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awniie · 4 months

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BIG BABY W/CHOSO

ʚ content: fem!reader, reader takes care of sick choso, reader wishes boyfriends spends more time with her, fluff ⠂°⠄🕯

ʚ summary: your bf choso loves being your big baby when he’s sick (all the time) ˎˊ˗

ʚ note: i want choso to be my big baby ♡

You were sitting on the couch in the living room of your apartment. You’d been stationed there for hours, mindlessly scrolling on tiktok and instagram. You hadn’t done anything productive all day, not a great way to start off the new year but you’ll save that train of thought for another time. You didn’t want to be lazy alone, in fact you were supposed to spend the day rotting with your boyfriend, Choso Kamo.

Only a couple more minutes you thought, checking your messages app, waiting a text that would said “I’m here!”. You were supposed to be binge-watching the new season you and your boyfriend’s favorite historical drama at 5:30. Season 4 had just released and you were dying to start it now, but choso made you promise that you wouldn’t start it until he got back from visiting his brother Yuji who had just gotten a cold. “Please baby,” he’d beg you, tying the laces of his black prada boots. “I promise I’ll be back soon and we’ll watch it together.” You gave him an overdramatic sigh and pouted, to which he responded with a peck on your temple. You turned your head up go meet his lips to yours, drawing him into a deeper, more desperate kiss.

"Just be patient, okay? T's only for a couple hours." Choso whined as he pulled himself away from your lips. You couldn’t help but smile a little, you loved his whines, but right now what you’d love even more is for him to just postpone his 3rd visit to Yuji’s this week. You understand he was sick, but Choso was always at his brothers place. “I already lost my brothers before, I’m not trying to lose anymore.” He’d tell you matter-of-factly whenever you had something to say about his visits. You’d understand, to a degree, but sometimes he would come back home all sleepy-eyed and exhausted and you knew he probably spent a majority of his time fretting over his more-then-capable younger brother. You’d just wish he’d rely on you more instead of always trying so responsible.

But that was hours ago, and your boyfriend swore he’d been here in only a couple minutes. You stretch and pull up your black spandex shorts you’d been wearing along with a pink cropped hoodie from garage. ‘This boy better hurry up, or else I’m just gonna start it without him.’ You’d thought, fingers reaching towards the remote that had been waiting allllll day to be picked up.

Suddenly, and thank the Lord, you heard keys jingling from the outside door of your apartment, and heard the familiar sounds of the turning knob. You practically leaped out off the chair you’d been lounging on, and ran over to give your boyfriend the biggest, tightest hug. (Mostly for making you wait all day.) But when you wrapped your arms around choso’s muscular frame, You could feel how warm his body was, how shaky he was and the distinct smell of sickness.

“Cho’ are you okay-?” You questioned, slowly peeling your chest away from his so you could get a better look at him. His hair was coming undone, the spiky buns now loosened and practically gone. His eyes were somehow more heavy then usually and you noticed he was shivering a little.

“Mhm, I’m f-fine baby, jus’ a little tired. Can we go lay down on the couch, please?” Choso answered. He tried to keep his voice steady but it was obvious how pitiful he appeared. You led him down unto the couch, sitting him upright and draping him with the blanket. You placed your hand on your forehead, and almost gasped at how hot he was.

“Cho, you’re burning up, did Yuji get you sick?” You asked, while standing up from the couch and going to the kitchen. Ibuprofen wouldn’t heal any sickness, but I’d get rid of his fever at least. Choso started to follow after you, sniffling and breathing heavy. “No no, no. You stay there. You clearly sick, lemme grab you some medicine.” He indignantly continued after you. “‘M not sick. I’m just a little chilly, that’s all.”

“Yeah, okay whatever you said.” You retorted, grabbing the pill bottle from your white cabinet and shaking out two umber colored pills. You moved away from the counter, noticing your boyfriend seemingly disappeared. “Cho’ where’d you go-“ you cut off as you foot hit something large and definitely out of place. Your 5’9 boyfriend was on the floor curled up into a little ball, shivering and sniffling under the blanket. “Oh my goodness Cho- Okay let’s bring you back to the couch.” You instructed, awkwardly lifting him off the hardwood floors and back unto the couch. Now he was back on the upholstery, but he still needed his medicine. “Okay, Choso. I’m gonna need you to open your mouth so you can take this medicine, okay? It’s gonna make you feel a whole lot better.” You coaxed, brushing the escaped tendrils of hair from his heated face.

“Nooo, ‘M good. Don’t worry about me.” he mumbled, still a shaky, pathetic mess. You groaned at his stubbornness. “Cmon Cho. You’re obviously sick so can you please just take it.” In your hand were the pills and a glass of water that he clearly didn’t wanna take. He frowned and closed his eyes, refusing to take the medication. He was acting like a spoiled toddler, expression pouty and fake. “Choso. Stop acting like a baby and just take it, it’s just a pill!” You urged, not noticing the edge in your voice, but he did. He took that medicine so fast, gulping the water to chase it down. You smiled, even though were shocked at his sudden change in disposition. Deciding to give your boyfriend a reward, you gift him a smooch on the nose, brushing more hair out of his face. “Good boy, see that wasn’t so bad. Now you’ll feel so much better.” You promised. You sat yourself right next to him, allowing him to rest his head on your shoulders.

For the rest of the week, you were both surprisingly happy. Your boyfriend was finally getting some well needed rest, and you got to watch the new episodes of your show together (he didn’t have much a choice with you padding after him everywhere). Choso never knew how much he’d enjoy being the not responsible one for a change. You were making sure he ate, checking up on him, kissing and loving on him. He was hungry for the praises that seemed to come out of you with much more proficiently now that he was succumbed to illness. You followed him constantly, and he secretly loved the fussing and attention. He’d definitely had to catch a cold more often. Of course, he was still protective older brother to Yuji, but your boyfriend Choso loved being your big baby. ♡

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imagination-is-key-in-my-world · 3 years

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Awkward Encounters

Authors Note: At first, I was going to write this as the reader being in Tessa’s perspective but then I thought that it would be too much of a copyright. There may be some similarities to the story but I have written Tessa in as a separate party. Tessa is still with Noah in this. Also, I will be referencing parts from both the movie and the novels. In this particular fanfiction Tristan is a girl, like the movie.

Summary: You are a freshman at college and your life there started pretty normally. Your best friend is Tristan who is dating Steph who is roommates with Tessa. That was until you went to a party with Tristan and the girls. You had no idea that the mysterious British boy was going to intervene when you come face to face with the Bitch that is Molly.

Warning: Swearing

Pairing: Reader x Hardin Scott

Word Count: 4,423

“Come on Tristan, I told you.” I moan. “I can’t go to another party; I am still recovering from the last one.” I cling to a cold compress, trying my best to shield my eyes from the light that is seeping in through the open door.

Tristan threw a pack of Ibuprofen onto my lap that she snooped around in my bag for. “If it’s that bad, take one of these and get your butt out of that bed.” I groan at the impact from the small box just for the effect. “Don’t be a baby and get up.”

I roll over on the bed to face the wall. “Can’t you just go with Steph?”

“No!” She abruptly spat out. “I want to go with you. Steph is bringing Tessa and I don’t want to show up alone.”

“But you will be with her when you’re there. What’s the point in me getting out of this lovely cocoon that I have made, just to walk you to the party?”

Tristan had her head bent over, pulling her hair into a high ponytail on the top of her head. “You know that what you just said was the whole point.” She sighed. “Everyone is going to stare at me when I walk in there all on my lonesome.”

I eyed the short revealing dress that she was pulling onto her petite and envious body. “You know everyone will be staring at you no matter what if you wear that.” I laugh. “Those legs are going to be the headliner for that party.”

Tristan winked at me and continued adding more accessories to her ever-growing ensemble. “That my dear naïve British friend is the goal of this outfit.” She dropped to her knees faster than I could pry open the antibiotic wrapper. Gripping onto my hand she pulled me away from my mission to rid the world of the swirling furniture before my very eyes. “Y/N, if you do not go, I will literally never talk to you ever again.”

I raised my eyebrow at the sight before me. “Is that a promise.” I bravely say.

“Y/N! Please!”

“Fine alright. Give me five minutes.” I surrender, using every ounce of strength that I had left to lift myself from my comfy nest. “But you owe me, big time.” Tristan’s arms were around my neck faster than I could respond. Her soft lips that I am sure Steph adores, pressed against my forehead.

“I love you so much Miss Y/L/N!” She squealed.

I let out a stiff laugh as I saunter off to the bathroom to sort whatever state I currently appeared to be in.

***

“You know, when you said that this was going to be a cool night for us both? When did I factor into the equation?” I scoff, lifting the red solo cup to my lips. The bitter taste made my stomach curl, but what was worse was not drinking around all these over-the-top drunk people.

Tristan was straddling Steph on the sofa by the side of me. These two did not understand the true definition of PDA and why some people may find it uncomfortable. Including myself.

I inch further down the sofa that was unsurprisingly very sticky. If I wasn’t feeling queasy when I turned up, I certainly felt it now. I try to distract myself from the fact that I had to peel my legs from the leather material just to cross them. The sound was very unflattering.

“Why are you in my seat?” I roll my eyes the minute I recognised the irritating voice that filled me with angst and hatred from across the room. Molly Samuels. Her whole presence just irritates me, and it appears that I am not the only one with this response. I gaze over to my left to see Tessa shaking her head at the general distaste she had for the girl. I lift my cup up to Tessa who shyly mimics. ‘To stuck up bitches, ay?’ I say to myself, quietly so that she couldn’t hear.

Molly pushed Zed Evans and his girlfriend for the night out of her shitty throne causing his date to land hard on her arse. I am sure it wasn’t the first time that Molly has done this to declare her ‘power’ to the whole room. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” The blonde cried as Zed attempted to pick her up from the floor which was soaked in alcohol.

“Does this brat literally think she can talk to me right now?” Molly scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Turning to her so-called friends for approval of her comment and actions.

“What did you just call me?” The poor young girl shook off Zed’s protective arm and stepped right in front of Molly’s nose. Probably not the best move, but I have always found that Molly needed taking down a peg or two.

“You heard me, loud and clear” She popped her tongue on the letter ‘l’ in loud. “A little slutty brat who thinks for a second that Zed will call her back after he fucks her tonight.” Molly’s teeth were snarling almost like a wild animal.

“At least I’m not a bitchy whore who thinks that everyone here is her friend.” There were a couple ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs’ almost as if we were at a panto and not a college party after Zed’s girl’s response.

The second Molly let the words register her hand was leaving that poor girl’s cheek, along with a bright red handprint in its place.

“What the fuck, Molly!” I heard the words clear as day, but I never in a million years imagined that they would come from my mouth. But there I was, standing right in front of Molly, shielding the young girl from another blast to the face.

I could hear people whispering behind my back. ‘What is she doing?’ ‘Is she stupid or something?’ ‘Does she not know what Molly is like?’ Despite being close friends with Tristan, I never would have expected her to step up to defend me, especially when Molly Samuels was involved. She stayed on Steph’s lap; eyes bugged open. Utterly frozen.

“Wow Y/N? Get involved in other people’s business much? Just because your life is too sad, you feel like you can insert yourself into other people’s.” I roll my eyes at her pathetic attempt to rattle me. “You’re just a sad little virgin that no body wants around. Tristan only invited you tonight for her own benefit. Just look around, you don’t fit in here.”

I stay silent. I may have only spoken up once tonight, but that was enough for me. Frat parties are my least favourite place to be. The only reason I came here tonight was for Tristan. I should have left the minute she started making out with the red-haired beauty.

“Cat got your tongue now, bitch.” Molly’s face was inches from mine and I choked on the strong aroma of alcohol on her breath. “Oh, wait I forgot, the girl doesn’t own a backbone.” There were a few stifled laughs here and there. Zed stayed silent, as did Tristan and Steph. None of them making the effort to stand up for me. “Let me guess. Tristan batted her big eyes at you and begged you to come tonight, didn’t she? Then ditched you the moment someone prettier came into the picture.”

I gulp back the bile that I knew had risen to the back of my throat. “Why don’t you go back to your dorm. Oh, better yet, get on a fucking plane and fly back to shitty England. We could only get lucky and hope the thing crashes with you inside it.”

“That’s enough Molly!” The voice behind me held a British twang similar to my own. A voice I had only heard about but never actually seen. The bad boy, Hardin Scott.

Hardin Scott was attractive. Since I got here, I knew he was the talk of the college. Everybody knew who he was and that he wasn’t good news. His white shirt displayed his various tattoos clearly through the thin and tight fabric. His black hair was pushed back to show his piercing eyes and anger set eyebrows. His eyes never left Molly who was stood behind me.

“Oh, Hardin you know I am only messing with the virgin.” She forces a small laugh. “It’s not like I can control the planes is it.” Her head tilts to the side as her gaze locks onto mine, only to intimidate. “I mean I wish I could.” She muttered so that only the people stood around her could hear.

“Do you ever know when to stop!” Hardin barks, not acknowledging me physically. “Do you ever think that you’re the one that people don’t want around?” He questions, moving slowly across the room. I hadn’t noticed but the volume of the once booming music had been lowered to a slight hum in the background.

Hardin was now stood right beside me glaring down at Molly who mimicked his stance. “Ding Ding. Come on guys let’s just drop it!” Nate calls over when he noticed their glares on each other were far from breaking.

Molly was the first to move. “You’re right Nate.” She coos. “Let’s play a game.” She scans the room of her so-called posy who all appeared to be done with her shit for the night. “It’s Friday night. We need to play a game. I will even let the little virgin here play along, too.”

I am very aware that all the eyes were now back on me.

This wasn’t something that I wanted to be a part of. It took me what felt like an eternity to move my feet across the room to where Tristan was sitting. “I am going to head back to the dorms.” I declare quietly to her, but I can tell that they are all listening.

“No please stay, it won’t be the same if you go.” Tristan reaches for my hand which I pull away.

I don’t know why I am letting Molly’s words sink in so much. Everybody who knows her knows that she is full of herself and couldn’t give a shit who she hurts.

“No, it’s late.” It was only nine. “And I have assignments that are due.” I lie, they are all finished. “I’ll see you back at the dorm.”

I start towards the door but I can hear Tristan calling after me to stay.

As I reach the front door to the frat house, I hear Molly’s voice loud and clear. “So, Hardin truth or dare?”

***

The walk back to the dorms was anything but peaceful. The cars were loud and honking at me as they passed. Classy.

I reach for my phone in my bag. I could do with tuning out the world for this half hour walk back in the dark. But my fingers only find a vibrant red lipstick that I couldn’t pull off in a million years.

I stop dead in my tracks. This was Steph’s bag; I grabbed the wrong one during my never-ending embarrassment.

I couldn’t go back, but I couldn’t go further either. Where was I supposed to go, Steph’s key wasn’t in here so it’s not like I could sleep in her room for the night. No cash, key or phone meant that I had no other choice. I had to suck it up and go back.

“Fuuuck!” I shout, not caring that I startled an elderly woman who was placing a rubbish bag in her bin just outside her front door.

“Not a very ladylike thing to say.” I hear a mocking chuckle behind me causing me to jump out of my skin.

When I turn around, I am greeted by the tall British bad boy covered in ink standing about 6 foot in front of me.

His head cocks to the side when I don’t answer him. “You don’t say much, do you?” My eyes scan over his attire, black ripped jeans, white top, and a jet-black leather jacket. “But you do stare a lot, don’t you?” That British chuckle makes it’s second appearance tonight.

“What do you want?” I blurt out, shaking my head at the fact that I was indeed caught staring at the boy.

He steps a little closer to me, closing the gap between us ever so slowly. I watch in amazement at how sexy he makes walking look. “You left this at the party.” I hadn’t realised that he had extended his hand to reveal a clutch bag. My clutch bag.

“Oh!” I speak. “Thanks.” I take the bag from him and prepare myself for the walk back.

“Don’t take any notice of Molly. She is a bitch.”

“Yep.” I chip in, turning to walk back towards the college dorm rooms.

I only get a few steps ahead when I feel a cold sensation wrap around my bare arm. Why the fuck didn’t I bring a coat? I gaze down at the hand that is pressed to my skin. “Where are you going?” He softly says. His tone and action were not at all forceful but something about him made me shiver with fear deep inside the pit of my stomach. I was warned about Hardin Scott. Tristan said that he wasn’t exactly good news around her group of friends. Acting with his fists before connecting his words, that’s what she said at least.

“H-Home.” I stutter, half from the interaction, half from how fucking cold it was. I straighten up. “I am going home.”

“Alone?” He jumps in straight away.

I don’t answer. I just look back at his hand around my arm.

“S-sorry.” He stutters, removing his hand from my arm. “It’s just it’s a long way back to the dorms and it is late.”

I shrug my shoulders at his declaration. “I know.” I simply say and start to walk again but I am blocked by the gorgeous boy standing in front of me. “Oh fuck, you’re not going to kill me, are you?”

“No of course not!” He blurts.

“Good! Now could you” I gesture to the fact that he is stood directly in my path. He catches on to my hint and steps aside.

“You’re not going to walk there alone, are you?” His voice sounding desperate.

I spin and mockingly look around for people, lifting my hand to shield my eyes as I continue my search. This provokes a choked sigh from Hardin. Once I am satisfied with my ‘search’ I say “yep” and continue to walk.

“But it is late.” He chimes in again walking backwards trying desperately not to break my gaze as I try desperately to avoid his. “And you’re alone.”

“Yes, we have established this.” I mock, glaring at the stoned pavement or sidewalk ahead of me.

Hardin reaches both hands out in front of himself creating a wall which stops me from taking another step. “What is your problem?”

I take a step back, alarmed at his outburst. “My problem. You’re the one who has continuously blocked my way for the past ten minutes.” I bark. I try to move around him but he doesn’t budge, copying my actions to stay ahead of me.

“I am trying to offer my services.” Hardin exclaimed but then scowled at his choice of words. I too have a hard time accepting the word ‘services.’ Just as I go to argue he opens his mouth. “Fuck that’s not what I meant to say.” His hands instantly dart to push his hair back out of his face. A nervous tick I assume. What did he have to be nervous about? He is the one stalking after college girls at half 9 at night.

“Look can we start over?” He offers shoving his hands into his jacket. My arms promptly raise to cover my bare arms where goosebumps have started to form. Why didn’t I bring a jacket? “Could I possibly walk you back to the dorms?” His eyes dropped to the ground to stare at a pebble that he toyed with his shoe. Was he anxious?

“Why?” I question fairly quickly.

“I just want to make sure that you get back safe!” His tone wasn’t very friendly. I cock my head to one side. “Sorry, that came out bad.” His tone softening. “I just didn’t like the way that Molly spoke to you earlier and I also hate the fact that you would be walking back in this sketchy neighbourhood alone.”

“Fine.”

***

We walk all the way back to the dorms in silence. Hardin looked uncomfortable the entire time as if he were being forced to be here. I sure as hell did not make him.

I pull the key from my bag and slot it into the lock on the door. Pushing the door slightly open I stand with my arms still draped across my shivering body in the doorway. “Well, thanks for walking me back and bringing me my bag.”

Hardin didn’t budge. His eyes were locked on my body, traveling from my legs to my face. His face turned a shade of white when his eyes caught up to mine. “Fuck!” He announced.

“What!” I jump at his sudden change in demeaner.

“Your lips.” He gestures to my trembling lips that haven’t stopped shaking since I stepped outside of the frat house. “They are fucking blue!” Panic surges over him as he rakes his hands through his hair. “Why didn’t you say you were cold?” He started passing back and fourth in front of me.

“There wasn’t much you could do.” I counter. “My own stupid fault for not bringing a coat.”

I walk inside the room and grab a jacket and throw it on over my shaking body. Hardin enters after me and grabs my hand carefully. “Fuck lot that will do.” He picks up a towel and drags me back down the hallway.

I try to pull my arm back but it is no use. “Where the hell are you taking me?” I say a little too loud. Silently cursing myself if I may have woken up any of the other students living down this dorm.

“The showers now come on.” He tugs a little harder as his feet guide me towards the shared bathroom just a few floors down from my own.

As we reach the bathroom, Hardin throws the towel over the railing and reaches in to turn on the water. I couldn’t help but watch his every move. “Get in!” He cries. Gesturing to the box that was filling with tempting hot steam.

I hesitate. “Y/N, get in the fucking shower.” I jump, not at his tone. But at the fact that he used my name. How did he even know it? Oh right, he was at the party when Molly was insulting me. “If you don’t start undressing now, I will have to start doing it for you.”

I raise an eyebrow but decline his offer, stepping into the box and pulling the curtain across to shield my naked body.

***

Hardin was right, I needed that shower. I hadn’t realised how cold I had gotten from that walk home. I stood in that shower for what felt like half the evening.

I shut off the water and begin to pull the curtain slightly across so that I could reach for the towel that Hardin had placed on the rail when Hardin’s hand slips through holding the towel between his fingers.

“Thanks.” I mutter, draping it around my soaking body.

I step out to find that Hardin’s hair has dropped and started to stick to his forehead in places from the steam. His eyes dart up and down my body, quietly.

I am the first one to break the silence as we stand there in the shared bathroom. “So, I should um, probably get back to my room.”

I watch as Hardin lets my words break him from his still stance. “Yeah, um, after you.” He holds his arm out and follows me out of the bathroom. Something has shifted in Hardin. Tonight, I have seen him; angry, intimidating, shy, solemness and lost for words. It was a lot to take in during a short period of time.

I open the dorm door and step inside. When I hear the door shut, I jump and almost drop the towel. “Shit, sorry I didn’t mean for the door to shut so loudly.” He curses under his breath.

“It’s okay.” I mutter. I cling to the towel as I stare back at Hardin who hasn’t moved or made any effort to leave.

“Y/N?” Hardin’s voice softer than ever tonight, bringing my eyes to meet his. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What do you mean?” My words coming out slowly. His head dropped to face the floor. Was he trying to count the flecks of glitter on the carpet from Tristan’s body butter or something?

“Why didn’t you say that you were cold?” I roll my eyes, this again. Crossing my arms over my stomach.

“Like I said, there wasn’t anything you could have-”

“I could have given you my jacket.” He interjects. Taking a step closer to me. His body was merely a foot away from mine.

“But then you would have been the one with the blue lips.” I counter. Tilting my head to the side in a modest challenging manner.

This stirred something within Hardin, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I know that he isn’t used to a woman not agreeing with every word that comes out of his mouth.

I suddenly shake my head as I feel a slight chill spread up my back. I am still in my towel and now I am very much aware of that. Quickly I turn away from his locked-on gaze.

“Can I have some privacy please.” I mumble, not able to turn around to face him. “I need to, uh, get changed.” I add.

Hardin lets out a small grunt but eventually I do hear the click of my dorm-room door close. I don’t know why but I feel a shed of disappointment at the fact that he listened and actually left.

It takes my hands what feels like hours to release the tight grip that I held on to the towel. Allowing it to fall onto the floor.

“You know what-” I hear the click of the door and his voice fill my ears. I jump from my spot in the middle of the room. He doesn’t finish the sentence, instead Hardin slams the door behind him. “Fuck!” His eyes firm but glued on my body.

I quickly try to grab the towel up off the floor, but it is no use. Hardin instantly placed his foot over the soggy material. “Don’t.” He lets that one word fall from his lips as he slowly continues to decrease the distance between us.

“Hardin!” I shout. “Give-” I can’t finish my argument as I find his finger is placed over the top of my lips.

Hardin doesn’t speak, he just shakes his head. His soft hand moves from my lips and trails off to my cheek, holding me in place. My eyes locked onto his own, frozen in place. I watch as his eyes bounce from my own to my lips, seeking permission. His other hand snaked its way around and laid itself on the small of my back, pulling my naked body closer to his.

I was completely thrown off by the audacity of my body responding to his touch, bringing me to him. Everything happened in slow motion from the second we were back in my room. I knew that Hardin was trouble, everybody did. But no one actually prepares you for a moment like this. Where you are stood in front of a gorgeous guy whose whole attention you own. Did I say he was gorgeous?

I shake my head breaking the eye contact trance I was in. “Har-”

“You’re so beautiful.” He interrupts, breaking right through the barrier I was desperately trying to build. Correction, he shattered the wall to pieces and I find myself pushing my lips aggressively against his, hungry for the contact.

It takes him a second to return the haste in my actions within his own. Moving his lips to mimic the speed that I had set for him. It took no time at all for that jacket that he kept holding over me for not taking since we got back to the room to be thrown onto the floor, revealing the crisp white T-shirt underneath.

His hand wandered lower to lay slightly above my bare arse. While my hands slithered up underneath his shirt. Desperate to feel the skin underneath and to trace the ink that it held. The hand that rested on my cheek now held tightly to the back of my neck making it impossible to break the kiss, not that I wanted to.

I could stay like this forever, kissing Hardin has awoken something inside me that I didn’t even know existed. This overwhelming hunger for his contact. I tug a little on the hair on the back of his head which in response summoned a deep growl from Hardin that I didn’t think I was prepared to hear. Any sense of doubt that we should stop kissing left my mind the second I heard that sound.

“Y/N? You would not believe what you missed after-” Tristan stood in the open doorway, her mouth held open just as wide.

Fuck. I jump back from Hardin and scramble for the towel, concealing my naked form from my roommate. I look over to Hardin who didn’t look at all affected by the events in the last ten seconds.

“I can tell your busy so I will just, yeah.” Tristan steps back and shuts the door behind her.

I run into the closet and quickly throw on a set of underwear and a long-oversized shirt that came down to lie just beneath my arse. “I think it’s about time I start locking that door.” I joke as I step through the closet door.

My eyes roam the room for the handsome boy I was just making out with only to be greeted with an empty room. My shoulders fall, “I guess that’s goodbye.” I mumble, trying my best to hold myself together. Locking the door before falling onto my bed.

Part 2?

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boldlyanxious · 3 years

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A Year of Glitter

Part 6- teen rated

Glitter series

Masterlist

Marinette had not been expecting a knock at her window. It was late and she should already be in bed but she had kept herself up playing the newest version of Ultimate Mecha Strike. Luckily she didn’t have to work tomorrow. She did have some errands to run and at this rate if she didn’t finish up soon she would have to struggle to get them done during the open hours if she were to get any sleep. She shuffled over to the window with a bit of a smile. She had a very good idea who was there. She only wished she was wearing something cuter than her ratty old tee and leggings. Her hair was probably a disaster too.

When she opened the window it was very clear that Red Hood would not care about her appearance but she was very worried about his. He struggled to get through the window being careful not to bump what she suspected were many injuries. Last time he climbed through the window she had been impressed with the ease with which he slid his large frame through. Now he struggled to get through the opening and he seemed to be in pain no matter which way he moved. She looked over at her couch. It was perfect for her. It fit in the space and had been a good price. She could fit on it laying down if she curled her legs up. He would not fit on it; she instead made the quick decision to get him into her bed.

She was very happy she had not gone for the twin bed. It would have been fine for her, she was not very big but that size frame would have broken under the weight of his larger frame. He was barely helping her remove his armor. She was worried about how injured he might be if he couldn’t even remove it. She found one spot on his arm that had been slashed through the armor and would possibly need stitches. She finished removing the armor from his chest and moved down to removing the armor from his legs when he finally moved to remove his helmet. He smirked at her as she looked up at him.

“If I had known a little cut was all it took to have you push me into your bedroom and undress me, I would have done it sooner,” he said.

Marinette’s face burned. She shoved him into the bed harder than was necessary or was probably wise, considering his injuries. But he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her down with him. He groaned loudly when she landed right on top of his chest. She tried to move off him but his other arm went to her hip and held her there. She had definitely imagined herself straddling him on her bed as she was now, but in her scenario he hadn’t been injured and bleeding in her bed.

“I’m hurting you worse. You are going to have to let me go so I can help you,” she said.

“I think a kiss will make it all better.”

“You are bleeding and probably need stitches. Kissing won’t help with that and you clearly have other injuries that will need to be treated.”

“Trying to get me out of the rest of my clothes, I see. I’ll let you look at them if you try my way too. Kiss it all better.”

She could tell it was still hurting him when he pulled her arms so she was against his chest but she moved closer and kissed him anyway. He used one hand to wrap around the back of her thigh and hold her close and with his other arm he lifted himself up on his elbow to meet her. She pushed herself to him but she tried to keep her weight off since she didn’t know where he was hurt under his clothes. He pushed her closer with the hand on her thigh so she slid up, pulling herself to him by his shoulders. She held his face in her hands and returned his kiss. After a moment he shifted to get off his elbow so he could wrap his other arm around her. She could feel his lips make a wince as he went flat on his back and she shifted on top of him again.

She tried to move off him again but he turned to the side so he was on his arm that wasn’t still bleeding. She couldn’t get herself to care enough about his injuries while he was so focused on kissing so she moved into a better position and returned her focus to his kisses. She loved the feel of being against his side without the armor. She gasped as he slid his hand up her back and rested his thumb just under her breast. She forgot all about the possibility of hurting him when his thumb moved back and forth. She jumped a little at the touch and that was the final movement to get him to groan and suck in a breath.

“Oh, I hurt you,” she said, jumping up. “You were already hurt and I made it worse.”

“It was my idea to test if kissing would make everything better. I did forget about how much I was hurting for most of the time.”

“I never should have gone along with it. I’ll go get my first aid kit.”

She returned quickly and nearly dropped the kit when she saw him. He was still wearing his very flattering jeans, but he had removed his shirt. She would like to pretend the shock was from the bruising down his back and across his chest to the hip on one side but it was definitely not what had rendered her speechless. He seemed to know that as he smirked at her and walked right up to her.

“To get a proper test of my suggested healing method you will have to apply the kisses directly to the affected area. Are you up for it?”

“I think your arm needs stitches. I’ve only done them once. Do you have someone who can do it for you if I bandage it?”

“I probably do, if it isn’t something you are comfortable with. Are you going to help me with the bruises?”

“What if you have broken ribs? You just want me to kiss you all over.”

“I’m almost certain I have at least one cracked rib but it isn’t so bad.” He stepped right up to her again and whispered huskily. “I absolutely want you to kiss me all over. I think it would help me feel better.”

“Let’s take care of that cut first. Do you want anything for the pain? I have ibuprofen.”

“That is probably for the best. I have a feeling you are about to hurt me.”

“I will have to clean it pretty good, but I will kiss it and make it all better.”

“With a promise like that I can handle anything.”

He leaned over to kiss her one more time before turning so she could clean and bandage his cut. Marinette knew it was probably hurting him but he didn’t make a sound. He just watched her carefully cleaning it. He held still except for his hand that he reached over to place on her leg. He just left it sitting there but would move his hand across her knee periodically. She didn’t know if he was just enjoying touching her or if he would do that when the pain was sharp. She closed it with butterfly clips and then covered it with a bandage. When it was covered she leaned down to his arm and kissed it carefully.

He moved his hand to her hair and pushed it away from her face. After the third time she kissed along the laceration he pulled her to him and gave her a heated kiss. She returned the kiss enthusiastically but pulled away quickly. She had him hold her makeshift cold packs made from various frozen foods that wouldn't be too harmed from melting a bit, to his bruising on the side as she turned him around to reach his back. She cleaned the skin first to make sure there were no abrasions but then she started at the top by his shoulders and kissed her way down his back. Almost the entire thing was bruised. It was very dark in some places and she hated to think about what had happened to cause it. When she got to the bottom she slowly folded the top of his pants down slowly so she could kiss the very bottom of the bruise. She was delighted at how he sucked in his breath when she did it. She was fairly certain that she was the cause and not the pain.

They adjusted the ice packs to his back and he laid on them and a pillow so she could get started on the front. Red Hood held her still this time for several minutes to kiss her before letting her get along with her healing kisses. He groaned when he released her and Marinette had to catch her breath before she continued. She took a moment to run her hands down his bare chest. The man had to have been forced into a life of crime because every bit of him she could see was absolutely criminal.

She did the same with his chest, cleaning and checking for any broken skin. There were a couple small cuts on his neck that she didn’t bother with bandages but she kissed very thoroughly moving across to his shoulder and his chest. She moved with her hands and mouth down his whole chest and to his side. He was getting restless. She didn’t think he was acting like he was ticklish, more like he was trying to stop himself from stopping her and taking charge. She didn’t know which way she preferred but she was enjoying taking her time. Being still was what he needed to heal so it was for the best.

He looked as disappointed as she felt when she finished. She collected the bags of frozen foods and moved them to the fridge. She would have to find a way to use them pretty quickly. She turned back and he was right behind her. He pushed her against the fridge and had his turn to take charge. Marinette clung to him trying to only hold the places she knew weren't bruised. They were both breathless when he pulled away. They spent a moment just standing there against each other before he shifted.

She knew that signaled he would be leaving now. She wanted to ask him to stay but it was probably a bad idea. Even if he just slept here it opened a whole new level to their interactions that she was not ready for. The kisses were nice. But at the end of the day even amazing, passionate kisses were just kisses. She wasn’t ready for more and he wasn’t pushing. They didn’t even know each other’s names. The one thing she knew about him for sure was that he was a crime lord. She wasn’t one to judge, but she wasn’t really sure if she could see a future there. Even any sort of relationship without a future could be complicated.

She helped him get his armor back on and he kissed her soundly before he put his helmet back on. She could no longer see his eyes when he looked back at her through the window but she knew he was looking in hers. She also knew she was fooling herself by even thinking that they didn’t have a relationship. Even with no names and no strings there was every possibility of this being complicated.

Taglist

#jasonette #maribat #now kiss #red hood x marinette #boldlyanxious

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mxtantrights · 3 years

Text

past lives | epilogue

a/n: time to look forward. and back. this doesn’t feature a big time jump. I’m gonna make an ending so cheesy... I think I’ve left this story pretty open so that you can insert whatever you want / envision for yourself. Once again thank you all who kept up and read or who’s gonna binge read once this comes out! Love ya <3

You opened your front door and there they all were. Most importantly Alfred. You had to show the man you could cook and fend for yourself if need be. Even though others couldn’t say the same.

“Great you’re all here. Come in, I’ve got the table set up and everything.” you said.

They walk in one-by-one into your home. You were up last night tossing and turning because it really wasn’t much. They didn’t all live in the manor currently but they all had lived there previously.

You eyed Damian specifically, to see his reaction to your place. He hadn’t been inside of it yet. Only ever on the fire escape and even that needed some work. You watched as took one swift look around and nodded at you.

“It’s quaint.” he said.

“Did you just call me cheap or something?” you said.

“It was a compliment.”

“You hesitated.”

You wince as Alfred wrapped up your lower stomach. It was to help the swelling he said. You were sitting up on the bed in the guest bedroom.

“May I ask what caused such bruising.” he asks.

You look over at Bruce who’s out of his nighttime suit and is watching from across the room.

“A really big box.”

You see Tim leaning against the door archway, hands behind his back. Bruce was Batman and Damian was Robin. That meant the Tim shaped Red Robin was Tim. He steps further into the room and reveals his hands.

He hands you two pills, “for the pain.”

You take them out of his hands and put them into your mouth. Then he hands you an opened water bottle. You take that and gulp down the pills, you have to tilt you head back a bit.

When you tilt it back forward you feel the hammering of the punches again. It makes you wince. Alfred had already did the best he could with your face. No stitches thankfully. But just bandages and ointments.

“So how long have you known I was his child?” you ask Tim.

He shrugs his shoulders, “After the gala before the lunch interview”

“You mean the set up to get my DNA.”

He winces when you say that.

“Tomatoe, tomato.”

Alfred lets you know that he’s done wrapping you and that you should lay down and try to get some rest. Which you don't argue with, you get the feeling that you don’t really argue with a man like him. He helps you pull your shirt down.

So you lean back slowly into the bed. You try to hold back the sounds of pain but one slips past your lips. This makes Tim and Bruce stand over your bed.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna die from a couple beatings from Ra’s.” You say plainly.

And it hurts Bruce. Damian had told him that you were in the league years before. But he could tell the harsh treatment you suffered there stayed with you. You were able to take so many hits from Ra’s it was something he never wanted to witness in his life.

“Any normal person would.” Tim says.

Bruce looks over at him.

“Well after I came out the pit things changed.” You answer.

They both look at you then. You figured Damian told at least Bruce that you were brought back to life by the pit. Maybe he was leaving that to you to discuss.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning. Get some-” Bruce begins.

Then you hear the incoming footsteps to your new room. Sure enough Damian pops into view in the doorway. He wastes no time in running over to you, stopping short of hugging you once he sees the wrappings peeking through your newly acquired pajamas.

“Alfred says you’ll live.” he says.

You nod you head lightly, as to not start another headache before the ibuprofen kicks in.

“You got there right in time.”

“I shouldn’t have let him get to you in the first place.”

“Wasn’t your fault, besides I can handle myself.”

“Obviously not look at your face.”

“I was in retirement. Cut me some slack.”

Bruce interrupts the impromptu match the both of you were having. Even though a part of him didn’t want to. He wanted to see the two of you interact more, since the both of you were family after all.

“Time to rest, say goodnight Damian.”

Damian takes another look over you.

“Goodnight.”

He walks out the door with his brother and father. And they shut the lights on their way out. You're thankful you get to shut your eyes for a bit. The homecoming Ra’s gave you was anything but sweet.

By morning time, you wake up to find Damian sleeping in a chair at the end of your bed. He has a blanket pulled over his form, from either Alfred or Bruce you take it.

“Thanks for offering to do the dishes with me. I know Alfred is probably losing it in there.” You said.

Bruce looked at you with a laugh, “Yeah.”

When you handed the last dish for him to dry and cut off the sink you didn’t make a move to leave the kitchen. You had some words to say to him now that everything was out in the open.

“I wanna be clear, that day when you hinted at the recorder being on and me hearing your conversation with the others, I wasn’t rejecting you.”

Bruce stopped drying the plate for a second. You saw him falter. He tried to pick up like it didn’t happen but you saw it. Instead of letting him continue you grabbed the plate from him.

He looked at you.

“You weren’t?”

You shake your head, “No. I think you're a great guy, from what I know at least. And you had to be or my mother wouldn’t have liked you. Nor would she had wanted me to find you.”

“About your mother-”

“We can talk about her another time. I’m talking about you Bruce Wayne. I wanted to let you know that I do wanna figure out this relationship. I couldn’t say anything before because there was things I was unsure of.”

He cleared his throat.

“Like me?”

“No I wasn't unsure of you. I was unsure of how you would react about me and my past. I was your secret child who had been murdered and brought back to life by a mercenary who trained me to kill. On top of that, I had unknowingly cared for your youngest son before either of us knew anything.” you said.

He nodded his head at your words.

“But I think I knew I was sure of you when you wanted to fake me out about the added information in your interview. When you let me walk away.” you said.

Bruce tried to hide a grin but he couldn’t do it, “I thought you rejected me that day.”

“I was trying to protect you. Before I knew who you were during the night time, that is.”

“So now that you know, how do we do this?” he asked.

You hold up on finger, “First, you will not send me money. I make enough as it is and I do not need more.”

“Maybe just a savings account then.”

“No, Bruce, no accounts. And no secret accounts either, I’ve heard from Alfred about your little set ups and such.”

“Sneaky.”

“I like him”

When you finally get to the dinning room in the morning everyone, sans Alfred, is waiting for you. You hold onto your wrapping as you take the open seat next to Damian and across from Jason.

“I just wanna say I’m sorry for flirting with you before I knew you were family.” Jason says.

He doesn’t sound that sorry, which makes you look over at Damian. He’s got a proud smirk on his face. You face forward again.

“It’ll never happen again right Todd?” he asks.

Jason mumbles something indescribable.

Then the room is filled with a moment of silence. It’s not really awkward per say, but you think it’ because they all have so many questions they don’t know where to start.

“So you guys LARP every night?” you ask.

Tim busts out laughing along with Dick. Jason crosses his arms over his chest with a chuckle. Damian, who you can tell is looking at you like you’ve grown another head, isn’t laughing. Neither is Bruce. Like father, like son you guess.

“I think you’re gonna fit right in.” Dick says.

“Speaking of which, are you gonna live here now?” Damian asks point blank.

Bruce beings to apologize for him but you shake your head and let him know it’s alright.

“I’m going to remain at my own residence. If you wanna come over you know the way.”

Jason has a look of shock on his face and Damian stops him.

“Shut it Todd.”

A knock comes from your front door. It must be one of them, maybe they forgot something? You jog over to the door and open it.

Dick Grayson is in your doorway.

“Did you leave something here?” you asked.

“No, I just wanted to say that I’m glad you're a part of the family. Honestly I’ve never seen Damian so calm before. And not his typical calm where he’s planning out every exit, this is different. It’s like he’s a normal kid.” he said.

You are speechless for a moment.

“Thank you for letting me know, Dick.” you smiled.

“Gotta get going, a flight to catch.”

You nodded you head, “Jason said you were in between red-heads. Do I wanna know what that means?”

He chuckled.

“I’ll let you know when I visit again, gotta go meet Wally.” he said.

Then he left with a simple wave. You could tell he wanted to hug you but didn’t want to cross any boundaries you might’ve had. In all honesty you would’ve hugged him back. You can see a bit of him in Damian and you’re thankful.

You closed the door and turned the lock.

As the rest of the boys cleared out, Bruce slid over your phone. The new one that you thought you had dropped on the sidewalk when you were taken. You reach for it and it’s totally fine.

You look up at him.

“Thanks, how did you get this?”

“Nyssa.”

Her name makes you still. She was never going to contact you after that night. Whatever friendship the two of your had was over. It was going to be hard to come to terms with but you’d have to make do.

But why did Nyssa have your phone?

“But this was on the ground last time I checked.” you asks.

“We saw on cctv, she picked it up while you were being put into the van. She had it on her the whole time, she’s the reason we were able to find you. Nyssa turned it on and it pinged a tower.” he answers.

Maybe it would be the last thing she ever did for you. Saving your life. You didn’t know what to think about her actions. It all felt like a past life or something.

You turn it on and see that you have unread messages and unanswered calls. Spanning days.

“How do I have all of this on my phone?” “I might’ve asked a favor from Killer Croc. It’s just the SIM card don't worry.”

“You mean Batman asked Killer Croc to find my phone?”

“He told me it wasn’t that far from where you dropped it, outside of your building.”

“What I’m hearing is you and Killer Croc talk one-on-one.”

About fifteen minutes later, after Dick returned, there was a knock you were expecting. It came from your fire escape. You hurried your way into your room and drew up the blinds. There he was.

You slid open the window.

“Hurry up and get in, it’s fuckin cold out there and I’ve got nothing on.” you said.

He climbed through the window and stood toe to toe with you.

“I can see that. Nice tank top.” he joked.

You raised your eyebrows at him, “You know I can just kick you out of my home you horny bastard.”

“Oh but then we couldn’t all the fun stuff.”

“That would indeed be the point Jason.”

He kissed the top of your head. Then he began to peel off his jacket. The same one that he wore to the gala when you first met. He looked just as good right now as he did that night. The cigarette smell might’ve added to that too. He placed it over the chair that sat in the corner of your room near the window.

It was a quick, like lighting really, and you saw him move his eyes away but he looked at your scar below your collarbone. It stuck out like a sore thumb when you two weren’t rolling around in the dark.

But before you can say something to him, he speaks.

“I never told you this, but I think we must’ve ran into each other before all of this.” he says.

You tilt your head, “where would I run into you, Jason Todd?”

“I’m not sure, maybe in a past life or something.” he shrugs.

You watch as he walks past you, heading to the kitchen no doubt. Out of the both of you your fridge is the better choice for actual food and not takeout. You follow behind him, only up until your room’s doorway which you lean your body against. And you think to yourself, you have a couple of past lives now.

#dc x reader #Jason Todd x reader #Dick Grayson x reader #Tim Drake x reader #Damian x reader #Bruce Wayne x reader #batman x reader #batfam x reader #redhood x reader #PAST LIVES

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colorseeingchick · 4 years

Text

Period Pains (Atsumu, Akaashi, Sugawara)

Periods. Suck. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. But maybe they can make it suck less.

A/N: Y’all can probably guess how my week has been :D. So this is mostly self indulgent and has definitely made me fall in love with all these boys much more. I may or may not stan Miya Atsumu now but we don’t talk about it (yet)

Warnings: None really! Fluffy and domestic wholesomeness. Post-timeskip.

Miya Atsumu

Atsumu starts to stir from his sleep when he hears a loud prolonged groan next to him.

He presses his eyes closed when the lights suddenly turn on. Ugh.

He opens his eyes to see you waddling away to the bathroom with your hand pressed to your stomach. Hmm?

He looks down and sees a relatively large splotch of red staining the sheet. HAH!

Suddenly, Atsumu is very alert.

“Babe what happened! Did you get hurt?”

Mans throws (I mean THROWS) himself out of bed and pulls a pair of shorts on as he stumbles to the bathroom to check on you.

“Baby are you-”

He sees you by the sink, washing your shorts, the water discolored as it runs off.

Ohhhh yeah! You were on your period.

Headass’s mind blanked while in a sleepy haze.

You sigh. “Yeah I’m… fine-ish. I guess.”

He smirks and comes up behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist, one hand gently rubbing over your long sleep shirt, right over your lower belly.

He presses a slow kiss into the side of your head and rocks you side to side while you continue to wash.

“Did ya wake up cuz of the pain, babe?”

“Mhm. And I saw the stain then too. Ain’t my luck just great?”

He groggily laughs and presses more kisses along the side of your face and holds you tighter.

“You got this, babe. I’ll bring the sheets here, yeah?”

“Kay.”

This, in its own way, is enough to make you feel… less bad.

You were far from feeling okay at this point, but Atsumu knowing the drill and nonchalantly helping out at 2 am made things feel less apocalyptic than they were in your head..

Atsumu strips the bed of all its sheets, rubbing his eyes as he tries to keep awake.

Handing the sheet to you, he leans against the wall as you washed out the immediate blood stains.

Once you wash it out, he takes it from you.

“Clean yerself up babe.”

He takes the sheets downstairs and throws them into the washing machine.

He goes to the kitchen and grabs a banana and some dark chocolate (because we healthy in this household).

And some ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet.

And runs back up to find you coming with new sheets in hand.

Putting your snacks down on your bedside table, he helps you pull the fresh sheets over your bed.

Sitting you on the bed, he hands you the food and sits next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder while you munch.

He gives you the medicine when you’re done.

“30 minutes- not bad. I think that’s our new record.”

He shuts off the lights and crawls into bed, opening his arms as you slide your legs under the comforter.

Snuggling into him, he nuzzles your forehead as he holds you close.

“Feelin better, babe?”

“Yeah… I’ll probably fall asleep in a bit or something.”

“Well, if ya wanna press up against me if that’ll make you feel better, ya can. And wake me up if ya need anything.”

“I will, Atsumu. Thanks.”

“G’nite, sweetheart.”

BONUS: you wake up late the next morning, Atsumu still holding you flush against his body.

Now that you slept well (thanks to the meds and Atsumu) and woke up without pain, you’re suddenly in a very affectionate mood.

Wiggling up, you find your way to Atsumu’s face, giving him a couple of soft pecks to his lips.

He stirs in his sleep, kissing you back.

But even after you had pulled away, he kept kissing at the air, trying to find your lips in his sleepy haze.

It was pretty funny.

He’s a headass, you’re not gonna lie.

But he’s your headass! And that’s all that matters.

Akaashi Keiji

Before even coming home, Akaashi knew you were going to be on your period today.

Your period tracking app was synced to his phone, so he knew when to prepare for your worst days with snacks, supplies, and lots of affection.

He hated how busy he was, that he couldn’t be home to take care of you. So making sure you had everything you needed was the best he could do.

But when Akaashi comes home and can’t find you anywhere, he starts to worry.

Where were you? You would usually always greet him when he came home, even when you were on your period.

He gets his answer when he hears sniffles and hiccups coming underneath the lump of blankets on the couch.

Akaashi knows that if you were ever fully underneath the blankets, there was something really wrong.

Taking his jacket off and throwing it over a chair in the kitchen, he rushes to your side and pulls the blankets delicately off your head.

“What’s wrong, darling.”

“H-hi Keiji. I’m s-sorry I didn’t m-mean to *hic* hide from you I j-just don’t feel too g-good.”

Your breath was so shaky and Akaashi’s heart shattered watching you.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong, dear.” Akaashi asks you in a whisper.

“My tummy just hurts so so much and it won’t go away I-” your sobs begin to rack through your whole body.

“Did you take medicine? Heating pad?” He asks gently as he runs his hands through your hair and wipes the tears off your face.

“N-no… I hate taking medicine Keiji you know that. But I took a hot shower and I hoped it would help and it didn’t.” You attempt to stifle your cries to talk coherently, misery wrapping around your soul.

“Alright then, give me a second, darling, and I’ll do whatever I can.”

After changing, Akaashi comes back downstairs to the couch and makes his way over to you.

He pats your head gently, “can you sit up for me?”

He swings his legs up onto the couch and opens his arms and legs so you could place yourself between all his limbs.

Crawling up to him, he turns you so that your back is pressed to his torso.

Immediately, Akaashi’s hands snake around your waist and find their way to two sides of your lower stomach.

His fingers gently message you, moving around to try and find which spots need his attention, all while he coaxes you into being relaxed.

“Shhh darling, you’re okay. I’m here and I’m going to shower you with my love. Just relax and let me take care of you, okay dearest?”

You nuzzle back against his chest, letting his words, touch, warmth, and smell fill all your senses.

“Keiji… how was your day?” You murmur, tilting your head back in an effort to look at him.

He smiles, warmth spreading through his body as he realizes even while in pain, you still want to carry on your daily check-in on him post work.

And so Akaashi tells you all the stories from the day- his new assignment, how panicked he got midday when the office went into crisis, a surprise visit from a certain owl during lunch time.

You listen attentively, but your hands subconsciously move his larger hands to the center of your lower abdomen, where he starts to gently rub, leaving your skin tingly and chest lighter.

“Do you feel better, Y/N?” after sitting in comfortable silence for a little, he decides to ask.

But when he got no response, he cranes his neck to check on you.

You had fallen asleep in his embrace, a sweet smile slowly creeping across your face.

He smiles too, overjoyed to know that he was able to relieve you of some of your pain.

“Goodnight, my love.” He whispers to you, his eyes slowly shutting, arms still on your stomach.

BONUS: at around 2 am, Akaashi wakes up, realizing he was still on the couch.

You, however, were nowhere to be seen.

Getting up, Akaashi heads to the kitchen to grab water, assuming you were already in bed.

Instead, he found you in the kitchen too, the smell of pancakes flooding the space.

“Keiji! We never ate dinner. I’m sorry I made you fall asleep without eating.”

A small smile appears on his face and he rubs his sleepy eyes.

“It’s okay, dear. I’m just glad you could sleep some.”

“Do you want pancakes?”

“I would love some.”

Sugawara Koushi

Like Akaashi, Suga knew what was about to happen when he got a phone call from you as soon as he was leaving school.

Regardless, hearing you sniffle over the phone activates every protective instinct in his body.

“What’s wrong baby?”

“Koushi, do you love me?”

A dumb question, obviously. Suga showered you with affection and endless praise on a daily basis for you simply just breathing. The most supportive of boyfriends!

But alas, insecurity still creeps up at times. And Suga gets it.

“I love you more than anything else, Y/N.”

“Can you come home, Koushi? I miss you.”

“I’m on my way, love. Give me 10 extra minutes, okay?”

Suga hopped into his car to head home, stopping by the store to pick up a few things.

He grabbed a pint of your favorite ice cream, your favorite chips (because do you want sweet or savory today? Only time will tell), and some flowers before heading home.

The moment he steps through the door, you throw your hands around him and groan out of frustration, pain, and just general dejectedness (don’t @ me for projecting I swear).

Suga smiles down at you, knowing that he can bring you some peace, and pulls you against him, flowers and bag still in hand.

“Let me go change, my love. These are for you.”

Your generally miserable disposition shifts as your nose is filled with the aroma of fresh flowers. Sweet and gentle scents always managed to lift your spirits, and Suga knew that.

“Mkay.”

Once Suga came downstairs, he headed to the kitchen to warm up some water to pour into a water bottle.

“Sweet or salty?”

“Salty.”

He grabs the warm water bottle and the bag of chips and makes his way over the couch where your eyes were begging him to shower you in love (which he was more than happy to do).

Sitting down and opening his arms, you pull yourself against his side, hugging him tightly and nuzzling against his chest.

He rubs your head before sliding his hand down, soothingly rubbing circles onto your back.

His other hand goes to place the warm water bottle on your lower abdomen, which you hold in place by pulling your legs up to your torso.

“Koushi, why do you love me?” You murmur against him. “I’m so whiny and clingy and annoying and insecure and you’re perfect… you deserve the best. You shouldn’t have to put up with someone like me-”

“Hey.” Suga gently but sternly cuts you off.

“That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about, and I don’t appreciate you talking about her like that.” He looks down at you and melts as he sees your puppy dog eyes staring back up at him.

“Koushi, I’m not wrong though. I am all those things.”

“And? I love you for it. I love that you whine for me and cling to me- it makes me feel wanted. I wouldn’t call you annoying, that's not your call to make. And insecure? That’s natural, my love. Everyone's a little insecure. I’m a little insecure. You’re not perfect and neither am I. And that’s okay. I don’t wanna love perfect. I want to love you and only you, okay?”

Tears prick your eyes but you feel better with Suga’s words of reaffirmation. He’ll tell you no matter how many times you need to hear it. “Thank you Koushi, I love you so much.”

“Shh, my love. Don’t cry. I love you, too.”

His grasp on you tightens as you relax against him, your breathing synchronizing.

“You wanna watch some TV?”

“Yes please.”

“Chips?”

“Mhm.”

Single word exchanges and the warmth of Suga’s sweater keep you connected as you allow yourself to forget your physical and mental pains.

Suga always knew exactly what you needed to hear, and never hesitated to tell you. No matter how ‘out of the blue’ or random it may have felt, he was always there for when you needed him.

BONUS: you guys settle on watching a romance movie, Suga feeding you chips while popping some into his own mouth as well.

But once the movie got to the really sad part, you started crying (sometimes movies just made you cry, but hormones made it so much worse).

“Baby, don’t cry, it’s just a movie.”

“But Koushi, you’re crying too!”

In honesty, Suga’s face was very tear-streaked as well, his sniffles hushed.

“Okay fine, we can both cry together.”

And so you did! Both of you cried, emotions fully invested in the movie, chips still being munched on while sobs shook your bodies.

It would have been a goofy sight to any onlookers, but it was the pinnacle of your relationship- emotionally vulnerable, intimate, and domestic. True perfection, if you were to ask me.

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years

Text

This is two parts because I got carried away. I wrote this on my phone and proof read as much as I could.

Warnings: cheating, male masturbation, m/f sex, minor spoilers for “Defending Jacob”.

——————————————————————————————

Plain Gold Ring

“Plain gold ring on his finger he wore

It was where everyone could see

He belonged to someone, but not me

On his hand was a plain gold ring”

-Nina Simone

When the Barbers moved to your building every old bitty in the place was buzzing with excitement. You had loosely followed Jacob Barber’s case as it played out on the evening news. The whole thing was bizarrely too neat and tidy for your liking. You tried to stay out of idle gossip as much as possible. But, when you heard Andy Barber was interviewing for a senior position at your firm, you had questions.

Andy was brought in to interview for a position that you were also interested in. You requested a meeting with your boss and you went in guns blazing. Your poor boss was not ready for all the excitement.

“Am I still being considered for junior partner?”

“Y/n, calm down.” When he saw you winding yourself up, he popped an antacid an a few ibuprofen.

“Calm down? Calm down he says. I’ve been with this firm since I clerked for you in Law school, Stan. I’m the best fit for this role and you know it.”

“I know you are, kid. I’ve been out voted.”

It’s common knowledge that the partners don’t want too many women gunning for their jobs. They already have one token female partner. They didn’t feel the need to add another. You were infuriated. You stomped back to your office and slammed the door.

All of the work you put in. All of the late nights. You don’t have time to even date. And all for what? You had to calm down now because you were starting to cry out of sheer frustration. You took a deep breath and started going through your to do list. With a relatively light schedule you decided to leave for the day. You mumbled something to your assistant about a doctors appointment and headed for the elevator.

You saw some of the senior partners headed your way shaking hands with Andy. You pressed the elevator button furiously trying to avoid them. Could you make it down seventeen flights of stairs in your stilettos? The elevator dinged and you jumped on just as Robert called your name.

As soon as you put your car in gear, your assistant called. You sent her to voicemail. She called again. Declined. Finally she texted call me back ASAP. Emergency. Fuck.

“Caitlan I said I had an appointment. What’s the emergency?”

“Sorry. Mr. Cramer insisted I call. He’s standing by my desk” she whispered. “They want you to have lunch with them today. Maybe it’s about the job.”

“Did you see guy shaking hands with them? That’s the new junior partner. They are asking me to lunch to reject me. Fuck! Where?” You rested your head against the steering wheel.

“Commander’s at 1:00.”

“Fine.” you groaned.

You went home to freshen up and send out your updated resume. You made sure to include “Willing to relocate” at the end to broaden your prospects. You had a friend in Chicago who worked for a very high profile firm. They were always looking for new blood. You shot her a text to let her know you were looking then emailed your resume. The prospect of starting over completely made you nauseous. You would have to go through the ranks and probably waist another five years to get exactly where you were right now.

When you arrived at the restaurant the maître d brought you to the table where Stan, several other senior partners and Andy were waiting. Andy stood up to pull out your chair.

“Gentleman. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Sit down, Y/N. We wanted to introduce you to Andrew Barber.”

“Andy. Please call me Andy. It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N. These guys haven’t stopped talking about you all morning.”

“All good things I hope.” The men laughed and ordered a round of martinis. Good thing you ate a big lunch at home. No one likes a sloppy drunk girl.

“Yes. Well, Y/N, as you may not know Andy has accepted the junior partner position. We would love if you brought him up to speed on anything you’re working on and show him the ropes.”

You were seething. “Of course Mr. Cramer. Happy to.”

“Oh. Good. Let’s order huh? I’m starving.”

You were silent for the rest of lunch ordering two more martinis very dry and a salad. Dressing on the side of course. The men spoke loudly and never even tried to include you in the conversation. You excused yourself to use the restroom. Andy, ever the gentleman, stood up at the same time.

You didn’t go back. Not that it would have mattered. You ordered an Uber and checked your email. You didn’t notice Andy at the valet stand.

“I’m headed back to the office. Need a ride?” he called to you.

“No. I’m good. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.” He watched you pace back and forth reading a message almost out loud.

You didn’t look up from your phone. “Shit.” You scowled looking at the screen. You dialed Caitlan’s extension. “Caitlan, Sloan Treadaway’s deposition was moved to today. I need it pushed to Monday.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I figured you would be coming back so I told them it was ok to push it up. I can call them back.”

“No. Don’t bother. I’m on my way back.”

“Looks like you can use a ride after all.” Andy was grinning from ear to ear.

He held the door and rushed around to the other side. You pulled a small bag out of your purse. You freshened your hair, popped some breath mints, lotioned and spritzed away the smell of booze. Andy thought this must be commonplace for you. It’s not easy trying to run with the guys. He could walk into this deposition piss drunk and most people wouldn’t care. You had to be perfect. He always hated that aspect of working in a big firm like this.

“Sorry. I’ll pay to have your car cleaned.” It smelled like you now. Expensive perfume and minty breath. Sweet but not sickly so. He inhaled letting his nostrils flair breathing you in. “Don’t want your wife to be pissed.”

“Lori? Don’t worry about her. She’ll understand.”

“How is she doing with her job search?”

“Doing ok. Thanks for asking. She’s interviewed with a few places.”

“She worked for a non profit right?” When he looked at you quizzically, you quickly explained yourself. “I hear things. Anyway. I know the director of a non profit organization that might be a great fit for her. I’ll pass along her information.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it. Stan told me you were the front runner for this position. I know how hard it is for women in this industry. I want to say how sorry I am…”

“Let me stop you there. First of all, don’t be sorry. You’re high profile and a damn good litigator. They would be stupid not to offer you the moon. You’re over qualified for this job. You didn’t come here gunning for me. I’ll be fine. Besides, a few of these old bags have one foot in the grave. It won’t be long for me.”

Andy smiled at you but still kind of felt like shit at the way the firm treated you. When you pulled into the garage you offered a quick thanks and rushed into the building to prepare.

Andy stayed behind for a bit. He spent a few precious moments breathing in your scent, letting it linger and wash over him. He hoped his clothes would smell a little like you. Stan said you were a “fire cracker”. Andy always hated that analogy. He knew by the way the group of men talked about you that he would like you. Your quick banter in the car confirmed it. Throughout the rest of the day you would invade his thoughts. He and Lori were still married but their relationship was long over. You had excited him more in a couple of hours than she had in years. When he got home he didn’t eat dinner or speak to anyone. He went right to his room where he replayed your exchange over and over. The ghost of your perfume lingered on his shirt. Both of your scents mixed together gave him a raging hard on. He kept your shirt over his face while he fisted his cock.

——————————————————————

The next morning you decided to face the day with a fresher attitude. Sometime yesterday you heard from your friend. She was thrilled that you reached out to her. She has been trying to get you out there for a while. Knowing that you had a solid backup plan was giving your hair volume and clearing your skin.

You thought you were early but Andy was already in your office waiting for you.

“Morning, Mr. Barber.” God he loved how you said that.

He scoffed, “Andy. Please. I brought you a coffee. I hope it’s ok. I got your order from Caitlan. I thought we’d order in lunch today. We have a lot of ground to cover. You should probably let your family know you’ll be missing dinner.”

“I don’t think my dead ficus will worry too much.” Your tone was dry.

“I apologize for the assumption.”

“Not necessary. Though my mother and my therapist would both be pleased to know that I look like someone who could have a family.”

You were funny. You seemed to say whatever thought popped into your head. You had one hell of a poker face though. He didn’t know if you were trying to be funny or if this was just you. When you didn’t look up from your computer screen he didn’t laugh.

As the day wore on you warmed up to him a little. You filled him in on the three big cases you were working on. You were actually going to trial on a very important case soon. He insisted you rehearse your opening statement a hundred times.

During the third run through Andy’s phone was blowing up. He finally turned it off and told you to keep going. He watched you pace around the room and coached you on your stance. “Stand with authority not arrogance.” He chided. He showed you himself then, asked if he could touch your shoulders. “Round them out like this. Good. Back straight. See?” he pointed to your reflection in the window, “It’s not menacing or arrogant. But you look like you’re in charge. You look perfect.” Hell. Was he flirting with you? By the time you looked at the clock it was 9:30.

“Fuck is that the time?” he said with a boisterous yawn.

“Shit. We should pick this up tomorrow.”

“Let’s go get a drink. I’m buying.”

You quirked your eyebrow, “I’m sure your wife and kiddo are dying to see you.”

He stacked some folders neatly on your desk and looked up at you through his lashes, “I’ll be sure to tell my therapist that I look like a guy who has a happy marriage and a good relationship with his kid.”

Your cheeks heated. The way he was looking at you made you sad but it also warmed your insides. “I’m sorry.” you mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. We said we would stay together until Jacob went away to school. He pretends to ignore the fact that we have separate bedrooms. We put on happy faces everyday. We’re a typical American family.”

You laughed at his admission. His whole story was so fucked up. You wanted to know everything about him. “You know, I think I will let you buy me a drink.”

“Good girl.” he said in a low voice that went strait to your core. The whole way to the car you repeated a mantra in your head reminding you not to get involved with a married man. It didn’t matter how unhappy they were. But you wanted him. Every time he touched you, your insides would quake.

The bar was packed with regulars from the DA’s office and other firms. You introduced Andy around. The guy was a legitimate pro. He was so smooth working the room. The whole time he kept finding small ways to touch you. The brush of his fingers on your arm his breath against your ear when he asked if wanted another drink. Your heart nearly stopped. You stuck with him for a while until your feet couldn’t stand anymore. Every time he caught your eye from across the room he winked at you.

For the first time in a long time Andy was enjoying himself. Your friends were fun and not at all stuffy like he thought this crowd would be. You were adorable. Your laugh was cute. The way you brushed against him on purpose was cute. You were openly flirting with him the more you drank. He had a massive crush on you. What grown man has a crush these days. He thought maybe if he fucked you and got it out of his system he’d get over it.

Your friend Liz sat down at your table trying to talk to you for a solid minute before you noticed. “Sorry. I was distracted. What were you saying?” She threw her head back laughing at you.

“I said you two would make a gorgeous couple.”

“Stop. He’s married.”

“Happily?”

“That doesn’t matter. Married is married.”

“So that’s a no. He’s been eye fucking you all night. Shoot your shot, darling. We get so few in this life.” The light hit his wedding ring just right making you feel horrible for even entertaining the thought. Do not get involved. You kept chanting it in your head over and over until Andy slid in the booth next to you. He leaned over so he could talk over the din of the crowd.

“Hey, you. Wanna get out of here?”

“You don’t need to bring me home, Andy. I can catch an Uber.” That was such a ridiculous statement since you lived in the same building.

“That’s not what I asked. I said do you wanna get out of here?” His eyes were fixed on your mouth. A salacious grin splayed across his lips just knowing you’d give in.

“Andy. I….” You stuttered over your words. Your brain stopped working when you felt his warm breath on the shell of your ear. “Let’s get out of here.” Your breath hitched in your chest when he touched the small of your back. He payed his tab and lead you out of the bar.

You held hands in the car. His thumb rhythmically traced patterns on your knuckles. Every touch sent bolts of arousal to your aching cunt. It felt electric. You were ready to crawl into his lap by the time you made it into the garage. He parked in his spot and followed behind you to the elevator. You lived two floors below him. You glanced back at Lori’s sensible suv next to his car and felt embarrassed. He caught you looking and stopped you in your tracks. He took your chin in between his thumb and index finger forcing you to look at him.

“I understand if you don’t want to invite me in. I’m asking a lot of you. But I really like you, Y/N. You are funny and intimidatingly smart. And, fuck me, you are fucking stunning. I can go to work tomorrow like nothing happened. Don’t worry about Lori. Worry about what this means working together. Can you handle this?”

Your brain was no longer working and deferred to your pussy for any and all further decisions. You had not had even mediocre sex in six months. You just knew Andy was going to blow your mind. All day you have been working together so well. You challenged each other and he encouraged you when you faltered. Would this change the dynamic at work? Absolutely. Could you handle it? You’re damn right you could.

“I can handle it.”

“Good girl.” You all but sprinted to the elevator. He wouldn’t touch you until you actually got inside of your apartment and closed the door. When you did, he pushed against you and covered your lips with his.

You tasted the golden flavor of beer on his tongue as it probed your mouth. He unbuttoned your blouse and pushed it over your shoulders letting it hit the floor. He kissed his way down the column of your neck to the swell of your breasts. You panted underneath him raking your nails through his hair.

“God you smell incredible. At any point if you don’t want this….”

“Andy, shut up and fuck me.” He growled low in his throat before he picked you up and carried you to your bedroom. You could see how hard he was through his impeccably tailored slacks. You unzipped his fly and took the whole throbbing appendage in your mouth.

“Fuck, baby yes.” he hissed. You relaxed your throat muscles and swallowed him deeper. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He moaned your name over and over soaking your panties. “Stop, honey. Let me see that pretty pussy.”

He eased you down onto the bed and undressed you painfully slow. It had been so long since he was intimate with someone, he wanted to take his time. He started with your feet removing your heels and massaging your insteps. His hands ran up the length of your legs to your skirt. He took off your panties first letting the skirt material pool around your waist. “So wet for me. So beautiful.” He slipped two fingers in between your folds hitting everywhere but your clit. He built up a tortuous rhythm that had you begging for relief. He smiled down at you watching completely fall apart. When he dipped his fingers inside of you, you were done. Your orgasm spilled out in one glorious cry. Before you could catch your breath he pulled off your skirt and unhooked your bra. His cock was weeping at the sight of you. A large hand held the back of your neck holding your head in place so you could look at him. Your eyes locked as he buried himself inside of you. There were no more words as he moved inside of you. Only breathless moans and sighs would escape your lips. He increased his pace and your orgasm started building again.

“Fuck. Andy, I’m….fuck!”

“I’m with you, honey. Come with me.” His words were your undoing. You latched your whole body onto him. He held you tight whispering praises in your ear. He kissed you slow and deep easing you back down to Earth. “You ok?”

“I think so.” You both laughed at the sight of yourselves. Sweat glistening off of your skin, lips puffy and kiss swollen. He eased off of you and rubbed your thighs to relax you. You thought he would get dressed and rush out but he crawled under the covers instead.

“Can I stay for a while?” Big arms pulled you down to his chest. He stroked your back softly to help you drift off to sleep.

“I’d like it if you did.” He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and let his eyes flutter closed.

When dawn found you a few hours later, you were still tangled with each other. You jolted awake panicking because Andy was still in your bed. “Andy, wake up. You stayed all night.”

“I know. What time is it?”

“6:45.”

“Then we have time. Go back to sleep.”

“But Lori…”

“I told you not to worry about her. Get back on this pillow and let me hold you. Please.” The poor guy was so touch starved you guessed. Andy Barber was not a man who did well being single. He loved being in love. He longed for a connection. For passion. He knew those things would sometimes fizzle out of a marriage. But, with you, he couldn’t see that. Your fire matched his fire and Lori was the wet blanket that always snuffed him out.

He supposed that wasn’t really fair. Two people were in their marriage. He worked long hours and spent very little time doing anything but being an ADA and being a dad. He didn’t give the same dedication to being Lori’s partner. The stress of this past year pushed them further apart. He felt obligated to be with her. It was his idea to stay together for Jacob’s sake. He regretted pushing for it.

He pulled you close to his body and wrapped an arm around your waist. He nuzzled your hair and fell back to sleep. You did too.

#andy barber #andy barber x y/n #andy barber smut #defending jacob

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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

Note

Charlie gets super drunk on a girls night out and JJ has to pick her up early and she’s all lovey and drunk in the front seat??! Would love either smut or fluff.. whatever ur feeling!

I missed these fools :’)

warning: mentions of sex, cursing. wordcount: 1.5k

gif source: @anakin-skywalker (also this is the expression he gives her several times throughout this fic)

__________

After five unreadable texts and three unanswered calls late in the night, JJ decided it was time to pick Charlie up from the bars. She had been out on her sorority’s bar crawl all day and was tipsy by noon, drunk by three, probably recovered for a couple hours then went right back to drinking after dinner. He didn’t even bother trying to call her again before he pulled up to the bar, car parked haphazardly by the curb. After flashing his ID to the bouncer and strolling in, it didn’t take long for him to find Charlie and her sorority, loud as hell in the corner.

JJ came up behind her and slid both arms around her waist - a mistake.

She immediately elbowed him in the stomach, whirling around with her drink in hand, then recognized what she did a moment too late. “JJ, oh my god, hello! Shit, sorry, I thought you were some creep.” He let out a groan and shook his head, laughing. “No, just your boyfriend coming to pick you up. You gotta go home.”

“No, no, stay. I’m having fun. I’m like, practically sober.”

Her slurring said otherwise and he smirked, taking her cup and downing the rest of it. “No you are not. C’mon, Walker, say goodbye.”

“Noooo.” She whined, but welcomed his arm around her shoulders, leaning into him for stability. “I haven’t had enough yet.”

He raised his eyebrows and counted the tally marks down her arm for every shot she’d had, adding it up to twelve. “You said your goal was eight for today, right?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Charlie looked at her arm, counting out loud with her brows knit together. “One, two, three...um, five, six, seven. Eight?”

JJ laughed and tucked his arm around her waist instead. “You beat your goal, I’m proud of you. Can I take you home?”

She smirked and leaned close, her lips sloppily brushing his ear. “What are you gonna do to me when we’re home?”

“Oookay.” He shook his head and started walking. “Let’s go, pretty girl.”

“You’re so demanding.” She complained, but didn’t resist as she walked with him out to his car, only stumbling a couple times. After a moment, her eyes lit up. “Is that what we’ll do when we’re home?”

“You’re going to bed when we’re home, is what’s happening.” He admonished, wondering when he got to be so responsible that he was the one taking care of someone else that was drunk. (Then he remembered he loved this girl like hell, and it was worth it ten times over.) It took a few moments of wrestling to get her into the car and he winced when she bumped her head on the door, quickly soothing his hand over her head.

“Maybank, ouch!” She whined, rubbing her head.

“M’sorry, Charlie, you gotta cooperate.” He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her temple, knowing she’d forget about it in two seconds.

“I think I want to be on top tonight.” She mused and he just looked at her, cocking his head. “That is not happening tonight.”

“Uh huh, sure.” She nodded and he laughed, carefully shutting her in and getting in on the driver’s side. To her credit, Charlie stayed quiet for a solid two minutes until she leaned over, toying with his hair. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He responded, leaning into her touch like he always did. “Are you chilled out now?”

“Have you ever had road head?”

JJ had never been so thankful to be at a red light and whipped his head around to look at her, his eyes wide as saucers. “Charlie, what the fuck?”

“Oh, okay, so you haven’t?” She sat back in her chair, casual as ever. “I’ve never given it, but I always thought it might be fun. I don’t think you could handle it though, we’d prob’ly get in a wreck, you know?”

“I - uh - yes, probably.” He was jolted out of his temporary daydream as the car honked behind him, making him concentrate on the road again. “Drunk words are sober thoughts, right? I’m not making that phrase up?”

“No sir.” She leaned over, sliding her hand up his thigh, and he tensed and nudged it away. “Hands to yourself, Walker.”

“When we get married, are you gonna call me Walker still? Or Maybank?”

“Um.” JJ glanced over at her, tilting his head again. “I honestly haven’t thought that far ahead. Do you have a preference?”

She pouted, furrowing her brow. “You haven’t thought ‘bout us getting married?”

“No, no, I have, I have. Just not about your nickname.” He grinned and reached over, tugging gently on the end of her hair. She moaned, all breathy, and he immediately let go, laughing. “Charlie, please, we’re so close to home. Keep it in your pants.”

“You’re no fun.” She complained, scowling, and rested her head against the window.

“I can be plenty fun.”

“You’re plenty lame right now.” Charlie closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against the cool window, tempting sleep.

“Am not.” He glanced over again and squeezed her thigh. “Hey, hey, no sleeping yet. I have to get your makeup off or you’ll kill me tomorrow morning.”

She sighed dramatically, lifting her head from the window and leaned toward him. “Not sleepin’.”

“Sure you’re not.” A few moments later, he was pulling into her driveway and gently got her out of the car, easily taking her into his arms. She squirmed for a moment, but he only tightened his hold.

“Come on, I can walk. I’m twelve thousand percent sober.” She grumbled, but leaned her head against his chest anyways. JJ laughed and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “That’s what you said last time, and you ended up with a bruised butt. Just let me take care of you.”

“Fine, fine.” She murmured, clutching onto his shirt when he tried not to jostle her as they went upstairs. He carefully set her on the bathroom counter, then rifled through her drawers. “Where’s your makeup thingies?”

“Huh?”

“For taking it off. The cloths?” He shut the last drawer, then spotted it on the countertop just behind her. “Ah! Here we go.” JJ pulled one out and handed it to her expectantly. “Go ahead.”

“You do it.” She protested, pushing it back into his hands.

He resisted rolling his eyes, because as adorable as she was when she was drunk, she was also a fucking pain. “Okay. Close your eyes.”

She did and he began swiping over her face, roughly, until she cried out. “Gentle, gentle! You’re gonna give me wrinkles.”

“Fuck - okay!” He startled. “I thought I hurt you there for a second, jeez. Stay still.” JJ held her chin steady with his free hand, wiping off her makeup a lot more carefully now. Once he finally finished, and she convinced him into putting a serum and moisturizer on her, he helped her off the counter. She’d sobered up some, but not nearly enough, and leaned on him heavily as they brushed their teeth side by side.

“JJ?”

“Yeah, pretty girl?”

She yawned, her head dropping to his chest. “Can we still try the road head thing sometime? Will you remember for me?”

“Oh my god.” He placed both hands on her shoulders and steered her into her bedroom, making her take a seat while he pulled out pajamas for her (just an oversized shirt of his and tiny sleepshorts that drove him crazy most mornings). “I sure as hell won’t forget that you said that, no.”

“Good.” She nodded, satisfied, and let him tug off her jeans and pull her shirt over her head without protest. He groaned when he saw his favorite bra of hers and gave her a quick kiss, not letting himself (or her) go any further. “You had to wear that today, really?”

“Laundry day.” She shrugged, a hint of a smirk on her lips.

“Tease.” He responded, ghosting his fingers along her sides to make her squeal as he unclipped the bra and pulled on his (okay, by this point it was hers) shirt over her head.

“I would never.” She grinned up at him and pulled him down to her, both hands on the side of his face as she kissed him long and slow. He gave into her touch for a moment, then was brought back to reality when she teasingly bit his bottom lip and he groaned against hers. “Charlie.”

“JJ.”

He pulled away reluctantly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Promise to stay here if I go grab you water?”

“Swear on my life.” She told him sincerely. He nodded, not believing her for a second, but hurried downstairs to fill up a glass of water for her, grabbing a couple ibuprofen pills too.

By the time he made it back up, she was knocked out with the covers halfway over her, mouth parted adorably as she slept - just as he expected. Carefully, JJ turned out the lights and tucked in behind her, pulling the covers over her properly. She grumbled a little at the movement but curled into him, extra cuddly as always.

_____

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#jj maybank #outer banks #jj maybank fanfiction #obx fanfic #jj maybank fanfic #jj x charlie #frat jj #college jj #mine

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

MonX Hospital | Shownu

Pairing: Son Hyunwoo x reader

Genre: physiotherapist – hospital au / strangers to lovers

Warnings: medical terms, injury and recovery, a water scene, basically you will fall madly in love with Shownu by the end of this >_>

Word count: 4296

You didn’t know why your neighbour was acting over the top like this. Sure, you had taken a nasty fall from your front step four hours ago, tripping on the welcome mat outside your door, of all things, before tumbling off into your garden. You had assured Cassidy then that you were fine and some rest would help. However, she had watched the whole thing, even heard the crack when your ankle had twisted during your accident.

She wasn’t about to let you rest up in bed with just an ice pack and ibuprofen.

However, you had walked into the emergency department and surely that meant nothing was broken, right? There was a little swelling and that was to be expected with a nasty sprain. You had told Cassidy you’d go to your general practitioner in the morning if it was any worse. That would be much better than sitting in the ER department’s waiting room for hours as you had thus far.

“You’ll thank me for this one day,” she told you after your umpteenth sigh and you turned to the woman, shooting her an imploring gaze. She patted your lower arm gently. “You’re too young to be messed up from an injury.”

“You’re not that much older than me, Cass,” you pointed out and she shrugged. “Don’t act like you’re wiser than me over this.”

“Take it from a professional klutz, you’ll ache from morning to night if you don’t get things checked out.”

“It’s probably just a sprained ankle.”

“Do you have a medical degree?” the woman shot back and you slumped into your chair, defeated. Cassidy grinned smugly. “Precisely why you and I are going to wait until some hot doctor comes and-”

“Miss L/N?” an older, balding doctor called from the doors and you gave Cassidy another look.

She helped you up to your feet. “Okay, so he’s not hot but there are always the technicians and other doctors you’ll be seeing today to brighten your mood.”

As you expected, the long hours of waiting around the hospital hadn’t confirmed a break in any of your bones. It wasn’t all good news either. “I’ve done what?”

“You’ve torn a ligament in your ankle called the anterior talofibular ligament. When you rotated your ankle like this,” the doctor picked up a foot model and re-enacted a similar movement as to what you believed had happened before continuing. “It caused the ligament to tear. There’s good and bad news in this. The good is that you came in immediately after the incident occurred so we can begin treatment right away. The bad news is that ligaments vary in recovery rate. Normally they heal within six weeks, and with a solid physiotherapy plan, your motion and strength should return to normal or as best as a normal can be within two to three months. However, as I said, they have a tendency to take their own pace so what we like to see in recovery might not be the actual prognosis time you face.”

“Aren’t you glad I brought you in now?” Cassidy breathed from the chair beside you and you nodded slowly, deciphering all the information given by the doctor. He proceeded in filling in a few pieces of paperwork, one for medication, another for a referral to the hospital physiotherapy clinic, and two more for work and your usual doctor. He then placed your now considerably swollen ankle into a support bandage and issued you some crutches for the next few days.

“It would be best to head up to physiotherapy now and book in an appointment. They get pretty busy by mid-week and so you’ve caught the start of their week well by being injured now,” the doctor mentioned with a wry smile and gestured for the door. “Good luck with your recovery, Y/N.”

“You sure you can hobble up there?” Cassidy asked as you struggled to get a hang of the crutches once out of the orthopaedic department. She smiled gently. “I can dash up and book the appointment if you like.”

“That’d be good and I’ll go fill my prescription while you do that,” you proposed, meeting back up after attending to your different tasks. You frowned at the dazed expression upon your neighbour’s face. “Did it go well?”

“I don’t know if I’ve just sealed your fate or not,” Cassidy breathed out and you cocked your head to the side, waiting for more information. “The therapists up there are something else. And your one, Hyunwoo is his name. I don’t know if you’ll survive your first meeting with him.”

“Of course I will,” you replied, hobbling towards the exit. “Stop dreaming of me meeting someone special within these hospital walls, Cass. I’m coming in for treatment, not anything else.”

You were kind of grateful that Cassidy had work when your appointment in the physiotherapy clinic came around three days later. Because you really didn’t want to hear her tell you, “I told you so”.

Boy, was Hyunwoo something else, indeed.

It wasn’t even just the fact that he was physically attractive. He was too comfortable to be around, joking with you not even five minutes into the first meeting.

“So did you throw out your welcome mat?” he mused, reading over the notes and you chuckled softly.

“Not yet.”

“I figured it might not be as welcomed in front of your home after your nasty fall the other day,” he continued and then looked up at you with a smile. “How’s it been feeling?”

“Pretty sore and stiff,” you admitted and Hyunwoo nodded, ticking a couple of boxes. The initial part of your appointment continued with him asking you questions about your injury and general health and you answering them as best as you can, smiling and laughing along the way. By the end of the questions, you had almost forgotten why you were even here, just enjoying your time with the man.

And then Hyunwoo stood up. “I’m afraid the fun part of today is now over. I have to be a little mean to you now.”

“Mean?”

“I need to examine the amount of movement you have but I promise I’ll end it with a soothing massage afterwards,” he expressed, reaching forward for the crutches you had walked in on and tucked them under his arm. He then held out his other arm. “Here, allow me to help you over to the cubicle we’ll use today.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head once attached to his arm for support. It was as strong as it appeared, helping you maintain your balance as you hobbled with him to the space for your treatment.

Hyunwoo was watching you avidly, or at least, how your leg moved, murmuring encouragingly until he had you seated on the bed. He smiled warmly at you. “That was pretty rough, huh?”

“I haven’t walked without the crutches yet.”

“That’s okay, I won’t take them away from you just yet, I promise. But they will be leaving you later next week with all things going well, so let’s help you get to that point, shall we?”

Even though Hyunwoo’s examination hurt, and brought you close to tears twice, he was so gentle and soothing throughout that you remained rather relaxed.

“You okay?” he asked when he was done and you nodded softly, which made him smile yet again. You wondered if you would need any painkillers after this session or if his smiles would continue to remove the pain from your awareness. He patted you on the leg gently and then hopped up. “I’m just going to get the ultrasound machine. Don’t go running off anywhere, will you?”

You laughed at his sentence and once he returned with the machine, Hyunwoo pulled the back of the bed up and helped you sit up before moving to the end of the bed, lifting your leg so he could sit down, placing your ankle on his lap. You were so focused on his actions that you failed to feel the cold squirt of the gel he put on your leg but you did feel the warmth of his hand supporting your leg, and of course the machine, as the wand began to move in slow, circular movements.

“Ohh,” you hummed appreciatively and Hyunwoo chuckled.

“Told you, I’ll make you feel good, Y/N.”

“Well you’re good at it,” you replied mindlessly, your cheeks reddening when you realised what you said. Hyunwoo sheepishly chuckled.

“Good to know my years at school training are paying off.”

“Right, of course,” you agreed awkwardly, fanning the flames licking at your cheeks.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret though,” Hyunwoo mentioned, leaning in towards you a little. He grinned. “It’s the machine doing all the work right now.”

That deflated the tension, both of you laughing together. It beeped three times to let you know it had finished after several more minutes of treatment and Hyunwoo wiped away the excess gel, handing you a sheet with three gentle exercises to try at home and your crutches too.

“I’ll see you on Monday, Y/N.”

“You will.”

“Have a good weekend, and make sure to get rid of the mat until you’re better. I don’t want you hurt any more than you are.”

Did he want you to swoon any harder instead? Nodding in reply, you fare-welled the man before hobbling out of the department, sucking in a deep breath.

You hoped come Monday you would be in better condition to squish down your rising affection for your physiotherapist.

Monday came and went, with much of the same banter and comfortable company from Hyunwoo. As your sessions continued, you grew closer to Hyunwoo. He would ask what you were doing outside of work or plans you had and share tidbits about himself. He was always joking around with you and his touch was just as warm as it had been the first time you met him.

Perhaps he had healing powers within those hands of his. Your leg over the past five weeks had healed a great deal.

“Yes, that’s it Y/N!” Hyunwoo praised as you managed to handle the gym activities today. You were exhausted but felt good to notice the strength returning to your ankle. He gave you a high five that lingered a little before handing you your water bottle. “I’m proud of your recovery so far.”

“Those exercises at home you gave at the last session helped me.”

“Well I’m going to give you a new instruction this time around,” he enthused with a bright smile. “How’s your Thursday looking?”

“Thursday I’m pretty flexible for time, why?”

“I’ll book in the pool.”

“I’m sorry, the what?” you shot back immediately, your eyes rounding as saucers.

Hyunwoo examined your expression for a moment before smiling again. “Are you afraid of water?”

“No,” you replied, your eyes darting away from his torso. Surely he wouldn’t insist on getting in the pool with you, right?

“Good, hydrotherapy is a great form of exercise and strength building-”

“I mean I’m not scared of water but I can’t exactly swim either.”

“That’s fine our pool is designed to be able to reach the floor at all times. It’s not really used for swimming, it’s a series of exercises done in the water to take the weight-bearing aspect out of the equation. I think you could benefit from this. Besides, I’ll be right beside you the whole time. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

This knowledge didn’t ease you any. Not only was Hyunwoo going to see you in a swimsuit, you would potentially be seeing him in his. Your heart began to race with the anxiety building and Hyunwoo noticed, rubbing your shoulders gently. “Hey, have I ever done anything to make our sessions unsafe? I promise you it’ll be fine. Okay?”

“Oh-kay.”

“That’s my girl!” he enthused and nodded happily. “Let’s go book in the appointment now, shall we?”

And despite trying to slow down the clock, Thursday arrived and you were seated in the lobby of the therapy clinic, waiting for Hyunwoo to call you in. Fiddling with the strap to your beach bag you had brought along to carry the extra things you needed for today’s session, you gulped when you heard your name called.

Hyunwoo normally wore a polo shirt and sports track pants so when you noticed his uniform was that of black swimming jammers and an equally form-hugging black sports shirt, you actually needed a moment to find the strength to return to your legs.

Today wasn’t a good idea.

“Shall we go? The pool is all ready,” he called and you nodded faintly, hauling yourself up onto shaky legs. Hyunwoo came to your aid, assuming it was sheer nerves.

Which it was, just not about the actual pool.

Once helped into the room, Hyunwoo walked down the ramp with ease into the water. He looked so natural within the pool and you assumed that some of those toned muscles must come from being a swimmer. He then gestured to you to join him. “There’s a changing room off to the side there but it looks like you have your suit on underneath?”

You blushed at his observation, nodding numbly. “Yeah, I could just take it off here.”

“Allow me to give you the privacy to do so then,” he replied, turning around so you could take off your outer layers.

You had opted for your favourite one-piece suit, deciding anything else would be not very appropriate for today’s session. You were here to exercise, nothing more! And that’s what you told yourself repeatedly as you approached the ramp. Hyunwoo turned then, coming up to meet you half way and took your hand. “Ready?”

“I guess.”

“We’ll start easy with just walking up and down the pool, okay?” Hyunwoo instructed and you nodded, soon feeling comfortable to walk without his guiding hand. He was still at your side just in case you needed him.

You didn’t dare look in his direction.

“Alright, let’s try some stretches,” he announced, coming over to the side of the pool and demonstrating a leg lift. You executed them with relative ease, and the next four exercises also. Hyunwoo then went to get a weird looking hollow dumbbell and returned, laughing at your confusion. “It doesn’t look like much but this bad boy can actually be really hard to push through the water. Have a go.”

You gasped when you pushed it under the water, your gaze snapping back up to his in surprise. “Wow, it’s really heavy now!”

“Clever isn’t it. Try walking up and down whilst pushing it through the water as you walk. It’s going to take a bit more out of you so remember, slow and steady. Ready?”

“Sure!” you replied, heading off down the pool. It was definitely work and when you reached the end you were puffing. Hyunwoo left your side, walking backwards so there was some distance between you. He then encouraged you to return to his side, watching you intently.

You don’t know what came over you then. Walking back to him felt as if you were making your way towards someone you craved. You walked with purpose, pushing the weight through the water with more ease this time. You were determined to get back to his side, your gaze never faltering from his. You gasped softly when he held out his arms as you near him, seemingly as permission for this moment to exist between you both.

And just as you almost reached your goal, you lost your footing somehow, your leg slipping out from beneath you, the weight you were holding tipping you further forward. Before you could save yourself, Hyunwoo was there, fully wrapped around you, holding you flush to his body.

For a moment, all you could hear was each of your heavy breathing from the incident. And then he swallowed, his mouth near your ear. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Sure?”

“Mm.”

“Are you scared?”

“Only of you,” you admitted slowly, despite clinging onto him firmly. Hyunwoo tentatively pulled back so he could look you in the eyes.

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“It is?”

He nodded honestly. “I could get fired for the thoughts I have in my head right now.”

“There’s no security cameras in here, right?”

“No, but why wo-”

Your lips on his cut the sentence short, the tension snapping between you passionately. You hadn’t realised just how long it had been building, how long you had craved a moment like this with Hyunwoo. You had blurred the lines between therapist and patient long before this moment though.

And it wasn’t just you.

Hyunwoo was kissing you back with just as much need, his hunger overwhelming you. Backing you up slowly into the side of the pool, he finally pulled away, reaching to grip onto the bar gently pressing into your back to steady himself.

“That shouldn’t have happened.”

“I know,” you replied dazedly, watching Hyunwoo attempt to rein in his evident desire. You smiled weakly. “We’re coming to the end of my sessions soon, right? So I guess it’s not as if you have to feel-”

It was him cutting you off now with a kiss, groaning into as he caressed your lips. Sliding your hands up his chest, you joined them behind his neck, leaning away from the bar and into him completely.

You knew this was breaking several medical practices, for sure. Yet you couldn’t pull back, wanting to taste more of Hyunwoo the longer his lips were on yours.

Reality called you both back from the heady embrace when his stopwatch beeped to let him know the new hour had arrived. Jerking away from you, Hyunwoo instantly ran a hand through his hair. “Wow uh, we need to wrap up here.”

“You must have other clients to work on,” you mentioned and caught his startled look. Shaking your head and hands you laughed awkwardly. “Not like this, I mean, I hope not but-”

“No, only you. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

You disliked how easily that made your heart leap about with delight to hear. Still, Hyunwoo looked panicked and you could tell he was overthinking the moment the longer he stood in the pool.

Heading towards the ramp, he stopped and then backtracked to your side. “Here, let me help you out.”

“I can hold the bar.”

“Right, you should hold the bar.” You both made it out of the pool and Hyunwoo made a beeline for his towel. “I’ll get you to make an appointment for next week. We’ll give the pool a skip, okay?”

“Of course.”

“See you then,” he said as he walked through the door quickly.

You sat down slowly, looking back at the pool before you. It wasn’t the heated water that had caused your mind to run away with you.

You didn’t quite know how you would face him next time.

Deciding not to cancel your appointment as you had convinced yourself all weekend long to do, you turned up on Monday to the hospital clinic, waiting for Hyunwoo to call you in for your session. Instead, a young woman called out your name and you felt your hopes crash immediately. Had he really avoided you like this?

After asking about Hyunwoo, the woman who introduced herself as Beth shook her head. “Hyunwoo’s off sick. He never gets unwell, so it’s a first. He sounded awful on the phone earlier.”

“Really?” you replied, worry etched within your eyes. “I hope he’s going to be okay.”

“He should be, he’s a healthy guy usually! Anyway, shall we start our session?”

You worried about Hyunwoo for the next two days in between your sessions, hoping that today you would see him back in the clinic.

He was there, though he still looked pale. As soon as he ushered you into a cubicle, you went to reach out to feel his forehead, stopping midway. What were you thinking?! You had told yourself you wouldn’t make him any further awkward in your presence than you had a week ago.

He chuckled weakly. “I’m okay, honest.”

“You look awful.”

“I didn’t want you to worry about me any further than you no doubt were,” he admitted quietly and you merely stared back at him. Hyunwoo sighed and looked at your chart. “This is your last week of physiotherapy here. I still think you need some extra sessions so I’ll give you a leaflet at the end of today’s session with approved private clinics who will take you on as a patient with a surcharge. It’s not too much and you’d only need weekly sessions. But let’s talk about that later.”

“You came in to say goodbye,” you concluded, dropping your head. What did you expect? The other day was a slip up between a professional and his patient. Even you knew the logistics behind it.

“Shall we start on our training today?” Hyunwoo asked, clapping his hands together to try and energise you both. It didn’t work, and by the end of the time together you were equally distracted and quiet.

You didn’t know how to thank him for his time and generosity. Even if you had kissed him and given into your feelings for him, you could still recognise he was great at his profession.

And now, your time with him had come to an end.

“Thank you, Hyunwoo,” you managed to say, looking down at his sneakers, knowing you’d cry if you looked up. “I’m grateful for your help with my injury. I’ll ensure to continue with therapy until it’s back to normal.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Is our session up?”

“We have five minutes left,” he replied and you nodded, reaching down for your bag.

“I think we can end it here. Thank you again.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You couldn’t stop there; you knew the tears were going to spill down your cheeks any second now. You chided yourself for falling trap to them, watching as they ran down your cheeks through the mirror in the bathroom you darted into after leaving the department. Allowing yourself a few minutes to acknowledge the ache in your chest, you then gathered yourself back up, dabbing away your tear stains and stepped out of the bathroom.

Promptly into a waiting Hyunwoo. He relaxed visibly, scratching at his head as he smiled weakly. “I was right to wait here then.”

“Did you forget something?”

“Technically I could have looked in your file for it but I figured I’ve already broken enough rules that I should ask you instead.”

“Ask me about what?”

“Your number. Please.”

You merely stared at him, processing what he said. Jarringly, you reached for the phone he held out and punched in your number. Were you dreaming just now? Hyunwoo chewed on his bottom lip, trying to curb some of his satisfaction in gaining your personal information. And then he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Well, you were definitely not dreaming. Snapping your stunned gaze to his face, you watched him grin shyly. “Can I ring you tonight?”

“Really?”

“If you’re busy, then I can wait but-”

“I’ll be free after five.”

“I’ll ring you at six,” he confirmed with a giddy smile, feeling yourself mirror the expression. He waved you off with a laugh.

When six arrived, you jumped as the phone you held went off right on time. You waited a moment as not to seem as if you hadn’t just spent the last thirty minutes staring at the screen or anything.

“Hello?”

“Y/N? It’s Hyunwoo here.”

“Hyunwoo,” you called, trying not to giggle happily. “Are you sure this is appropriate? You won’t get in any trouble?”

“I closed your file today so you’re officially no longer my patient.”

“What am I then?”

“Yeah, that’s the culprit.”

“Well, I have a confession to make,” he said with a quick breath and you frowned. “I might have looked at something I shouldn’t have before I closed your file. Is this the same welcome mat that tripped you up on that fateful morning?”

Getting up with a start from your couch, you dashed to the front door and opened it, finding Hyunwoo kicking gently at the mat under his feet. He looked up at you and grinned, still holding the phone up to his ear. “Is it?”

“I hope it’s alright, but I brought a replacement one,” he mentioned as he ended the call, lifting the bag he held up and shaking it. You laughed and he grinned. “The salesperson said this one is so heavy duty that it won’t even move in a storm.”

“What about you? Will you move in a storm?”

“Only into your arms to comfort you, I hope.”

“Want to come in?”

“Are you sure you want to let your therapist in? I might find all the flaws within your home that could injure you and want to fix them all,” he admitted and you stepped aside to welcome him inside.

But before you shut the door, you leaned down and grabbed the welcome mat, throwing it down into the garden bed where you had fallen last. Smiling brightly, you then turned to Hyunwoo. “Have you eaten? I could make us some dinner.”

“I’ve been dying to try your food ever since you told me about that party you threw for your family two weeks ago.”

“You might think I’m a horrible cook, I had help then,” you pointed out and Hyunwoo followed you down the hallway, leaving the new mat by the door and expressing that you have help in him right now.

You hoped that he would keep showing up on your doorstep like this.

_________________

Next: Wonho

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kyber-kisses · 4 years

Text

Out Cold

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: sick!reader, some cursing, Dean being a big softie

Summary: after a particularly harsh hunt, the reader returns to the bunker worse than when she left. Dean goes into mother hen mode.

A/n: I know there are about a million fics like this already, but I’m a sucker for em, so I wrote one myself. I hope y’all enjoy! (Gif credit goes to owner.)

“Dean, would you please keep your eyes on the road?” Sam sighed, shifting once more in the backseat as he glanced between You and Dean. The younger brother having been generous enough to let you take his normal seat on the way back from the hunt.

“I’m sorry, but don’t you think this whole thing is weird?” Dean motioned with his freehand at the figure next to him.

“That she’s sitting up front?”

“No!” He quickly shook his head, “She’s asleep. Y/n never sleeps in the car. Ever.”

Sam sunk back in his seat, rolling his eyes, “We just finished up a massive hunt. She’s probably tired, Dean.”

“But I’m telling you, she never sleeps during drives. Even when she is tired.” Taking his eyes away from the road once more, he looked back over at you, your head resting against the window. Even in your unconscious state, your eyebrows were furrowed almost like you were in pain, and your skin looked a shade paler than normal. You mumbled in your sleep, shifting to try and find a more comfortable position.

Yes, something was not right.

“When she wakes up, I’ll ask her.” Dean sighed, eyes going back to the road, his concern clear on his face, allowing Sam to see it in the rear view mirror.

Dean was always worrying about you though. There was nothing new about that.

*. *. *. *. *.

You were out cold for the remainder of the drive, which only allowed Deans worry to grow. Sam passed out eventually, leaving Dean in total silence as he drove the final stretch back to the bunker, the clock on the dashboard telling him it was close to one in the morning. The almost orange glow of the passing street lamps illuminating your face as he drove down the empty streets of Lebanon. The only noise coming from the engine and the soft drone of the radio turned down low.

You always said this was your favorite time. The world was quiet and peaceful. It was one of the reasons you always stayed up during drives. You liked watching the chaotic world fizzle out and get replaced with this dark serenity. But for once, you were unconscious and missing it.

Eventually the wheels of the impala rolled into the bunkers garage and the vehicle was put into park and turned off, the normal hum of the engine now gone and replaced with total silence. The change being enough to shake Sam awake.

“She still out?” He yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he sat upright.

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, pocketing his keys as he turned to look at you. In proper lighting, he could now see how pale you really looked, along with the thin layer of sweat coating your skin. “Just go to bed. I’ll take care of her.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

There was a moment of silence before the familiar click of the door opening, Sam sliding out of the backseat with his duffel and lazily making his way into the depths of the bunker. It wasn’t long after that Dean climbed out of his seat, walking around the hood of the car to open your door.

At the sound, you shifted again, slightly opening your eyes to quickly see where you were. The only thing catching your hazy thoughts was the set of green eyes looking at you with worry.

“Are we home?” You mumbled, still trying to chase the sleep that was settled heavy over you.

“Yeah, we’re home.” Dean smiled, squatting down to your level, “how you feeling?”

“tired.”

The hunter shifted on the balls of his feet, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead, “Jeez, y/n. You’re burning up.”

You let out a yawn, eyes closing as you leaned into his touch, his skin so much cooler than your own. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, try again.” Dean huffed, bringing his hand back down to his side, “you’re sick.”

“Mmm no I’m not.”

Dean let out another sigh. It was like talking to a brick wall. “Yes you are. Luckily, you have me though.” He smiled, standing up slightly so he could tuck his arm underneath you, hoisting you out of the vehicle and into his arms, earning a groan of protest from you.

He took his time carrying you down the hallway , trying not to jostle you around too much as you did tend to let out a whine every time he did. He could feel the heat from your skin through his shirt, your head resting in the crook of his neck. You felt so fragile in his arms, like one false move would make you crumble.

Pushing his back against your slightly ajar door, he stepped into the dark of your room, using one of his elbows to flip the switch. Luckily the heat had been turned off while you were all away from the bunker, leaving your room much cooler than normal. Hopefully that would somewhat help cool you down.

“You just had to go and get sick, didn’t you?” He sighed, being as gentle as possible as he laid you down on the bed.

“Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad. It just hurts me to see you like this.” He smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes, feeling the heat radiating off your skin as he did.

“You should go to bed. You’ve been driving for hours and it’s past one in the morning.” You mumbled.

“Yeah, that’s not happening. We need to get that fever down. Plus, I’m not tired. I’ll get my four hours eventually.”

“If I wasn’t so weak, I would hit you.” You sighed, shifting your head on the pillow as you closed your eyes.

“Oh, I know you would.” Dean chuckled, squeezing your hand, “I’ll be right back.”

With that, he gave you one last look and departed from your room, disappearing down the dimly lit hallway.

Dean Winchester never ceased to amaze you. He usually gives off a tough exterior, but deep down he was just a big softie. You loved that about him. You never asked him to take care of you, but he always did. There weren’t proper words for how thankful you were for him.

It was only a few minutes later that he returned, a bottle of water and container of ibuprofen gripped in his hands, along with a neatly folded washcloth.

“Alright, sit up.” He sighed, the bed dipping under his weight as he sat down, passing over the water before unscrewing the lid and fishing out a couple pills. You gave him a small thank you, swallowing them down with a generous gulp of water. Another wave of dizziness worked over you, making you lean back with a groan.

“I’m dying aren't I?”

“You’re not dying. Now stop being dramatic.” Dean sighed, leaning forward to press the cool cloth to your head.

“You must like being a mother hen a lot.” You groaned, hand going to rest atop Deans, which still held the cloth to your forehead.

“I do not!” He exclaimed, only to pause, shoulders dropping, “fine, it’s like crack to me.”

“I knew it.” You smiled, sending him a small wink.

“Alright, shut it.” Taking the bottle back off your nightstand he handed it over once more, “You need to keep drinking. We gotta keep you hydrated.”

“I don’t wanna.”

Deans head fell back as he let out a groan, “You're a damn child, you know that?”

“Yes.” You smiled, taking the water bottle from his hand and taking a few more sips. Even if Dean had just sent you a small smile, you could see the worry on his features. Lowering the bottle from your lips, you set it back down. “You don’t need to worry, Dean. I’m just a little sick. Happens to the best of us.”

“I can’t help it. I’m always worrying about you.” He admitted slowly, taking your hand and pressing a firm kiss to it.

You felt your heart skip in your chest at his action, and then the added heat growing to your face. He was so gentle. So caring. And no matter how long you had known him, it still amazed you.

When Dean saw the redness creeping up your cheeks, his worry continued to grow. “Woah, are you getting worse?” He questioned, peeling the cloth from you forehead and replacing it with the back of his hand.

You quickly slapped his hand away, instantly regretting it once you saw the hurt expression he was wearing. “I’m sorry. I -“

“No. Don’t apologize. I’ve been bothering you since we got back. Hell, I woke you up.” Dean shook his head, hands falling to his side in defeat. “I was just trying to help.”

“I know, but let me just apologize. I didn’t mean to smack your hand away like that. I just freaked out when I realized you made me blush.”

You watched his expression change, his eyebrows knitting together, “what did I do exactly to make you blush?” He mused, giving you a small grin.

Damn him. Damn him and his big green eyes and childish grin. He was going to be the death of you.

“I’ve said too much already.” You groaned, taking the extra pillow besides you and pressing it over your face, hiding your new found embarrassment. Your plan didn’t last long, because you heard him let out a light chuckle, his fingers wrapping around the pillow and prying it from your face.

“Oh, don’t go hiding from me now. I still gotta take care of my patient.” He smiled, giving you that soft gaze that always made you feel like a pile of goo.

And then the bastard had the audacity to lean down and press a firm yet gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away, his calloused hand resting on the side of your face making you shiver.

“You cold?”

All you could do was nod, still rendered speechless and scarlet from his gentleness. He pushed off from his seat on the bed, picking up your legs so he could pull your comforter over your now shivering body. You couldn’t help the whine that escaped you as he did. Your muscles still ached and every little bit of movement had you feeling nauseous.

“I know, I know. Just bear with me Sweetheart.” Dean sighed, sitting back down once the comforter was tucked snugly around you.

“You’re a fucking great human being, you know that?” You yawned, nestling deeper into you comforter in hopes of getting warmer.

“I try.” Dean smiled, kicking off his boots and discarding his jacket as you laid down next to you, gently wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

“Dean, you’re gonna get sick if you stay.” You mumbled, finding it impossible to not curl into the warmth he was giving you. You didn’t want him to get sick.

But he was so warm. . . And he smelled so good.

“I don’t care. You’re stuck with me.” He sighed, closing his eyes once he was comfortable, “now go to sleep. You need rest.”

“Okay, but if you get sick, both Sam and I are gonna beat your ass.” You yawned again, tucking your head against his chest as sleep quickly found you once more.

*. *. *. *. *.

Sam has to do a double take the next morning as he walked past your open door, which was usually always closed. Shifting the books that were in his hand, he backtracked, tilting his head in confusion as looked into your room.

The lights were still on, but both you and Dean were out cold. His brother was wrapped tightly in your comforter, shivering even in his unconscious state while you were sprawled out next to him, having kicked off the sheets in the middle of the night.

In simple words: you both looked like crap.

The younger Winchester let out a sigh, rubbing his face, “So it looks like I’m gonna have to take care of both of you now, huh?”

He should have known this would happen. When it came down to you and him, Dean couldn’t help but go into full mother hen mode. . . and unfortunately that sometimes resulted in the idiot going and getting himself in the same exact mess.

The End.

SPN Taglist: (Still open)

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @neerness @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox @horrorstreet

#dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot #dean x reader #dean x y/n #SPN #spn x reader #spn x y/n #spn imagine #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #bi-danvers0 #bi-danvers writing

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patchoulimademoiselle · 4 years

Text

Guilty. (Part 8.)

Part Eight.

Steve Rogers (Lawyer AU) x Reader Insert.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: NONE. Tony is a bit of an asshole to Steve. Morgan is precious, and not to be dramatic or anything but Y/n would die for her.

Notes: This series is just about half way done!

Masterlist.

Part Eight:

"You sound miserable. Does you're boyfriend know that you're calling me?" Much to your annoyance, Tony's voice is like a breath of fresh air. "What do you want?"

You hate that he can see through you before you can get out more than a greeting. You're leaning over your desk, legs crossed at the ankle, a little notepad in front of you just in case. You have Wanda in the corner sorting files, a bored expression on her face, and you almost feel guilty for keeping her so distant from real work.

You still aren't sure what to do with her, knowing that he brother is actively working against your case, you can't bring yourself to include her in anything that's actually constructive. It's cruel, seeing her in a position that you were in years ago, knowing that you're stunting her development on purpose.

"No one knows, actually." You say. "Can we meet? I can't say this over the phone."

Wanda's eyes float over to you, just for a second, but long enough for you to catch.

She's watching you.

"At noon." He says. "Bringing Natasha? Sorry, Pep will want to prepare something."

"Maybe." You nod, because it works out. You were planning to speak with her anyway. "If I can convince Rogers, will you let him come?"

You hear his heavy sigh, "If you can convince him." He agrees, and the smile that coats your face would have been priceless if he could have seen it.

He hangs up before you can say anything in reply, and you're starting to get used to it. He reminds you of Steve in a way, gruff, to the point, never one to beat around the bush unless there's a reason to.

You send Steve a text, telling him about your meet with Tony at twelve, and while you wait, you text Natasha, asking her to tag along. Her response is immediate, which tells you that she's either bored or missing you, and it lightens your mood to know that you might be able to consider her a friend after all of this is over.

You pack up your files and your notes, as discreetly as possible, but either way, it brings Wanda to the front of your desk, hands clasped in front of her.

"Are you doing this on purpose?"

The question makes your blood run cold, because you don't know what to say to her. You haven't talked to Steve about it any further, and you don't want to give anything away that you shouldn't.

So you do your best to smile, glancing up at her, "Doing what?"

"Being distant." It sucks, because you see yourself in her, young and eager to please, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No," You stop to face her, "This case is just more taxing than I thought it would be." You admit. "I'm sorry that it seems as if I'm neglecting you as my assistant."

You nods, "Let me help. Those files are years old, they'll be up for shredding, I know you're just trying to keep me out of the way." She says, and it burns you that she's too clever for her own good. "Let me help."

"You're not ready." You feel an old sense of yourself shatter at your own words, Steve's stern guidance passed on to you. "Maybe the next one, we're up against something too risky to get you involved."

You hope she understands, you hope that she won't take it personal and will accept your decision. But you recognize the determination in her eyes, the need to prove herself, and you know it will be better to just keep her away.

"Take a couple days off." You say, "Let this blow over."

She says nothing, and so you continue to pack up your work. "Go home."

You know that you may have broken something inside her, or maybe you fed her the right thing, giving her a new sense of drive to work harder for what she wants. Either way, it will come back to bite you in the ass one day soon, you just can't focus on it right now.

Maybe you weren't ready for an assistant yet after all. The timing is wrong, you're working on one of the biggest cases of your career, too busy to teach her anything useful.

She's silent as she packs her bag, leaving your office feeling cold at her abrupt exit. Steve comes in soon after, "What's wrong with her?"

You shake your head, "I'll tell you later. Did you see my text?"

He nods, coming to stop in front of your desk, hands in his pockets. He's cleaned up, hair slicked back and dark with gel, a fresh suit and a crisp tie pressed up to his neck. He still looks tired, he still looks like he's been run over by a car, and you hope that the orgasm you gave him this morning will help him sleep tonight.

Maybe you can give him another before the day is out.

"Yeah, I saw it." He says. "I'm not going."

You suck your teeth, "Why not?"

"I don't need to." He says. "Take your girlfriend instead."

You hum, "I am taking her. I'm going to ask her to testify. But I need you to be on the same page as me. We can cover everything all at once."

He rocks back on his heels, teasing you in a way. "Yeah? Kill two birds with one stone? Is that it?"

Your glare makes him smile. "I'm being serious. If he's going to testify, and you're leading the case, you need to both be on the same page." You say. "Stop using me as your messenger."

He leans over your desk, pressing his palms flat on the surface. "I think someone still has an attitude." He says. "What happened?"

It's beyond annoying that he can see through your moods. It's like you can't have anything that isn't consumed by him. Your thoughts, your emotions, he knows it all. it's suffocating.

"I need a cigarette."

You fish through your bag for one, and a lighter, pushing past him to head for the balcony.

He snorts, following after you. "And a drink."

The rain has stopped, leaving the air feeling crisp and fresh against your face when you step outside, the city below you once again bustling with life. Steve's hands are warm as they find yours, taking the pack of cigarettes from you. He gets one out, places it between your lips, cupping your face to light it for you. Then he takes on for himself.

"I see myself in her, I see you in me." You say, "I'm keeping her at a distance for reasons that she doesn't understand."

He chuckles, leaning against the railing to look at you. "Sounds like you alright." He says. "She'll understand one day, just like you understand now. Most importantly, she might not even realize her brother is working against us. Or what if she does?"

If she does, she has no right to be upset. But you can understand either way. Family over everything, if Steve has asked you to betray someone, you would probably do it in a heart beat, justice be damned. We all have that one person, a weakness, someone you would burn for without a care in the world for the consequences.

"If she does, then she's made her choice and will face the consequences." You say over a cloud of smoke. "I don't blame her, but she can't come anywhere near this case."

He breathes heavily, flicking his cigarette, ash falling between you. "Why do you take it all so personally?"

"Because it is personal." Your words hold a weight that you didn't know they had. "I didn't sign up for this shit. I didn't know that I would constantly be risking everything just to get nothing."

He reaches for your hand, and you take it, enjoying the comfort of his touch.

"Let's go away."

You laugh, breathless and in disbelief.

"I mean it." He says. "After this, let's take a vacation, make good on that promise I made you."

The promise to finally be yours.

"If you're joking, this is cruel, even for you." But you don't pull your hand away, taking a step towards him. "But if you aren't, then I say you let me pick the location."

He smiles at that, cigarette dangling between his lips as he pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. You can practically hear the gears turning in his head, planning a way to blow the bonus you're probably both going to get for winning this case. If you win the case.

Being able to be together without fear of exposure, without constantly looking over your shoulder or worrying about your credibility. You don't want this to turn into a scandal.

You finish your cigarette, prying yourself free of his grip. You leave him to have a second one, packing up your bag. When he joins you, he dangles his car keys in front of your face, plucking up the old cup of coffee of your desk.

You watch as he sniffs it, taking a testing sip before he takes it to the face.

"No," You push his keys away, pulling out your own. "We're getting Natasha, remember?"

He hums, pocketing his keys, setting down the now empty cup. "Fine. We stopping for food?"

"No." You give him your car keys, heading for the door. "There will be something there for us."

He swears under his breath, trailing behind you as you leave the room, stopping to watch you lock the door behind you.

"Remember to behave." You warn.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

You decide to let him drive, his focus on the wheel and not on the stunning red head who climbs into the back seat of your car. She greets you both with a perfect smile, lips lined in a dark shade of lipstick, chunky sunglasses high on her nose, and you can tell by the way she rubs her temples that she's hung over, and terrible at hiding it.

You offer her you travel sized bottle of Ibuprofen, and she thanks you with a sigh of relief, telling you she had run out and forgotten to grab more.

It makes you wonder if you'll ever have a life like that again, drinking wine at all hours of the day, your biggest worries being forgetting to write something on your grocery list. Natasha was smart to get out, and a part of you feels guilty for dragging her right back into it.

But she doesn't complain, simply observing both you and Steve from the back seat. It's not until you arrive at Tony's home address that she speaks.

"So, you two worked it out?" She asks, attention directed at Steve more so than you. But you answer anyway.

"Something like that."

Steve's eyes narrow, and you don't miss the smile that spreads across her lips. "You took my advice."

You nod, eyes shifting to Steve. "Remember what we talked about. Behave. Pepper is a sweetheart, and Tony is risking a lot to work with us. You do well to keep that in mind when you step inside his home."

Nothing has changed between you, you're still a bit indifferent, this morning changed nothing. You can tell by the way his lip twitches that he wants to retaliate, say something, do something to shift the narrative, to give him even just a little bit of control. But he yields, at your mercy, giving a curt nod and nothing else before parking the car and getting out.

Natasha gives you an impressed look, plucking her shades from her face, passing you your Ibuprofen back. "By the balls indeed." She bites her lip. "You're hot when you take control."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Don't start." You say. "This is serious."

She sighs, preparing herself, face switching to one of unforgiving professionalism. "Yes, it is."

Together, the three of you ascend the step to the front porch, you knock gently, and after a few seconds Pepper opens the door to greet you. She smiles, letting you inside. "Welcome, good to see you both again. I'm glad the weather cleared up a bit." Then her eyes fall on Steve. "Mr. Rogers, a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise."

"I think Tony is out back, I'm almost done preparing lunch." She says. "You can wait here in the living room if you'd like. Can I get anyone something to drink. Tea? If I remember correctly?"

"Please." Natasha places her hand on the woman's arm. "Thank you."

"I'll have a lemon water, if you don't mind." Steve nods.

"Also tea, please."

You settle in the living room, admiring the decor. It's spotless, and you aren't sure if that's because of Pepper or hired help. Either way, it feels homey, pictures placed on the table beside the couch, a fireplace under the hanging tv, the rug under your feet woven wit neutral tones.

"This isn't what I expected." Steve admits, loosening his tie, settling back on the couch next to you.

"There's a lot about Tony that I didn't expect." You say, glancing at Natasha. "He's not so bad."

"No, he's not." She agrees. "Now before he comes in here, care on filling me in?"

You clear your throat, tugging on your skirt. "I'm going to ask you both to testify in court, then Steve is going to present his case to you." You shrug. "Practice makes perfect."

She hums, crossing her legs at her ankles. "I was afraid of this." She says, "But I'm far too bored to say no. With Tony on our side, there's nothing to fear."

She's too smart to get pinned either way, whatever she was afraid of Tony exposing isn't a threat anymore, not with her on his side and helping him. It's Tony that you're worried about. He doesn't want to be apart of it, that's why he gave you everything on Zeke Stane in the first place. He wanted it to be clear that this had nothing to do with him, he wanted his name cleared. Now here you are in his home, about to ask him to do the complete opposite.

That's why you lawyer'd up, so to speak. You brought both Natasha and Steve, two well educated law students, certified lawyers, who won't miss a single perspective on whatever is about to happen here.

A small shriek of laughter, a little girl comes running into the living room. She stops dead when she sees you three sitting there, suddenly nervous.

Tony appears behind her, forehead covered in a sheen of sweat, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Morgan, these are some of my friends." As he speaks, she looks back at him. "Don't be shy, say hello."

She waves, a small smile on her face, and you decide then and there that you're obsessed with her. She looks just like Tony, brown hair framing her chubby cheeks, no doubt too smart for her own good. She's well behaved, you can tell in the way she stands and waits for instruction, looking back at her father.

"Join mom in the kitchen?" He lets out a puff of air, patting the top of her head as she walks by. The smile on his face is sweet, he's proud of her, you imagine she's the reason he wants this lifestyle. A quiet neighborhood, a small home compared to what he could afford, a simple and discrete life where she can grow up happy and unbothered.

You don't blame him.

"Well," He says, plopping on the couch next to Natasha, "The gang's all here. What's up?" His eyes are on Steve specifically.

"You know what I'm about to ask you."

"And you know my answer." He counters, glancing up as Pepper walks in with a tray of your drinks.

She sets them on the coffee table in front of you, and you thank her as you reach for the tea she prepared for you. It almost surprises you that she doesn't leave the room, moving to stand behind Tony on the couch. Morgan trials after her, clinging to her legs.

"In order to win this case, we have to deconstruct the opposing argument." You say. "Our defense won't make sense unless we discredit theirs."

Tony hums, eyes still not on you as he leans forward.

"Isn't he leading the case? A bit problematic if he isn't allowed to speak." Tony says, and finally, he looks at you, a twinkle in his eyes. "What's the punishment? A week with no sex if he mouths off?" Tony Stark truly is too smart for his own good. He lets out a low whistle. "You've got a tight leash on him."

You can feel the anger radiating in Steve, his presence beside you feels hot, his eyes slitting to a glare.

"Tony, with all due respect." You sigh, pausing to take a sip of your tea. "He is the man leading your case, maybe you should ease up on the wise cracks and consider working with us rather than trying to shake the tree."

"I just want to see what else shakes loose." He says, "I already know your dirty little secret."

It's then that Pepper hits him, hand falling to his shoulder. "Anthony, show some decency. They're our guests, and they're trying to help."

He sighs, eyes pinching shut. Natasha smirks, "Perhaps you're on a tight leash too, Stark?" She reaches for her tea. "I'm going to do it, it makes no sense for you not to. If you say your peace in court things will go in your favor. Why not let the words come from your own mouth?"

It's then that Steve speaks up, leaning forward, "We have one of your former employees to back our case, and now your former lawyer." He gestures to Natasha. "All you have to do is ice the cake."

He groans, leaning back against the couch, eyes closed as he shrugs his shoulders.

He has his reasons, you can see the conflict within him, the struggle between being a father and a business man, a family man and a celebrity in the public eye.

"Fine. Just tell me how you're going to lead, and what I need to say."

You watch as Steve shifts into lawyer mode. He unbuttons his suit jacket, stands in the middle of the room, and lays out his entire argument for you all to hear. Brock Rumlow will testify first, then Natasha, then Tony. Of course each person will be cross examined by Zeke's team, which is expected. But as everyone's truth is laid out for the court room to hear, you expect it to be enough to convince the ruling in your favor.

It goes better than you thought, the hostility easily broken as Steve is allowed to express his confidence and ability in the court room. You trust that things will run smoothly when the time comes, you trust that the people around you will rise to the task at hand, and you have a peace of mind when the visit turns more casual, business out of the way. You all sit on the back porch in the shade, a picnic table unfolded in front of you, a variety of cold cut sandwich placed delicately on a spread with fruits and cheeses.

Pepper is a dear, and you wonder what he life must have been like before Tony.

A question for another time, as the sun get a bit lower in the sky, well into the afternoon, Natasha decides it's time to go, claiming to have plans for the evening. You aren't sure if she actually does or not, but you know that you've overstayed your welcome when Morgan starts to squirm.

"I'll walk you out." Tony offers, standing.

Pepper stands as well. "I'll clean up. Thank you all for stopping by."

You watch as Morgan tugs on her mother's sleeve, Pepper bends to hear her. "Mommy, what's sex?" You watch as Pepper's expression turns to one of horror, turning to glare at Tony.

Time to take your leave.

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

Guilty Masterlist.

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#morgan stark #steve rogers au #steve rogers x reader #lawyer au #lawyer steve rogers #avengers au #avengers fanfiction #queque

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maviemesregles · 5 years

Text

Once I was an Eagle

[ Okay, so I don’t even know why I’m posting this since I have only two followers and I’ve never uploaded any of my fanfics before, but I feel like I’m ready to share a story with the readers. I have no beta, I’m also not a native speaker so I presume there might be mistakes but I thought let’s try, see if at least somebody likes it. I love writing and this story definitely would continue no matter if anyone reads it or not.

* This is Modern AU (Outlander) Claire x Jamie

* Mature content is on the way (definitely)

* This story is about established relationships with flashbacks

* Angst. Yep, angst. But dinna fash, some fluff will be there (of course)

So if you’re willing to take a risk and read this attempt at writing Outlander fanfiction then buckle up for a long journey :) ]

________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 1: The beginnings

It was the little things that Jamie loved about Claire. Small, perhaps, insignificant things in the eyes of strangers, but they created her, bits and pieces of the way she was.

The way she was cursing under her breath 'Fuck' and 'Jesus H.Roosvelt Christ' whenever she found herself annoyed, stressed or angry.

The way she was getting ready for work - always organized, calm and quiet.

The way she always mumbled her sleepy 'thank you' to him for the cup of steaming coffee he'd make her in the weekends, her face still slightly puffy and creased from a deep sleep.

The way her unruly mass of hair made something steer deep inside his belly, wanting to cradle her into his laps and hold there forever.

It was the way she would laugh so hard that she snorts and he would follow her, laughing as well, till his eyes water.

The way she smelled after the shift at the hospital, sterile and clean, with a slight scent of her perfume (musk and honeycomb), which imprinted on the bedsheets forever in their bedroom.

The way she sighed and came alive under his touch in the darkness of the night, stilling everything around them.

The way she would snuggle next to him on the couch, pressing her body into his, almost curling into a ball, covering them with a quilt, falling asleep sometime later lulled by the noise of TV they'd watch.

The way she would get annoyed at their cat Adso for biting off the wee herbs she planted on their kitchen windowsill, deep crease appearing between her perfectly shaped eyebrows as she made a hissing 'shush' sound.

Quiet rustling of the sheets on his left made Jamie open one eye, abandoning his thoughts as he watched her silhouette sitting down, her long arms rising to the air and then slightly behind her head, as she stretched muscles, shaking off the remnants of her sleep.

Normally he would run his hand on the expanses on her back, letting her know he's awake. Claire tended never to wake him up knowing he had troubles sleeping. But now he silently watched her, his mind registering all the things she did in the room (pulling her sleeping t-shirt over her head that had been discarded to the floor evening before as they made love, her feet making the wooden floor squeak on the way to the hall, where she would switch IKEA stand lamp, never using the table one on her side, worrying the light might wake Jamie, he would hear the bathroom door softly closing and the water running, as she took shower for five minutes strictly, later she would curse quietly trying to find a fresh pair of knickers in the drawer)

All those things Jamie knew by heart, that was swelling with the feeling, he thought it would burst. Same little things that made him like her, want her, love her. The things that had imprinted upon his heart since the first time they met.

* * *

I knew that Geillis's idea of weekends getaway to Highlands would not end very well and I was bloody right. I grimaced at the loud sound of a car door closing when we finally stopped, the loud thump made my headache harder, and I moaned reaching for the second Ibuprofen pill in my purse.

" Ye ken, yer face looks like chicken arse like that?" Geillis clicked her tongue, the car keys ring swinging in loops around her slender finger (she was my long-time friend from college, who despite her reckless character was an exceptional pharmacist).

" Yer never get laid with that look, love" She unceremoniously grabbed me by the elbow, marching towards colorful market stands. " Let's get some food, I'm starvin'".

I mumbled incoherent 'mmmmh' not being able to move my dry tongue. Hangovers started to catch up with me in my late 20s and with each year it got worse and my drinking less and less harmful. A dram or two of the whisky, couple of gin tonics, or maybe red wine was fine but student-like parties were big No for me so now I regretted very much our yesterdays late night activities. Walking from pub to pub, mixing up all alcoholic drinks imaginable, eating greasy kebab on the street and staying up till 4am did not do me much good. I was dying, listing each step of alcohol intoxication in my head when Geilli interrupted me by suggesting to go to the local farm market for some fresh groceries. Though any mention of food made my mouth water with bitter saliva, my stomach growled at the prospect of fresh bread, eggs, and some ripe vegetables, along with a strong cup of coffee.

So now we were heading towards noisy farmers of Lallybroch (the name I had troubles pronouncing, apparently, as Geillis made fun of me every time I said it).

With each passing stand of colorful fruit and veggies, various types of pastry, fresh meat, and fish, Geillis's backpack was filling with the promise of our breakfast, my eyes stumbled upon a bright blue van with bold letters saying " Coffee, tea and homemade biscuits". Hoping that fresh roasted black liquid will make me feel less awful I tugged my ginger-haired friend on the sleeve, pointing to the van. With her approval and request ( cappuccino with double espresso shot, soy milk) I wiggled between mass of people, the glance of my look ( tangled hair in a top knot, treating to escape the elastic band, raccoon dark circles under my eyes, chapped lips, oversized jogging pants, tucked into old Uggs, and Geillis's beige parka) reflected in the puddle as I finally stood in front of the van, inhaling rich coffee aroma. Feeling a bit more cheerful, with two paper cups warming my cold fingers, I turned to head back.

As my nose bumped into a soft woolen coat that smelled slightly of hay and something else I could not recall, I felt my eyes began to water at the impact of my face meeting a broad chest and through my blurry sight I saw rainbow of vegetables running away from the fabric bag that said ' Take me with you, I am eco-friendly!'.

I cursed (louder than intended to) and tried to sniff, feeling snotty now.

" Jesus. H.Roosevelt Christ! I think I've broken my nose". I blinked twice when my eyes finally could focus on the obstacle on my way.

"Nay, lass. When ye break yer nose it makes this nasty crunchy sound and ye bleed like a pig. Yer fine". He said to me, inhaling swiftly, lips curling into an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I didna mean to hurt ye though".

I shot him a look that probably made him feel even more confused as his cheeks blushed deep pink, almost matching his red hair. I sighed and then my attention returned to his discarded tote bag. Not wishing to create more tension with a stranger, I bent, wanting to collect his groceries. That moment he decided to do the same and leaning at the same time, he punched my side with his elbow, by accident of course, but my hand shifted, coffee spilling on the cream-colored fabric of Geillis parka.

" Oh, fuck." I growled, now feeling really annoyed. Someone from behind called " Uncle Jamie!" stealing his attention from the brown stain on my coat and before he could apologize again, I raised my hand and mumbled " I'm fine" walked away followed by his guilty gaze.

Later that day I felt slightly guilty by snapping at this Jamie, thinking that hangover clouded my better judgment but soon enough forgot about it until the Thursday evening. I was just changing into my clothes, getting ready for home, when Joe opened a door. " Claire, just this last patient, nothing hard, he needs stitches. Please?" I sighed but nodded, remembering that he had a booked restaurant for a dinner with his wife. Then James Fraser stepped in.

#outlander #fanfic #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #outlander fanfic #angst #modern au #outlander fanfiction #once i was an eagle #*sweats nervously*#just a wee chapter #omg

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argylemnwrites · 4 years

Text

Getaway

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x MC (Cassie Vanderfield)

Book: Open Heart (about 5 months after the end of Book 1)

Word Count: ~1000

Rating: PG

Summary: Bryce and Cassie’s weekend trip to Cape Cod didn’t exactly turn out as planned

Author’s Note: The last of my very late Autumn prompts, renting a cabin! This one was requested by @octobereighth way too long ago, but I’ve finally delivered! Trying to be efficient here and also use this for day 14 for 41 Days of Cheer (travel) because I live by myself and therefore feel no shame with a little double dipping!

“Stop hogging all the blankets,” Cassie moaned as she tugged at the fleece currently spread across the center of the bed.

Bryce opened his mouth to retort, but it hurt too much to speak. His throat felt raw and burning, like hundreds of little scalpels were being dragged along his pharynx. He wanted another cough drop, but they were all the way in the bathroom, and the ten feet between the bed and the sink might as well be ten miles for how far away it felt.

This was not how Bryce had pictured this weekend going when he’d suggested to Cassie that the two of them rent a cabin on Cape Cod for a long weekend as a mini getaway after Cassie mentioned having to go from August to April without a week of vacation. But between trying to avoid the insanity of summer costs on the Cape and conflicting rotation schedules, they hadn’t been able to get out there until November.

The cold weather would have been bad enough, but Bryce was confident they would have been able to adapt, find ways to enjoy themselves in spite of the biting winds and gloomy skies. What they hadn’t counted on was an early influenza season. And while being in the OR for his trauma call rotation meant that Bryce always got to wear a mask around patients, Cassie was in the ED this block. Of course, they’d both gotten their flu shots this year, but as they’d informed patients countless times, the flu vaccine didn’t provide perfect protection. This year, they were both in the unlucky camp.

Cassie had warned him that she’d had some chills and rigors a couple of days before they were set to leave, offered to cancel and steer far clear of him, but Bryce had blown off her concerns, convinced that she was just imagining that she’d caught influenza when it was far more likely that she’d contracted some other, less severe virus. He had clearly been very wrong.

So, instead of a romantic getaway in a little cabin for 4 days, 3 nights, they were instead both miserable, aching, febrile, congested, and just plain gross-feeling. They were paying $145 a night to lay around in bed, buried under every blanket they could find in the rental. If Bryce wasn’t so exhausted, he might have been more annoyed by that fact, but all he could find the energy to do was to roll over before falling back asleep.

Bryce drifted off at some point, even though it was the middle of the afternoon. Between the flu and his weird sleep schedule on his current rotation, falling asleep during the day was very easy. Eventually, he woke up shivering, reaching to tug some of the blankets back from Cassie, but finding her half of the bed empty.

“Cassie?” he croaked out, his voice raspy, dry, and distorted.

A few seconds later, Cassie shuffled around the corner, wrapped in a blanket and carrying a glass of water. “Here’s your Tamiflu,” she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper as she set the glass of water and a couple of pills on the bedside table, “and some ibuprofen.”

Bryce picked up the orange and white capsule, but left the three red tablets on the nightstand, shaking his head, “I don’t need ibuprofen.”

“Bryce, you have a fever.”

“I know. The fever is an evolutionary advantage that helps the human body fight off viral infections. I’m not going to purposely undo that.”

“Fine, be miserable.”

“Fevers are only uncomfortable as you are spiking one. Once you reach your new-” Bryce countered, but he was cut off as Cassie let out a miserable groan.

“Enough, enough,” she said, crawling back under the covers on her side of the bed, mumbling something about “doctors” and “terrible patients.” Bryce took a sip of water to take the Tamiflu, noticing that Cassie hadn’t bothered to unwrap the blanket she’d been wearing as a cape as he did so.

“You planning on sharing that blanket?” he asked as he set down the glass of water and grabbed his phone in exchange.

“No,” she answered matter-of-factly before rolling to face him.

Bryce just stared at her for a moment, but when she raised her eyebrows defiantly, he knew how he had to respond. Mustering all his energy, he flung his body over to her side of the bed, wrapping his arms around her and grabbing at the blanket.

“Bryce!” she rasped out, wheezing out a few chuckles at his sudden move. Unfortunately for them both, the blanket somehow ended up on the floor in the midst of it all. “Now look what you’ve done,” she said, her tone much more playful than her words, wrapping her arms around his neck as they settled into a loose cuddle.

“Gross, you’re all clammy,” she added with another couple of weak giggles.

“One, you are just and gross and clammy as me. Two, this situation is one hundred percent your fault, so you’re gonna help me pick out a restaurant for dinner.”

“Bryce, you’re insane if you think I’m leaving this cabin.”

He just shook his head, holding up his phone, “Delivery, Cassie. I don’t plan on letting you leave this bed.”

Normally, an innuendo like that would lead to some flirting back and forth before things escalated, but given the circumstances, Bryce was glad to draw a genuine laugh from Cassie, even though it did trigger a bit of a coughing fit. Sure, this was probably no one’s idea of a good weekend trip, but it could be a lot worse. At the end of the day, most trips were more about the company than the destination, anyway.

Tags @mfackenthal @lilyofchoices @thequeenchoices @octobereighth @feartheendlesssummer @tallulahshh @fortunatelywaywardsandwich @dreaming-of-movies @choicesarehard @universallypizzataco @omgjasminesimone @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl @jlpplays1-41daysofcheerchallenge

#bryce lahela #bryce x mc #41daysofcheer #open heart #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction #oph #choices #playchoices #choices stories you play

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hopeisour4letteredword · 4 years

Text

look through your textbook (cause i’m history) ch1

Content warnings: implied/referenced domestic violence

Summary: After dropping out, Yuri’s life is a haze of working and trying not to lose his damn mind. Then he meets Estelle.

Read it here or check the notes for the link to AO3.

It’s late—too late, the community center isn’t supposed to be open at this hour—and there’s a crying young woman with blood on her face holding Yuri’s hand in both of her own.

Yuri really wishes he could say it’s the first and last time this will happen to him. Unfortunately, it’s neither.

“P-please,” the woman stammers. Tears streak down her cheeks, right through the abrasion that mars her cheekbone. Ouch. That must sting. “Please, I just—I can c-clean myself up, I just need a—a first aid kit and, and a place to spend the night—“

“This is a community center, not a shelter,” Yuri says, as gently as he can to soften the blow. Her lower lip trembles. “Hey, none of that. I can help with getting you cleaned up, and when you calm down a little bit we can think together about where to put you up for the night. Alright?”

“Th-thank you so much—“

Yuri waves his free hand dismissively. He fishes through his pockets for his keys so he can unlock the front door.

“Ladies first,” he says, using his captive hand to guide her inside. She sniffles valiantly, releasing his hand and inching inside the dark building. Yuri steps in after her, locking the door behind himself, and flicks on the lights. She flinches away from the sudden glare. “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s n-not your fault.”

“The first aid kit is in the staff room. If you want, you can wait right here—”

“I’m sorry, I d-don’t want to be alone, s-sorry—“

“Hey, you’re fine, that’s cool. Come on, then.”

They troop through the main community room. Yuri kicks in chairs that didn’t get pushed all the way back to their tables at the end of the day. That’s what Hanks gets for letting Ted help close up for the night. At least the kiddie zone got picked up so they won’t slip on any errant toy trains. The young woman flinches with every creaky floorboard and groaning pipe. Poor lady. This isn’t exactly a new building. There’s a lot of those noises.

Yuri unlocks the staff room, and this time has the presence of mind to warn her, “Lights going on.”

“Thank you....”

“So what I need you to do for me is to sit down and try to keep your hair back while I patch you up. Sound good?”

“You don’t—don’t have to—“

“Yeah, but I’m gonna, so quit trying to tell me what to do. Hair back.”

She obediently sinks into one of the shitty folding chairs Hanks keeps in the staff room. Shaking fingers hold her pink hair away from her face. Yuri sits down on an adjacent chair and tries to touch the abrasion as little as possible while he moves away some stray strands that she missed. She trembles, but doesn’t make a peep.

“Okay, what I’ve got here is hydrogen peroxide—“ He shows her the bottle. “And I’m just gonna pour some onto these cotton pads and wipe your scrapes down with it. It’ll sting like a motherfucker, but then it’ll be over with.”

“O-okay.”

“Chin up. You got this.” He holds her face steady while he makes the first pass. She still jerks back so hard that he almost gets her in the eye with the soaked cotton pad. “Whoa there.”

“I’m s-so sorry—!”

“Shit happens. Ready for the next try?”

“Ye-yes....”

Her jaw clenches under his fingers. She whimpers a little when the pad touches her cheek, but doesn’t move. What a trooper.

“There you go. One more pass, okay? We don’t want shit stuck in there when it heals up.”

She nods, firmly, and barely winces with the last pass. Yuri tosses the bloody cotton into the trash and reaches back into the first aid kit.

“Any other scrapes?”

“My—my knuckles.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see ‘em.” Yuri swipes them down with one pass. They’re not nearly as bad as her face. “You know Neosporin?”

“N-no.”

“Really? Damn. Well, it’s just antibiotic goop. Shouldn’t hurt as much as the last stuff.” She watches as he spreads some onto a gauze pad. “I’m gonna tape this to your face. Little weird having tape on your face, but in my personal experience, better than having an open bloody wound.”

“Y-yuck.”

“That’s the spirit.” He carefully tapes the gauze in place. Luckily, the scrape isn’t too big. Plenty of room to put the tape down without catching her eyelashes or the hair framing her face. He pops open a box of finger bandages and goops up a few to patch over the worst of her knuckles. “All set. We have some pain meds here, too. Want any? I got ibuprofen, naproxen, Tylenol...”

“Can I... ibuprofen.”

“All yours.” Yuri slides her the bottle and rises from his chair to search the cabinets. Where’s the goddamn cups? Oh, hell, that’s right. Hanks moved all of the cups to the kitchen. There’s only mugs in the staff room now. He grabs a “#1 GRANDPA” mug. “Lemme get you some water for that.”

He passes it off to her. She slips a pill into her mouth and drinks it down. Both hands lock around the mug when she lowers it, and she stares down into the leftover water, trembling.

“You cold?”

“H-huh? Oh. Um. A little.”

Yuri opens and closes a few more cabinet doors before he finds Hanks’s old high school letterman jacket neatly folded and stashed. Evidently the blankets they used to keep in here have been relocated, too. “We’ve got this. Might smell a little like mothballs, though.”

“That’s—that’s fine.”

Yuri drapes the jacket over her shoulders. She hunkers down under it without putting her arms through the sleeves.

“Do you want, like. Tea? We got tea, I think. In the kitchen. Not sure what kinds. I’m not really a tea person. I’m a heathen, I drink black coffee because chugging bitter sludge makes me feel like a badass.” She makes a hiccupping noise that’s something like a laugh. “There we go. Feeling a little better?”

“Yes. Thank you—so much. Really.”

“Well, I couldn’t just leave you there.” He scratches at his chin. “I’m gonna need you to get a head start on thinking about where to spend the night. I have to remember why I came here in the first place.”

“Oh, no, I’m s—“

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” What did he come here for? He tips his head back, staring at the ceiling. He was home for the evening... bartending ended early tonight... he had already walked Repede... oh, shit. That’s right. “I’m going into the kitchen anyway, so seriously, do you want tea?”

“N-no, thank you.”

“Okay, your call.”

She still scrambles to her feet and follows him, so close that he keeps waiting for her to step on his heels. He’s not gonna be the jackass that tells her off, though.

“I just want to preface this by saying I’m an amateur chef, not a serial killer, and you can hold onto the knife until we go our separate ways if me having it freaks you out,” Yuri tells her, as he turns on the kitchen light. She gives him a horrified look, mouthing knife? He goes to the sink. The meat cleaver is exactly where he thought it would be. He can always trust Hanks and Ted to leave his good knives someplace where they rust and get covered in gross shit. He grabs a scrubber sponge and wipes it down, one side then the other, before drying it and bundling it into a dish cloth.

He offers the bundle to the young lady. She shakes her head, quickly. The mug is still tightly clasped in both hands.

“Why is y-your knife here?”

“I lent it to them,” Yuri says. “To the staff here, I mean. Well, I’m also staff, sometimes, but that’s not the point. They had a few whole chickens to prepare today, and someone made off with their old cleaver a couple weeks ago.”

“That was. Nice of you.”

“Sure, I guess.” Yuri tucks the knife bundle under one arm and leans back against the counter, considering her. Her hair is pulled back with an ornate clasp, aside from the bangs that drape over her abraded cheek. Under Hanks’s jacket, she’s wearing a fancy dress, something sleek and silky and blue that pools around her feet. It is, predictably, covered in dirt, dead leaves and grass stains up to knee-height. Her face is wan, with big, sad green eyes. A bruise is starting to mottle her cheek around the scrape. The very image of an abused socialite. “Can I get your name?”

“I’m...I’m Estellise.”

Yuri whistles. “That’s a mouthful.”

“I g-guess so.”

“How do you feel about ‘Estelle’?”

“Es...Estelle?” She perks up a bit. The moue of her lips twitches up just a little. “That’s nice. I like that.”

“Alright, sweet. So, Estelle. I’m Yuri. Do you want to tell me how you ended up here at one in the morning with your face all banged up?”

Estelle looks back down into the mug. “...Do I have to?”

“Nah.”

“Wha—I don’t?”

“Nope. It’s not really my business. I mean, I can make some pretty educated guesses, but you don’t technically need to tell me anything.”

“O-oh.”

“I can just straight-up ask what I really need to. You want me to take you to a domestic abuse women’s shelter?”

“I—“ The mug shakes in her hands. “I d-don’t count.”

“You don’t count?”

“It’s n-not like that. I c-couldn’t—I couldn’t take that space from someone who really n-needed it.”

Yuri sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Uh... I guess you would know your situation better than I would. How about... no offense, but I have no idea how old you are. Are you a very fancy teenager? Should I be thinking more along the lines of children’s shelters?”

“No. I’m eighteen.”

“God, you are a fancy teenager.”

She laughs a little, but it’s hysterical. “Y-yes.”

“I guess... shit. I’m just stuck on women’s shelters. You really don’t want to go? You sure? I can find a lady to drive you if you aren’t comfortable with—“

“N-no! It’s not you. Y-you’re fine.”

“Do you want...did you come here to find Hanks? I can call Hanks.”

“Who’s H-Hanks?”

“Oookay, that answers that question... Not gonna lie, I’m kind of confused about what you want.”

Estelle makes a miserable noise. “I am too.”

Yuri takes a hard look at her. The scrape on her face isn’t so bad she’s bleeding through the gauze right away, and her hands aren’t fucked up too badly. Definitely not a hospital situation. Poor girl probably doesn’t have the money on her to deal with the hospital right now, anyway. The way she’s acting, he’s pretty damn sure there’s some kind of abuse at play, but she doesn’t want to go to the women’s shelter. She’s too old for programs targeted at children. So what exactly is Yuri supposed to do with her?

...Fuck it. He’s tired, she’s tired, he’s overdue for his next scruffy stray. “Look, if you’re comfortable with it, you can come to my place for the night. I’ve got a one-bedroom, not a studio, so you can take the bedroom and lock me out if that makes you feel safer. I can sleep on the couch.”

“I c-couldn’t—!”

“Sure you could. I’ve slept on the couch for stupider reasons.”

“But—“

“If you’re scared, we can call somebody you trust and tell them where you are, so you’ve got witnesses if I decide to murder you.”

“I don’t think you’re going to murder me,” she says, scrunching up her nose at him and then wincing when it pulls at her cheek. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Okay, but I don’t care,” Yuri says. “So I don’t think it really counts as imposing. I’m going to text Hanks—he’s the director of the community center, by the way—that I have a very sad young lady staying at my apartment tonight, so that the next time you ask a total stranger for shelter, you think of that and remember to have some degree of self-preservation.”

“Y-you don’t have to—“

“Yeah, yeah. Oh, minor detail—are you allergic to dogs?”

As it turns out, Estelle is not allergic to dogs, but it’s possible that dogs are allergic to her.

“He’s like that sometimes,” Yuri says, absentmindedly, while Repede staunchly ignores Estelle’s attempts to make friends with him.

“He isn’t friendly?”

When Yuri glances over his shoulder, she’s staring back at him with sad, disappointed eyes. She kneels beside Repede on the floor, bundled into spare clothes Yuri dug out of the community center’s storage for her. Wearing second-hand clothes, making undignified kissy noises at his dog, she looks much younger than she did at the community center. The pouty face she’s making at Repede probably isn’t doing her any favors in the maturity department either.

“He’s not so hot about strangers. Seriously, don’t take it personally.” He gives the chicken soup one last stir. Cooking at 2AM isn’t his favorite, but it is, unfortunately, a frequent occurrence nonetheless. “Alright, there’s soup if you want any.”

She accepts a bowl, but waits until Yuri has his own. She watches and copies him as he lifts it to face-level, carefully blowing across the surface, and drinks some of the broth. He almost snorts some back up laughing when her eyes go wide, and she visibly tries to swish the hot broth around her mouth to cool it.

“You have to blow like you mean it.”

“I don’t want to spill!”

“Just don’t burn yourself.”

Yuri has a table, because he isn’t a complete disaster. He and Estelle stand around next to the stove anyway, slurping soup directly out of the bowls. When the broth-to-solids ratio declines enough, they break out the spoons.

“You’re a really good cook,” Estelle says, sounding wistful. “I wish I could make stuff like this.”

“Keep in touch with me when you get your feet back under you and maybe I can teach you someday.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Thank you!”

Once they’ve drained their bowls, Yuri does a lick-and-spit clean-up job on the kitchen while Estelle does a circuit of his living room, snooping through his stuff. He hears her pause over the rush of the tap and doesn’t think anything of it until she ventures to say, “Is... is this Flynn? Flynn Scifo?”

“Probably,” Yuri says. He cranks the faucet off and turns to see what she’s looking at. It’s the picture Coach Niren took of the two of them at their first fencing tournament. Yuri’s still got the last chub of baby fat rounding out his cheeks, and he’s laughing with delight over some stupid shit Flynn had said. Flynn grins back at him, gangly and awkward with adolescence. He has his arm thrown aroun d Yuri’s shoulders. He looks like a damn puppy; he still needs to grow into his limbs. Yuri would die before he told anybody, but it’s one of his favorite pictures. Flynn was grouchy as shit in high school. Every smile Yuri could wrangle out of him was a privilege. “Yeah, that’s Flynn. You know him?”

“Yes... He’s, um, a student of my guardian’s.”

“Your guardian works at the university, then?”

Estelle fidgets a bit, wringing her hands. “Yes....”

Yuri mentally stores her nervous response for later discussion. He can give her a break at ass o’ clock in the morning. “You and Flynn get on well?”

“Yes! He’s very well-read. We talk about books together.”

“Ah, nerd club. Of course. Sounds just like him.”

“Are you...” Estelle glances over at him. “You know, I didn’t think of it until I saw this picture, but I think he’s mentioned you. Yuri? You’re his best friend, aren’t you?”

Yuri doesn’t answer her for a moment because he’s too startled by the fact that Flynn is, apparently, still calling Yuri his best friend even though they haven’t seen each other in a year and almost got in a fistfight last time they ran into each other. Not that Yuri doesn’t also still consider Flynn his best friend, but, like. Standards, Flynn. Have some. “Huh. Yeah.”

A shy smile spreads over her face. “You’re just like he described you.”

“Oh, geez. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll try to be on my best behavior from here out.”

“What are you talking about? There’s nothing wrong with your behavior.”

Yuri stares at her again. “...I think we’re having two different conversations. How does Flynn describe me? Because I assumed he told you I was a pain in the ass.”

“What? No! He said you’ve got a big heart and you always try to help others.”

This is too much for Yuri to deal with at 2AM in front of a stranger. Or friend of a friend, apparently. Dammit. It’s always Flynn.

“Well, um. He did also say you were trouble.”

Oh, thank God, stable ground. “That sounds more like it. Come on, I’ll lend you some pajamas. We should both get to sleep. In the morning—like the real morning, not the fake morning right now—we can go back to the community center and talk to Hanks about your options.”

A week later, Estelle is still in his apartment. Yuri thinks she’s starting to grow on him. Not like a fungus, because Estelle is one of the only people he’s ever met that he would wholeheartedly describe as lovely. Terribly naive, mind-bogglingly sheltered, but lovely. So maybe like some kind of nice moss or something? He’s lost the trail of this metaphor.

He has bartending in the evening, these days, but when he’s at the community center in the mornings he tries to give her his attention. She seems overwhelmed by all the things she needs to find solutions for: housing, income, banking, emergency medical care... At least a few of those, he can help with. Hanks is a bigger asset. He’s got a lifetime of experience with helping uprooted young adults. Yuri is happy to put Estelle up for as long as it takes them to sort her shit out.

Still, he does sort of wonder if he’s gotten ahead of himself when Hanks texts him asking to talk to him and Estelle in private at his house. Hanks is usually fine with having personal conversations at the community center. Whatever he has to say must be serious.

“Should we have brought him something?” Estelle asks, a little nervously. She’s wearing clothes loaned from one of Yuri’s coworkers with Hanks’s jacket thrown over them. The ol d man refused to take it back from her when they met, and she’s barely taken it off since. She throws herself into hand-me-downs with an eagerness Yuri wouldn’t have expected, given her clothes the night they met.

“What? No. Why would we bring him something?”

“Well, you’re supposed to give your host a gift when you visit someone, aren’t you? Like a bottle of wine?”

“I know you grew up in the fancy rich high society life or some shit, but this is the Lower Quarter, princess. We don’t have the money for that kind of etiquette here. The only ‘wine’ Hanks is getting is the kind that comes out of my mouth.”

Estelle laughs quietly as Yuri knocks on the door and then shoves it open without waiting for a response.

“I’m in the kitchen,” Hanks calls, gruffly. Yuri shepherds Estelle in the right direction. Hanks has his back to them as he puts the finishing touches on a couple bowls of salad.

“Wow, breaking out the fresh vegetables for us and everything.”

“Someone has to make sure you kids get vitamins,” Hanks says, without looking up. He offers one of the bowls to Estelle. She peers into it curiously. “Spinach, bacon, cucumbers, and cherry tomatoes. I’ve got salad dressing in the fridge if you want some.”

“Yes, please,” Estelle says. Hanks waves her toward the small kitchen table while he goes to the fridge.

“Both of you have a seat. Estelle, what kind of dressing do you want?”

“Um. I’ll have whatever Yuri’s having.”

“Don’t let Yuri be your role model for everything,” Hanks warns her, even as he passes her the Italian dressing. “He’s a troublemaker.”

“I think he’s nice,” Estelle mumbles.

“You poor, misguided soul,” Yuri says. He takes the bottle from her when she’s done. “Hanks, you needed something from us?”

Hanks eases himself down into a chair across from them, groaning the whole way. The stubborn old man is going to hurt himself one of these days if he doesn’t give in and get a cane. “I did. Well, there’s not really a good way to get into this. Here. Take a look.”

He takes a piece of paper out of his breast pocket and unfolds it, dropping it on the table in front of them. It’s a flyer, the kind small local businesses will have on community boards or that gets slapped up on light posts on the street. It reads:

MISSING PERSON: ESTELLISE SIDOS HEURASSEIN

LAST SEEN AT ZAPHIAS UNIVERSITY, NEAR MEDICAL SCHOOL

18 YEARS OLD; 5’5” TALL; PINK HAIR AND GREEN EYES

CONTACT ZPD [(XXX) XXX-XXXX] OR DEAN ALEXEI DINOIA [ [email protected] ] WITH INFORMATION. REWARD IF FOUND.

In the middle of the page is a poor-quality, grainy picture of Estelle. It’s water-stained, with the colors distorted so that her face is barely recognizable. Yuri’s not convinced he would recognize her if he didn’t already know who it was. The flyer must have been outside. Along the bottom are tear-off tabs with the police number and the Dean’s email on them. Yuri recognizes the domain; it’s the official university mail service, so it must be the Dean’s professional email. It seems like an odd choice for a missing person ad. Looks like a few tabs have been taken.

Yuri glances sideways at Estelle. She stares down at the flyer, pale and scared like Yuri hasn’t seen her since their first encounter. They just stopped gooping up the scrape, so it’s scabbing over now , and the bruising has turned a sickly green as it heals.

“I...” She swallows, hard, putting her fork down. “I don’t...”

“Listen,” Hanks says, with a sigh. “I’m not about to turn you in. I don’t think Yuri will, either.”

“Fuck, no.”

“But I can’t promise nobody in the Lower Quarter will. Folks here are hurting for cash. Someone who sees you at the community center might take them up on it, even if they aren’t proud of it, so they can put food on the table.”

“...Yes. I understand.”

Hanks scratches at his beard. “I guess all I’m askin’ is that you think about stopping by the police station yourself. I don’t want Yuri to get charged with kidnapping.”

That makes Estelle jerk her head up, eyes wide. “Yuri could get in trouble?”

“Sure. He’s been on the wrong side of the law before—“

“The tweedles deserved to get pushed into the canal, you know that—“

“I do, son, but the police still weren’t none too happy about it. They aren’t much fond of him, and now he’s got a missing person stashed in his apartment. Ain’t a hard case to make.”

“But he’s not making me stay there!”

Hanks shrugs. “They could argue coercion if they get a bee in their bonnet. That’s why I’m suggesting you stop by the police station yourself, to let them know that you left under your own will and you aren’t missing. It doesn’t mean you have to go back to your old life. The community’s happy to help you figure something else out, like we have been.”

Estelle wrings her hands under the table. She looks down at the flyer again.

“I don’t want to go back,” she says, voice small.

“I’m telling you, you don’t have to.”

“If I talk to the police, they’ll make me go back.”

“You’re eighteen,” Yuri says. “You can go wherever the hell you want. They can’t make you go back if you don’t want to.”

“Will you come with me? To the police station?”

“Probably not a good idea,” Hanks says. “Remember, we want to show them that you’re staying in the Lower Quarter under your own free will.”

“I can still drive you there and wait nearby, though,” Yuri says. “I’ll hang out in a parking lot or something. Just scream real loud and I’ll come grab you.”

“Don’t scream unless you have no other choice, the police don’t like that.”

“Who cares what the police like? If they try to mess with you, break their eardrums.”

“Yuri, for God’s sake, don’t get the poor girl in trouble.”

Estelle giggles a little, high and anxious. The smile slides back off her face quickly, though. “I can... can I still stay with you? After I talk to the police?”

“Sure.”

“Really? I promise I’ll—I’ll stop by the bank, and get a new account set up. Then I can try to find a job and pay you b—“

“Estelle, chill. There’s no rush.”

“But—!”

“We’ll get it sorted out. Might take a bit, but we’ll get you there. You don’t need to freak out.”

“I just—“ Estelle sniffles a bit. Oh, God, no. No crying. Please no more crying. Yuri is terrible at comforting people. “You’ve been so kind, both of you, and I haven’t even told you anything and you’re still helping me, and I feel so bad, and—“

Yuri fidgets with a lock of his own hair. “I mean. This isn’t exactly a huge mystery. You’ve got big bruises on your face and you don’t want to go back somewhere. I might not have a fancy education, but I can put two and two together.”

“I... I guess that’s...”

“We don’t really need more information than that. Anyway, you’re a friend of Flynn’s. He would kick my ass if he found out I didn’t look out for you.”

“But you offered to let me stay with you before you knew—“

Hanks reaches across the table to pat her shoulder. “Don’t bother, miss. Let Yuri believe the rest of us think he’s a tough guy. We all know he’s really a big softie.”

Yuri splutters indignantly. “Hey!”

“He climbs trees to get children’s cats down for them,” Hanks stage-whispers to Estelle. She giggles, more genuinely this time. Yuri would be pleased if it weren’t at his goddamn expense.

“One time! Was I just supposed to leave Ted’s cat stranded?! He had a broken leg!”

“One time? Son, you’ve done that twice in the last year.”

“Tell Ted to get a better cat! I swear, next time I’m leaving the damn thing up there.”

“Yesterday,” Estelle tells Hanks, solemnly, wiping a tear away from the corner of her eye, “He held two babies for a busy mom. At once.”

Hanks chortles. Yuri groans, aggrieved. “I changed my mind, you can’t stay with me. You’re a menace.”

“No, no. You’re right, we can’t risk Flynn’s wrath. The young lady is here to stay.”

Estelle catches Yuri’s eye again and gives him that small, shy smile again. Yuri shakes his head, fond despite himself. He returns a wry smile. Of course she’s staying. He never should have expected anything different. On some level, he thinks he didn’t.

“Alright, princess. I guess I’m stuck with you.”

“I’m in your care!”

#fluri #yuri lowell #Estellise Sidos Heurassein #tales of vesperia #Feeling Pretty Good About the Trouble That I’m In #flynn isnt here but yuri Pines #long post

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thereluctantinquisitor · 4 years

Note

❝ I’ll pay for your [meal/coffee/groceries/etc] ! ❞ for modern darrus? :))

Okay so I used the prompt for inspiration but didn’t really incorporate the exact quote, so… don’t sue me!

–

“I, ah… just a second. Hold on.”

Cyrus could feel his cheeks heating up as he frantically dug through his wallet, checking every card slot for a loose coin. Despite what felt like desperate tunnel-vision on his fumbling hands, he was hyper-aware of the line behind him, other people’s groceries already lined up on the belt, fingers thrumming along the handles of shopping carts. God, this wasn’t happening. This wasn’t fucking happening. He’d find something. He had to have something lying around…

Glancing up at the unimpressed cashier, he swore softly to himself, tossing his wallet on the narrow counter and digging through his pockets. His fingertips brushed paper, and fora second he allowed himself to hope, but he just pulled out an old receipt, crinkled beyond recognition, stained slightly blue from his jeans. He threw that on the counter too, his heart hammering in his chest because he was at the front of the fucking line and he’d been rummaging for over a minute and people were watching.

The cashier cleared his throat. “Sir, do you need to—”

— “No, I don’t.” In truth, Cyrus had no idea what the guy was even planning to suggest. Use his phone to pay? Go to an ATM? Yeah, sorry buddy, neither option was going to make this shit any better. He must have spent the last of his money on gas, and his paycheck wasn’t coming in for another five days.

Fuuuuck.

He glanced at the bag of groceries. It wasn’t even enough that he could pretend he had just got carried away and over-shopped. It was basic shit - water, a couple of cans of spaghetti, alcohol wipes, bread. That sort of thing. Someone coughed behind him in the line and Cyrus felt the last of his resolve waver and crumble to dust.

“Just… forget it,” he muttered, snatching his empty wallet off the counter and shoving it back into his pocket. “I don’t—”

— “Hey, there you are!”

A loud voice interrupted Cyrus’ living nightmare. He turned to see a tall blond man working his way through the line, smiling sunnily, murmuring ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ as he wove his way towards…

… him.

“Phew, just made it! Thanks for stalling. Forgot which checkout you went to.” He winked at Cyrus and placed a small pack of ibuprofen on the counter. “Don’t you just hate it when you remember something at the last minute?” He seemed to direct the comment to the cashier before turning to commiserate with the person next in line. Apparently the plight was universal, as both laughed quietly and nodded, as though partaking in some kind of inside joke. Still smiling, the blond turned back to the cashier, slipping a bill out of his wallet. “Anyway, really sorry for the hold up. How much?”

The rest of the transaction passed in something of a blur. The stranger paid for… well, everything. All the irritation Cyrus had sensed from the people around him before seemed to give way into a strange kind of exasperated amusement as the blond gave the line a final apologetic wave, scooping up the grocery bag and nodding his head towards the door. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Uh… sure.” In truth, Cyrus had no fucking idea what to do. The guy had his groceries. Well, more like commandeered his groceries. He could just take them, really. They were technically his. As the blond moved towards the automatic doors Cyrus found himself following like a lost puppy, although without the requisite enthusiasm. It was wariness that kept him a few paces behind the man, his attention on the bag swinging absently by his side.

What was he up to?

They paused once they were near the edge of the carpark, near a cafe in the process of recovering from the afternoon rush. The tall man turned, smiled again, then seemed to realise with a start that he was still holding the bag. “Oh! Here - sorry. These are yours.”

Cyrus just stared at the bag, then glanced back up at the blond. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He waggled the bag, the paper crackling as it swayed. “But I did, so… you might as well take them.”

Every fiber of Cyrus’ being wanted to tell him to keep them. That he didn’t need them. But the empty pit in his stomach was a constant reminder that he wasn’t in any position to skip another meal. Shit, he’d salivated over canned spaghetti.

So he took the bag.

“Thanks,” he murmured, then cleared his throat. “Look, I don’t have a lot right now, but I can pay you back. Just… I don’t know. Tell me a place to meet you next week.”

The blond seemed taken aback by the suggestion, paused, then broke into a bright smile. “Hey, I’m more than happy to meet up with you next week, but I don’t want you to pay me back or anything. Just… think of it as a favour.”

Cyrus shook his head. Mostly in disbelief. “A favour?” he repeated. “I don’t even know you.”

“Oh! Right.” The blond immediately held out his hand. “Darren Miller.”

Feeling like he was constantly on the back foot and racing to catch up, Cyrus shook his hand on instinct. “Uh… Cyrus.”

“Nice to meet you!” His grip was firm. If anything, it lingered a little longer than Cyrus was used to but… not necessarily in a bad way. He wasn’t really sure how to explain it. When Darren did let go, it was with a kind of amused half-smile that did something strange to Cyrus’ chest. “There,” he continued with a satisfied nod. “Now we know each other.”

“Not really…” Letting his hand drop to his side, Cyrus tried to salvage some remnant of his pride. “Listen, I was serious about paying you back. I don’t just take money from people.”

Darren cocked his head, a lock of his blond hair flopping from one side to the other. “You didn’t. I gave it to you.” He shrugged. “Besides, someone paid for mine once. It’s kinda like… ugh, what’s that thing from that movie? With the kid and the assignment…?”

Cyrus quirked a brow at the man. “Pay it forward?”

It was, apparently, the correct answer. Darren’s face lit up and he nodded excitedly. “Yeah! Wow, I haven’t seen that in so long…”

“It was… kind of a downer. From memory.” Cyrus didn’t remember much of it - only that he cried at the end. But he was a kid at the time, which meant there was probably nothing to really cry over.

“Yeah, I cried so hard at the end.” Darren laughed as Cyrus watched him, wondering if the tall man could read his mind somehow. “But then again, I cry in most movies. And some ads. Have you seen that Thai life insurance ad? It’s so…” Something about Cyrus’ expression must have finally registered because Darren trailed off and, for the first time, a pink flush crept up his neck and onto his cheeks. “I’m… rambling, aren’t I?”

Despite himself, Cyrus gave a snort of amusement. “Yeah. A little.”

Was it weird that a part of him wanted to add ‘but I don’t mind’?

“Sorry. I do that when I’m nervous. AH, I mean—” For a few seconds, it seemed like Darren was planning to salvage his sentence, but then he just sighed and gave up with a sheepish chuckle. “Just… sorry. I’m not normally this bad.”

Nervous? Why would he be nervous? He’d just sidled through a grocery line like Cyrus’ knight in domestic armour. Shit, Cyrus was going to eat tonight because of him. “No, I… you’re fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Darren favoured him with a grateful look. Then his gaze flicked back down to the small grocery bag and a faint frown creased his brow. “Those… aren’t meant to last you a week, are they?”

Cyrus froze. How did he…?

Right. He said he could pay him back next week. Fuck, why did he even open his big mouth?

“It’s enough,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t need much.”

“Right. Okay then.” Darren was nodding, but there was something about his tone that suggested he didn’t believe the lie. Admittedly, it was a pretty poor one. “Hey, how about instead of meeting up next week, we might up again later tonight?”

Cyrus frowned. “Why?” He already told the guy he wouldn’t have the money until next week.

Again, Darren’s cheeks reddened, and he reached up, scratching his cheek. “I dunno… might be fun? There’s this bar a few blocks away that does open mic Fridays. You get a mix of things - singers and comedians and stuff. It’s always interesting. If you’re, ah… y’know… interested.”

It took a few solid moments before Cyrus realised what was actually happening. “Are you asking me out?”

Darren chuckled, seeming almost relived that Cyrus had at least understood that much. “Trying to! Although I’m getting the feeling I’m not doing a very good job.” He sighed. “Sorry. I don’t really… do this often. If I’m making you uncomfortable just say the word and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“No, you’re… you’re fine.” In truth, Cyrus wasn’t used to being asked out. Picked up? Sure. He cleared his throat, acutely aware of the bag of groceries in his hand. “Look, I want to go with you, but I don’t exactly have the cash for eating out.”

“That’s okay! My idea, my shout. That’s how it works, right?”

Cyrus supposed that was true. Besides, if all else failed, it was a free meal. One that wasn’t from a can. So, he relaxed, regarding Darren for the first time with something other than skepticism. “You know what? Sure. Why not.”

The grin the blond man shone back at him was dazzling - it was like Cyrus had made his whole year in a few simple words. “Seriously? Great! Here, let me give you my number…”

As Darren rummaged around for his phone, Cyrus couldn’t help but shake his head slightly in disbelief. Of all things he expected to happen today, having his groceries paid for and going on a date was the furthest from likely.

But hey, maybe sometimes even he got to catch a break.

#reluctant writes #reluctant replies #darrus #darren miller #cyrus #modern au #meet cute #where cyrus is doing his best to make ends meet #and darren goes from calm and collected to the living embodiment of Gay Panic(TM)#the dawn squad #anonymous

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