arms around Azzi’s shoulders.
“It is not my fault you’ve put on like a hundred pounds since I last saw you.”
Azzi squeals when Paige pinches at her ribcage and the blonde immediately slaps a hand on her best friend’s mouth, “what happened to being quiet? Now, onwards horsey- OW! Did you just fucking bite my hand!?”
“What happened to being quiet?” Azzi mocks, adjusting Paige’s weight on her back as she begins to walk towards the staircase, grumbling something under her breath about ‘ungrateful best friends’ but Paige knows she doesn’t mean a word of it. She snuggles further into Azzi’s neck, letting herself breathe in the scent of the younger girl. 
When Azzi had first left Minnesota, after they’d spent every second since the plane ride back from Argentina, Paige had thought that that hollowness in her chest was temporary, that it would fade once she got back into daily life. It didn’t. And the thing is the word miss had existed in Paige’s dictionary before too but she doesn’t think she really understood what it meant til she started to miss Azzi. 
As soon as they reach Paige’s bedroom, Azzi’s already swatting Paige off her back. The blonde falls back onto the pillows on her bed with a content sigh, watching with a cheeky grin as Azzi pretends to stretch out the muscles on her back and her arms.
“I think that might have broke my fucking back,” the younger girl groan, face scrunching up in mock exhaustion, “and I have to sit on a plane again tomorrow.”
That wipes the smile straight off Paige's face. It’s so easy to get lost in the moment with Azzi, so easy to forget that they spend less time together than they do apart. They haven’t bothered with the actual lights but even in the dim glow of the moon through Paige’s windows, Azzi sees her best friend’s change in expression clearly, her own face becoming melancholic. Sighing, she climbs onto the bed herself and lies down next to Paige, intertwining her hands with the older girl’s. 
“You could stay a little longer,” Paige says after a moment, eyes resolutely focused on the ceiling. 
Azzi let out a wistful sigh, “I wish. But you know I can’t.”
“You can, you just won’t, little miss goody-two-shoes,” the light-hearted teasing eases some of the mood as they both let out soft giggles. They dissolve into a comfortable silence before, “I can’t wait til we’re playing for UConn together.”
Paige misses the way Azzi stiffens a little next to her, too enthralled with imagining a future where she and her best friend could conquer the world together. She knows Azzi, with all her indecisive tendencies, hasn’t quite come around to being anywhere near ready to pick a college team yet but Paige still has time to convince her and Paige Bueckers is nothing if not persuasive. 
“So it’s definitely UConn then?” 
“Yeah. I mean it’s UConn dude. The UConn. They’re the best. All these other programs are nice but when UConn calls, you don’t say no to that shit,” and Paige means that with all her heart. As the number one recruit in her class, there had been no shortage of offers and of course Paige had entertained them for a little while. But the minute Geno Auriemma had given his offer, everything else had become obsolete. She hadn’t committed yet, still maintaining a façade of being in the decision stage, but all of that was just a front. Paige knows she’s meant to be a UConn husky, there’s no way around it. 
“I think you’ll make a pretty damn good Husky,” Azzi says with a soft smile, as she absentmindedly plays with Paige’s fingers. 
“We’ll make damn good Huskies,” Paige affirms. 
“I don’t know P, California’s pretty tempting,” it’s said teasingly but a hint of seriousness slips through the cracks anyway. 
Paige scoffs, “cause it’s hot? Bruh that much heat would be boring. Connecticut gets all four seasons. We’d get the heat and the snow.”
“I get all of that in Virginia already,” Azzi points out with a huff, “maybe I want something different.”
“You do get something different. You get to play with me. That’s different.”
“Yeah but-”
“Dude why are you fighting me on this? Do you not want to be on the same team as me or something?” Paige asks agitatedly, suddenly feeling frustrated with the turn the conversation had taken. 
“Okay breathe,” Azzi gives her a stern side-eye, “I was just saying California’s nice. Of course I want to be on your team. Did the shirt not make that obvious?”
Involuntarily, Paige has to smile at the memory of Azzi’s jersey, the team Paige that had been loudly imprinted across her chest, “right, sorry got a little carried away. I just always want you on my team, you know?”
“I’m always on Team Paige. I always have been. I always will be,” Azzi says firmly, as if it’s the most obvious truth in the world.  
When Paige turns her head to look at her best friend, the younger girl is already looking back at her and the sincerity in Azzi’s eyes makes Paige’s heart stutter. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige swears she can see every little detail in the dim light. And the thing is Paige has always known Azzi’s a pretty girl, she’s not blind. But it’s different tonight. Tonight Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that Paige wants to memorise until it’s imprinted in the back of her eyelids, the kind of beautiful that she wants to lock away in a treasure chest and preserve only for her own eyes to ever see again. The kind of beautiful that Paige knows she isn’t allowed to think of Azzi as. But still, right now, Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that makes Paige want to try and see if maybe, just maybe, there’s the possibility for something more. 
That night, when she finally falls asleep to the sound of her best friend’s quiet breathing, Paige dreams of UConn and championships and at the end of it all, kissing Azzi under the confetti. 
***
April 2024
There’s 14 seconds left in the National Championship game and UConn is ahead by eight points. Adrenaline courses through Paige’s veins as that one elusive dream of hers seems to finally be coming closer and closer to fruition. Winning a National Championship had been on her mind since she’d first picked up a basketball. The minute she’d committed to UConn, it had felt inevitable and yet year after year, her team had fallen just a little short. But this afternoon, it seems like it’s finally within grasp. 14 seconds to go. 14 steps closer to having her perfect moment. 
Except, every time Paige had imagined this moment, she’d expected her best friend to be there. In the beginning, before everything, she’d dreamed of them being on the court together, running into each other’s arms the minute the buzzer sounded. And then, until the last second today before she had to take the court, Paige had just assumed that when she’d look in the stands, somewhere in the crowd, there’d be the one face she wanted to see most in the world. But no matter how much she squinted, that face had been nowhere to be found and Paige had forced herself to compartmentalise her disappointment, and focus on the game. She hadn’t looked at the crowd since. 
The ball is in the other team’s hands, their point guard, diligently calling out plays before she inbounds it. Coach’s words echo in Paige’s head, try for a clean steal but don’t under any circumstances foul. Their pg inbounds the ball and the shot clock starts to count down. The ball bounces through the hands of different players on the other team but the UConn defence is stifling. Their coach is out of timeouts and it isn’t until the last millisecond that they heave up a prayer shot. And it doesn’t matter if it goes in, it’s a two point possession game, but Paige’s eyes are glued on the basketball anyways. 
The shot is an airball. The buzzer sounds through the arena. UConn wins their 12th national championship. 
For a second, everything goes silent around Paige. The normally over-excitable girl, known for her insane golden retriever energy, is perfectly still. It takes a couple more seconds for the adrenaline to hit. And then she’s screaming, pummeling her body into the rest of her teammates as the bleed blue crowd goes wild. She loses herself in the noise of her teammates cheering and the bright lights of cameras flashing nearby. They did it. And it doesn’t erase just how fucking hard the last couple of year had been, but it makes the burden significantly lighter. 
Paige rushes through the handshake line, the opposing team’s coach giving her an appreciative review of her performance before she’s recaptured into a group hug by her teammates. It’s a surreal feeling really, one that’s far better than even her most wonderful dreams. For the first time since the game began, Paige lets her gaze wander over to the family section who are all tearfully hugging, smiling at her parents and then her siblings and then- 
When her eyes meet Azzi’s, it’s like the last piece of the puzzle has finally settled into its rightful place, completing the perfect picture of Paige’s perfect moment. A #5 UConn jersey hangs loosely against Azzi’s hips as she smiles shyly at her best friend. And Paige is scared to blink, scared if she looks away, the girl in front of her will disappear. It takes everything in her to not rush into the stands, pull her best friend into her and kiss her under the confetti. 
Azzi doesn’t budge when the rest of the family and friends crew start to move towards the court. There’s too much attention, too much media, for that to be a feasible option. Paige wishes they would all just disappear, let her have her moment the exact way she’d pictured it. She thinks she’d like to fulfil that dream of hers, kiss Azzi in the confetti, twirl her around, and between it all, let the world know that she was Paige’s. 
As always, Drew is the first person to reach her. He’s a little too big for her to pick up, but she spins him around anyway. 
“You won Paigey,” her little brother squeals and he might be older now, but that innocent admiration of his older sister is as palpable as always, “I knew you could do it!”
“Thanks for always believing in me, little dude,” Paige says softly, leaning her cheek against the top of Drew’s head.
Over the top of her brother's head, Paige realises with sudden panic that Azzi’s not there anymore. Dread filters into her bloodstream, the voices in her head screaming it was too good to be true. The way her body tenses doesn’t go unnoticed by her mother who’s quick to hold her. 
“She said to tell you she’d see you at the hotel later,” Amy Jo says with a knowing smile, before letting Paige’s body sag into hers. She rubs her daughter’s back as relief settles into the younger girl's features, “proud of you Paigey.”
Paige smiles into her mother’s chest. Last year had been the hardest of her life and for a while the light at the end of the tunnel had been hard to see. Today, she feels the light surrounding her, washing away all the darkness from the last few years, bathing her in the glow of happiness. 
***
“I always knew you’d look good in a UConn jersey.”
Azzi’s eyes fly open and Paige smirks, leaning her body against the wall. The last couple of hours had been a whirlwind of media, champagne and excited chatter about what the after party would be like. Paige’s focus had been on celebrating, but the thought of getting back to Azzi had been a constantly lingering presence in the back of her mind. And as the bus had gotten closer to the hotel, anxiety had creeped in because what if Azzi wasn’t there? What if she’d changed her mind? 
Paige had smiled for the fans outside the hotel, diligently posing for pictures and signing autographs, ignoring the heaviness in heart. But as soon as she was far away from prying eyes, she was bolting towards her room. And then everything was okay. Paige has heard a lot of cliché things about love, about how it makes you hear violins and see stars and all of that, about how it increases your heart rate and makes you flush. But Paige thinks all of that can’t quite be right. Because when she’d seen Azzi, curled up in her sheets, #5 jersey crumpled but still fitted around her body, Paige had only felt a sense of calm. And that Paige thinks, is probably the actual truth of love, it’s about finding peace and to Paige, Azzi has always been her peace. 
“I’d look great in any jersey,” Azzi claps back groggily, moving to sit up. 
“But you look the best in mine. You always have,” Paige tries to keep her voice teasing, but it comes out sounding rather wistful, and the next words are even softer, “you came.”
Azzi bites her lips, looking down at her fiddling thumbs, “you asked me to.”
Those four little words carve themselves into a little crevice in Paige’s heart as if they’ll stay there forever, as if they’ll echo through her entire body for the rest of time. She practically throws herself onto the younger girl, the force of it pushing Azzi back down into the pillows, as she buries her head in the crook of Azzi’s neck. Their legs slot together of their own accord and it’s a little bit like they’re trying to meld into each other’s skin the way they press themselves as close as possible, til there’s barely space for air in between them. They lie like that for god knows how long; it goes by in a rush and yet ever so slowly. 
“I’m really fucking happy you’re here,” Paige whispers into Azzi’s skin, “really fucking happy.”
Azzi doesn’t say anything, humming into Paige’s hair as she tightens her grip on the blonde’s waist but Paige can tell by the way she stiffens underneath her, that Azzi’s holding herself back from something. Her heart hammers in her chest as she lifts her face from Azzi’s neck to inspect the younger girl’s face. 
“What aren’t you saying to me Az?” she whispers quietly with a sinking feeling.
“Paige,” Azzi closes her eyes. And just that is enough for Paige to understand exactly what’s going through her best friend’s head and suddenly she wishes she’d never asked, just let them have this moment. 
“Never mind, I don't want to hear it.”
“That’s not how that works. I- I wanted to wait a little but we- we need to talk.”
“No we don’t,” Paige retorts stubbornly, fighting the tears threatening to spill, “I don’t want to.”
“Paige-”
The girl in question pushes herself off of Azzi, rising to sit on her knees, “this is meant to be the best day of my life Azzi.”
“I know- I’m sorr-”
“What game are you playing, Azzi? Why even fucking come if you were never gonna stay?” Paige spits out. 
“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” Azzi says softly, as she sits up “maybe- maybe I should have stayed away. But it’s you Paige, it’s you and I- I’ve never been that good at staying away from you. And maybe I’m just really selfish but I- I told you once that I wanted to be there when your dreams came true and so- here I am.”
They’d barely known each other when Azzi had said that, when they had just been young innocent girls with a tentative friendship, lying in the grass and sharing their dreams. Back then, the words had thrown Paige off. She hadn’t quite understood why they had meant that much to her, why they had filled her with more warmth than the sun shining above them. But she’d tucked them away in a little corner of her heart hoping she’d understand it better when she was older. She’s older now and she understands. Except every single emotion she’d felt at fifteen is heightened with the realisation that the words had meant something to Azzi too. And-
Paige surges forward to kiss Azzi. She’s pretty sure this bipolar act of theirs will be the death of them someday but it’s the only thing in the moment that makes sense. Azzi is hesitant at first, clearly too in her head, always the overthinker, but she gives in when Paige squeezes at her waist. It’s not as if they’ve kissed that many times before but it feels familiar, a little bit like coming home. She moves to straddle Azzi’s hips and they can’t get any closer really with every bit of their bodies pressed together now, but Paige tries anyways, tries to etch please don’t leave me into the other girl’s skin. And she isn’t sure if the salt she can taste is from the tears steadily streaming from Azzi’s eyes or the ones free-falling from her own. 
The minute Azzi pulls away, Paige misses her. 
“We can’t-”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Paige cuts Azzi off immediately, resting her forehead against the younger girl’s, “please.”
“Paige,” Azzi breathes out, “I have to go.”
“No you don’t,” Paige says stubbornly. 
“Paige please-”
“Stay- fuck please- Azzi- just give me tonight. Tomorrow we can talk and you can-,” Paige swallows, not wanting to say leave out loud, “but please- tonight can we just pretend? Can you give me that? Fuck- can I just have tonight? Please- just- stay.”
Azzi lets out a shaky breath, “it won’t make it hurt less.”
“I know- fuck- I know but I just don’t want it to hurt right now.”
“Okay,” Azzi whispers slowly, thumb caressing Paige’s wet eyelashes, “okay, I’ll stay tonight.”
Paige kisses her again. 
***
The UConn team falls in love with Azzi in a matter of hours. No one had been shocked when Paige had shown up to the after party a.k.a everybody gathering at the hotel bar, fashionably late and with a nervous Azzi teetering behind her. It had been awkward at first; everyone was a little unsure of how to act around the new presence. Not only was Azzi from a rival team, but everyone was at least a little aware of her tumultuous relationship with their star player. But then KK had wanted to film a tiktok that needed someone to do random camerawork and when everybody else had groaned, Azzi had quietly volunteered. Much to KK’s delight, Azzi turned out to be quite the cameraman. And that apparently was all that was needed and Paige marvels at the way Azzi just fits.
She moves around Paige’s team as if they’re just as much hers. One second she’s timing some stupid drinking game that KK and Ice are playing, the next she’s sitting in a corner laughing with a more subdued Ash and Q. 
Aubrey and Ayanna gush over their girlfriend and Azzi’s coos over their pictures, a hint of wistfulness on her face when she meets Paige’s eyes. 
The team does their routine of teasing Aaliyah’s about being vegetarian and Azzi diligently backs the Canadian up with a spiel of how tofu isn’t actually that bad. That gets her a hi-5 from Aaliyah despite the eye rolls from the rest of the team. 
Despite being a little tipsy from having been dragged into doing shots with Amari and Carol, the two other people she knows pretty well, Azzi diligently lets Inés and Jana teach her little bits of Portuguese and Egyptian. 
Even Nika sheds her frostiness, amused by Azzi’s curiosity to learn her native language beyond just the curse words, and teaches the younger girl a couple of words. Azzi rolls her eyes fondly when she realises she’s been taught to say UConn is the best team ever in Croatian and amidst Nika’s laughter, Paige knows is a hidden acceptance. 
But the best part of it is that although Azzi’s suddenly being pulled in all different directions by various UConn girls, she never really leaves Paige’s side through it all. There’s always a little bit of them touching, whether it’s their shoulders or their knees, even when they’re both involved in completely different conversations and activities. It feels oddly domestic and Paige is reminded of the part after her state championship all over again. The burst of i want this forever that stirs in her chest makes her want to sob because it collides head first against a wall of this is only for tonight. And Paige knows that one night won’t ever be enough for her. 
“Aye Paige’s girl, come play truth or shots with,” KK’s loud voice breaks through Paige’s cloud of distress and it’s eclipsed by the implication of those two words. 
Paige’s girl. The phrases makes itself home in Paige’s heart, sounding so fucking right. She hasn’t let herself acknowledge it truly ever but that’s how it’s always been in Paige’s mind. It’s how she’s always thought of Azzi. As hers. Her Azzi. Her girl. 
“I’m not-that’s not-” Azzi’s cheeks are tinted pink as she stutters through her words, withering under KK’s cocked eyebrow. 
“Uh-okay if you say so,” KK rolls her eyes, holding her hands up in a sarcastic defensive position, “guess we’re starting off truth or shots by lying.”
The rest of the team laughs as Azzi’s blush grows even deeper and Paige can’t even try and hide her smile, her own neck tingling a little bit as she tucks herself into Azzi’s side. And it’s not real, they’re not anything, but in this moment it feels a little bit like they’re everything. 
“You guys are sickening,” Ice accuses when she notices the two of them cheesily smiling at each other, “it makes me gag.”
“They’re cute. Leave them alone,” Caroline chastises, ever the supportive friend. 
Azzi leans back against Paige’s arm as the group goes around the circle, asking each other ridiculous questions, cheering like little kids when their teammates opts to drink instead of answering a vaguely invasive question. When it’s her turn, Paige can already tell by the glint in KK’s eyes that her menace mini-me is about to cause trouble. 
“Paigey cakes, when’s the last time you had sex?”
Next to her, Paige can feel Azzi stiffen immediately. The shot feels heavy in Paige’s hand as she seriously contemplates taking it. She knows why KK asked the question, probably having concocted some idea of exposing Paige and Azzi. She’d known by the waggling eyebrows that the whole team had thought the two of them were late because they’d been fucking but that couldn’t be further from the bitter truth. 
Paige chances a look at Azzi’s face as she bites down on her lips. The younger girl’s face is stoically devoid of any emotion and Paige knows she’s thinking about the night of the crash (or as Paige likes to call it, the most terrifying night of her life) except- 
“November, last year,” Paige says slowly and Azzi whips her face around to look at her, lips falling apart in shock. 
“Don’t play, there’s no fucking way,” Ice guffaws and Paige shrugs. 
“It’s the truth.”
“Bruh what the fuck,” KK looks a little shell-shocked, “how the fuck did you survive that long?”
“Some of us actually know what to do with our own fingers,” Paige quips defensively, trying to ignore the butterflies dancing in her stomach at the way Azzi’s still looking at her. 
“I bet Azzi knows all about your fingers huh Azzi?” and even that, KK’s unhinged commentary, isn’t enough to get Azzi to pull her gaze away from Paige. It’s almost as if she hadn’t heard it all. 
“You didn’t- that night?” Azzi manages to get out. 
“Couldn’t do it,” Paige mumbles, “she wasn’t you.”
Despite the horde of people around them, they’re in their own little bubble now. There are a multitude of questions swimming in Azzi’s eyes and Paige wants to answer all of them if it means that maybe just maybe, she could prevent the inevitable misery tomorrow would bring. 
“Okay Azzi, it’s your turn,” Amari’s voice draws Azzi’s attention away and Paige feels cold without the heat of it. She doesn’t know how she’ll survive tomorrow. Living in the present isn’t working and Paige finds herself already feeling the emptiness she knows will become her reality in a couple of hours. Her fingers tap an incessant pattern on her thigh as she tries to keep her focus on the game, 
Azzi swallows nervously before mustering up a grin with false confidence, “I’m ready. Hit me with your best, I’m not drinking.”
“We’ll see about that,” KK smirks, diabolically rubbing her hands together, before she turns to Nika, “all yours Nik-Nik.”
The other girls “ooh”, knowing  Nika’s reputation for being notoriously good at this game. The Croatian grins at Azzi, as she sits up from where she’d been lazily lying on the love seat, a glint of mischief in her eyes. And then her eyes meet the forlorn ones of her twin and something shifts. When she looks back at Azzi, there’s a more serious look on Nika’s face. 
“Have you ever been in love?”
There’s pin drop silence once the gravity of the question registers. The light-hearted air in the room is replaced with anticipation, as all of Paige’s teammates look back and forth between their point guard and her best friend. Paige isn’t sure if she wants to know the answer, doesn’t know if there’s an answer that wouldn’t break her heart just a little bit. For a second, it looks like Azzi’s going to drink until she puts the shot down on her hand rest until- 
“Yes,” she confesses in a whisper, and Paige feels her heart begin to race, “I have.”
“How many times?” Nika prods
“That’s not how the game works. I already answered your question.”
“Different rules for newcomers,” Nika shrugs. It’s a blatant lie but nobody says anything. Paige is still caught up in her own head and the other girls won't challenge Nika, not when they’re just as curious, “I get to ask questions til you drink.”
Azzi narrows her eyes, knowing it’s all bullshit and maybe if she wasn’t a little bit tipsy and competitive, maybe if she couldn’t feel every inch of Paige’s side pressed against her, she’d walk away but she can’t. 
“Only once,” she answers. 
“With your ex-girlfriend?” Nika asks. The way she raises an eyebrow suggests there’s only one right answer to the question. Paige doesn’t know if there’s a right or wrong answer, only that there’s an answer that would shatter her. 
“No. I was never in love with her,” Azzi directs the answer towards Nika, but everyone knows it’s meant for Paige’s ears. And despite the tornado still roaring in her body, the blonde lets out a sigh of relief. 
Nika’s intimidating demeanour cracks a little bit when that answer makes her smile, “are you in love with someone right now?”
Even if it’s not said out loud, the implication of Nika’s question, the someone, is clear. And suddenly Paige doesn’t want to hear the answer, not right now, not when they’re both a little tipsy, not when they’re surrounded by all her teammates, not when their future is so unclear. 
“Drink,” Paige cuts in, holding the shot in front of Azzi, “don’t answer it.”
“Paige-”
“Drink Azzi,” Paige says firmly. 
Azzi looks equal parts relieved and frustrated as she downs the drink, happy to have gotten out of the uncomfortable round of questioning but a little annoyed at losing in front of the UConn girls. 
“And you said you wouldn’t drink,” Nika sneers, as she hi-5’s her teammates. 
“Because you bent the rules; she did great,” Paige defends immediately and everyone snickers, the mood in the room returning to something more casual.
“So fucking pussywhipped,” Ice teases. 
“Shut up,” Paige whines, hiding her face against Azzi’s shoulder as everybody else laughs. If the voices in head screaming this is just for tonight would shut up for a second, Paige thinks maybe she could fall in love with this moment, surrounded by her found family. 
It’s almost 3 am when the team decides maybe they should start going to bed, knowing they have a morning flight back to Connecticut. Everyone else is still in a jovial mood, sufficiently drunk of both alcohol and the high of a championship but Paige’s stomach pools with dread. Every minute is a step closer to a goodbye, she’ll never be prepared to say. 
They get to the lobby of the hotel when Paige turns to Azzi, ignoring her anxiety to be a nuisance instead. 
“No,” Azzi says immediately when she sees Paige making grabby hands at her, “there’s literally an elevator Paige.”
“So? That just makes it easier for you. This is tradition.”
“In what world is this a tradition?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly. 
“Since I won the state championship,” Paige grins, “pleeeeease, I’m tired, my feet hurt.”
Azzi gives her an unimpressed look, “you’ve been sitting for the last couple of hours.”
“And before that I was winning a championship, after beating your team by the way,” Paige’s smirk widens when Azzi guffaws at catching a stray. 
“Oh fuck off. Reminding me of that is not the way to get me to carry you by the way.”
“C’mon Az, you know you’re gonna give in anyway. You know you wanna sleep, stop wasting time.”
Azzi rolls her eyes with a dramatic sight before doing exactly what she always does, giving into Paige, “hop on then you big baby.”
Paige cheers, latching on Azzi’s back as her knees circle around the other girl’s waist. Unlike when they were younger, Azzi’s doesn’t stumble anymore at the additional weight. She’s stronger now, completely solid and steady underneath Paige and that absolutely doesn’t trigger any inappropriate thoughts in the older girl’s brains, absolutely. 
“Y’all are so cringe,” KK crinkles up her face when she turns to look at them as they wait for the elevator, but there’s a certain amount of fondness in her voice, “but Azzi’s cool. Much cooler than you P boogers. You should bring her around more often.”
Paige’s smile vanishes in tandem with Azzi letting out a strangled noise. KK looks between the two of them, slowly realising maybe she’d just put her foot in her mouth. 
“Yeah, maybe,” Paige answers noncommittally, trying to keep her voice steady. 
Much to her relief, the elevator dings open, saving her from having to say anything more. She wraps her arms tighter around Azzi, burying her face as far into the other girl’s neck as she can and closing her eyes, trying to lose herself in Azzi, instead of in the jail of her own mind.
She doesn’t look up from where she’s nestled into Azzi’s skin, when the rest of her teammates start towards their own separate rooms, telling Azzi how lovely it was to meet her. 
“Can you get off her back, so I can give her a hug?” Ice pinches Paige’s arm but the older girl just shrugs her off. 
“No. Go hug someone else.”
“Bro you’re so fucking annoying,” Ice groans and Azzi sends her an apologetic wink but it doesn’t go unnoticed that she doesn’t try to shake Paige off like she normally would. It heals something in Paige to know that Azzi doesn’t want to let go either. And she doesn’t understand why they’re doing this, why they’re fighting this, when neither of them want to. 
“I think your teammates might like me better than you,” Azzi teases when they finally get back to the room and Paige climbs off of her back. The blonde is too lost in her thoughts to come back with a smart quip. And of course her best friend notices it immediately, nudging her quietly, “P? You good?”
Paige blinks up at Azzi, and even before she says the word, she knows Azzi’s already read them in her eyes, “I don’t want you to go.”
“Paige,” Azzi sighs tiredly, “what happened to pretending tonight?”
“Fuck pretending,” Paige blames the alcohol for how loud her voice comes out, guilty only because it makes the girl in front of her flinch, “I don’t want just tonight. It’s no where near fucking enough. I want forever. With you.”
“That’s not- Paige- we live on different sides of the country.”
“For now, but we can make it work. It’s us,” Paige pleads desperately. 
Azzi scoffs, stepping away from Paige, “you say that like it a good thing.”
“What-”
“Us! We don’t- it’s not- being ‘us’ is not a good thing Paige. May us from before but us now? Us now is complicated and messy and hard and I just- I can’t do this Paige.”
“You can- we can- Azzi- just- think about it okay- sleep on it- you’ll see. You’ll see, I’m right.”
Azzi shakes her head, closing her eyes as a single teardrop leaks out, “you’re making this so fucking hard Paige.”
“I don’t want to- I’m sorry- I’m so sorry baby,” the term of endearment slips through Paige’s lips before she can catch it, “but I need you to think about it once please.”
She moves to cup Azzi’s cheeks, thumb caressing away the tears, “please.”
“Okay, okay,” Azzi nods, resting her forehead against Paige’s, “I’ll think about it.”
They’re quiet as they get changed for bed, thinking about the same thing. Co-existing together comes naturally to them after years of inhabiting each other’s space and the. there's no getting in each other’s way, even if they’re both dead silent. It’s awkward when they finally get into bed, both of them lying on their back, resolutely staring up at the ceiling. Paige is the first one to move, turning onto her side so she can face Azzi. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige thinks that so much has changed, but Azzi’s still that kind of beautiful, the same kind of beautiful Paige had thought of her as since the state championship. 
“What was your answer going to be,” she asks quietly. 
“To what?”
“To Nika’s question. Are you in love with someone right now?”
Azzi hesitates a little bit, before turning her own body to face Paige, “you know the answer Paige, you don’t need me to say it.”
Paige doesn’t prod, knowing they were too volatile for her to keep pushing. Instead she reaches over to intertwine their hands together. 
“Do you know what my answer would have been?”
“Yeah,” Azzi says softly, squeezing her hands, “yeah I do.”
Maybe there’s peace in knowing. Or maybe there’s only more pain. Paige doesn’t know if the truth sets her free, doesn’t know if she could ever even be set free from the shackles that bind her to Azzi, doesn’t think she even wants to be set free. But at least Azzi knows too. Maybe there’s peace in drowning together. 
***
Paige wakes up in a panic when she reaches over and finds the other side of the bed empty. She gets up with a jolt, eyes frantically searching for Azzi, until they finally land on the girl sitting on the couch next to the bed. 
“Fuck,” Paige’s voice is still wracked with sleep, “I thought you left.”
“That’s more your style,” Azzi says and Paige flinches at the reminder, “how’d you sleep?”
“Pretty good. How about you?”
“Pretty shit actually” Azzi admits, “I woke up every two seconds, scared you’d be gone.”
“Az-”
“You asked me to believe in you- to believe in us and I-” Azzi draws in a sharp breath and Paige knows she’s not going to like where this is going, “I want to- I really, really, wish I could. But I don’t. I can’t- I can’t be with you Paige- not when I’m scared you’re going to break my heart every second.”
“Azzi,” Paige scrambles across the bed, stopping when the girl in question holds her hands up. Everything in her feels like it’s on fire. There are no burn marks on her skin but she swears she’s been turned to ashes underneath. 
“And you deserve better than that too Paige. You deserve someone who- who’s not scared. Who can give you all of herself without- without holding back and I- I can’t do that.”
“You can- fuck- Azzi you can- please,” desperation leaks through every syllable as Paige fights what she knows is a losing battle. 
“Not right now. Too much has happened between us and we can’t- we can’t just ignore all of that and start something new- maybe someday- but not right now.”
Azzi stands up from her seat, hesitantly walking over to Paige’s side of the bed. She cups Paige’s face, watery dark brown eyes meeting crystal blue ones that are glistening with tears. 
“Azzi please,” Paige begs, feeling everything slip away before she’d even had a chance to fight for it. 
Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s forehead, holding them there for what feels like the briefest of seconds until she’s pulling away, “I’m sorry P.”
And then she’s gone and every part of Paige’s heart is gone with her. 
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buckyysdoll · 9 months
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— 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 —
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જ⁀➴ — • summary: off from work sick, you cancel your date — but that won’t stop spencer plans <3; • a/n: this scenario has been in my head for almost two years, and i finally wrote it !!; • cw: none, but themes of sickness (flu); • pairing: spencer reid x f!reader
MAIN MASTERLIST
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Thirty minutes after your phone call, your apartment doorbell rang out with a buzz — thankfully not so obnoxiously loud as the shrill, high notes of the one you’d once owned.
You groaned, debating what to do, and the headache at your temples only throbbed ever harder. You’d only just managed to get comfortable, and would be well damned if you had to get up.
If you left it, you thought, perhaps whoever was there would just then leave. For all that they knew, you might’ve been out, and why not? You’d just let them believe it. Right now just the thought of leaving your couch had you mourning the loss of its warmth, already missing the relative comfort of where you’d been laying for most of the day.
It was just your luck to be sick on the first day off that you’d had in five months; life in the BAU had its stressors enough and now this? The world sure had its humour.
It seemed to be flu, or something similar — and now in November, it was hardly unlikely. After three bouts of nausea, those flushes of both hot and cold, you were truly fatigued. Somehow though, neither one of those bothered you more than one fact in particular:
You’d had to cancel your date with fellow agent turned close friend, Spencer Reid.
Your blanket and tissues and trashy tv was now all that tonight had in store.
When you’d spoken to him on the phone, he’d hidden his disappointment well; it was an undercurrent beneath the much greater worry for you, for how sick you were feeling. But then, what really did you expect? This was Spencer — of course he’d been understanding. He’d hoped you’d feel better as soon as you could, even offered to do “anything that might help.”
But you’d firmly insisted that after such a long shift working a case, the very last thing he needed was sickness from you if your influenza spread.
A knocking sounded at the door, just three short raps. Polite, uniform. It was enough to pull you out from your thoughts and resign yourself to opening the goddamn thing.
You hobbled up to your feet. Even just standing, your head spun, prickled; you waited until you regained your balance. When at last you did, you mumbled a quick “I’m coming” before with great effort, trudging to the door.
Your progress was slow, the blanket that had covered your legs now tossed over your shoulders. It was draped on each side so that it almost drowned out your whole form, and that was how you answered the door.
Hair a mess, dark circles in moon crescents just under your eyes, most likely snot clearly plain on the tissue that you clutched to your face — and on the doorstep, Spencer.
Shock registered dimly, followed by an immediate warmth. Whoever you’d expected it hadn’t been him, and yet just the sight of him spiked up your pulse.
“Spence? What are you doing here?” Acting on instinct, you opened up the door wider. There he stood, still in his smart suit, fresh from work with that wind-tousled hair. His eyes were concerned, and you knew that look well, saw it etched on each well-loved part of his face.
Spencer’s gaze swept over you, by no means brazen — uncertain, unsure. “Well you’re sick, so we obviously can’t go out anymore. But I grabbed some of your favourites, and just thought we could stay in …”
His voice was matter of fact, just like always, no nuance and only slight nerves. You hadn’t even noticed the brown paper bag that he clutched to his chest, but did now.
Your favourites.
It was something so simple, so endlessly thoughtful that your heart leapt with something unnamed. This was only the second ever date that you’d had since meeting some few months ago; you’d both taken time, seemed to waste it, hoping that the other one would ask first. And he did.
But you weren’t quite ready to name the soft feeling that had your chest aching inside you, couldn’t quite speak around the lump in your throat that could only be love, or close enough to it.
Spencer must’ve taken your silence for no, and when he next spoke, was less sure. “I was hoping that maybe … I could be here, tonight? You need your rest, and I know that you cancelled, but I guess I just thought I could be here to help —”
He was rambling. Actually rambling. That sense of heartache only ricocheted higher. You watched as one hand went up, streaked back through his hair, and he realised that he’d over-spoke.
His eyes gladly landed anywhere but on you, and you’d never felt more devastated.
You reached for his arm, and steadied it where it had reached for his hair once again; you knew him so well, each and every nervous habit, and his tells were second nature to you by now. It was only at your touch that his eyes at last stilled on your face. And this time, they didn’t leave.
“Spence, I was just gonna say that I really don’t wanna make you sick, too.” Your heart rate was spiking with affection for this boy who had a blush rising soft on his cheeks. His smile was quiet, eyes warm, as though he hadn’t just moved you with the sweetness of the gesture he’d made.
He’d come to your door with snacks, medicines — everything you’d need to feel better — just so he could be here, could take care of you, while you were too sick to go on your date.
“I’d really rather be sick with you than alright with anyone else.” And oh god. The crimson shade to his cheeks after that had your stomach going wild in flips — the way that he’d spoken the words so quickly as though they’d been instinct, as though he’d meant to just think them.
You couldn’t stop staring at him.
In this moment, he wasn’t Doctor Reid — unassuming, modest owner of three phds. He wasn’t just Spencer, so sweet and kind underneath the sure genius and practical skill.
No. Right here, he was Spence — and you, the only one who gave him that name. He was the boy on your doorstep that over the months that you’d known him — you’d now come to love.
His smile grew and so did yours; those thoughts were so plain on your face. Your plans for the night had just got that much brighter than you’d thought just ten minutes before.
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the-guilty-writer · 11 months
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The Fake Doctor
Request from anon: Young autistic reader who’s Derek’s daughter and Derek needs Reid’s help with her 
Derek Morgan x daughter!reader
Summary: After babysitting you, Spencer isn't sure how to bring up to Derek that he thinks you're autistic.
A/N: This is very short and really the best I could come up with. I very rarely write young children readers, but I figured out a way to make this one work by making it more Derek and Spencer centric than reader centric.
CW: just lots of fluff
---
Derek looked down the extraordinary long list in front of him and sighed. He didn't normally write a list for the babysitter, but he was worried about Spencer’s child-watching capabilities.
Derek was, for the first time in what he felt was a long time, going out on a date. Of course, your normal sitter canceled last minute due to having the flu. He’d gotten the text that morning at work and was about to cancel his date as well when Reid had offered up his services. Derek knew Spencer was good with kids and you liked him, but your dad was a bit skeptical about if the young doctor really knew what he was getting himself into.
Did a babysitter with an eidetic memory even need a list?
Derek didn’t have time to decide if he should throw it out or not because the doorbell rang through the house. Even though you were distracted by your favorite TV show, you still covered your ears and made a face at the high-pitched sound.
He made a mental note to himself to change the bell to something more pleasant, and walked to the front door to let Spencer in. “Hey, Reid.” Derek let his colleague through the door. “Thanks again for doing this. I owe you one.”
“It’s no problem,” Spencer replied. The two men walked toward the kitchen. “I didn’t have any plans besides reading.” The doctor held a thick book under one arm.
“Well I wrote everything down,” Derek said, handing Reid the list. “But you know how to reach me if you have questions.” While Spencer read through the list, your dad made his way to you. “Hey, baby girl.”
“Hi daddy,” you replied. It made Derek smile - he’d heard from lots of parents that you’d probably switch to “dad” soon enough, but you were still stuck calling him “daddy” and he truly hoped that never went away. “Are you going out with your friend for dinner?”
Derek’s date had been on the calendar for over a week now to prepare you that he wouldn’t be home for bedtime tonight. The unpredictable schedule of his job made you anxious, so when he could let you know about a scheduled event, he put it on the calendar in the kitchen. It wasn’t a perfect fix, but it seemed to help take the edge off.
“Yep,” he kneeled down in front of you. “Dr. Reid is here.”
“The fake doctor,” you said. Derek couldn’t help but laugh and it was only made funnier by the expression on Spencer’s face.
“Yeah, he’s going to stay with you while I go out, like we talked about earlier. Okay?”
You nodded and threw your arms around your father’s shoulders. “I love you, daddy.”
Derek hugged you back tightly. “I love you too, baby girl.” He planted a gentle kiss on top of your head and you went back to watching your show, hugging your arms around your knees as if it replaced the absence of your dad’s presence.
“Good luck,” Spencer said to him, as he left the house.
“You too, kid,” Derek plastered a joking smile on his face to cover up his nerves. It wasn’t his date he was nervous about; he was far more worried about Spencer taking care of you.
---
Spencer sat in one of the armchairs in the living room, reading his book over again for the second time. The only reason it wasn’t the third time was because he wasn’t sure what to say to Derek when he got home. Of course, what Spencer had to say was in your best interest, but that didn’t make it seem any less like he had been profiling you.
Just as he was beginning to revise his opening sentence in his head, there was a click with the opening of the front door and light footsteps along the hardwood.
“Hey, pretty boy,” Derek said with a small but tired smile on his face.
“Hey,” Spencer tried his best to control the nervous pitch of his voice. “How was your date?”
“It was good, actually,” he said. “How was my baby girl?”
“She was good.” Spencer tried to look more casual as he walked closer, but he’d forgotten that your dad knew his tells better than he knew his own.
“Reid, what is it?” Morgan’s brow furrowed with concern. Spencer paused and opened his mouth, but paused before he could go further. “Spit it out.”
“I think she might be autistic.” Spencer searched Derek’s face for an adverse reaction - guilt, denial, anger. What he didn’t expect was for him to say, “Yeah. I know,” and go about putting his coat away like the doctor’s statement was nothing out of the ordinary.
“I’ve known for a couple months now,” Derek continued. “It’s part of why I was concerned about you watching her. She doesn’t do great with last minute changes. It’s also why she calls you ‘the fake doctor.’ I had to explain to her why we weren’t going to see you when we went to see the real doctor.”
“Medical doctor,” Spencer corrected. “And I’m not qualified to diagnose anything, but I can give you an opinion.”
Derek smirked. “Well, I know I already owe you, but I could use your help with special interest research.”
Spencer nodded happily. “I’m pretty filled in on what she already knows after tonight.” He thought about the way your face had lit up when you talked, how excited you had been when he gave you a new fun fact, the joy that radiated off you.
“I’m sure you are, pretty boy,” Derek smiled. “But I know she’d love to know more.” he paused. “And I would like to know more too - about how I can help her.”
“Of course,” Spencer replied. “She’s lucky to have you as a dad.”
“Thanks.” Derek’s voice switched from genuine appreciation to a teasing tone when he said, “We’re both lucky she has an uncle that’s a fake doctor.”
And this time, Spencer couldn’t help but laugh.
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