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multifandhoem · 4 years

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server collab || ii

Server Collab from the Haikyuu HQ server with the prompt: “Guess I‘ll just have to cum inside you.“

The masterlist for the whole collab is here!

Genre: fluff, smut

Warnings: slight SPOILER (it‘s really really small), smut obviously, little bit of public stuff if you count it as such, slight breeding kink, wedding sex, lot‘s of fluff

Word count: 3292

“I still remember when Iwa-chan told me, how he embarrassed himself in front of a cute girl and hoped he would never see her again to not relive the existential dread he felt at that moment. And then he told me he met her again and she laughed over the mishap and they were going to get coffee next week.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I am so sorry.” His face was red, head bowed down in embarrassment, but you could still see it at the tip of his ears.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t like you were a stalker or something.” You were giggling a bit at the state he was in. “On top of that it is kinda my fault, I should’ve closed the curtains or something.” He slowly raised himself again, face still scrunched up in discomfort. He really looked like he was in horrendous pain and it was kinda your fault. “Please don’t beat yourself up over it. I’ll treat you to coffee, to make you feel better, when are you free?”

Maybe the fact that he was a looker made you act a bit more open towards him than usual, but you genuinely felt bad for him. He was obviously beating himself up over that accident a couple of days ago.

You had realised fast that you could look from your window right into the room on the other side of the street, which was why you invested in curtains pretty early. But apparently, you had forgotten to close them this time, so when you turned around shirtless and made eye contact with a man, you were both equally surprised. He looked mortified and you couldn’t even blink when he suddenly dropped to the floor, now hidden from your wide eyes.

Your body reacted, even though he probably couldn’t see you anymore, shielding your breasts with one arm, the other hastily closing the curtains. After the initial shock wore off you couldn’t help but giggle a bit. Why did he just drop to the floor? He could’ve turned around or something.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

Next to you, Hajime buried his face in his hands, but the large grin that had adorned his face for the whole evening was still there. Tooru waited a bit until the laughter calmed down until he continued.

“When I came back from Argentina for a visit she was already his girlfriend of five months. And when I saw Iwa-chan I knew that she would probably stick around for longer. You know, Iwa-chan is a very violent person-“ “Only towards shitty people!” You knew he couldn’t have let that jab just go by, but Tooru professionally ignored him.

“but with her, he was very soft, always touching her in some way. Sometimes touching too much. Don’t think we forgot the trip to the cabin!” He scoldingly wiggled his finger towards you, accompanied by Makki’s and Mattsun’s affirming but still scandalised shouts.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“We gotta be quick, Haji.” His lips were hot on your collarbones, fingers already dipping under your shirt, quickly pulling it over your head. “I know, they will wonder where we are.”

You had excused yourself for a second from the movie the others had put on. It was the first time this day where there weren’t two other people in the room with you, everybody being huddled in the living room of the small cabin where you resided for the weekend. With two bedrooms shared between the six of you and one big room that functioned as kitchen, living and dining room, there was never space for some alone time, which you were desperate to have after your boyfriend strutted around you shirtless the whole day. It should be illegal for someone as fine as he was to do such things.

Foreplay had to be postponed for the next time, you had little time until the others would grow suspicious. “No need, I can take you.”

You pulled his fingers out of your entrance, desperate to just feel his cock in you. He chuckled at your eagerness, pushing his sweatpants down until his cock sprung free, already hard and leaking. Apparently, you weren’t the only sexually frustrated one.

“Fuck,” you breathed out when he buried himself in you with one stroke.

“Quiet, baby.” His lips found yours stifling your small moans as he began moving his hips.

Breathless gasped and small moans soon filled the room, occasionally accompanied by the sound of skin slapping, when Hajime couldn’t stop his hips before they met yours. “I’m close,” you whimpered as he began rubbing your clit and he shot you a breathless smile and pressed a small kiss to your lips. “Bite something when you come,” he said quietly, thrusts becoming a bit more erratic.

“Disgusting!” Loud banging on the door interrupted you and Hajime let out a string of curses. “If you already know then don’t go interrupting, Shittykawa!” Not having to hide anymore his hips finally snapped into yours, using the full capacity of his strength to make you moan against his shoulder.

Unfortunately, the orgasm you experienced didn’t lessen the embarrassment when you faced the others again.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was your turn to hang your head in shame, trying not to meet your parents’ eyes, who were seated next to you. Or worse, Hajime’s parents.

Tooru chuckled at your misery, before continuing.

“To be honest, I wasn’t that surprised when Iwa-chan called me and told me he would send me pictures of rings and I should help him decide. He obviously forgot timezones since it was 2am for me and I first thought somebody had died, but after promising to make me best man I obviously forgave him.” The guests laughed again and Tooru took a well-rehearsed break.

“I don’t think I have seen Iwa-chan as nervous as when he was rehearsing his proposal through me via Skype. I told him it was good, even though he was a stammering mess. But the thing about those two over there is that they calm each other down. So I knew, when the moment would come, everything would go swimmingly. I saw the way they looked at each other, there was no way she would say no.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“What are you planning?” You were chuckling, when Hajime lead you through the small house on the outskirts of Tokyo you two had purchased together when it was safe that he was staying in Japan with his work. “Let me surprise you, woman, and stop asking.” You could hear the amusement in his voice and it made your heart bloom. After all these years together he still made you feel like you were going on your first date. And he probably always would.

“Small step, be careful.”

You felt the ground changing from the hardwood floor to a rougher and colder one, showing you that you were now outside on the small terrace. You didn’t have to wonder for long, what he was planning when he carefully pulled the blindfold off your face. The first thing you saw was him.

But it was enough. He was smiling at you, his eyes radiating love. You couldn’t help but snaking your arms around his neck, to press a kiss to his lips. “You look so handsome. I love you.”

Hajime in a suit was something you had the pleasure of seeing a couple of times, but it still caught you off guard how someone could look this good.

“You haven’t even looked around, idiot,” He chuckled but still laid his arms around you to tug you towards him to kiss you again. After that he still forced you to turn around, to take a look at what he conjured in the last couple of hours.

The small garden you had behind your house was completely transformed, fairy lights making the faint evening glow even more magical.

“It’s beautiful.” The words were soft, Hajime wouldn’t have heard them if he wasn’t standing this close to you. “All for you, baby. I love you. I just thought, maybe we could sit on the blanket, maybe drink a bit of wine and just talk, you know?” His voice was laced with nervousness, even if he wasn’t even sure why. He knew you would like what he did. He went through your Pinterest boards and they were loaded with fairy lights, clinking classes, kisses shared under the faint glow. “That sounds perfect. What’s the occasion? I haven’t forgotten anything, right?” He laughed out loud at your nervousness. “No, babe, you haven’t. I just wanted to do something for you.”

His smile was so pure, filled with raw emotion, you had to kiss him again, putting as much passion as possible into the kiss. “Thank you, Hajime. I love you so much. I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

Your eyes were a bit wetter than usual and you hastily blinked the tears away, smiling at your boyfriend, ready to have a magical evening.

He really had everything prepared. Next to the blanket, a small cooler with a bottle of rosé laid, together with two glasses for you. His phone played soft instrumental music in the background, as you settled yourself against his chest, occasionally sipping at your wine, reminiscing about the past years, wishing for the future ones.

“Hey, move for a second, my leg’s fallen asleep.” A small tug of his leg under you made you sit up, while he fixed his posture, both of you now sitting upright in front of each other.

“Sorry, about that. Do you want to stand up for a bit to move it?” His eyes twinkled with amusement as he tugged you back down when you already wanted to stand up.

A shaky breath escaped him. So this was it. “Y/N, baby, I love you. So much, you can’t even imagine. You’ve been with me for the past couple of years and I honestly can’t wait for the future, if you’re by my side.” He paused for a second, hand slipping into his pocket. “Hajime.” Tears were already welling up in your eyes before he even managed to pull the ring out of his pocket, that he and Tooru had chosen so diligently a couple months prior.

“Will you marry me?”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Those two, right there, are a great couple if I’ve ever seen one. I actually can’t imagine a better partner for my Iwa-chan. Hajime. I’ve seen you grow up. I’ve been growing up alongside you and, dare I say, we’ve both become pretty great.” Tooru chuckled a bit, but everyone could hear his voice wavering, as his eyes were fixated on his best friend.

“I can’t express how happy I am, to still have you in my life, to now seeing you maturing into this great man who is inspiring others in everything he does. Seeing you enter this new part of your life, with this great woman in my life warms my heart. And you deserve nothing less. A toast to you. A toast to your future, Mr. and Mrs. Iwaizumi.” He raised his glass to you, a big smile on his face.

If he weren’t sitting right across from you, you would’ve missed the small tears rolling down his face. The guests around you all raised their glasses to towards you, everyone touched by Tooru’s speech.

But nobody came close to Hajime, who was clenching your hand in his’ tightly, tears welling up in his eyes, before he strode over to his friend, tightly embracing him.

You couldn’t hear what words were exchanged as tears fell and people smiled at the pair. Every guest at your wedding knew about Hajime and Tooru. The best friends, the best partners, who have been with each other since they were about five years old. Who only see each other every couple of months, partners technically becoming rivals.

When your husband came back to you his eyes were puffy, some tears still escaping, but the happiest smile on his face. Tooru hugged you too, wishing you good luck for your future, making a small joke about becoming an uncle again and telling you, once again, to take care of his best friend, his brother.

“I’m so happy to be your wife.” Hajime kissed you at your words but you still knew that he was equally as happy as you were. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily now,” you joked, relishing in the laughter that escaped him.

“As if I would ever want that. I’m going to put some kids in you as soon as possible. And then we have a little family. Maybe even a big family. Whatever you want.” He kissed you again and you couldn’t help but smile at the picture of him with kids in your head. More importantly, your kids. “About that.” You leaned into his side, grateful for the minutes you had at the edge of the room. “I’ve been thinking, maybe stopping my birth control? I mean we don’t have to start trying and stuff, but we’re married now and we’ve been together for a while, and we talked about it already, and-“ You were cut off with a passionate kiss, Hajime even dipping you slightly as he practically devoured you.

“Do you mean that? Do you really mean that?” You could only nod, a wide grin on your lips as you cupped his face in your hands to bring his mouth to yours again. “Fuck, I love you. I can’t wait to fuck you today.” Heat shot through your stomach at his words and his kisses did nothing to soothe it.

“Hajime.” You really didn’t intend for his name to sound like such a whimper. But when he growled against your lips you knew you were done for. “The bridal room. Where I got ready. Let’s go.”

You felt like a schoolgirl sneaking around again, when you were rushing through the halls of the venue, hand in hand with your new husband, giggling around, until you finally closed the door behind you, being pressed against the same one in an instant, a breathless Hajime resting his forehead against yours.

You were whispering ’I love you’s to each other for the probably thousandths time this day, but it wasn’t like you were growing tired of it anytime soon. “You gotta be careful about the dress, I don’t wanna have cum stains somewhere,” you reminded him as he was flicking up your skirt, already sinking to his knees.

“Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you.” You giggled in excitement at his statement, soon leading into a moan, when he buried his face between your lower lips, thong pulled to the side, his tongue expertly doing all the things he found out about you the years before.

“Fuck, Hajime.” Your fingers thread themselves in his hair, tugging him closer.

He took one of your legs in his hand, tugging it over his shoulder and digging even deeper between your legs, using the fingers of his other hand as well, to insert two of them into your dripping cunt. “Haji, I’m coming,” you whimpered, clamping onto him.

“Wait for my cock.” The years of never neglected training came in handy, when he stood up, with you in his arms, to seat you on the small table, that was probably just in the room for decorating purposes. You shrieked a bit at how fast everything was happening, but you kind of agreed with him.

The first time you should come as husband and wife should be with him deep inside you.

He dropped his suit pants to his ankles and you could feel yourself clench with excitement. “Ready, baby?”

“Yes, please, Haji.” You pulled him towards you again to connect your lips, moaning into his mouth when he rubbed his dick up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal.

It’s weird to explain what you felt the moment he pushed himself inside you. You had sex lots of times. But in that moment you felt more complete than you ever did.

You stayed like that for a couple of seconds, connected in the most intimate way possible, before his hips snapped back and into you again, eliciting a moan of both of you.

“Honestly, fucking you in your wedding dress is hot as fuck.” He laughed breathlessly, kissing you again, all while not halting his thrusts.

“Think about me pregnant with your kids,” you purred in his ear and squeaked in delight when his next thrust was harder than before.

“Don’t get me started. You’re going to look so good pregnant. All round and cozy.” His speed grew more erratic and you knew he would come soon.

“Fuck, we gonna start soon, right?” Your fingers clenched in his shirt, pushing him closer to you, chasing your own high.

“We’re starting right now, baby.” He kissed you again, hand moving down to rub your clit again, chuckling at the little whimpers you let out.

“Haji-“ You didn’t need to say more, he already knew, what you wanted to tell him.

“Go on, baby.” You kissed again, moans mixing in your mouths, as his tongue caressed yours, the slight taste of your juices still left on them. Every time his cock hit that one part you had to suppress a small scream, only slightly moaning in your husband's mouth.

“Can’t wait for tonight. Gonna fill you- ah- up again and again. And then you can be as loud as you want. Fuck. Gonna take my time with you.”

The filth he muttered against your lips only made you clench down harder onto his cock, feeling your high approaching rapidly. It was him coming, his cum spurting into you, which finally sent you over the edge, legs wrapping around him, bringing him even closer to your body, completely engulfing him, dead set on never letting him go.

Heavy breathing filled the room, as you both came down from your high. Small kisses were being exchanged, I love you’s were mumbled. But it was still perfect.

“I’m already anticipating tonight,” you mumbled, slightly exhausted due to moaning so much, making him chuckle, while his hands calmingly rubbed up and down your sides.

When he pulled out of you, you moaned again at the feeling of his cum slowly dribbling out of you.

“This looks so good. You look so good.” Hajime’s eyes were focused on the spot between your legs, fingers twitching to push it back inside.

“Don’t let it go on the dress!” You shrieked, chuckling at the way he darted to get a paper towel, carefully wiping you down.

“You alright, baby?” He helped you down from the table after pushing your thong back in place and fixing up his suit pants.

“Yeah. I love you. You made me the happiest woman alive, today, you know that?” The smile he threw your way at your words made your heart bloom. You were so in love with this man.

“Now, brace yourself for the comments.” You intertwined your fingers again, going back down the hallways to rejoin your guests at your reception. “You think somebody noticed something?” Your hands grew sweaty at the thought. Hopefully, nobody suspected a thing. Especially not his parents. Or worse, the grandparents!

“Tooru will have noticed for sure. You know how he is. If we’re lucky he hasn’t told Makki or Mattsun.” Hajime seemed way to relaxed at the thought, only shrugging his shoulders, ditching your hand to throw his arm around your shoulder and pull you into his side.

“I love you.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you could feel he was smiling.

“I love you, too.”

No matter what was going to happen once you got back, this was still the best day of your life.

#haikyuu #iwaizumi #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi hajime #server collab #haikyuuhq #multifandhoem #seijoh #oikawa #oikawa tooru #wedding #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #fanfiction #fluff #aoba johsai #iwaizumi steamy #steamy

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fwkei · 3 years

Text

Remember...?

Draken x fem!reader (mainly fluff slight angst)

Finally got my first request yall 🥳 I couldn’t strictly follow the request like i wanted to but i hope thats alright, the gist is still there. anyways thank you sm for it and i hope you enjoy

TW/CW: Mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex work

WC: 7k (omg the most ive ever written🙆🏻‍♀️)

Note: I changed my writing style a bit for this request so i hope yall don’t mind! and again i dont read my stuff over so my apologies if theres any mistakes lmao

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You sat on the street, overheating as you watched the ‘heat waves’ coming off the ground. You held your hair up with one of your hands since you had nothing to tie it with, while the other held a lukewarm water bottle. You sighed, you felt so anxious and frustrated.

What now?

You thought letting your mouth part due to your heavy breathing

You took things too fast. It had been about 3 weeks since you left your parents ‘home’ and why did you leave? Well there were a number of reasons that are a bit too much to list, but all that matters now is that you’re completely and utterly on your own.

You only managed to scavenge small jobs here and there to get some money to buy some basic necessities but nothing more.

“Sorry Y/n, my niece is coming down to Tokyo and I told her she could have a job here and stay at the studio above...I’m gonna have to let go. I’m sorry.” said your boss to you only a couple hours ago, with pity filled eyes

“...No it’s fine really! I understand.Thank you for taking me in while you could.” you said bowing your head at the man, biting your inner cheek trying to keep a level head

“I’m happy you understand. You can leave your apron and hat on the cashier. On your way out.” he said patting your shoulder as you slowly brought your head up

“Right..” you said taking off your apron and hat as you walked slowly to the cashier, placing it down

You brought your hands to your temples out of stress, trying to figure out what you could do now. You only had very little money, and there was a heat wave striking Japan this week. At least your boss allowed you to live and pay rent in the small studio right above his store, which had an AC, but now that was for his niece.

This had been the first time in a while where you had no idea what to do. You had always been the type of person to be able to take care of yourself and your problems..on your own. All your life since you can remember, you always had to be the one to take care of others, not that you mind or minded...but you were only so young. You never really had a childhood, at least not that you can remember. You do remember cleaning up after your parents who lost all will just to even... parent. You remember taking jobs as a babysitter at a really young age in your apartment complex to make some money.. You remember being the reliable older kid of your school and complex, where kids would come to you asking for help with things like homework all the way to buying something for them to eat because they were hungry. Not once did you ever say no, because you really did want to be there for those kids who’s parents didn’t give them the care they needed. But it just became too much.. You ended up spending all of your saved up money on them, just so they could have something to play with or something to eat.

Before you even realized it, you were in your last year of high school, with no money saved over, no scholarships, no one to rely on but yourself. Not even a friend. Was it really the right thing to do? Use all your money that you worked so hard for to help kids he lived next door? Or just plain stupid? You knew you couldn't support them forever...but you tried so hard to. All you wanted was to give them a childhood they never had, and someone to look up too. But now you left them. All because you were frustrated. You felt so unbearably guilty. All the work you put into your studies to get at least some type of scholarship just went to waste because you couldn't handle your life anymore. You were being so so so stupid.

Before you even knew it, the sun was going down, and you grew even more tired and sleepy. You signed, taking a jacket out of your bag and placing it on the ground so you could rest your head on it. You brought your hands to cushion your cheek as your eyes started to close. The air finally got a little cooler making it easier to breathe and well...do anything.

As you were falling asleep you could hear chatter and laughing, and finally a tap on your shoulder waking you up. You cringed your eyes before opening them up more to see 2 women. One had blonde hair and the other had pinkish hair. They looked older than you, maybe in their 20’s. One held a bag and the other held a bottle of wine with two glasses, they bent down so their heads could be closer to yours. After examining you for a bit they turned to each other and smiled happily before turning back their gaze to your confused face.

“Hey?” you said sitting up more, a little startled by the intimate contact they were giving you

“Hey there, say...what’s a pretty girl like you sleeping on the street for?” asked the girl with pinkish hair that was tied into pigtails

“I uh..don’t have a place right now so..” you said scratching your head

“Really? Hmmm.” said he one with blonde hair

“How old are you? And what’s your name? I think we can help you out! Woman to woman!” said the pink haired girl smiling sweetly making you feel fuzzy at their niceness

“18, and it’s Y/n.” you said smiling nervously

“Nice to meet you Y/n, I’m Remi, this is Rema, my twin sister.” said the pink haired girl pointing to the blonde as she waved sweetly

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you too..!” you said bringing your hands to your thighs smiling

“So did you just turn 18?” asked Rema

“Sorta, 2 months ago, why?” you asked

“Oh good!” they both said

“Well, it’s your choice really. One of the girls left today, and the boss sent us to scout another girl to take her place, buttt we just went to buy food with no intentions of finding someone but luckily we just found you! It’s perfect!” said Remi

“Oh? What work?” you asked getting excited

“Oh silly, we live in a brothel! It’s really not all that bad you know, great pay and rooms...so what do you think?” asked Rema

“A brothel..” you said under your breath

Your mind was in a serious state of concentration.

It can’t be all that bad, right? You just have to please people and go on with your day so… that’s what i've been doing my whole life… plus… there's a bunch of women in those things right? I probably won't get too much attention from customers if there's sweethearts like Remi and Rema walking around...so...just for the time being… I think it could really work out in my favor.

You thought to yourself

You brought your head up, giving the girls a closed eyes smile before shaking your head ‘yes’ making them jump in excitement.

“Oh good!” yelled Remi grabbing your hands

“I’m so excited! We haven't had a new girl in years! How do you think Ken will react?” asked Rema smiling as you 3 all started to walk

“Ken?” you asked furrowing your eyebrows at the familiar name

“Oh right, We’ll have to introduce you to him and everyone else tomorrow. He’s the bosses foster kid..I think you two are actually the same age.” said Rema bringing her pointer finger to her chin

“Mhm mhm! Oh and since you're new, tomorrow I will take your pictures for the board, you can borrow one of my sets till you can afford to buy one for yourself, how does that sound Y/n?” asked Remi smiling and holding your hand

“It sounds..great! Thank you so much.” you said bowing your head slightly

“No worries! Hopefully the boss will take you in.” said Remi patting your head

“Yeah..” you said as you 3 continued to walk to the brothel

You couldn't seem to get your mind off of that familiar name..Ken? You swore you knew someone named that. It definitely wasn't a popular name so it’s not like you knew it from some type of T.V program.. After thinking hard your whole way to your new home you couldn't seem to remember them. The person named Ken. And so you decided to brush it off for the time being.

The brothel was pretty big, and consisted of 12 girls, not including yourself. It was really late so everyone was asleep. Remi and Rema showed you to your room which was much more spacious than your room at home. They told you that you were allowed to decorate it and style it however you wanted. But they told you it was important to know that this was the room where business would be done, and not to leave important things around since some of the men came into brothels for the sole purpose of stealing. Remi even told you a story about how one of her clients tried to steal one of her panites, but then the boy named Ken stopped him by knocking him out with one punch to the stomach.

“He sounds strong-” you laughed as they gave you a small tour

“He sure is! Like the bodyguard of this place! He’s a sweetheart!” said Remi smiling

“I’m sure..!” you smiled

“Alright that’s about it, you should shower now and get ready for tomorrow. The boss will probably wanna take a look at you before seeing if he wants you. But I'm sure he will! You're pretty so it’ll go smoothly!” said Remi handing you her shower stuff for you to use for tonight and a set

“Got it, and again...thank you so much. I really appreciate it.” you said again

“Of course! Remember..we’re neighbors so feel free to knock whenever you need something..Also I can give you some tips before your first client so you know what to do.” she said smiling

“Right, goodnight then!..” you said feeling your face get hot at how she so easily talked about sex.

After that, you did exactly as she said, you showered. You thoroughly washed your body, face, and hair. Getting out you looked down at the set Remi gave you. It was just a black bra and matching panties with a silk cover up which made you feel better knowing you could cover up with that.

You rubbed your mouth as you started to rethink your decision. I mean...you respected sex workers..but was this life what you were willing to settle for? Aimlessly waiting around for some random horny man to choose you and do things with you just for you to get only 40% of the payment? Was this all really worth it? Leaving home to avoid your problems...to end up here? You were grateful, yes, Remi and Rema were so sweet and open with you. You could only hope that the others were just as nice. You really wanted things to go well, and that can only start with some good rest.

You woke up to a knock on your door, to see Remi and Rema walking in with a smile

“Morninggg!” they sang as you quickly got out of bed

“Hi!” you said frantically

“No need to rush! Usually men start coming in at 10, but since you don't work here officially yet you got to sleep in a bit! But the boss called for you, you should go to the set up room down the hall to get ready, remember it?” asked Rema

“Yeah I do. Thank you for waking me-!” you said smiling and grabbing your stuff and shoes

“Course, good luck Y/n!” they said as you quickly walked out of your room to get ready

As you walked in, there were a few other girls getting ready. You smiled and introduced yourself to them, and them to you. They were all so nice and pretty. It made you feel a little bit better about being here, and less nervous since they complimented your looks. You got ready in about 10 minutes, letting one of the other girls help you out with your hair and stuff like that. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror before stepping out and waving to the girls ‘bye.’

You nervously walked to the boss's door. You took a deep breath before knocking. You heard a muffled ‘come in!’ so you walked in smiling while holding your covering close. You gave a nervous closed eyes smile before seeing his office was simple, just a desk with a bunch of papers and a chair on the other side.

“Y/n, correct?” he asked placing down his paper and taking off his glasses to look at you

“Yes.” you said smiling

“Pleasure-” he said leaning over the desk to shake your hand

“Likewise.” you said smiling, shaking his hand firmly before sitting down

“Well, I’m sure Remi and Rema told you just about everything you need to know, I take 60% of your earrings, I use that stuff to pay for rent and bills for you girls and my kid… which usually takes up about 30% of that 60%, meaning you make a profit of 40, while I make only a profit of 30 per girl.” he said

“Yeah, I was told.” you said smiling nervously fiddling with your hands

“Good good, now that that's over with..” he said getting up ad signing

“I’m just gonna take a look at you, no need to be nervous I’m not gonna touch you or anything, so please don’t feel worried.” he said smiling

“Right!” you said getting up

“Alright just do a quick 360 with arms up.” he said smiling

“Okay.” you said doing as he said

He looked you up and down but not in a lustful way at all, it was more of like a ‘just seeing how you’ll hold up’ kinda look, almost like he was a bit worried for you.

“Thank you-” he said sitting back down as you did the same feeling nervous

“I was also told you’re 18? Right?” he asked looking down at his papers

“Yeah that's right.” you said

“Well I don't usually have this talk with the other woman because they're older. I know the age of consent in Japan is 16 and blah blah, but you’re still pretty young, are you sure you wanna work like this?” he asked looked into your eyes

“...Not entirely but it’s the best I can do right now.” you said with a determined face

“I see- we’ll then welcome, and just remember you can leave whenever you want, but give a 2 weeks notice. When Remi is done, ask her to take your picture.” he said

“Understood, thank you!” you said said smiling and leaving

You walked out of the room, closing the door carefully signing in relieve

That went pretty well.

You thought

You started to walk down the hall so that you could ask Remi to take your picture. But when you put your ear to the door, you heard lewd noises letting you know she wasn’t done just yet. It was already 5, and the brothel closes at 10. You didn’t really know what to do, so you walked over to the kitchen, sitting down at one of the stools waiting for Remi and or Rema to finish up with their work. You tapped the pen that was on the table and started to look around the kitchen. You remembered Remi told you there were snacks in the cabinets, so you got up and started to open and close them one by one to find something to eat. You finally found a cabinet filled instant ramen, you grabbed one and started to pour water into it, popping it into the microwave that was on the counter top. You stood in front of it waiting, playing with the loose strings of you covering when suddenly you heard the door open.

“I’m home.” said the tall boy with dark hair tied back to reveal a dragon tattoo on the side of his head

Is this Ken?

You thought as the microwave beeped, making his eyes turn to you

You quickly shot your eyes to the microwave, hoping he didn’t notice your stare. He looked so familiar it was almost irritating how you couldn’t remember him. You took the hot cup out of the microwave, placing it down on the counter top, ignoring his presence as he walked over, placing down the plastic bag in his hand, noticing your frustrated face trying to figure out where the utensils are.

“Left of the sink are where they are.” he said sitting down on the stool across from you after looking at your face a bit

“Thank you.” you said smiling nervously turning around to grab a pair of chopsticks

“Are you new here?” he asked taking out a styrofoam box from the plastic bag, opening it to reveal a hot meal of meat and rice and vegetables

“Yeah..I was supposed to start today but I don’t have my pictures taken yet.” you said smiling turning back to mix your noodles

“Could you grab me a pair too?” he asked realizing he forgot to take a pair of chopsticks from the restaurant

“Sure-” you said turning back quickly to grab some for him, placing it in his hands as he gave you a soft smile making your eyes widen slightly.

“You look familiar..” you both said at the same time making both your eyebrows raise in shock then turn into a slight scoff from the both of you

“Glad we’re on the same page then.” he said taking a bite of his food as you did the same still standing

“You know you can sit down, don’t feel nervous.” he said looking up you slightly

“..yeah.” you said smiling, walking around and sitting next to him.

“So when’d you come?” he asked turning his head slightly to see your mouth filled with noodles making him smile a bit

“..I came by last night, really late with Remi and Rema.” you said after finishing your bite

“I see...I feel like I remember you from somewhere, can’t pinpoint it though.” he said looking back down at his food

“Same here, and you must be Ken though, right? When I first heard your name I swore the same thing but I just can’t remember..” you said before sipping some of the broth of your soup

“Yeah, but you can call me Draken and your name?” he asked getting up to grab a napkin from across the table

“Draken...sure! Oh right, my bad. It’s Y/n. Nice to meet you-” you said smiling holding your hand out for him to shake

He only completely shot up to look into your eyes with his wide ones. You gave him a confused look as you watched him get knocked out of his thoughts, bring his hand up to shake your hand before clearing his throat and walking back over to sit. Maybe you struck a nerve? Maybe had the same name as someone who hurt him in the past? You really didn’t know but it made you feel interested. He looked like he just had his life flash before his eyes or something.

“Are you okay?” you asked

“Uh yeah, I’m fine. My head just hurts a bit.” he said looking as if he was deep in thought

“Oh? I have some tylenol in my room.. You want one? Or I can make you a cold drink, you’re probably dehydrated?” you asked smiling a bit

Draken turned his head to look at you, his mouth was parted, and he just looked so..anxious? You couldn’t even tell, almost like congested because he wanted to say something.

Draken felt his heartbeat quicken when he heard your name. As soon as you said it, a random memory that was buried deep in the back of his mind hit him as he quickly re-lived it. But could it really be you? The Y/n he knew from so so so long ago? Around 10 years ago? There could be no way, he remembers the girl moving to a different city..the chances were so low that it could really be you already.

But the second you said those words.. Those words of offering to make something for him, or give him something, despite you thinking you only just met him...Made him know that it was really the Y/n he met when he was only a little boy...but how the hell did you turn up here? In a place and part of town like this? He was so confused and just wanted to ask you...but you still didn’t remember him.

“..No I’m alright, thanks..can I ask you somethin-” said Draken before being interrupted

“Y/n!! Come on, let's take your pictures!” yelled Remi coming out of her room waving as a man walked out too buttoning his shirt

“Sorry, just remember what you wanted to say and tell me later.” you said smiling and standing up and walking over to Remi

Draken watched you as you walked away. He saw Remi give you a hug, and the man that was walking out checked you out to which Draken gave him a pissed off look. Making the man smile nervously, wave, and leave.

Do you really wanna live your life like this, Y/n?

He thought to himself before packing up his trash and throwing it away

Remi took your pictures, telling you to do different poses etc, and you finally settled on one. You walked over to the front of the house to place your picture in its designated area above your name. You signed, stepping back to look at it, fixing your gaze to see Draken was walking over with his hands in his pocket, looking as he was going to leave. You saw him glance at the photo making you feel slightly embarrassed.

“Nice.” he said smiling but looking into your eyes in a way where it looked like he was concerned for you.

Just as you were about to thank him a man walked in and started looking at you making you feel nervous. The man requested you, and so you smiled at him pointing your hand to where the showers were, as you started to walk behind him, you turned your hand giving a thumbs up to Draken with a nervously flushed face, smiling, as he he brought his hand up giving you a thumbs up with soft and concerning eyes before opening the door and leaving. It made your smile fade slightly, you’ve seen that face before from him. But not from today.. And it was all you could think about during your work.

As you laid in your room, after work you couldn’t help but feel a little bit...stupid? You felt so unsatisfied, not because of your customers but because you just couldn’t remember. It felt like an itch you couldn’t scratch hard enough, and with every interaction you had with the boy almost felt like a tease, like the itch just became more itchy and your scratches just became more weak. Maybe if you spend more time with him, you’ll remember?

It had been about 4 weeks, 4 weeks of saving your money, and every 4 weeks the boss collected his fair share of the cut. It wasn’t a pretty 4 weeks, it was probably the worst 4 weeks of your life. But... you and Draken would often exchange stories about your lives late at night which you enjoyed a lot. It always makes you feel better. But yet again you still couldn't figure him out. You felt as though you’ve met him before, and as though you two have had these kinds of talks before.

Draken only grew more and more helpless, seeing how you still haven’t remembered. He was slowly watching your life crumble. He felt so angry that you settled and believed you deserved to live like this, barely scraping by. He felt so awful, and saw how you grew so tired of it all. He just so badly wanted you to remember him, so that he could once again talk to you like he did before.

You had one last customer before closing, going through your usual routine, this n that, the man offered you a drink. You stupid obliged drinking it, hoping it would make your time more enjoyable but you were wrong, so very wrong, and so very stupid for drinking that stupid drink. You remember some parts, you did your job, then it all went black.. You woke up after hearing knocking on your door. You jumped out of bed, confused. You remember seeing the man leave as you started to fall asleep but that's about it. Usually you never fall asleep after the work because you never do much, your mind started to panic. But the door opened revealing Remi smiling.

“Hey sleepy! Boss says it’s your turn, come on, get your cash!” she said smiling

“Right let me just..it’s in my drawer..I don't know why I fell asleep so fast I think alcohol makes me sleepy.” you said getting out of bed and kneeling in front of your drawer to get the envelope of cash you had been saving.

“Heh, same here. I never accepted drinks from clients..they never had good intentions with that!” she said coming over and sitting at your bed

“..yeah.” you said starting to feel that panic arise in your body when seeing the envelope was...gone.

“What's wrong?” asked Remi noticing you were frozen

“I- the money..It’s gone..he took it..” you said with wide eyes feeling as though you were about to sob realizing you had just lost thousands of yen.

“Don’t say that..it..it probably just got misplaced! Come on, I'll help you look!” said Remi getting up

You couldn't even respond because of the amount of panic you were in. Your heart was racing and you felt tears fall from your eyes. After about 15 minutes of looking, you two found nothing. Absolutely nothing. You sat on the floor with your hand over your mouth, again, trying to keep a level head.

What now..?

You thought to yourself feeling hot tears stream from your face.

“Hey..guys? Boss is calling for you Y/n..what’s going on?” asked Rema walking in seeing you covering your face, crying

“She was robbed by the guy who just left, he put something in her drink to knock her out while he looked around and took the money...she doesn’t have the money.” said Remi

Rema’s mouth parted in shock and pity.

How could you mess up something so easy? All you had to do was keep your money safe. But you even failed at that.

“You have to tell him, Y/n.” said Rema rubbing your back

“Yea..yeah, could you two just give me a second? I’ll be right out.” you said smiling while wiping your face

“Sure.” they said frowning and walking out

You fisted your hands, and grabbed your covers before screaming into them to muffle your sounds..

Okay..it was a couple of thousand yen...not too bad right? I can promise the money by tomorrow..I’ll pick up some sort of street job...yeah! That’s good. Everything is fine..it’s fine.

You thought to yourself before wiping your face on more time and slapping both sides of your cheeks to wake you up.

You got up and walked to the bosses door feeling the eyes of people on your back. You knocked on the door before opening it slowly, refusing to make eye contact as you went to stand in front of the man with your arms behind your back.

“Alrighttt, let’s see here, in the last four weeks you had a total of 37 customers, so you should have around 300,000 yen, correct?” he asked looking at his paper

“Yes.” you said still looking down

“Alright, just hand it to me so I can count and divide it, you can sit.” he said smiling holding his hand out

“I..I don-” you said before being interrupted by a knock

“Come in.” he said

“Hey sorry dad, Y/n left her money with me while she went out. Thought I should bring it to her. Remember, Y/n?” said Draken walking in with an envelop in his hand smiling as he came to stand next to you, as you nodded your head ‘yes’

“Oh, thank you Ken.” he said smiling and taking the envelop

Your mouth parted as you gave a confused look, Draken only smiled and gave you a thumbs up while his dad counted the money. You felt so guilty and shocked, and all you could do was just stand there, like an idiot.

“Here you are...120,000 back..” he said, patting the money on the table to make it flat, putting it back into the envelope and handing it to you

You hesitantly brought your hand to grab it, glancing over at Draken who gave you small smile

“Thank you-” you said to him seeing Draken was already opening the door to leave

You quickly followed after him as he walked into his room. Before entering his room he turned around and looked down at you

You felt your eyes soften as you felt as though you were about to cry again, you tilted your head and neck down biting the inside of your cheek to keep in your cry.

“I promise I’ll pay all of it back by tomorrow, all 300,000.” you said

“Do you ever give yourself a break?” he asked as you brought your head up to look at him seeing he looked almost irritated

“You didn’t even ask why I did it, you just immediately jumped to feeling guilty. And you don’t need to pay me back. Really.” he said bringing his hand to close to the door, but you stopped him by grabbing his wrist making his breath hitch

“Why?” you asked looking into his eyes

“You still don’t remember? Even after all this time we’ve spent together?” he asked smiling as you took your hand off his wrist

“Remember...?” you asked furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, but then it suddenly hit you

“I swear it wasn’t me! I didn't steal!” yelled a little boy with blonde hair as two cops stood in front of him

You tilted your head and walked closer, but still keeping your distance to hear. It was a winter day and you were on your way to the corner store to buy some snacks, but you were met with an interesting scene. You kept your hands in your pockets as you listened over to the boy screaming and pleading his innocence

“I wouldn’t steal something so stupid! What would a kid like me need a lighter for!! I don’t know how it ended up in my pocket! Lay off!” he yelled as the officer dangled the lighter in front of his face

A lighter?

“Keep it down! We know how troubled you kids are here! Especially with those tattoos!” yelled back the cop as the boy grew angry and fisted his hands, ready to punch the cop

“Hey!!!” he heard a voice yelled

“Hey wait a minute!” you yelled waving your hand smiling as you ran to the scene

“Can we help you?” asked one of the cops in a soft tone

The blonde boy grew quiet, and you saw his hands loosen as he looked at your smiling face

“Yeah, why are you two yelling at my brother?” you asked furrowing your brows at the two grown man

“...Your so-called brother stole a lighter from the corner store right behind you, where are your parents? We would like to have a word with them.” he said standing up straight

“Yeah, and talk about how they let their son tattoo himself already..” said one under his breath making the other laugh

You looked over at the boy growing angry, you gave him a smile..making him calm down.

“He said it was just an accident, I asked him to pick up a lighter from the store so that we could light a candle at our father’s grave! See!” you said digging into your bag to pull out a candle

“He probably felt pressured because I asked him to get it, so if you’re gonna get mad at someone, get mad at me!” you said as you started to fake cry

“It’s our father's death anniversary, and you're yelling at kids for making a mistake.” you faked cried

“Yeah!!” yelled the boy making you smile under your hands as the two officers became anxious, feeling bad for what they had just done.

“..we’re sorry. Please let us apologize.” they said slightly bowing at you two

“I don’t think we can accept it...you two also made fun of the dragon tattoo on his head!...dragons were our dads favorite animal. He risked his life fighting for Japan and you two are laughing at him! Is that how your mother taught you how to behave?” you asked pretending to wipe you tears as the blonde boy watched you in awe seeing you toy with grown men

“Please let us treat you both to whatever you’d like from the corner store as an apology!” they both said bowing lower making you smile and look back at the boy. You gave him a thumbs up as a smile grew on his face

“Fine..come on then?” you said as both the officers raised their heads, opening the doors of the corner store for you both

You and the blonde boy walked around the store, filling your baskets with all types of things. The blonde boy watched you in just pure awe as you walked around picking your favorite snacks, as he did the same, glancing at you every now and then.

“Here.” you said smiling at the cops

“Right!” they said frantically taking out their wallets as the boy placed down his stuff nervously, still watching you

“Oh and-” you said reaching your hand to grab the lighter from the officer and placing it into the bunch of snacks

You smiled, your hands were behind your back as you watched the officers pay for yours and the boys' food, placing them into bags for you guys too. You grabbed the lighter and your bag, as the boy did the same

“Mom told us to meet her at the cemetery steps, remember?” you said looking into the boys eyes

“..yeah, I remember.” he said smiling feeling his face become hot

“Let’s go then.” you said smiling and taking his hand as you two ran out of the store

After a bit you two stopped and sat on the curbside while you both chose a snack to eat.

“Here’s your lighter, you don’t have to stay with me by the way.” you said handing him the steel lighter

“..Thanks” he said

“Sure- what do you need it for anyway?” you asked smiling

“My boss asked for it.” he said putting it in his pocket

“Oh, are you in some type of delinquent group?” you asked looking at him

“Yeah..” he said smiling

“That's cool, what do you guys do?” you asked taking a sip of your drink

“We kinda just...like...do stupid stuff and fight..” he said

“Sounds fun, but...stupid.” you said laughing making him scoff

“Why’d you do it?” he asked

“Do what?” you asked back turning you gaze to him

“Come in to cover me. You could’ve gotten in a lot of trouble because of me.” he said with a frustrated face

“You’re right, I just wanted to, that's all.” you said smiling making his mouth part and cheeks redden

“You seem pretty fun too so I thought we could be friends or something..” you said nervously

“Yeah! Sure- We can be friends!” he said happily making you feel flustered

“Well then, it’s nice to meet you, my name is Y/n, yours?” you asked holding over your hand

“Ken, but you can call me Draken-” he said taking ahold of your hand gently as you gave him a closed eyed smile blushing

“where the hell did you find that candle and com up with that whole sob story Y/n?”

“Dunno, I saw the candle on the ground by a newspaper, I kinda just winged it- “

After that day you remember hanging out with Draken almost every other day. You remember him telling you how he and his close friends started their own gang and needed some sort of funding, and so you gave it to him, on his birthday.

“I saved up! You said that you and your friends needed some money to start off so that you guys could buy a flag or banner? Right? Well, here’s 30,000 yen for your birthday!” you said handing him an envelope and a small balloon.

“Are-are you serious right now Y/n?” he asked taking the gifts, opening the envelope to look inside to see the money as his eyes lit up

“Yeah, I babysit more kids now so I was able to put some aside for you.” you said smiling satisfied with his reaction

He didn’t even say anything, all he did was bring his arms around you upper body, hugging you tight making you laugh as you brought yours to hug him back

“Thank you- you’re the best! The guys will be so happy!” he said smiling while grasping your wrists in excitement. Your eyes traced over his face as they soften. You smiled.

“Likewise.”

And- after that, you remember the day you 2 separated as friends. You both sat on the curbside, you remembered you called him to come and see you. It was a winter night and the sun was going down.

“I uh..well I don’t really know how to say this without sounding cliche but-”

“What? Are you gonna confess that you’re madly in love with me or something?” he asked grinning, making you sweat drop

“Jeez be quiet...I’m trying to make this a memorable moment-” you signed smiling, placing your palms on the cold cement

“Alright let’s hear it then Y/n-!” he said bringing his hands to the back of his head as he laid down looking up at the stars

You only frowned slightly, you shifted your position so that you could sit beside him and have a good look at his face.

“You’re scaring me..” he said jokingly making you smile

“It was really fun the past year.” you said smiling as Draken shot his head up to look at you face to face

“The hell are you talking like that for?” he asked furrowing his brows

“My parents can’t afford living in any districts in Tokyo anymore, so we’re moving to another city… about 4 hours train ride from Tokyo so-” you said looking down at your hands on the floor

“So? You act like I won't be able to come and see you or you come and see me..” he said ducking his head a bit so that you could look at him

“Draken, train tickets are about 220 yen per person, I can't afford it, and if you came by to see me I'd feel guilty because you’d be wasting your money just to only see me for like an hour.” you said

“How can I be wasting my money on you? It’s not wasting if I wanna do it and see you, plus what makes you think it'll only be a couple hours?” he asked

“I’ll have to start working once we get there, so I wouldn’t have anytime...I wanna start saving so that one day I can come back to Tokyo and live here, so that I can see your dream come true of helping your friend create a ‘new era of delinquents’ you know? I’ll even help you guys if you want with financial stuff or something.” you said smiling at him

Draken bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to tell you so bad how he felt but..

“Look, I have a feeling I know what you’re gonna say..just remember what you wanted to say and tell me later, okay?” you said placing your hand on top of his causing his eyes to widen

“...You’ll remember me, right?” he asked looking into your eyes deeply making your mouth part

“Yeah, I’ll remember you as long as you remember what you wanted to tell me. Cause I feel the same” you said smiling as a tear fell from your eyes

“good...I will.” he said smiling back and tilting his head and wiping it off your face

After the memories hit you, you stood there with wide eyes and tears, with your wrist covering your quivering mouth. You had completely suppressed your memories of Draken, and your feelings because you knew you wouldn't be able handle being apart from him for so long. And he did the same. You couldn’t imagine how unbearable it was for him to be waiting up like this. You looked up at him seeing his eyes were softly looking at you. You could do nothing but bring your arms around him hugging him, as he brought his arms around you to do the same. You were still such in shock.

“I never thought you’d end up in a place like this, living a life like this.” he said against your ear

“I don’t wanna see you like this, please let me take care of you like you did for me..” he said said tightening his grip slightly

You could only cry at his words, you didn’t even wanna try to speak because you knew it would only come out as a sob. Was it really alright for you to rely on someone so much?

He pulled back from the hug and looked at your face, seeing you were still crying as you nodded your head ‘yes’, he smiled and wiped them away with his thumb. The smile on his face...he looked so satisfied...and happy...happy that you finally remembered. Finally remembered him.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revenger x reader #draken #draken x reader #fluff #angst #idk lmfao #toman #draken x y/n #tokyo rev

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

By Your Doorstep (Part 7)

Summary: The reader spends her first Thanksgiving with Dean and his friends and she and Dean grow closer as a couple. But things change when a knock on the door happens one night...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 5,600ish

Warnings: language, bad parenting, past child abuse, violence, blackmail

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

_________

Reader’s POV

Two Days Later

“We’re here!” called Dean as you followed him inside of his friend’s Donna and Benny’s house. Sam helped Toast navigate the cluster of shoes by the door as Tessa stepped in.

“About time you Winchesters got here,” said a man poking his head out from down a hall. “Hey, somebody’s looking better.”

“Are you that firefighter?” asked Tessa.

“At your service,” he said as he walked over. “Benjamin Laffetite. My friends call me Benny.”

“Aw, he is like a big teddy bear, Dean,” you said. Benny gave Dean a side eye but smiled. “Nice to meet you in person. We missed you at the last party Dean had.”

“Likewise. Me and the missus were out of town. Come on ladies. Let these two handle the bags,” he said as Toast ran up and sniffed him. “Well aren’t you adorable? What’s your name?”

“Toast. He’s my service dog. Kinda,” said Tessa.

“We’ll save him a slice of turkey,” said Benny as he pet him. “Hey you single kid?”

“Benny,” said Dean with a sigh.

“Jack’s here,” said Benny before he turned the two of you. “He’s our buddy Cas’ little cousin. 18. Freshman at Elmdale. He’s got that whole sweetly naive innocent thing going on for him.”

“Benny!” said a young looking guy in a hoodie standing at the entrance to the kitchen.

“Speak of the devil. Hey, Jackie, come say hi to this chick out of your league. Give you some practice talking to girls,” said Benny with a smirk.

“Hi. He’s an ass,” said Jack before Toast wandered over to him. “This your dog?”

“Yeah,” she said as Toast started to lick him. “He likes you.”

She gave you a look and you waved for her to take off, Benny chuckling to himself.

“Always gotta harass the kids, don’t you, Benny,” said Dean. The boys exchanged quick hugs and Benny let out a big laugh.

“Well since Sammy got big enough to beat me up I had to pick easier targets,” said Benny. He gave you a smile and threw his arm over your shoulders. “I got this one boys.”

“Benny…” said Dean as Benny walked off with you. “Play nice.”

“Don’t I always?” he said. He showed you into a kitchen and stopped next to a blonde working over the stove. “Y/N this is my lovely gal, Donna. Deano set us up a few years back.”

“Oh you’re adorable,” she said, ditching a spoon in a pot before giving you a big hug.

“She’s a hugger,” said Benny as he took over the stove.

“We haven’t seen Dean in months. We were starting to think he fell off the face of the earth,” she said.

“Sorry. We uh, we’ve been busy with a lot lately,” you said, getting an eye roll from her.

“Don’t apologize. He is head over heels for you,” she said. “But I will fuck you up if you hurt him, okay?”

“Permission granted,” you said.

“Donna, she’s almost kicked ass for me before,” said Dean as he and Sam carried in two casserole dishes.

“Then she doesn’t have to worry, does she? So you a beer or wine kinda gal?” she asked.

“She likes bourbon,” said Cas as he walked in with a plate full of bugles held strangely close to his face.

“Why are you so weird buddy?” chuckled Dean, slapping Cas on the back. “Everybody else knows Y/N and Tessa for the most part.”

“I’ll take a beer for now,” you said. You followed Dean into the garage and grabbed a bottle from the cooler, a goofy smile crossing his face. “What?”

“I’m really happy you’re here is all,” he said. You set the beer down on the cooler and wrapped your arms over his shoulders, smiling back at him.

“I really like when you’re happy.” He blushed a little as your nose grazed his. His eyes kept lock with yours though and you smiled as you saw the creases near them from his own. “I think I might be falling for you or something Winchester.”

“Fancy that. I could say the exact same,” he said. “The deranged woman shouting toast in the neighborhood.”

“The man who fell on his ass on my front porch,” you said. He giggled and you immediately kissed him, Dean pulling you flush against himself. “That just might be the best sound I’ve ever heard in my life.”

He grinned and you both heard the door open, Tessa coming out and digging around in a cooler for a soda. She looked a little tired as you picked up your and Dean’s beers, Dean ruffling her head slightly. She shut her eyes and you both smiled.

“You’re still recovering. Take it easy if you need to,” he said.

“I know,” she hummed. She straightened up when Jack came out to get a drink, Tessa ducking back inside where it was warmer.

“Jack,” said Dean with a whistle. “Why don’t you and Tessa go sit down and watch some football? Something easy going.”

“She likes football?” he asked.

“She got sick a few days ago and needs some rest is all,” you said. “But you don’t have to-”

“No that’s totally cool,” he said with a smile.

“She is out of your league, Jack. Also in highschool,” said Dean. Jack held up his hands and Dean chuckled as he walked out. “Don’t worry about him. He’s the sweetest kid I’ve ever met.”

“Cas always brags about him. I figured he wouldn’t be like, an asshole,” you said. “So he’s like Cas’ nephew, right?”

“Technically, yes. Legally, he’s his kid. Cas’ whole family is full of nutjobs. Jack’s dad isn’t a great guy. Cas took custody of Jack about two years ago.”

“You ever talk to him about...taking charge before you’re ready?”

“Cas was twenty nine with a very good job and house and security and Jack was seventeen. They’re more like brothers I guess. Cas is one of my best friends but he doesn’t...get it. His parents help a lot. I know you know the difference.”

“I do,” you said. You gave him another kiss and slipped back inside with him, a woman you didn’t recognize giving you a smile as she popped into the garage. “You know her?”

“Must be a friend of Donna’s,” he said as he took your hand. “You’re all chilly. Let’s get you warmed up, sweetheart.”

“I’m officially stuffed,” said Dean that night back at home after his fifth slice of pie that day. He was in his onesie and you’d slipped into your gray one, Dean hopping over the back of the couch and pulling you into his side.

Tessa hummed as she skipped downstairs sporting a pink and white one, Sam sighing loudly as Toast trotted down the steps.

“Sammy, you look cute!” called Tessa. She sounded a little too pleased with herself and Dean gave her a fist bump just as Sam walked around the corner. His was black and he had the hood up, a pout on his face.

“Aw, he’s adorable,” you said.

“I hate you. All of you,” said Sam as he stretched out on the other end of the wrap around.

“Sam, share,” said Tessa. He smirked and flipped her as he pulled her down, Tessa yelping but letting out a few giggles. He sat back and she leaned back against him, leaving enough room for Toast to use his pillow on the floor to hop up onto the end.

“Alright, now that everyone’s settled, let’s watch some football,” said Dean.

About an hour later Tessa was passed out on top of Sam, Sam breathing softly as he slept as well. You looked at Dean to find he was watching them too, a silly look on his face.

“We should do onesies for Christmas Eve too,” you said.

“Definitely. This was the best thanksgiving I think Sammy and me have ever had.”

“Really?”

“I got my girl. I got my little sis and brother. Got my dog. Sammy really liked that Eileen girl he met today. This is definitely up there as one of the best days ever,” he said.

“You know how earlier I said I was falling for you?” you smirked.

“Oh yes. That was a highlight of the day,” he chuckled quietly.

“Looking over at those two, this is the first time she’s not cried on a holiday in years. She had a really good day and I don’t feel like I’m fucking this up as much as I was anymore and I know it’s because of you.”

“Oh I’m doing this all for entirely selfish reasons,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose. “Very selfish.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder with a smile.

“I’ve only ever let one person in, all that way down to the shit deep down there. I love my friends and I’d do anything for them. I’d give ‘em a kidney if they needed it. But it was only ever Sam my whole life that got all the way in. Lately though, there’s this girl and she’s making me rethink some things and for the first time in my life, I let somebody else in and it feels terrifying but I’m happy in a way I didn’t think I’d have. She’s making me a better person and I feel so good and I am going to keep being incredibly selfish about that.”

He tilted his head down as you leaned up, meeting him for a kiss. It was soft and lingered, Dean cupping your cheek. You moved and he went with it, slow and lazy, laying back and enjoying a playful game. Something swelled up inside of you and burst open, a moment of pause as you took a breath. Tears prickled the corners of your eyes and you tried to look away before Dean saw but he was still holding your face, big green eyes locking onto yours.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, wiping away the sticky droplets.

“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m happy. I’m so happy right now I don’t understand.”

“You let me in,” he said gently. “Way down you let me in just now, didn’t you.”

“I don’t understand why I’m crying,” you said.

“Because the last people you let in there, it broke your heart when you lost them,” he said. “Don’t be scared of losing me. I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded and put your palm against his chest, Dean wiping off your face. His heart thumped along evenly, strong and steady. He nodded and he turned off the TV, carrying you up to bed. He sat you down and lay down beside you, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Not really,” you said. He propped himself up on his elbow and you rolled over to meet him.

“Sweetheart you can’t go around living scared of people dying on you. It’s-”

“It’s not that,” you said. “I just...can I ask an unaskable favor?”

“What?”

“If something happened to me, would you help take care of Tessa, until she’s ready to be on her own?” you asked.

“Why do you think something-”

“Dean could you just…” you said before he nodded.

“If anything ever happened, Tessa will always have us,” he said. “I swear.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t have to thank me for that,” he said. He stroked your cheek again and offered a soft smile. “Is there something you’re not telling me sweetheart?”

“The last boyfriend I had I was twenty three. I’d been with him for three years. I thought he was gonna be the one, you know?”

“What happened?” he asked quietly, still tracing over your skin.

“He moved away after school for a job. It was working until it wasn’t. It was amicable. I still...never quite got over him I suppose. After the accident, he reached out to make sure I was doing okay. I really wasn’t but he was coming into town to see his parents anyways so he stopped over. I thought he cared, maybe I could let the wall down a little and it’d be okay. But he was so rude to her. She was in a real bad place at first and he just...was a dick and I got over him like that for good. But you, and Sam, I feel like, you’re the kind of the people that...if I dropped dead this second you’d be over her house ten years from now helping her put up a shelf or you’d take her out for drinks or something and the fact that she has people she can depend on and I don’t have to worry about her as much...it just kinda hit me tonight, you know?”

“I do. You have people you can depend on too,” he said. You leaned over and kissed him, Dean sliding his hand to the back of your head. “It gets easier. I promise it does.”

“I know,” you said.

“Let’s have a little quiet day at home tomorrow. Maybe we can put up the tree,” he said. “That sound fun?”

“Sounds perfect Dean.”

Two Weeks Later

“Tessa,” you said as she zipped up her winter jacket in the foyer.

“Y/N. I’m going over Jack’s to play video games, I swear,” she said. “I’m pretty sure Cas and Kelly will be home anyways.”

“Your shirt’s on backwards, doofus,” teased Dean from the couch. She huffed and took off her jacket, fixing it as Sam jogged down the stairs in a suit.

“Hot date tonight, Sammy?” she teased.

“At least I know how to dress myself,” he shot back. “Ready to go?”

“Mhm,” she said. She put her jacket back on and hooked up Toast’s leash the two of them heading out.

“You think she’s actually going over to play video games or make out with him?” asked Dean.

“Both?” you laughed.

“Not bad plans if I say so myself,” he said, pulling you into his lap. The doorbell rang and he groaned. “Stay put. We have a makeout session to get to.”

He hopped up and went over to the door, immediately shutting it.

“Something wrong?” you asked as he walked back. He shook his head, the doorbell ringing again, you got up and went to the door, hearing Sam talking loudly outside with someone. You peeked the door open and saw a man on the front porch, Sam rolling his eyes and walking away from a woman. He got in the car and drove off with Tessa, the man giving you a look. “Can I help you?”

“We’d like to speak to Dean,” he said.

“Who are you?” you asked.

“His father,” he said, pushing the door open wide. “Who are you?”

“His girlfriend,” you said, stepping in front of him with crossed arms. “I don’t recall inviting you into my home.”

“Leave. Both of you,” said Dean as they both stepped into the foyer. “I said-”

“We want to speak to you. In private,” he said.

“I don’t think-” you got out before he got in your face and glared down at you. You swallowed. He was as big as Dean but there was something off to him.

“Dean. Private,” said his father.

“Y/N, go upstairs. Please,” said Dean. You sighed but went up, hanging around the balcony to try and overhear them in the family room below. “What the fuck are you two shitheads doing at my house?”

There was a thud and you froze, listening for more.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” said Dean, his voice slightly off.

“You know how this works.”

“Why don’t you get a job lazy ass? Oh wait. You get fired for being drunk at yours?” said Dean. There was another thud and you took out your phone, trying to record whatever was going on. “Oh punching. Very mature of…” said Dean before he gasped and made a whining sound.

“You know how this goes. She calls and you pay. Now pay or we’ll tell Sam the truth.”

“That you’re a sack of shit? He already-” said Dean before he went quiet.

“Have the money tomorrow by noon at the locker or else Sammy’s gonna drop you like the sack of shit you are, Dean. He’s gonna hate you for taking him from us and you know it.”

“I saved his-”

“No, no Dean. You were pathetic and couldn’t stand the thought of being alone so you took Sam. You pay us every few years. That’s the deal for us staying away. If you go back on your word now, we’ll go back on ours.”

“I’m done with you blackmailing me for-” said Dean before there was another thud.

“I’m done with you thinking you’re better than us. You’re nothing, understand boy?” he said. You went over to the hall closet and grabbed a baseball bat, walking downstairs to catch John staring down at the floor, Dean sat back against the wall holding his side.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” you said, gripping the bat tightly.

“Noon, Dean,” he said. He walked out with Mary on his tail. You quickly locked up and rushed over to Dean who had his eyes shut and was sporting a few bruises on his face.

“Jesus Dean,” you said. You moved his hand and saw a bruise on his ribs, Dean holding up a hand when you tried to move him.

“Give me a second,” he said. You picked up the bat and he caught your wrist, shaking his head. “He doesn’t have any problem hitting a woman, Y/N.”

“I should be calling the cops,” you said.

“Y/N,” he said when you tried to tug away. “Please don’t.”

You put down the bat and he dropped your hand. You cupped his cheeks and he winced.

“I need to take you to the hospital,” you said. He shook his head and you shook it right back. “Dean.”

“Help me over to the counter,” he said. You hooked an arm under his and got him up, walking him over to one of the stools. You sat him down, Dean inhaling sharply. You got out the first aid kit from the cabinet and set it down, taking a kitchen towel and wetting it before you dabbed it against this cheek. It soaked up a little blood and you frowned, Dean looking away.

“Dean I recorded the whole thing on my phone. It’s still going on the stairs. We gotta call-“

“Y/N. Just…don’t.” He started to grab the bag and stand when you scoffed. “I can handle this.”

He got up and started to walk, slowing down after a moment and holding his side again. He stopped by the back of the couch and dropped his head. You sighed and took the bag from him, throwing his arm over your shoulders and walking him upstairs, grabbing your phone along the way. You walked him into the bathroom and he sat up on the counter, leaning back against the wall with a wince.

You helped him out of his shirt and saw the bruise was darkening over his ribs, Dean shutting his eyes.

“Hand me your little mirror,” he said, pointing over to your vanity. You picked it up off the counter, Dean holding it up and looking at his face. “Alright. Can you get me-”

“Stop. I got this.” You used a washcloth and got it wet again, holding it against his cheek and around his eye. He tried looking down but kept moving his head and you settled on putting some more cold water on the towel, pressing it over his skin again. When it seemed like the bleeding had stopped you dug out some medication, dabbing it over the cuts. He was quiet, holding his side while you put a butterfly bandage over his cheek. You peeled his hand away and figured there wasn’t much you could do for his ribs.

You went downstairs and got some painkillers and an ice pack, returning to Dean right where you left him.

“Here,” you said, dropping the pills in his hand. He took them with a quick gulp of water, hissing as the cold touched his skin but he soon relaxed. You held the pack for him, Dean taking a deep breath. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Dean. Your dad just-”

“This is not the first time and it probably won’t be the last,” he said.

“Now I’m definitely calling the cops,” you said. You reached for your phone but he grabbed it first, holding it over his head. “Dean. He hurt you. He can’t just come into our house and do that.”

“What I need you to do is take my debit card, go to the ATM and take out five thousand from my savings and five thousand from checking. Hundreds is fine. Okay?” he said. “The PIN is-”

“I’m not doing anything other than putting you in bed,” you said. He glared and you gave it right back. You grabbed his arm and pushed him into the room and over to the bed, Dean laying back against the headboard reluctantly. “Why on earth do you-”

“It’s how I got Sam,” he said. “Custody of him when I was eighteen. We didn’t go to court. I paid them off. It was five grand at first and it tied them over for a bit but when he turned eighteen, they called and wanted more. Every three years they call. Last time it got bumped up to ten thousand. They called around the time I met you and I didn’t pay this year hence the ass kicking.”

“But why do you still pay them off?” you asked.

“Because Y/N,” he said. You crossed your arms and he slammed his fist against his pillow. “Because Sam was the favorite. He didn’t get the shit kicked…”

Dean trailed off and shut his mouth, looking away. You sat up next to him, holding his free hand and holding him as best you could.

“I got the worst of it but that’s not to say Sam didn’t get some. I knew, I knew that fucker would hurt him once I was gone and I couldn’t stay so Sam had to come with me. I tried looking up how to get custody and that sort of thing and they found out about it,” said Dean. He laughed and you ran your hand through his hair. “Tonight? That was nothing compared to what happened after they found out. But my drunk of a father, well, he owed money and I had some saved up from working for my Uncle Bobby. So I paid to get Sam the fuck out of there. They claimed it was because they were going to travel and wanted Sam to be able to stay in school and shit. It was all shit. Now...now they tried their best to make him hate me on the way out, make it seem like I was stealing him from them. Plant those little seeds. You can’t kill an idea once it’s in there. So I did what I had to and I keep doing what I have to and they stay away from us. It’s how it goes.”

“Do you...do you pay them not to hurt you?” you asked.

“No.”

“Then what’s it for?”

“He will hate me if he knows the truth.”

“Dean he won’t-”

“Our parents fucked us up. I literally bought custody of my baby brother. How is that not fucked up?”

“It’s a fucked up situation. You though, you are not fucked up,” you said as he rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. Your father is...a monster and I don’t know what the fuck is up with your mom but you are good. Sam is good. You have the biggest fucking heart of anyone I’ve ever known. Sam would never hate you for getting him out of that situation. Never. But I don’t understand why you keep paying them money, Dean.”

“So they don’t tell him the truth.”

“The truth doesn’t sound all that bad though. He-”

“If he finds out I’ve lied to him for half of his life, he will not forgive me for that. We tell each other all our crap because we’re the only ones that can understand what went on in that house and I can’t risk losing him.”

“There’s more to it,” you said. Dean shut his eyes and nodded. “Dean, what is it?”

“I stole money,” he said. “When I was eighteen. We needed food and rich people don’t notice when twenty, fifty bucks goes missing out of a drawer. If you just take a little, they don’t notice. Well, my father found out about it and threatened to have me arrested if we didn’t come to some kind of payment plan. He was proof and I don’t deny I did it. We needed-”

“You stole from my dad,” you said.

“I did. Money out of his desk drawer at work. He caught me red handed and in one second I thought my life and Sam’s lives were over. I just...started crying and he shut the door and he gave me some money and he took the rest of the afternoon off and we got some stuff like clothes and toothpaste and food and he gave me a job as a paralegal intern. I had no fucking idea what I was doing and he helped me get into school and I worked there and made way more than I did in the mailroom and he’d have dinner with Sammy and me at our place once a month. You have no idea how badly I wanted him to my dad. But we knew he had a real family so we tried not to bother him. By the time I got into med school, Sam was going into his first year and we were on our feet. I’d gotten a good job at a medical place but he checked in every once in a while. I didn’t know he’d died until I met you. I always thought we’d take him out and repay him someday. If he wasn’t kind that day...I’d have nothing.”

“I’ll share my father with you and Sam any day.” He smiled and you kissed him, Dean starting to relax. “So your dad has proof of you stealing money? How much?”

“I wasn’t particularly great at it. Sam and I both had jobs. It was probably a hundred bucks,” he said.

“How’d he get proof?” you asked.

“What do you mean?”

“How would he have proof of you stealing from some random person?” you asked.

“He has photos,” he said. “He showed me.”

“Photos of…”

“Me with the money.”

“Outside of someone’s house?” you asked.

“I was in my car,” he said.

“Dean. Where was the car?”

“Outside...work,” he said, thinking to himself. “Your dad...he gave me money that day. There was never any proof. I just let him manipulate me again into doing what he wanted.”

“How much did you steal Dean. Altogether?”

“A few hundred bucks?”

“You donate some money to charity?” you asked as he nodded. “Your debt to society has been repaid, trust me. No more feeling guilty. Plus when my dad the lawyer lets you off the hook, it’s fine.”

“Sam still can’t know.”

“Sam’s been outside the door for most of this conversation,” he said. He turned around the corner, Tessa there with him. “Fuck, Dean. What happened to your face?”

“Are you okay?” Tessa asked, climbing up on the bed.

“I thought you had a hot date,” he said. “The both of you.”

“Jack’s just a friend,” she said.

“Eileen understands,” said Sam. “Besides, we both got a bad feeling after mom and dad showed up like that.”

“You really thought it was appropriate for an 18 year old to hear all that?” asked Dean.

“Considering all the shit I just learned about you at 18, I’d say I’m good,” said Tessa. She fidgeted a little and Dean sat up more.

“You can hug him. Carefully,” you said. She moved up to his other side and gave him a gentle one, Dean chuckling.

“I love you too, dork,” he said. He watched with a swallow as Sam stepped inside and moved the icepack from Dean’s body. Dean stared up and Sam sat on the edge of the bed, placing the pack back. “I’m-”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing,” said Sam. “You protected me and that’s all there was to it. Everytime she calls, talking to her tonight, I still get manipulated too. I don’t know why they hate us so much and it’s wrong but you aren’t. Not you.”

“Y/N’s offered up their parents if we’d like to take ‘em,” said Dean.

“Mr. Y/L/N was your guys dad?” said Sam as you and Tessa nodded. “You know I met you once Tessa. You must have been five. You were bragging about something to do with kindergarten.”

“How’d you remember that?” she asked.

“Cause I was so fucking jealous of you. You were so happy,” he said. She looked down but Sam laughed. “It worked out how it was supposed to.”

“You’re a lawyer, can’t you like, do something?” she said, glancing at Dean.

“Tessa, this isn’t that simple,” said Dean.

“Yeah, it is,” she said. He nodded and she relaxed some. “I don’t think you should pay anything. He should pay you while he’s at it.”

“Yeah,” he said, ruffling her head and wrapping his arm around her. He looked at Sam and then you before you nodded. He wouldn’t say anything about his father. Sam was grown and bigger than himself yet Dean still kept paying. With you and Tessa around, there was no way he was risking a thing.

“Sam,” you said. You both got up, Dean pouting when he realized he wasn’t getting up without some help. You walked down to Sam’s room and he shut the door, crossing his arms. “We can’t let him keep paying off your father. Tessa has a point. You’re a lawyer. What are our options?”

“There’s not blackmail evidence and our parents would claim it was a gift. The only things I can think of that we’d have a shot would be the incident tonight which he’d be out on bail like that anyways and...stuff that happened when we were kids.”

“Sam he came to our house.”

“I know,” he said, rubbing your arms. “Dean always gets quiet for a few days after something like this happens. Nobody is paying anything. I’ll make sure Dean doesn’t leave the house tomorrow morning.”

“What do you think John would do? Will do?”

“I don’t know. He’s an abusive dick, not a psychopath.”

“Did you ever tell my dad about this stuff?”

“Dean did a bit I think.”

“Good,” you said as you left the room.

“Why good?”

“Because if I know my dad, he made a note of it and put it on record with a judge,” you said as you headed downstairs.

“Y/N,” said Dean from the end of the hall, leaning on Tessa. “Where are you going?”

“To see if dad ever reported John. Or at least kept a file on him. We still know the partners at his old firm. I’ll be back in an hour,” you said. “Two tops.”

“Sam go with her,” said Dean. “Please.”

“Tessa, put him back in bed and get him a fresh icepack in fifteen minutes. Get some food too, okay?” you said, tugging on your winter coat. “Oh and take Toast-”

“I got it,” she said.

“We’ll be back soon,” said Sam. “Hopefully with some good news.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 8 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #doctor!dean #au!dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #dean #winchester #dean spn #doctor!dean x reader

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

Nice to meet you, where you been?

Chapter 2 of In Breakable Heaven!

Summary: Reader becomes acquainted with some members of the BAU.

Warnings: none that I can think of!

Word Count: ~1900

Penny came back out to the foyer, handing you the oversized t-shirt and shorts you left here last time you slept over. You pulled them on quickly, following Penny to the living room where you instantly realized, it was more than just you, Penny, and the tall man in the apartment. You stopped moving as you took in the additional new faces. You had never met Penny’s team before, but she had talked about them a ton. You blushed again thinking of how you must look a mess right now.

“Everyone, this is Y/N! She is my very best friend and she is very sad so we are going to cheer her up.” Penny started the introductions. “Y/N, this is Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau aka JJ, and Emily Prentiss.” You took in the names as Penny went around the room. Eyes bouncing between a very muscular bald man and two of the most attractive women you’ve ever seen. “Oh, and for a more formal introduction, this is Dr. Spencer Reid, although you two met at the door.” Your eyes attempted to meet his again, but he was staring at the ground. You couldn’t help the whisper that escaped your lips “Doctor.”

Either the profilers didn’t hear it, or chose to ignore it, along with the blush forming on your cheeks yet again. You looked around the room again and couldn’t stop yourself from speaking your thoughts. “God, is it a requirement to be hot as hell to work for the FBI?” Everyone laughed as you threw your hand over your mouth, eyes widening. “Oh God. That’s embarrassing. It’s true though, what a good looking team.” That earned more laughter form the group.

It was clear they were all wondering why you had just sobbed into their coworkers adorable sweater vest. You waited a beat hoping someone would say something. But since they were all staring at you, and you hate awkward silences, you couldn’t help but blurt out “today was my 3 year anniversary with my boyfriend,” Not noticing the slight frown appear on Spencer’s face, you continued “but I went over to his place and found him in bed with another woman. So now I am very drunk.” Their faces all softened, offering slight words of encouragement as you sunk into the sofa and picked up the bottle of white wine from the table. Not even bothering with a glass, you started drinking again. You drank nearly half the bottle before taking a breath.

“Woah” you heard someone say, but honestly you didn’t know who. “Why don’t we play a game or something? Maybe switch to water so you don’t completely hate yourself tomorrow?” You realized it was JJ talking. “I am always down – hiccup – for a game. I must warn you, I am extremely competitive though. Plus, I don’t get hungover so I’ll be fine.” You looked at their disbelieving faces. “Fine” you muttered, annoyed at having to explain this again, “I’ll switch to water for a bit. But only because I want to win.”

Penny went to get the cards, confirming your statement “Y/N is right ya know. She has never been hungover. I’ve seen her drink countless tequila shots, chase them each with a wine cooler and clean her entire apartment before 8 AM the next day.”

“Impressive.” Derek smirked as he looked at you.

“What can I say? It really boosts my productivity.” The room chuckled as the hot doctor chimed in.

“Your liver is responsible for breaking down all the alcohol you consume into an enzyme called acetaldehyde, the toxin responsible for hangovers. Recent studies have shown about 23% of people are able to break down the acetaldehyde much faster resulting in little to no hangover symptoms. Whether or not you experience hangovers is based 45% on genetics.” You looked over to him, wildly impressed with the first words you’ve heard him say.

“What’s the other 55% based on?” You asked, intrigued to finally know why you don’t actually experience hangovers. He looked surprised as he met your eyes for the first time since you entered the room.

“It’s actually a mixture of volume of alcohol, water, and food consumption.” You chuckled as he said this.

“Well, it must be genetics for me because there are a few times I remember making very bad choices…” You felt the thought slip away as Dr. Spencer Reid smiled at you.

“How can she even do simple math right now? Based on the story she’s had 10 drinks in the last 3 hours?” Emily whispered to JJ and Derek. They exchanged glances as Penny finally sat back down with the cards.

“What should we play?” She asked the room, but mostly you. You could already feel your competitive edge creeping in as you tore your eyes from Spencer’s to suggest one of your favorite group games. “Egyptian Rat Screw!” It should be especially fun since you were all drinking. Nobody seemed to know the game though, so you quickly explained the rules as you took the cards to shuffle and deal.

“Remember, whoever gets all the cards wins. Slap sandwiches and doubles. Royals have the special rules we just talked about. If you slap and there’s nothing there, you have to put a card in the bottom of the pile.” You said as everyone got situated around the table unsure what to expect. “Ready?” you asked, a mischievous grin on your face.

After winning the first two games you couldn’t help but tease everyone “I am definitely the drunkest one here. I thought a group of FBI agents would have better reaction times!” You giggled as everyone laughed along with you. You dealt the cards into five piles, one for each agent. “No cards for you?” Derek asked. “Nope.” You popped the “p” as you took in their confused faces. “I’m going to start with no cards and see if I still win.” There was a clear competitive glint in your eyes, with a matching smirk. They seemed disbelieving that you would pull out another win, but continued along with the game.

You hadn’t even tried slapping the table until there was only Spencer and Derek left with cards. Emily, JJ, and Penelope were chatting aimlessly, having lost interest a few minutes ago. You sat up and stared at the ever growing pile of cards. The whole game was basically memorizing the order of cards, or at least the general timeline. You knew as soon as Derek played his jack, Spencer would follow with an identical card. As you spotted the first jack hit the pile, Derek taunted Spencer “Haha pretty boy, one chance to get a royal or I’m pulling in the big pile.” The two of them seemed to have forgotten that you could get back in the game. Spencer smiled as he flipped over what you knew to be a jack. It was clear from the smirk on his face he knew it was a jack as well. What he didn’t count on was your cat-like reflexes slapping the pile before he could finish laughing at Derek’s sad face.

The two of them looked shocked as you picked up the cards, readying them for the next set of flipping. “Damn girl, I thought you forgot how to play.” Derek laughed at the smug grin you were wearing. He only had two cards left. Easily knocking Derek from the game, he joined the side conversation being had in the kitchen as he resigned to another round lost. You turned to Spencer, almost whispering “Looks like it’s just you and me, Doctor.” Spencer looked up from his cards stating, “you sound pretty confident considering your opponent has an eidetic memory and knows the exact order of both our hands.” You stuck your tongue out as you placed your first card. “Not fair.”

Minutes passed as the game drew on, neither player really making an advance. You yawned as you flipped another card onto the table, losing focus for just a second. Reid recognized the pattern emerging, getting ready to slap after your next card. You forgot to look at the potential for a sandwich, playing your next card. You noticed it a second to late as you slapped your hand down. Spencer beat you too it though, and when your hand landed it was on top of his. You didn’t move at first, shocked to have lost so many cards at once. Spencer was gloating as you picked up his hand and put it on top of yours.

He finally looked down to see you pulling the cards toward you before jumping up to get them back. You held the cards close to your heart, faking the offense you felt at his suggestion that you would cheat, despite your very obvious cheating. When he reached for the cards, you backed up into the couch, holding them above your head. He knelt over you, leaning forward to reach your outstretched hand, forgetting for just a second that he really didn’t know you at all and being this close should make him uncomfortable.

You shrieked as he tickled your sides to pull the cards in. He was gloating yet again as he pulled them from your grasp, not realizing how close the two of you had become. The two of you froze yet again as you felt that same magnetic force as earlier pulling you closer as you looked into his eyes. He cleared his through as he sat up, returning to his seat to finish the game.

The two of you continued the game until you only had a few cards left. “It appears as though your winning streak is quickly coming to an end.” Spencer joked with you, playing a queen. He was clearly trying to ease whatever tension was lingering from your couch experience. You glanced at the cards in the middle of the table. It must have been 45 cards in the pile. You switched tactics to playing the cards as quick as possible to prevent another mistake.

A queen meant playing two cards in a row. You knew you had two sevens in a row in your hand, so you were ready to take him down. You glanced up stating “Rule 1: The Doctor lies.” You stated matter-of-factly as you flipped over your first seven. “Oh, and don’t blink.” You said, playing the second and slapping it before he finished comprehending your two Doctor Who references. You just had an instinctual feeling that Doctor Who would distract him.

You finished the game with relative ease as the others made their way back into the room. You celebrated as you took the rest of his cards, completing the game and adding another tally to the mental scoreboard you had in your head. As everyone sat back down, you put the cards away. It was now 12:30 in the morning and suddenly you were exhausted. You rose from your seat, putting your coat back on your shoulders. “I should go home” you said, earning stares from everyone.

“You are completely welcome to stay the night here!” Penelope said as you continued preparing to leave.

“Thank you, Penelope, but I already feel so much better.” You chanced a glance at Spencer to see him staring right back. “I want to go home and lay in my bed and throw all his stuff out the window. Plus I could really use some fresh air right now.” Everyone started to verbally object now. Sometimes you forgot what Penelope does for a living and how much she’s seen. “No really, I’ll be fine.” You continued, “I live in The City Block, it’s only half a mile from here!” This did nothing to satisfy the worried looks on the five faces staring back at you.

“That’s on the way to my building.” Spencer stated. “I’ll walk with you, okay?” You looked up, surprised. Slowly a small smile appeared on your face. “Okay.” Somehow that was all you could manage. Everyone said their goodbyes as you and Spencer made your way out of the apartment and started walking down the street.

tag list:

@mac99martin @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader

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fific7 · 3 years

Text

There May Be Trouble Ahead - Part 1

John Whittaker x Reader

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s all lemon zest 🍋 because the world deserves more of the over-eager puppy that is the handsome Johnny Whittaker. And puppies need discipline.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral between consenting adults*. Some drinking.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(Not my GIF, credit to owner)

The tennis ball whizzed past your ear, missing it by a whisper. Several strands of hair were pulled from underneath your cloche hat by the force of the resulting breeze it created as it travelled past your head.

“Sorry!” you heard a male voice calling and looked round to see a tall, lean figure bounding towards you, tennis racquet in hand. “So very sorry! That was my absolutely pitiful serve.”

You tucked the errant strands of hair back under the brim of your hat, and bestowed a small frosty smile on him. “Are you being taught?”

A pair of sparkling dark eyes looked back at you, a confused look in them. He ran his fingers through his equally dark hair, pushing it back off his forehead where it had flopped during his gallop over to you.

“Tennis,” you clarified, “Are you being taught how to play?” “Ummm...no?” he replied, confusion still reigning on his face.

Smirking, you looked up at him and intoned in a serious voice, “Well, you should be. Because you’re atrocious at it.”

“Ha...yes... I do believe you have a point,” he said, an embarrassed look on his face. “Can you ever forgive me? Would a glass of champagne help to restore my standing with you, Miss.. er...?”

You gave him your name, before saying, “You didn’t have any standing with me before this incident so how can you restore it?” He gave you a big grin, “Another good point! How about I create a standing with you, then? I have a feeling we could become really good friends!”

He ignored your sceptical look and stuck his hand out towards you, “John Whittaker, very much at your service!” As you reached - out of politeness - to shake his hand, he grasped your hand and brought it to his lips instead, ghosting a kiss over your knuckles and gazing at you through his long lashes as he did so.

You felt the barest fluttering of butterflies in your stomach. This gentleman was going to problematic, you could tell.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Reaching the art gallery where you worked as a conservator, your thoughts wandered back to the young man you’d encountered earlier. He reminded you very much of an over-sized, over-enthusiastic puppy. But a very good-looking one. And well-presented too, despite his slightly dishevelled appearance following his tennis match.

You were still slightly surprised at yourself, having accepted his invitation to partake of some champagne at one of the large hotels in the area later that evening. Your usual type of chap was more bookish, less flighty than your new acquaintance seemed to be.

Oh well, variety is the spice of life.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

John Whittaker came hurtling down the staircase in his large and stately home, swinging himself right round the large carved pineapple at the bottom of the banister rail, landing on his feet with a thump right in front of his not so large and stately mother.

“John!” exclaimed Veronica in an annoyed voice, “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times…!” He landed a kiss on his mother’s cheek, “Sorry, mater - but it’s the only way I know how to come downstairs.” Planting an additional kiss on her other cheek, he continued, “I have a date in town, darling mama, so don’t wait up!” He headed for the imposing front door while his mother asked him hurriedly with whom he was meeting. He ignored her but his sister Marion, having heard the commotion and appearing suddenly from the sitting room, smugly supplied the answer.

“Some woman he met only this afternoon, Mama, I overheard him telling Hilda.”

“Traitor!” yelled John over his shoulder as the front door slammed behind him.

“That boy!” said his mother, “He will be the death of me!”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

John jumped athletically into his open-topped sports car and started it up. The girl he was meeting had really piqued his interest. She was beautiful but enigmatic.

He’d attempted to get some personal information from her after his tennis ball had nearly brained her as she’d been passing by, but apart from agreeing to meet him later at The Grand (which had put a huge smile on his face) she’d fobbed him off and hurried away. He didn’t think it would be seemly to chase after her.

He stopped at a junction and as he turned the car towards town, he sighed. He hadn’t had too much luck with the ladies so far in his life. What with the divorce from Larita - he shuddered at the thought, what a mistake that marriage had been! - and the train wreck of a relationship with Sarah… well.

He thought to himself that he was due a bit of luck in that area, surely?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You arrived ten minutes after the time you’d agreed to meet, not wishing to appear too keen. Well, you shouldn’t, should you?

Walking into the gilded elegance of The Grand, you felt slightly underdressed as you hadn’t had time to go home and change. But at least you didn’t smell of paint and white spirit, your afternoon having been spent reviewing canvases for restoration. Asking the concierge where the bar was situated, he pointed you in the general direction with a slightly disdainful look.

Smiling to yourself as you headed towards it, you wondered if he thought you were perhaps a working girl, so to speak, although how you were dressed could hardly be classed as being provocative in any way. You wore a plain white blouse and a mid-calf black pencil skirt with low heels and your trusty grey day coat, which was uplifted by its discreet darker grey faux fur collar.

Reaching the bar, you spotted your new acquaintance sitting at a table, dressed in smart dark beige trousers and a white shirt with a burnt orange V-neck jumper over it. A wine cooler was sitting in a stand next to his table, an uncorked bottle of champagne nestling in it. He was looking rather forlorn, and you realised he probably thought you’d stood him up.

“Hello again,” you said, seeing his face light up as you spoke. “Hello again!” he echoed, leaping up and rushing round the table to pull your chair out, asking at the same time if you wished to check your coat in. You smiled and shook your head, but you did remove it and place it over the back of your chair. If the evening disappointed, you wished to be able to make a speedy exit.

Settling yourself at the table as John pushed your chair in for you, you watched him wave off a hovering waiter and then reach for the bottle of champagne himself and expertly open it, with a fairly small ‘pop’ and no spillage. He filled two flutes, waiting for the drink to quieten down before topping them up and handing one to you. He finally sat back down, holding up his own glass and you clinked yours against his, as he said “Chin-chin!” with you repeating the toast.

He lounged back in his seat, smiling at you, “You look very businesslike. Businesslike… and beautiful.” You felt a blush rising in your cheeks although you willed it not to. “Thank you. I think,” you replied. “Oh it was definitely a compliment,” he grinned, “…I’ve been avidly thinking about you the whole afternoon.” You gave him an amused look, “Oh, really? And what thoughts were you thinking about me?”

He leant in towards you, dark eyes gazing into yours, “Ah. They were very specific thoughts. About how I want to learn everything there is to know about you.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He was a silver-tongued charmer, you decided as you heard his answer. “What would you like to know?” “Everything.” You laughed, “I don’t think it’s possible to ever know everything about someone.” He looked pensive, “I think you’re very possibly correct.” “I’ll tell you something about me in return for the same information about you.” He laughed, “Perfect! That’s an admirable solution. You go first.”

So you both began with the basics, age (he was three years older than you), place of birth, education. You then informed him of what your chosen career was, and his eyes widened with interest. “Tell me more!” he said, “It sounds fascinating.” “You need to tell me what you do for a living first.” He looked embarrassed, picking up his glass and sipping from it. “I… umm.. don’t really do anything much.” Your eyebrows raised themselves, and he hurried on, “I look after our family estate. Trying to save it from sinking like the Titanic.”

“Oh,” you said, a little amazed, “I see.” He leant forward, “Has that put you off me?” he asked, anxiously. You smiled, “Not yet.”

“Well, thank the lord for that,” he exhaled, “I thought it might.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

John listened eagerly as she described her job, disagreeing with her when she said it wasn’t terribly interesting at all. He was still feeling relieved that she hadn’t run out of the room when he said he was the heir to a crumbling estate. She’d mentioned that she didn’t need to work, but she’d chosen to work. He thought that was astonishing and admirable.

He had a bright idea. He’d invite her for tea. Then he’d see what she really thought about him. And after the absolute car crash of the first meeting with Larita, this new lady friend of his would be seen by his family as a huge improvement.

He felt a slight sinking feeling in his stomach. He hadn’t yet mentioned that he was divorced. Oh. Well, no time like the present.

“I’m divorced,” he blurted out while she was still speaking to him about her work.

He watched her eyes widen and thought, “Damn! That’s blown it, for sure.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You stopped speaking as he made his admission of divorce, absolutely astounded. For some reason, you couldn’t imagine him as having been married, never mind divorced.

“Divorced?” you repeated, feeling like a parrot. He nodded, eyes wide and fearful. “That’s.. unexpected.” He nodded once more, “Dreadfully scandalous, I’m afraid. I met an American woman in the South of France and, well, we got married almost on the spot.”

He looked down, before meeting your eyes again, “That was a horrible, awful decision on my part. We should never have got married. Had a fling, maybe - then moved on. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He smiled sadly, “I hope I’m slightly less of a fool these days.”

You wondered what to do. Maybe you should just run screaming from the room. But you liked him, he seemed like a genuinely nice man. So instead you heard yourself saying, “I hope so too.”

He smiled, covering your hand with his, “Can I entice you to come to tea? See the old pile? Meet the family?”

“It seems very quick to be meeting your family… however I’ll say yes, John, you can.”

Silently you were praying you wouldn’t regret agreeing to this.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@paracosmenthusiast

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

#john whittaker x reader #john whittaker #easy virtue #john whittaker fanfic #john whittaker imagine #ben barnes #john whittaker fanfiction

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rjhpandapaws · 3 years

Text

A Cup of Something Better

Chapter 14: Lessons in Misreading the Room

Hank had been right, he had been worrying too much about his nurse’s exam. It was easer than he was expecting it to be, now he just had to wait a week for the results to be posted. He knew it would be a while before they were posted, but he was still checking his phone pretty regularly despite only having finished the exam the day before. “Alright, give me that.” Hank said and held his hand out across the table. His tone was stern but his expression was general, “We’re here to celebrate you finishing your nurses exam not to sit and worry about the results.” “Right.” He locked his phone and put it away, opting for his bag instead of his pocket. “ I know the results won’t be posted yet, but I keep thinking that I’m going to get a message that I failed.” “Connor.” Hank put his hand over his and squeezed it, “You didn’t fail, not with how much time you took to prepare. I know you’re worried because this one decides a lot for you, but you also said that it wasn’t as difficult as you had thought. That was because you were ready for it. There’s not a doubt in my mind that you passed, so just relax.” “Have you met me Hank?” Connor half joked and Hank rolled his eyes. “A tall order, I know.” Hank said dryly. “But seriously Connor, take some time to catch your breath. It will be fine I promise.”

Connor sighed and changed gears as best he could although his worry was still gnawing at him, “So how are the manuscripts coming?” Hank barked out a laugh, “Wow, I tell you to relax and you attack me.” He let go of Connor’s hand and he was tempted to chase it, “They’re going, and I’m a bit stuck on them both if I’m honest.” Connor laughed as well, “I was only trying to make conversation.” Hank rolled his eyes and took a drink from his latte. Connor reached for his own and found it empty so he stood up. “I’m going to get another coffee. Do you want one as well?” He asked. “Yes please.” Hank replied, “Mind ordering them to go? There’s more I wanted to do today to celebrate.” “Alright.” Connor agreed and did what he could to keep the suspicion out of his voice, “Meet you at the car then?” “Sure.” Hank responded and Connor made his way to the short line after he made sure he had his wallet. Hank had this day planned for when he had finished his semester finals, but since Connor had basically been an overly emotional pile of jello when they had ended, they moved it to after his nurse’s exam. Now that it had passed there was no more putting it off. He had no reason to be nervous, yet he was.

Hank wasn’t his professor anymore, the only thing he really had to worry about was Ezra, but she wasn’t any of his business. Yet he still found himself anxious. What if he was reading too much into this? What if Hank only saw him as a friend? He shook his head to clear away those thoughts. They were celebrating today, the very least he could do was try and enjoy it. He stepped up to the counter and immediately wished he had asked Hank>” to get the coffee. North was working the counter and Josh was working the bar. They were both going to give him shit, they always did. Save for the new girl, all of his coworkers were under the impression that Hank was interested in him. They were only friends, and that seemed to be how it was going to stay. “Taking the date on the road?” North asked in way of a greeting, “To go refills I’m guessing.” Connor rolled his eyes, “Its not a date North, but yeah, We’re heading out.” “He held your hand for like a whole minute.” She pushed as he handed her the cash. “I was panicking over my exam. It didn’t mean anything.” He pushed back. “Did you want it to?” She asked and Connor hesitated. “That doesn’t matter.” Connor replied as he moved to the other counter. He could wish it to have meant something all he liked, but it wouldn’t change the fact that it hadn’t. Hank was just friendly like that. There was nothing more to it unfortunately.

Josh seemed to be better at reading the atmosphere than North had been because when he handed Connor the drinks he didn’t have much to say. “Tell Hank hello when you see him; and Connor, relax you did fine. I’m sure.” Connor gave a nod and lifted one of the cups in place of a wave as he left. He didn’t know what they were seeing from Hank that was making him think that he was interested in Connor. They were only friends, and Hank didn’t really seem interested in him as it was so he planned to leave it alone. He walked around the corner into the side lot where Hank had said he was parked. Hank smiled when he saw him but it quickly turned into a look of concern soon after. “You alright Con? You look like someone intentionally gave you decaf.” Hank said as Connor handed him his drink. “North was being her usual pleasant self.” Connor said flatly, “Also Josh says hello.” “Hello to Josh then.” Hank remarked as Connor made his way to the passenger’s side of the car, “Ready to head back to the house?” “Yeah, my dog has apparently missed me.” Connor joked as he got into the old beat up car. “Your dog?” Hank said with mock offense as he started the car, “You’ve only spent one weekend with him.”

“It was love at first sight Hank, I’m telling you.” He laughed and Hank joined him as he pulled out of the parking lot. “You let him onto the couch didn’t you?” Hank said with mock accusation to his voice. “How dare you suggest such a thing.” Connor replied placing a hand over his heart like he had been personally offended, “I obeyed all of the rules.” “Which is exactly why my massive fucking Saint Bernard has decided to become a four legged tripping hazard every time I set foot in my kitchen.” Hank pressed with a slight smile. “So I might have fed him a little.” Connor admitted and Hank quirked a brow, “At each meal.” Hank shook his head and chuckled, “Only you would give in.” “I’m weak okay?” Connor laughed. Connor found himself in a good mood again. It seemed easy for Hank, both to notice when he was caught in his own head as well as get him out of it. A crack of a joke or a simple conversation and Connor felt fine again. He knew why, it was because he liked Hank. He had fallen for the first man to show him kindness as he always did. He had plans to keep it to himself though. Hank had enough going on without having to pry one of his former students off of himself. Instead Connor would treasure the days like this and the times he would get to see Hank at the cafe.

“You’re pulling away from me again.” Hank said as he pulled himself into the driveway, “Is the exam really bothering you that much?” “Ah, no. I was just thinking.” Connor replied. It wasn’t quite a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Hank eyed him skeptically, but didn’t push it much to Connor’s relief. “I’m here if you want to share, but for now we should probably head inside before Sumo breaks the door down.” Connor laughed and opened his door, “That’s a good plan.” When they got closer to the door Connor could hear Sumo’s excited barking from inside. Connor found himself smiling as Hank opened the door. “Get back you big lug. He can’t pet you if he can’t get into the fucking house.” Hank gruffed and Connor heard the effort that went into moving Sumo away from the door. Connor barely set foot in the house when he was knocked back against the door by an overly excited Sumo, “Hey buddy, I told you I would be back soon.” He said as he pet Sumo who’s head was nearly level with his own given that Sumo was standing on his hind legs. He licked a wet stripe up Connor’s face and he laughed, “Yes, I missed you too, I promise.”

“Sumo, get down.” Hank said firmly, and Sumo hesitated for a moment before he obeyed. Connor straightened his clothes out of habit and then stepped out of his shoes. Sumo didn’t let him get too far out of his sight and Connor pet him near constantly. “I have never seen him so excited to see someone again.” Hank said as they settled onto the couch, “Normally he sticks to me like glue, this feels almost like betrayal.” Sumo was sitting in front of the couch with his front paws and head in Connor’s lap. He smiled at Hank, “I suppose its because he knows who the softer touch is.” “That’s a word for it.” Hank laughed, “So are we going to try and catch up on House today?” “I don’t know how far we’re going to get since you said you have plans for later.” Connor replied as he reached out to pet Sumo. “We have plans for later, this is part of your surprise.” Hank said as the show started up. Connor knew better than to object and settled in as the show started up. Hank liked House for the mystery aspect and Connor liked it for the blatant medical fantasy. It was a show that they both genuinely enjoyed and enjoyed making fun of. Connor found himself laughing unexpectedly at some of Hank’s more sarcastic comments. It was more given the combination of wit and timing than finding them genuinely funny. It was a nice way to unwind as take his mind off of things. Hank was always a pleasant distraction.

A couple of hours in Hank brought two bottles of light beer over to the coffee table. Connor reached for his and took a drink and winced at the taste. He wasn’t much of a drinker usually but he always had one beer when he was with Hank. Once he got past the taste and the alcohol hit it was relaxing. It was just a matter of getting over the taste. “I forget that you don’t drink often. I could get you something different if you would like.” Hank offered as he sat down and Connor leaned forward so Hank could get comfortable before Connor leaned back against him again. “I can handle one beer Hank, I’m not that weak.” Connor said in protest despite the disgust lingering in his voice, “I just have to get used to the taste again.” Hank put his arm up over the back of the couch and hit play again, “Next time I’m out I’ll grab some wine coolers for you.” “Thanks.” Connor said as they show started up. They got another four episodes in before Hank’s phone began to ring playing a metal song Connor hadn’t heard before. He jumped and wound up setting his beer bottle down with more force than he intended to as Hank swore under his breath and scrambled to shut off the music.

“Sorry about that.” Hank said once it was quiet, “I had that set in case I fell asleep. Its time to head out so we don’t miss our reservation. Do you mind feeding Sumo while I get ready.” “Of course.” Connor said as he stood up, “Come on Sumo, its dinner time.” He coaxed the Saint Bernard into the kitchen to get him his dinner. He put him through a couple of tricks before he set the dish on the floor so he could eat. With that done he picked up the living room, threw away the beer bottles, and folded the blankets they had been under. Hank came down the hall in one of his usual loud button downs and black jeans. His hair was tied back and he had his glasses on again. Connor was not ready for that sight and swallowed thickly. What a time to have a fucking crush he supposed. “You ready to head out Con?” Hank asked. Connor swallowed again and tried to figured out how to speak, “Uh, yeah, I’m ready.” He said after a long moment. “Alright, then let’s head on out.” Hank said gesturing toward the door. Connor nodded again and made his way toward the door, put his shoes back on and reached for his jacket. Hank did the same then opened the door for Connor and they headed for the car.

Hank played jazz as they drove back into the city. They made small talk on the way but Hank didn’t seem all that inclined to tell Connor where they were going. It didn’t matter how Connor phrased the question, Hank would just give him that half smile that melted his resolve a little more and tell him that it was a surprise then change the subject. To be frank, Connor’s curiosity was killing him slowly. Connor opened his mouth to ask him again, but Hank beat him to it, “If I told you then it wouldn’t be a surprise. That, and we’re almost there, just be patient.” “Hank.” He groaned and the man in mention only laughed. “You’ll like it, I promise.” He assured before he changed the subject again, “How has work been?” “Its been alright, not as busy as it is when classes are in session.” Connor responded, “We’re going to be training another new girl starting next week.” Hank nodded as he pulled into a parking garage, “Because Josh is going to start his student teaching right?” “Yup.” Connor replied as he looked around trying to get an idea of where they were, “I may have to cut back on my hours as well depending on how the nursing program treats me.” “I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Hank said as he pulled into a parking place, “We’re here.”

“Are you anymore inclined to tell me what are doing?” Connor asked again. “No, but I am willing to tell you that it’s my treat.” Hank replied, “I don’t want a repeat of the last time we got coffee.” “I ask for the bill one time and you never let it go.” Connor grumbled with mock annoyance, “I was trying to be a gentleman.” “It was greatly appreciated, but this time its my turn Connor.” Hank said as he opened his door. “Thank you Hank.” Connor said as he got out as well. They walked side by side to the bank of elevators and Connor tried to guess what they were going to do. Hank had mentioned reservations so he had to assume that dinner or something similar was involved. A nice place probably considering as reservations were needed. The thought made Connor a little nervous, it seemed like a lot to do just for finishing his exams. He didn’t want to read too far into this because Hank wasn’t interested in him, but he couldn’t help but think that this felt almost like a date. Hank hit the call button, “You have a good memory, think that you can remember that we’re on the lavender level?” “Uh yeah.” Connor replied as he was pulled from his thoughts, “The lavender level, got it.” “I knew I was in good hands.” Hank said with another pleasant smile.

The elevator to the far right opened and they made their way toward it. Connor still didn’t know all of what was happening, but Hank seemed pretty excited and it was contagious and Connor found himself smiling as well. When the elevator opened on the street level they stepped out and Hank took his hand to lead him down the busy sidewalk. Connor knew it was so they wouldn’t get separated, but he still smiled and curled his fingers around Hank’s hand. He could pretend for now. They stopped at a restaurant with a name that Connor couldn’t pronounce, but it looked fancy. He hesitated at the door and Hank pulled him inside and gave him a reassuring smile. Once they were inside Hank let go of his hand and made his way to the podium. Connor looked down at his hand and then toward Hank’s back. He needed to get ahold of himself, being this emotional was unbecoming; he was better than this. “Alright Con, let’s go.” Hank’s voice broke through his thoughts. He gave a sharp nod and followed Hank and the waiter back into the restaurant. Even the atmosphere of this place seemed expensive and he felt nervous and out of place. Hank took his hand again and squeezed it. They were brought to a booth along the far wall. Hank took one side and Connor took the other. The waiter handed them their menus and excused himself.

“You look uncomfortable Connor.” Hank said once the waiter was gone. “I’ve never been somewhere this nice, its probably expensive Hank.” Connor said quietly. He felt like if he spoke too loudly everyone in the restaurant would hear him. Hank only chuckled, “Of course its a nice place. You only graduate so many times.” He said, “I wanted to celebrate. I should have checked, I’m sorry.” “Its alright Hank, I was just surprised.” Connor said and Hank rolled his eyes, “Well okay, that wasn’t the right word, I wasn’t expecting this. I thought it might be a movie or something.” “Go big or go home.” Hank laughed, “Sorry if its too much.” “Its fine, I just needed a moment to adjust.” Connor admitted, “I’m alright now.” The conversation fell away as they looked over their menus. When the waiter came back Connor ordered a drink that Silas said was good and would help him relax. It was alcoholic which caused Hank to raise an eyebrow and he ordered a Coke for himself. “I didn’t think you would order another drink after the beer this afternoon.” Hank said with a teasing smile. “You said go big or go home right?” Connor replied, “I’ll only be having the one anyway I’ve been wanting to try it.”

They ordered their food when the waiter came back with their drinks. Connor went for something cheap since his drink had been a little pricey. Hank had given him a look but didn’t say anything about it. They’d had that talk before, but old habits died hard. They talked more over dinner, plans for after he finished school, potential books, and so on. Connor felt his drink hit him about halfway through dinner and had he been a smarter man he probably would have stopped, but he was twenty-seven and didn’t have anything to lose. Dinner ended with him considerably less sober than he would have liked. He felt a bit like he was floating and when he stood his balance was practically shot. When he pitched forward Hank was quick to catch him. He pulled Connor to his chest and Connor found himself smiling. This was nice. Hank chuckled and Connor felt the sound rather than heard it, “You really are a light weight aren’t you? You’ll just spit your thoughts right out.” It took Connor a long moment to realize that he had in fact voiced his thoughts. “Sorry.” He said as he straightened up. He waited for the restaurant to stop spinning before he took a tentative step away from Hank. He kept an arm around Connor’s waist, not a tight hold but enough to keep him from losing his balance again.

The walk back to the car was an adventure. Connor knew where they were parked, but his internal compass was not in the best shape and he kept getting turned around. Hank didn’t seem to mind. They finally got back to the correct garage and into the elevator. “Do you remember where we parked or did your drink take that from you too?” Hank asked with a teasing lilt to his voice. “We’re on lavender.” Connor replied and stumbled over his words, “My drink didn’t take anything from me.” Hank moved his hand from the small of Connor’s back to take his hand as the other one hit the button for the lavender level. Even in his intoxicated state, or perhaps because of it, Connor was hyper aware of the point where they were connected like it was a grounding point. He looked over at Hank and took in his form. He was attractive. Greying blonde hair and comforting blue eyes. He was tall and broad and Connor liked that about him. Then there was his personality, the rough exterior with vibrant kindness just beneath. This was a first for Connor; liking someone rather than just the idea of being with them. It was hurt because he was certain that Hank didn’t feel the same. The hand holding and hugs aside Hank didn’t seem to be interested in having Connor as anything more than a friend. He was fine with that of course, dating a former student would probably be awkward.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a hand on his cheek. “Hey, come back to me Connor.” Hank’s voice was gentle but laced with concern. Connor came back to himself a little confused by the wetness on his cheeks, “Sorry.” “Lesson learned, too much alcohol puts you at the mercy of your thoughts.” Hank responded as he stepped out of the elevator. “Apparently.” Connor said with a wet laugh as he followed Hank into the parking garage. If he was chasing those touches again that was his own business. Hank took his hand again on the ride home and rubbed his thumb along the back of Connor’s hand. Connor’s heart cracked a little in his chest because he didn’t think that Hank knew what this was doing to him. It was intended to be comfort because he had been crying in the elevator. It was a painful act of kindness. He was slowly starting to understand Silas’s view on love. This shit fucking hurt. “What’s eating at you?” Hank asked as they pulled into the parking lot of Connor’s apartment complex, “You’ve looked miserable the entire ride back, tonight was supposed to be nice. If its something I did can you please tell me?” Connor flinched and tightened his grip on Hank’s hand, “Could we maybe talk about this inside because I don’t want to be alone right now.”

He watched the concern on Hank’s face deepen as he turned the car off, “Of course. Let’s go.” Connor felt guilty for asking this of him, but Hank had asked what was wrong and Connor wasn’t ready to say all that in a place that wasn’t his. Especially if Hank was going to get upset he wanted to be in a place he was comfortable. If he was going to be rejected he wanted it to be on his terms. Yet he still hesitated when he got out of the car. Hank had never been up to Connor’s apartment. He’d only ever dropped him off. It was easy to blame their schedules when classes had been in session, but the reality of it had been that Connor was nervous about having Hank in his space. He was keenly aware of the irony of this now, but he couldn’t lie to Hank, not after tonight. Not when it had felt so close to something that was entirely unreachable to Connor all because Hank had once been his professor. He hated it and needed to set the record straight. If only so Connor’s heart would stop reaching for something his mind understood that he couldn’t have, not yet if ever. It was after hours so he had to use his code to get into the building. He held the door open for Hank and they walked to the elevators together. Connor could almost pretend that he wasn’t about to mess up a really good thing just because alcohol was making him overly aware of his emotions.

Even though he only lived four floors up, the elevator ride felt like it took hours instead of a few minutes. The silence between them was tense and almost uncomfortable. He nearly reached out for Hank and felt a deep sharp pain when it looked like Hank almost did the same. He opened the door to his apartment and held the door open for Hank. He cleared his throat in an attempt to gather his words, “Um, make yourself at home.” Connor made his way to the kitchen to start on coffee, it was an old habit from growing up. Hank settled onto one of the bar stools, “Its a little late for coffee don’t you think Con?” “Don’t worry, its decaf.” He replied, “I wouldn’t do that to you. I mean, I know you will probably be up late anyway, but I don’t want something I did to be the reason why.” “Connor relax.” Hank said gently, “I don’t know what’s bothering you, but I promise I won’t be upset. But I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” Connor smiled bitterly as he handed Hank the first mug of coffee, “Please don’t make promises that you can’t keep.” One look at Hank’s shocked expression had Connor sighing quietly, “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” “Did I do something wrong tonight Connor?” Hank asked as he held his mug of coffee with both hands as though he was trying to absorb its warmth. “You’ve been acting odd since the restaurant and I don’t believe all of it can be blamed on the alcohol.”

Connor nearly dropped the coffee pot as he was pouring a mug for himself. So much for having a handle on his emotions, that or Hank was better at reading him than he had thought. He took the time to finish pouring his mug before he answered. “Yes and no.” He said vaguely as he leaned against the counter mimicking the way Hank was holding his mug, “I know its not much of an answer.” He received an answering scoff from Hank and he continued, “But I think its more of how I interpret the things you do than the things you actually do.” “I don’t understand.” Hank replied. Connor sighed out his frustration and gripped his mug tighter, “I find myself particularly attached to you and I find that I tend to project those feelings onto the actions you take. I know that you don’t feel the same and having alcohol tonight was a bad plan because it blurred the lines I drew and it hurt; because tonight almost felt like you loved me too.” He wasn’t looking at Hank because he didn’t have the strength to. Which is why he missed Hank get up until he saw his large shadow fall over the counter. “Who’s to say that I don’t Connor?” “Don’t” Connor said harshly as he slammed his mug down on the counter, “Don’t do this to me. Either you do or you don’t. Please don’t make me question myself anymore than I already am.”

Hank flinched away from him at his outburst before he set his own mug down much more gently. He placed his hands on Connor’s shoulders and turned him to face him. His blue eyes were intense and the most emotional Connor had ever seen them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you question yourself.” He said gently, “I thought I was clear in my feelings; but to use your words, I find myself particularly attached to you as well.” Connor’s heart felt like it was going to burst from his chest as well as stop, “You aren’t just saying this to appease me because I’m a little drunk, right?” “As much as I believe that this should wait until you’re sober; I wouldn’t do that to you.” He replied, “I’m being honest Connor.” Connor was moving before he could think too much about it. He leaned up onto his toes and pressed his lips to Hank’s. After a small eternity, Hank returned it pressing closer to Connor. Hank tasted strongly of coffee and Connor lanced his fingers in Hank’s hair when he tried to pull away. Hank put enough space between them to speak even when Connor tried to chase the kiss. “As much as I would love to continue, this is something better for left for when you’re sober.” Hank said against his lips. “Will you stay the night?” Connor pressed. “Only if you promise to behave.” Hank replied.

“I cross my heart.” Connor said with a soft smile. Connor moved to pour out the coffee and heard they key taps of Hank’s keyboard as he did who knows what on his phone. Connor was on cloud nine and couldn’t find it in himself to ask. He set the mugs in the sink, they could be an issue for future Connor. Right now he was more concerned with finding out if Hank’s chest was as comfortable as it looked.

#A Cup of Something Better #CSB #Hankcon #dbh hank #dbh Connor #dbh fic #dbh

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boxoftheskyking · 3 years

Text

Pick Up Every Piece, Part Five

In which we have a scene at the bar

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

Early November 2000

When Jiang Cheng comes to the bar on his own, he lets Wei Ying watch his back. Which is to say, he sits at the bar and doesn’t spend the whole time half-turned to keep an eye on the door. When Jin Zixuan joins them, he hangs by the corner of the bar by the weird old poker machine that hasn’t worked in years, and he mostly avoids eye contact.

“Hey Zixuan,” Wei Ying says, grinning. “How’s your cousin?”

“Hm?” He’s so polite, always, in a snobby kind of way. Like he knows he’s better than you, but he’s far too well-bred to admit it. Wei Ying sometimes wonders if he got that from his mother. Wei Ying has never really spoken to Mrs. Jin outside of an awkward few minutes at the wedding, but what he knows of the rest of the family is far more in the “knows they’re better than you and will tell you to your face” camp.

“Your cousin, you know.” He winks at Jiang Cheng. “It’s the liiiiiife of the Jin!”

Jiang Cheng joins in, “What’s going down in Lanling—”

“Cut it out!” Zixuan reaches out like he’s going to cover Jiang Cheng’s mouth, but he doesn’t.

“It’s catchy!” Jiang Cheng giggles. It’s a gratifying sight.

“That show should be outlawed,” Zixuan says darkly.

“It’s genius,” Wei Ying argues, drinking in the two of them there, together. “Nie Huaisang is a visionary.”

“I’m going to have him imprisoned. He’s a curse.”

“He’s a genius. It’s a totally new art form.”

Jiang Cheng snorts. “Art form. It’s boring. I like seeing Jin Zixun humiliated as much as anyone, but it’s just rich people sitting around being stupid and rich.”

“It’s reality, but also pure escapism. It’s brilliant.”

“It’s a threat to national security,” Zixuan says. Wei Ying cackles.

Jiang Cheng makes a face. “There’s no story! There’s no, like, script.”

“There is a story! It’s all how Huaisang edits it.” Wei Ying hasn’t actually talked to Nie Huaisang in years, so he’s not that personally invested, but he can’t resist the chance to disagree with both Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan at the same time.

Zixuan slides his glass over for a refill. “Zixun is never going to get a real job. He has no skills, he can’t do anything useful, so he sits around and has cameras follow him? It’s a disgrace.”

“It’s the most watched show in the country. I watch it every week.”

Jiang Cheng intercepts Zixuan’s glass to steal a sip. “That’s because you also don’t have a real job.”

“Serve yourself then, asshole.”

“We don’t watch reality TV, we work. We’re civil servants.”

“I’ve written six columns on The Life of Jin, I’ll have you know. So it is my job. And I’m more of a civil servant than you, I barely make any money.” It earns him a pair of eyerolls, but they won’t insult the paper to his face. Not anymore. “I can’t believe they made you both work today.” It’s the wrong thing to say, and Wei Ying covers his wince to fill a row of pints.

“Yeah, well.” Zixuan scratches the back of his neck. He keeps his hair a bit long, like Jiang Cheng does, but on him it feels like a memorial. “Five years. I guess I can’t keep getting time off forever.”

Jiang Cheng is drumming his fingers on the bar, looking away.

“Five years to the day, though,” Wei Ying offers. He leans in, almost wanting to touch . . . something, then twirls away to ring someone up. He feels like a bird, a swallow, dipping and soaring and coming in close for a moment before getting scared back up to a tree top.

When he comes back the tension has receded.

“Dad wants me to move over to the business side of things,” Zixuan is saying.

“Leave intelligence?” Jiang Cheng’s brow furrows, clearly already imagining following his brother-in-law over to the corporate hellhole of Jin Industries.

“Yeah. He keeps talking about the CEO gig, as if I’m qualified.”

“No offense,” Wei Ying says, “but your dad has never been big on qualified.”

“What about Guangyao?” Jiang Cheng asks.

“He’s not the face Dad wants for the company. I don’t know, it’s like during the war, he’s staying back in his lab and his back office, tinkering with stuff. Dad wants a stupid— A face. You know, dynasty bullshit.”

“Like those propaganda posters.” Wei Ying grins at him. “That noble profile. I had one on my bedroom wall.”

“Don’t be creepy.” Jiang Cheng goes to smack him, but he ducks away. “You did not.”

“It wasn’t propaganda.” Zixuan sighs, having lost this argument before.

“It was good propaganda,” Jiang Cheng argues.

Wei Ying keeps his thoughts to himself, for once. He doesn’t comment on Jin Guangyao, either, though he could. A drunk girl yells at him from the other side of the bar, which helps.

“But like—” Zixuan takes a long gulp, spinning his fingers in frustration, looking for the words. “This is what I trained for. I joined the army at eighteen. I was in the army when it was just prison security and diplomatic escorts. My degree is decoration, and he knows that. It’s an art piece on the office wall, it doesn’t mean anything. I don’t know how I’m supposed to just become this business guy. It’s like— He doesn’t actually know me, who I am, what I’m good at. He just expects me to work wherever he plugs me in, to just be the best at whatever he thinks I should be the best at. I’m already the best at something. Right? I’m too old to be the best at something else.”

Wei Ying shrugs in sympathy. “Welcome to your thirties, eh?”

Jiang Cheng drains his glass, his third already. “He wants you to be a liquid.”

“What?”

“He thinks you’re a liquid. Your dad. Fit the shape of your container.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m not a fucking liquid.”

Jiang Cheng points at him. “That’s right. You’re not a fucking liquid.”

“I’m a solid.”

“You’re solid as shit, man.” Jiang Cheng pounds on Zixuan’s chest, and he winces slightly.

It’s nine o’clock, so Wei Ying decides he gets to pour himself a whiskey. He puts an orange slice in it, for vitamins.

Jin Zixuan looks into his own glass, thoughtfully. “Although, I mean. What’s a liquid without a container? Just a puddle, right?”

“Or a river,” Jiang Cheng says. They pause to contemplate rivers.

“What kind of liquid would you be?” Wei Ying asks, watching the gold of his liquor swirl around the melting ice cubes and the orange peel.

Zixuan huffs a laugh. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

“Vegetable soup,” Wei Ying says, then winces again.

“Soup,” Jiang Cheng agrees, quietly.

“Yeah,” Zixuan says. “Soup.”

They stare down into their glasses, drink.

“That reminds me,” Zixuan says, rallying after a long moment and pulling his fancy silver business card holder out of his breast pocket. “I got a new number.”

He hands Wei Ying a classy white card. It’s not his government one, just his phone number and his new email. Of course Jin Zixuan would have a personal business card, printed up by a printing company somewhere.

“Did you get rid of the old phone?” Wei Ying asks, carefully. Jiang Cheng looks between them, also careful, saying nothing.

“No, I just had to— I moved it to the basement. I can’t keep . . . The answering machine is still hooked up to the old one. I’ll still wipe the tape, so you can call—”

“Thanks.” We don’t talk about it. Let’s keep not talking about it. Wei Ying rinses a glass that’s already clean.

“If you want. It’s not a problem. I just can’t keep—”

“Yeah.” He wipes the glass, too quickly, the damp microfiber squeaks a little.

“A-Ling gets confused. He hears you say her name, you say ‘Jiejie,’ and he—”

“Yeah, I get it, no problem.” Wei Ying rinses the glass again.

“You can call me, though.” Jin Zixuan is looking at him, which he rarely actually does right in the face, horribly earnest. “You know that. You can call the new number and talk to him, or to me.”

“I know. I will.” He probably won’t. He looks over at Jiang Cheng, who’s chewing on his lip. Yanli would scold him for that, say that’s why it keeps chapping, worse now that it’s getting colder. He doesn’t leave her messages, Wei Ying doesn’t think. He doesn’t need crutches like that, he straps the anger onto himself like steel braces and gets on with things, limping.

Wei Ying would like to be angry, especially today on the five year anniversary. Five full years without her. That would be a comfort, such a relief, to be angry. But he doesn’t get to be angry when Jiang Cheng is around.

Jiang Cheng clears his throat. “I can’t believe your dad allows Zixun to do that show.”

Zixuan draws himself up, sucking in a breath like he’s coming out of water. “He must get something from it. Like some kind of PR or something.”

Wei Ying goes into the back and carries out a case of wine and a case of cider, loads them into the cooler. It takes a while, he has to pull things out so the warm bottles go in the back. He can vaguely hear his brothers insulting Jin Zixun and the state of modern television, keeping it light. He stares at the label on a bottle of cider—it’s an apple with a face, one of those unnerving cartoon faces where all the teeth are the same size and shape. No one’s teeth look like that.

He shuts the cooler and returns.

“If Zixun looks like a fool,” Wei Ying says thoughtfully, interrupting them like he’s supposed to, “then he’s mostly harmless. He’s a goofball. It must be useful for the great and powerful Jin to have a goofball side. It makes you look less, I don’t know . . .” He could say a lot of things. He could say things like tyrannical or despotic or calculating or morally questionable. He doesn’t say any of it, just waves his hands around.

Zixuan looks like he hears the words anyway, and as usual, he stares out across the bar. “He’s a sacrifice, I suppose. Zixun. He’s always been the spare.”

“Do you think he knows he’s being played?” Jiang Cheng asks. “Would he keep doing it if he knew?”

“My dad,” Zixuan says slowly. “Doesn’t play Go. Metaphorically speaking. Not like A-Yao does. But he does play poker. Zixun—” he spins the glass between his hands. “Zixun plays hopscotch. Badly.”

Wei Ying snorts, and it feels nice.

“I guess I don’t like the show so much anymore,” he says, pouting.

“Good,” Jiang Cheng reaches out and flicks his ear. Wei Ying lets him.

“Why does everything have to be nefarious?” Wei Ying whines, meaning reality TV but also Jiang Cheng and his mean fingers “Can’t we have something that’s just dumb? Aren’t we there, as a country, where we can just have stupid shit that’s stupid and doesn’t mean anything?”

“You mean besides you, and also your face?” Jiang Cheng asks. Zixuan sighs at them in a judgmental way.

Wei Ying taps his chin. “Although, there’s a column there. The insidious political machinations of so-called reality.” He hits the button to roll out some receipt paper and makes a few notes.

“I just don’t get why he does it,” Jiang Cheng muses. “He has to know he looks bad. Right? Like, he has to.” As if everyone is as pathologically obsessed with their public appearance as you are, which is something Wei Ying does not say. “It’s not like he needs the money.”

As always, that’s its own flavor of uncomfortable. Zixuan makes more money than Jiang Cheng, and has a trust fund on top of it. He keeps trying to make it up by buying expensive presents and starting a tab wherever they go, but Jiang Cheng won’t take it. He used to, back when Zixuan was just their shitty rich brother-in-law, or Yanli’s shitty rich boyfriend. He used to call it “Yanli’s dowry” when he’d leave his birthday dinner with a new stereo or a nice watch. Now that they’re friends, though, he gets pissed off. He’ll get mad if Zixuan buys him a hardcover instead of a paperback, now that they’re friends. He’s a complicated man. So is Zixuan, in his way.

That’s probably why they get along so well, and why Wei Ying is always a half a step off of their weird masculine choreography. Wei Ying fancies himself a complicated man, but it’s different. He’s in control in a way they don’t seem to be, not of his life but of his face and his voice and his sentence structure. It makes him a good reporter.

They, on the other hand, have always been good soldiers.

Wei Ying had cried when Jiang Cheng enlisted, mid-’93.

“You watch too many war movies,” he’d said, looking down at this lap, twisting his hands together, face hot and heart racing. “It won’t be like that, A-Cheng, there’s not any glory in it, it’ll just be horrible—”

“It’s the right thing to do.” Jiang Cheng had been stubborn as always, chin jutting out. “Wen Chao’s last attack—I can’t just sit here.”

Yanli hadn’t cried at all, she’d just looked between them, silent.

“Why don’t you come too?”Jian Cheng had asked him, eyes like a six-year-old. “You’d be good at it. We could do it together.”

“No, I gotta— Someone’s gotta report on all your heroics, right?” Wei Ying had been sweating, panicked, chills running down his arms, blowing his nose again and again. “Maybe I’ll get an assignment so I can follow you around and sing about your adventures. Like something out of those ancient poems, right?”

He’d been wrong about his role in the war, but more right than he’d be able to guess about ancient poetry. Because cultivation was real. Magic was real, and his brother was somehow mixed up in it.

He got drunk with Yanli the week after the first cultivator battle. The first battle with the new cultivator corps. Zixuan, Jiang Cheng, Lan Zhan, Mianmian, and the others.

“You husband is a wizard,” Wei Ying had said, slurring.

“Your brother is a wizard.” Yanli had flicked a sunflower seed into his lap.

That was her secret: when Yanli got drunk she could go through two bags of sunflower seeds by herself. She got the cheap ones from the gas station on the corner and split them with her teeth, scattering shells everywhere like a little disaster zone. She’d clean up all the evidence in the morning, before anyone woke up. She was almost never hungover.

Wei Ying loved that about her, the evidence she left, her secret messiness. He’d catch a stray shell in the corner, behind a potted plant or caught in the fringe of an area rug, and he’d get so rocked with love—violent, breathless love for her—that his vision would go spotty.

Or maybe that’s just how he remembers it, now that she’s gone.

“Actually, he’s your brother too,” Wei Ying had said at the time, poking her nose. “Your husband and your brother are both wizards. So what does that make you?”

“Well, there’s Lan Zhan. You’re blushing, see, you’re blushing. And Mianmian. They’re your—”

“Friends.”

“Yeah, but you kissed both of them.”

Wei Ying had stuck out his tongue at her, or done something equally childish.

She’d cracked a sunflower seed and popped it into her mouth. “We could be wizards if we wanted to.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely”

“We just aren’t.”

“We’re busy.”

“We are busy people.”

Wei Ying is shaken out of the memory by a pint glass slamming down on the bar, just missing Jiang Cheng’s elbow. It’s Li Wangcheng, youngest son of his usual source, Li Riseung.

“Fill ‘er up, asshole,” Li Wangcheng says, listing into his buddies on either side. Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan are both looking at him with equally disdainful nose wrinkles. “Chop chop.”

Wei Ying sighs. “Sorry, Wangcheng, you’re cut off. I already over-served you, and I promised your dad and your brother I wouldn’t.”

“Fuck you.”

“Your liver can’t take it. Here, have some water and go sit down.”

“Fuck you, Wei Ying. Fuck you.” He’s pushing off his friends, leaning over the bar with his tobacco-stained teeth and his mix-of-alcohol breath.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wei Ying moves away, wiping down the counter, and Wangcheng follows.

“I’ll fucking kill you. You watch your back, bitch, I’ll fucking find you, and I’ll kill you.”

Wei Ying puts up his hands. “Okay, man, take it easy.”

“I know where you live. I know where you park your bike. Your stupid little fucking— Your stupid bike.”

His two biggest friends start pulling at his elbow, pulling him away. He shakes them off.

“Don’t think I won’t. Don’t think I won’t find you, motherfucker.”

Jiang Cheng is off his stool, now, and Zixuan is moving around behind him, coming in to engage. Wei Ying waves them off, desperately. Wen Ning is leaving his spot by the door.

“When you leave tonight, you better—”

“The fuck did you say?” Jiang Cheng is up in his face, now, and Wei Ying has to come out from behind the bar. He hates leaving the bar, it’s his comfortable place to be.

“Leave it. A-Cheng, A-Xuan, leave it, leave it.” He gets himself between them all, holding his brother back. Wen Ning has a good hold on Wangcheng’s shoulders.

“Fuck you.” That sprays a bit in his face, the plosive. “Everything was fine before you came here. Yiling was fine before you came here, and then everything went to shit.”

“That’s not—” Jiang Cheng tries to butt in, but Wei Ying sticks an elbow in his gut.

“I said, leave it.”

“Fucking worthless,” Wangcheng spits at him, and Wen Ning and his friends haul him back towards the door. “Fucking demon. You’re a fucking demon, Wei Ying! Fucking cursed!”

Wen Ning throws them out, and the silence following is awkward, no one looking at each other. Wei Ying wipes his face, straightens Jiang Cheng’s shirt collar, and goes back to work. There’s a short woman standing there, frozen, holding out her empty glass. He gets her another gin and cranberry, pleased that he remembered, and she gives him a pitying kind of smile. He hides his hands down by his sides, but he knows she’s seen them. Everyone can see them; he doesn’t cover them.

“Holy shit,” Jiang Cheng says, still staring back at the door.

“Yeah. Never mind.” Wei Ying readjusts his t-shirt.

“Never mind? That was a death threat. For what, cutting him off?”

“Forget about it.”

“For cutting him off? What the fuck?”

“A-Cheng, forget it.”

“I’m not gonna forget it, that guy knows where you live.”

“It’s fine, it happens. Leave it. Please? Leave it.”

Jiang Cheng sits down. Zixuan says nothing, looking between Jaing Cheng and the door.

“Does it happen a lot?” Jiang Cheng is interrogating, intelligence-mode.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Wei Ying, does it happen a lot?”

“I mean, a bit. Okay?”

“For cutting—?”

“It’s not about cutting him off. It’s not about that. It’s not about me. Calm down.”

“Sure sounded like it’s about you. ‘Demon,’ really—”

“If it wasn’t me it would be someone else. Wen Ning. His friends. His dad.” Wei Ying chops more limes than he needs to, calmed by the sharpness of the knife. “He’s dying. Actually dying, everyone knows it. His liver is shot. He’s been laid off for months, and he can’t pay for any more treatment. His dad’s broke, mom died in the war. He’s lashing out.”

“But that’s not your—”

“You can’t swing at the clouds forever. Right? He’s not the only one. People feel good here, they feel comfortable here, and so they can hit someone here if they need to. You get beaten down and beaten down for year after year, eventually you have to fight back. Right? Otherwise what are you?” What am I? he doesn’t ask.

Zixuan clears his throat, still not looking at him. “What’s the use of fighting you? You’re not—”

Wei Ying laughs at him, mean. “What’s he gonna do, fight your dad? The whole fucking government? Who can he hit? After a while, you have to hit something or you’ll go mad. You have to make contact. Right?” He chops another lime. “You have to have an effect on something. You have to hit someone and see the bruise, or yell at someone and see them flinch. Otherwise it’s like you don’t exist at all. You’re already dead.”

“Wei Ying,” Zixuan says it, which is a surprise. He almost never says his name.

“Somewhere like this, somewhere like Yiling, all you can reach is the guy next to you. Once they put the crabs in the bucket, they put the lid on.”

The chatter in the bar is back, which is nice since there’s an awkward silence between the three of them. Wei Ying puts the chopped limes into the cooler and washes the cutting board, washes the knife. He replaces a drink at the other end of the bar earlier than he normally would—the guy is only halfway through, but he nods a thanks.

“What about—” Zixuan starts, hesitant. “Wei Ying, what about police?”

“Ha!” Wei Ying snaps it at him, not a laugh, not at all. “Don’t you— You don’t come here, into my bar, talking about police.”

“I didn’t come in talking about police, I’m just saying—”

“No cops in Yiling.” He shuts a cooler with his heel, a satisfying slam. “Cops are military, and the military hates Yiling.”

Zixuan bristles. “No, we don’t.”

He always does this. It’s one of the things Wei Ying can’t process about him, and one of the reasons they’ve never been close and probably never will be. It’s always “we.” The Jins, the government, the military. Wei Ying can like him if he doesn’t see Jin Guangshan, if he doesn’t see Jin Guangyao, if he doesn’t see the war when he looks at him. But then he comes in with the “we.”

It’s probably sad, actually, how long he’s been a soldier. How much of him is wrapped up in being his dad’s perfect soldier.

Wei Ying bites his tongue, takes a breath. “Of course you do. Everyone in charge hates Yiling.”

“I don’t hate Yiling.” Zixuan is getting stubborn. He looks like A-Ling, almost a pout. “It’s where you live, and you’re my family.”

Wei Ying blinks at him. “I don’t know how to talk to you when you get like this.”

“Like what?”

“Sincere. All, you know—” he waves an empty bottle around in Zixuan’s face. “Sincere.”

The pout becomes more of a pout. “I’m always sincere.

“Yeah, that’s why we don’t talk.”

Jiang Cheng leans across the bar and snags the rail whiskey bottle to top off his own glass.

“I can beat you up later, if you like,” Zixuan offers.

“Yeah.” Wei Ying doesn’t want to smile, but he does anyway. “Maybe.”

The silence isn’t awkward this time. Wei Ying takes the whiskey bottle back from Jiang Cheng and makes a show of wiping it off with the bleach rag. Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

After a while, Jiang Cheng asks, “Is there something happening here this month? For the five years? Like a memorial or something?” He’s looking away, all careful again.

“Is Lanling doing something?” They look at Zixuan, only slightly accusing on Wei Ying’s part.

“No. I mean December 3 there will be a whole . . . Armistice anniversary.”

“But nothing for Sunshot. Nothing for the massacre I mean,” Wei Ying says.

“I mean, not specifically.” Zixuan licks his lips. “I’m sure it’ll be mentioned.”

“Nothing here, though?” Jiang Cheng asks again.

“Trust me, people around here aren’t the ones that need reminding what you’re— what Lanling is capable of.”

“That’s not fair,” Zixuan says.

Wei Ying looks down at his hands, the mottled brown of them. Flies, flies and dirt and flies and chemicals and flies. “Don’t talk about fair. Not about this.”

Zixuan opens his mouth, but Jiang Cheng shakes his head, violently.

“A-Cheng, it’s not—”

“Stop it.” Jiang Cheng is glaring at him now, the kind of look Wei Ying gets all the time, but Zixuan doesn’t see so much. It makes him stop.

Wei Ying goes to the back and grabs the broom. Jiang Cheng reaches over for the gin bottle and tops off Zixuan’s glass. Wei Ying pretends he doesn’t see it and starts at the far end of the bar. It’s getting slower, people heading out for the night to more exciting places.

A song comes on, something from his college days. He remembers recording it onto a cassette tape from the radio, keeping it in his backpack. Lan Zhan didn’t really like it, but he let Wei Ying play it all the time on his cheap little dorm room stereo.

Wei Ying sings along under his breath as he sweeps. “And if I lied, would you forgive me. Whoa-oh-oh. Fit to be tied, but you still live with me. Oh, whoa-oh-oh.”

“This song,” Zixuan says, smiling a little. “We used to— We used to fight a lot. A-Li and I. Stupid stuff. I was late for dinner. My mom would get so overbearing and we’d fight about that. Her mom would— Well, you know. We’d fight about that. Baby stuff. We didn’t know what to do about baby stuff, so she bought out the whole section of the book store and said we’d divide and conquer. But every book was different, so we’d argue. Dr. Po says this. Well, Dr. Wen says that. She could be so— You’re all so stubborn. Stupid stuff. And we’d be so pissed off we stopped speaking to each other. But I bought her this CD once, not for a birthday or anything, just because. She loved them from way back. And she’d put it on, and we’d dance, and we wouldn’t be mad anymore.”

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said, clearing his throat. “She liked that sappy shit.”

“Do you play it for A-Ling?” Wei Ying asks.

Zixuan shakes his head. “It makes me sad to hear it. I spend most of my time trying not to be sad around A-Ling.”

Jiang Cheng moves like he’s going to touch him, his arm, his shoulder. He aborts the move and grabs his glass instead, slides it over to tap against Zixuan’s.

“You’re doing good,” he says.

Zixuan looks down, blinking seriously.

“You are,” Wei Ying agrees. “You’re doing good. And you know it pains me to say it.”

Zixuan gives him an echo of a laugh.

“A-Ling is lucky.”

“He’d be luckier if his uncles would visit. Both of them.”

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying say in unison.

“You want me to change the song?” Wei Ying asks.

“No, leave it. It’s good. It’s a nice song.”

An old woman leans on the bar—she’s familiar but Wei Ying can’t remember her name. “Hey, hey, Wei Ying!”

“Yeah, auntie?” he smiles charmingly at her.

“You know my daughter’s coming home soon. December 21.”

“Cheers to that!” he gives her a half-salute.

“I’ll set you up, once she’s home. Just you wait, she’s the prettiest, even now.”

“I’m sure she is.”

“She makes that jumpsuit look like runway fashion. Still has her figure, even with the prison food.”

“Can’t wait,” Wei Ying says politely.

“December 21,” the old woman waves her finger at him and heads for the door.

“Invite me to the wedding,” Jiang Cheng teases.

“December 21,” Wei Ying rolls it around in his mouth. “The Wens are coming home.”

Zixuan straightens up. “Really?”

“That’s what we’re celebrating. We don’t celebrate the Massacre, but innocent people coming home? That’s worth it.”

“Innocent is—”

“Zixuan, think about where you are.”

Zixuan nods.

All of the Wens who’d been scooped up post-Sunshot, post-war, those related to rebels or in the wrong place at the wrong time, they’d all been sentenced to five years in prison. “Just to be safe.” The majority came from Yiling, Dafan, other small towns in the West. People who couldn’t afford to run to Lanling, to Gusu, somewhere safe during the worst of the fighting. People who wouldn’t turn their backs on brothers and aunts and cousins in Nightless City.

But five years have almost passed, and the Wens are coming home.

“It’ll be weird, won’t it?” Jiang Cheng asks, diplomatic in his insensitivity.

“A hundred and forty-three people,” Wei Ying says. “At least, that’s how many went in. I’m sure a couple fucked up inside, got their sentences extended.”

“But still.”

“But still,” he agrees.

“Are you going to do something for it? In December?” Jiang Cheng asks him.

“Dunno. I should stock up though, shouldn’t I? I’ll make a note.”

Later, after Jiang Cheng and Zixuan leave for Jiang Cheng’s Yiling sublet—a two bedroom so Zixuan doesn’t have to get his own place in town—Wei Ying sweeps up while Wen Ning flips chairs up on the tables.

“Have you ever gotten over something?” Wei Ying asks him.

“Like what?” Wen Ning stops working and looks at him. He always does that—Wei Ying has always wondered if he had hearing loss as a kid. If he’s talking to you, he always has to stop whatever he’s doing and look at you right in the face.

“I don’t know. But have you ever stood there a second and realized you were over something? Or through something. You know, on the other side?”

Wen Ning thinks for a while, and Wei Ying sweeps around his feet. “School, I guess.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“What about you?”

Wei Ying leans down with the dust pan. “I don’t think I’ve ever come out the other side of anything. I think maybe if you stay in something long enough you adapt. Grow gills or whatever, so you can breathe. So you can survive when the world turns unlivable around you. And maybe you aren’t living at all, maybe you’re a stone, or you’re a dead fish with rotten eyes, washed up on the bank of a river that dried up years and years ago.”

Wen Ning still looks at him, eyebrows furrowed, but he doesn’t ask Wei Ying to make sense. It’s what Wei Ying appreciates the most about him.

“So maybe you’re dead, or maybe you’re evolving. Like, maybe that’s just what the world is now, and what you would have previously defined as dead, what you’d look at ten years ago and say that’s a dead thing, maybe that’s just what life looks like now. Evolution.”

Wen Ning nods and picks up a chair. “I think . . . I might be remembering wrong, but I think evolution takes a long time. Like many generations. So maybe you should look at the kids.”

“The kids?”

“Yeah, see if the kids have gills. Or whatever. Whatever you said.”

Wei Ying leans his chin on his broom and watches Wen Ning go table by table, strong and methodical. He sets the chairs so gently on the tabletops that it doesn’t make any noise. He flips them with complete control and lines up the seats.

“Maybe,” Wei Ying says. He goes back behind the bar and turns up the music. There’s work to do before heading home

#assorted writings #pick up every piece #the untamed #cql #mo dao zu shi

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jenniferxprentiss · 4 years

Text

I Don’t Know Anything (But I Know I Miss You) -> 3/?

Chapter Three: Straight Hair, Straight A’s, Straight Forward (Straight Girl)

Her brow was furrowed, head cocked, watching Emily carefully as she dug through her bedside table’s drawer, watched the way Emily’s cherry red lips turned upwards in a sly smile when her fingers wrapped around something, pulling out a glass bottle wrapped in cloth. Emily carefully unwrapped the bottle — a fifth of her mother’s whiskey — a mischievous smirk on her face. This was something she had never dared do with anyone else, not even Aaron, but somehow Jennifer felt different.

Hi! It’s been a while for this particular fic, but I seem to have it in a decent groove right now and I’m super excited about it!

Tagging the few I know want to read this — lemme know if you want a tag!! @heat-waveee @whiskey-fluent @anepiphany @babyblockcolorcat @ssaemilyprentits @jjsgirlfriend @ellegreenawy @garcias-batcave

Enjoy! xo

——————

Emily hated that she felt so nervous, that the sheer thought of bringing a friend home made her hands shake and chest pound. She had carefully planned so that her mother wouldn’t be home — planned for one of her bingo nights where she wouldn’t come dragging in until well after midnight.

There was a knock at the door and Emily felt her stomach flip, willed the feeling to go away because this was Jennifer, her friend, not Aaron. She opened the door, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of her lips that immediately fell from her face because wow, Jennifer looked so different outside of school and soccer.

Her hair was still pulled into its trademark ponytail, but she was lacking the sportswear Emily normally saw her in. She was wearing jeans, skinny enough to cling to every defined curve and muscle, with a faded band tee and holy shit, Emily felt her heart speed up at the way it hung off of one shoulder.

“Jennifer… hi.”

She wanted to kick herself for how ridiculous she sounded, shook her head in an attempt to ward away the blush she felt creeping up on her face. She tried not to be weird, not make this another big thing, to at least have one real friend this year.

“You don’t have to call me by my full name, we’re friends. Everyone calls me JJ or Jayje, even coach Rossi.”

Friends. It was almost a foreign concept to Emily, never allowed to forge relationships of her own — not without her mother’s direct approval, at least — but now she was nearly an adult, just under a year away from being able to leave home and find true freedom, make her own decisions whether her mother liked it or not. She mulled the idea over in her head, small ghost of a smile tugging the corners of her lips upwards, looked down at the floor before Jennifer could notice.

“Then I’ll call you Jen.”

“Jen... I like it. No one else calls me that.”

JJ smiled at her, a little lopsided half smirk that made Emily’s stomach do somersaults and she had to look away before her face heated up in another blush. She turned on her heel, sock sliding against the marble flooring before motioning first JJ to follow her up the stairs to her bedroom.

Emily was hit with a sudden wave of nervousness when they entered her room, realized that other than children of her mother’s socialite friends, she had never had a friend over. Her stomach flipped in a wave of nausea, unsure of if she was overdressed for the occasion in her argyle sweater and collared shirt, if her room was clean enough.

“Just make yourself comfortable somewhere… and you have your textbook, right?”

“Yeah, right here.”

JJ set her bag down on the desk, pulling her textbook and notebooks out before glancing around the room. It was nearly all white, from the furniture right down to the ivory bedding with light grey accent pillows. It looked almost like the room wasn’t lived in, like Emily had never so much as sat on the edge of her bed, and the thought of having to live so pristine made JJ’s heart ache. She was brought from her thoughts when Emily cleared her throat, perched on the edge of the armchair in the corner of her room.

“So, how much do you know?”

“Not enough.”

—————

It felt like they had been studying for days when it had only been a few hours, and JJ wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t know enough. Emily was shocked she made it this far in French, only having retained basic words — she had to start at the beginning, conjugating verbs, much to JJ’s chagrin.

“I need a break.” JJ moaned, hand running through her hair, slightly askew from her nervous twirling.

“Me too. I can’t believe you were never taught how to conjugate être verbs.”

“Not all of us had the pleasure of picking up the language from locals in Paris.”

JJ’s tone lacked the bite Emily was used to from most classmates, a small smile playing on her lips instead. She closed her textbook, straightening her back and letting out a soft sigh. It felt like she was never going to grasp the material, let alone pass French this year.

There was a beat of silence between them, Emily chewing on her bottom lip in contemplation as she looked at JJ, curiosity etched into her features. Somehow, after only spending a few hours around Jennifer alone, Emily felt so free with her — like she could say or do anything with no judgement.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

She could see a faint blush coloring JJ’s cheeks, lips turned upwards in a confused half smile — like she didn’t entirely understand but she wanted to. Her brow was furrowed, head cocked, watching Emily carefully as she dug through her bedside table’s drawer, watched the way Emily’s cherry red lips turned upwards in a sly smile when her fingers wrapped around something, pulling out a glass bottle wrapped in cloth.

Emily carefully unwrapped the bottle — a fifth of her mother’s whiskey — a mischievous smirk on her face. This was something she had never dared do with anyone else, not even Aaron, but somehow Jennifer felt different.

“What’s that?”

“Whiskey. From my mother’s personal stash. Have you ever gotten drunk?”

She knew JJ had been present at countless parties — donning her grass stained, sweaty jersey, flushed face broken out into a huge grin — but couldn’t recall if she had ever carried a cup with her, always driving herself home at the end of the night. Emily had always watched her from afar, admired the way she smiled so unrestrained — knew she was Aaron’s best friend and found herself slightly jealous at the way they could both be so happy, so free.

“Not really… I’ve had a drink or two.” Her face was pinkening, eyes downcast as she tried to look anywhere but Emily.

Emily was cool, in a way that JJ would never be. Sure, she had friends that loved her, but she would never be popular like Emily and Aaron. The whole school parted for them when they walked down the hall linking arms, head cheerleader with her quarterback boyfriend.

“Do you want to?” She waved the bottle for good measure.

“Yeah, sure, but I can’t drive home and my mom will kill me. Especially after Ros…”

“Stay, then. My mom won’t mind. Trust me, she’ll just be happy that I have an actual friend.”

JJ narrowed her eyes at Emily, face morphing into a look of morbid curiosity. She had always thought that as head cheerleader and resident student body president, Emily’s social calendar was jam packed — now that it was on her mind, it occurred to JJ that she didn’t seem to have many friends outside of her extracurriculars, and never stayed long at parties they had both attended.

“Are you coming or not?”

Emily stood at the bay window, curtains swaying around her in the cool evening breeze. She nodded her head towards the open window, gestured towards the roof with the glass bottle when JJ only stared blankly at her.

It was Emily’s ritual of sorts when life got too overwhelming, her mother too overbearing to handle, and part of her felt so naked and vulnerable sharing it with Jennifer. Emily smiled back at her, a gentle, shy smile curving her lips upwards when she watched JJ cross the room and stand in front of the window — climbed out onto the roof and held her hand out for Jennifer to take.

“Do you do this a lot?”

They were settled side by side on the roof, Emily wiggling her sock covered toes in the evening air. The sun was starting to set, casting the neighborhood below them in a pinkish orange light. It felt as though they were on top of the world in that moment, even before the liquor — untouchable and free, something Emily had never let herself feel with anyone except for Aaron.

“Yeah. I come out here to breathe.”

She uncapped the bottle, took a swig of the amber liquid and tried to mask her grimace at the somewhat pleasant burn in the back of her throat. She still wasn’t used to the sensation, tried to choke back her sputter and cough, settling for a loud clearing of her throat before passing the glass bottle to JJ.

“I don’t take anyone else out here.”

“Not even Aaron?”

“No. Not even Aaron. He wouldn’t understand.”

Jennifer nodded and made a small sound, something Emily couldn’t place, before taking a swig from the bottle. She tried not to pull a face at the burn from the straight liquor, having only ever tried mixed drinks and wine coolers at parties — only enough to enjoy the subtle sting at the back of her throat and fuzzy feeling running through her veins, never enough to get drunk.

She coughed and passed the bottle back to Emily, felt her lips twitch upwards into a soft, gentle smile at the way their fingers brushed — found herself idly wondering why Emily would drink alone on her roof and not at the numerous parties she was invited to. The more JJ thought about it, she came to the realization that Emily didn’t seem to have many friends — not school friends, at least — furrowed her eyebrows quizzically as she watched her take a swig from the bottle, eyes trained on the houses below them.

“Why are you like this?”

The words fell out of Jennifer’s mouth before she could think about it, before she could craft a tactful sentence — couldn’t even blame the alcohol, having only had two long pulls from the bottle. Her eyebrows were furrowed, eyes still watching Emily’s eyes as she watched the sunset over the neighborhood — every house the exact same, made the same way and the same red brick — watched the way Emily’s expression morphed from sadness to curiosity, turning to JJ with her eyebrows knit together in a look of confusion.

“Like what?” Emily looked over at JJ then down at her own clothing, wondered if she was too much or not enough — used to the sad reality that she would never be perfect, not in this lifetime.

“I can’t explain it, it’s just the way you are.” She paused for a moment, watched the way Emily’s face fell at her words. “It’s not a bad thing, though.”

The way she was — it was a foreign concept to Emily, to be anything resembling the person she was inside, having been carefully trained and sculpted to be exactly what her mother wanted from a young age. It was like a second chance at Elizabeth’s childhood, doing all of the activities and extracurriculars that she had always wanted to do but never had the time for. Emily had long since accepted that she would never be enough for her mother, and too much for her peers.

She took a long sip from the bottle, what could amount to a couple of shots worth of liquid, before tearing her eyes from the rapidly setting sun. She looked over at JJ, her head tilted, wondering if Jennifer would tell anyone — decided that she wouldn’t, probably wouldn’t even tell Aaron.

“This? Me? It’s all my mother.” She passed the bottle back to JJ, pressed the cold glass into her hand, intentionally letting their fingers brush again. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

JJ hid her reaction in a chug from the bottle, head spinning momentarily as the burn seemed to radiate from her throat to her stomach, then down her arms. It was a pleasant sting, made her smile a little wider and relax a little more, laying back on the sloped roof before nudging the bottle back to Emily.

“Explain.”

“Try living in your psychotic mother’s mold for a day, I promise you my life won’t seem as glamorous anymore. I have to do everything exactly the way she wants me to. Head cheerleader, student body president, straight As, date the star quarterback.”

“Little miss perfect.” JJ mused aloud. “And you don’t want that?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know?”

Emily laid back, joining JJ and staring up at the stars that were starting to peek out from behind daylight. She took another long pull from the bottle, felt her head getting fuzzy and cloudy. She wasn’t sure how to articulate how she felt, wasn’t sure how to tell JJ that she was jealous of her life — of her parents that let JJ be who she wanted to be with no judgement or anger, supported her in everything she did.

“Let’s change the subject, then. Ask me something.”

She was grateful for JJ’s ability to read the awkwardness of the situation, for changing the subject. Emily didn’t know what to ask, a million questions racing through her mind. She stared up at the moon with so much concentration that she nearly went cross eyed, let out a small puff of air before looking over at JJ.

“Why didn’t you date Aaron? Why aren’t you trying to steal my boyfriend?”

JJ let out a laugh, a breathy lilting sound that almost sounded like twinkling to Emily. She shook her head, snatched the bottle back and took a long sip before clearing her throat, waiting for Emily to look at her.

“Two reasons.” She watched the way Emily’s brow furrowed, nervous fluttering stirring in the pit of her stomach. “The first being that you’re my friend, I would never steal your boyfriend”

“And the second?”

“I’m not really interested.”

“In him? You guys have chemistry. I thought you two were dating for the longest time.”

She laughed at the way JJ’s face contorted into a grimace, shaking her head before staring back up at the stars. There was a silence between them for a few moments, and Emily cleared her throat in hopes JJ would remember what she was saying.

“No, in boys in general.”

“Oh, so you don’t want to date right now?”

The thought puzzled Emily, having always been taught the importance of beneficial relationships to her societal status. Yes, she loved Aaron, but she came to love him only after the start of their mutually beneficial relationship. Even though it wasn’t exactly who her mother wanted, the head cheerleader dating the star quarterback was good for her reputation.

“No, I do want to date — just not boys.”

Emily’s face contorted even further in confusion, eyebrows knit together and lips pursed with a question she couldn’t find the words to ask. She had heard of girls dating girls, but it wasn’t widely acknowledged where they were from. The concept wasn’t foreign to her, but it especially made sense given the person JJ was — soccer star JJ dating girls just made sense to her.

“Emily, I’m gay.”

#my writing #jemily #hotchniss #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #i dont know anything but i know i miss you #high school au

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peterparkerstarker · 4 years

Text

the kitchen pt. 2 of “the hat” au

thanks to @readysetstarker and @starkerintheparker for asking for a continuation of “the hat” and HUGE thanks to @irontransthemechanic for being my writing help. whenever i got stuck on little details, like what kind of cake it was, or what tony’s nickname for morgan was, i texted him and he somehow gave me the perfect answer, madlibs style. some of my favorite details are things he came up with, and he’s a big part of why this fic turned out the way it did.

cw/tw: daddy kink, 10 year age difference, bdsm fantasy, discussion of alcoholism

also! i intended bucky to be trans in this. it’s not a super clear thing in this fic, but i wanted to put it out there, there’s a little reference to it that you’ll hopefully catch on to.

tagging: @deliciousflapbanditfarm, @everyonelovespetey, @ironspiderstarker @missnena2194

It was Labor day weekend, and things were hectic at the Rogers-Barnes household.

Bucky’s sister Becca had come down to visit from college, and this was the first time in months that Steve had a weekend off from work, so they’d thrown together a big party last minute and invited all the usual people.

Like always, Peter had shown up right on time, gift in hand.

He’d been greeted at the door by a very frantic looking Steve, who was amusingly decked out in a pastel pink floral apron, and had immediately been put on cake duty, helping to finish frost the three layer strawberry and funfetti cake. He had no clue what he was doing, but Steve seemed pleased with the results, even if he did rearrange the strawberry garnish a little when he thought Peter wasn’t looking.

Meanwhile, Bucky was kept busy setting out plates and forks, grumbling the whole time about how Becca should be helping too, and Steve had reminded him, in a far too chirpy tone, that she was a guest and should not be put to work.

She looked amused by that, smirking up at her big brother from over her cell phone, and called out “Hey now! Who stuck up for you when you came out to Ma? And who helped you cut your hair that first time? You’re welcome that I didn’t shave you bald when I had the chance. Show a little gratitude, will you?” and immediately went back to texting her friends, grinning at the screen.

Bucky grumbled something about being sick of being bullied in his own home, but Steve just smacked his ass lightly and told him to suck it up and finish arranging the centerpiece flowers.

Peter had to stifle a laugh at Bucky’s petulant expression, and didn’t bother pointing out that technically, he was a guest too. He was more than happy to help with the last minute arrangements, and he especially didn’t want to get on Buck’s bad side when he was already being grumpy about it all.

Before long, more guests started to arrive, and Peter was shooed out of the kitchen, drink in hand as Steve urged him to go mingle. He caught a glimpse of Bucky miming shooting himself as he whispered, “Save yourself!” just loud enough for Steve to hear and shoot him a look of annoyance.

Peter loved their bickering, and it just went to show how much they loved each other, that they could annoy each other to no end and still be content and happy. It was cute, and he loved their banter.

He made his way into the living room, stopping to chat with Thor about his new Etsy shop, which was impressively successful, and narrowly avoiding a head lock from Carol, who was forever trying to muss up his curls. He was happy here, in this moment. Surrounded by friends, sipping on the wine he’d brought to the party, and totally in his element.

It wasn’t often that Peter felt comfortable, especially in crowds, but Steve and Bucky’s house had a way of putting him at ease. Besides, the wine didn’t hurt either.

Unfortunately, he was stuck in the middle of a mildly mind numbing conversation with Bruce about construction on the new highway when Tony strolled in, sunglasses still on and a bottle of wine tucked in the crook of his arm.

Peter about choked on his drink, clamping his lips closed to avoid sputtering the liquid onto Bruce’s pressed white button up. He tried to be subtle about following Tony’s movements, watching as he gave a big hug and flirtatious smile to Nat, who rolled her eyes and muttered something about it not being cute, but she smiled all the same, used to his antics.

Tony was the life of any party he showed up to. Always late, always with a bottle of Barell bourbon or some obscure, unpronounceable french wine, always lighting up the room with his easy smile, smart wit and playboy charisma.

And it certainly helped that he was handsome. Those honey brown eyes that Peter daydreamed about... his sharp features and plump mouth. Peter tried to stay focused on Bruce’s words, but fuck, the guy could go on and on about traffic cone placement. And besides, Tony was looking too good in his tight jeans for Peter to ignore.

“Mhmm, yeah… you’re absolutely right.” he said hollowly, checking to see Bruce’s reaction. And he was grateful to see a look of approval on the man’s face. He zoned out again as Bruce started in on roundabout etiquette, and Peter was dismayed to see Tony slip into the kitchen. He wanted at least a little more time to admire the older man right now.

He turned his focus back to Bruce, who was watching him expectantly, clearly waiting for a response to an unheard question.

Peter scrambled, not wanting to be caught in his inattentiveness, and stuttered out, “Uhm y-yeah. I think that’s right.” But by the looks of it, he’d answered wrong. Embarrassment flushed over him, but he couldn’t be stuck in this banal conversation anymore, not when Tony was still in the kitchen, away from Peter’s line of sight.

“Hey, uhm, I gotta get another drink, be right back, man,” he said in a rush, clapping a hand onto Bruce’s shoulder as a goodbye, and hoping the man hadn’t noticed his nearly full glass.

He shouldered past Scott and made his way into the hallway, steadying his breath, preparing himself to enter the kitchen.

In comparison to the living and dining rooms, this part of the house was blessedly empty. He wondered who else was in the kitchen besides Tony, it was so quiet save for a low murmuring.

Gripping tightly onto his glass, he made his way into the room, and was surprised to only find Tony facing him, sitting hunched on a stool, phone in hand, clearly on a call with someone.

“Love you too, Mo Mo. Be good for Aunt Pepper, I’ll see you in the morning and we’ll make a big pancake breakfast together,” Tony said quietly. There was a pause, as he listened to the response on the other end, and a small chuckle, “Fine, you can have the sprinkles this time, but only if you’re asleep by bedtime. I will be confirming with Pep that you followed through on our agreement, understand?” Another laugh, warm and bright and kind. “Love you too bugbear. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Tony tapped off the call, sighing a little sadly, and then finally looked up to notice Peter, who suddenly felt like a deer in headlights.

“I uh.. needed some water.” he said lamely, and Tony nodded, gesturing to the stack of party cups on the counter in front of him.

Peter awkwardly grabbed one, filling it with tap water and ice from the cooler.

He felt twitchy and weird, like he didn’t know what to do with his hands, or how to hold a normal facial expression. Being this close to Tony always did that to him. It’s why he kept his distance, observed from afar. Come to think of it, he’d never really had much of a conversation with the man.

“Was that your daughter on the phone?” he finally asked, “Morgan, right?”

Tony nodded, expression easing a little. “Yeah, she’s at home now with my PA. Pepper babysits for me sometimes, mostly when she’s trying to get me to get out and live a little more. I always feel so bad leaving Morgan for the evening, but she loves Pep, so she’s more than happy to have a night of girl time without me.” Tony let out a harsh laugh, suddenly looking uncomfortable with the vulnerability of what he’d said.

Peter took a step closer, setting both his cups on the island counter top between them, eyes falling, meeting Tony’s.

“I can tell how much she loves you. You mean the world to her,” he uttered quietly.

Tony barked out a laugh. “It doesn’t always feel like that, especially lately. She wants to play dress up and learn makeup, and having just a dad doesn’t always cut it for that. I’m lucky to have Pepper. She’s good at the makeup and hair stuff.”

Peter’s eyes softened, he was beginning to understand just how deeply Tony loved Morgan, wanted to do right by her. It was something he’d always known about the man. But here and now, hearing him talk about it, it had never been more clear, and it made him melt just a little.

“She loves you, she always will. She’s just getting a bit more independent. I can’t imagine how tough that is, to have her growing up and not needing you quite as much, but she’ll always need you, at least some. Heck, I’m 23 and I still had to call May last weekend and get advice on how to replant my ficus. She’s only 5, Tony. You’ll have plenty more years before she starts turning into a bratty teenager,” Peter encouraged.

That made Tony grin, rippling into full, rich laughter, and it made Peter swell with pride.

“Thanks Peter. You’re pretty great, you know that?” and Peter hoped Tony meant it as he said it.

He flushed, cheeks heating as he ducked his head a little. “I’m alright. I have my moments.”

“What are you drinking?” Tony asked, and Peter was a little disappointed at the subject change.

Peter pointed to the bottle of wine he’d brought, nothing fancy, but it was nice enough.

Tony nodded, considering the bottle, and said, “I never was much of a moscato drinker, but that’s a solid brand.”

Peter nodded unsure of how to respond when a question suddenly popped into his head, and he was asking it before he could stop himself. “Why do you always bring fancy alcohol if you’re not going to drink any of it?”

Tony looked a little startled, “What do you mean?”

Peter felt heat rushing through his body, anxiety rising in his stomach. “I mean… you always make this big show of entering with a bottle of something impressive, but I’ve never actually seen you drink more than water at any of these parties.” He shouldn’t be asking, should have shut his mouth a while back, but there was no taking back his words.

There was a long, heavy pause, as Tony considered his answer.

“Morgan’s the reason I don’t drink anymore. I promised myself I would stop the day she was born. It wasn’t always easy, I had some slip ups that I regret. But I promised myself that I would do it for her, and so I did. As for the grand entrance… what can I say? I like to put on a show, and people don’t really notice that I don’t drink if I do it that way. There’s less questions later on… it’s easier for me.” Tony gazed at him with such clarity, like he was seeing Peter for the first time, truly seeing him for who he was. “You’re the first person to ever ask me that, I doubt anyone else has even noticed. The ones who matter know… Nat helped me a lot in the early days, Bucky and Steve too. But no one’s ever really asked me why.”

Peter let out a breath, hands shaky as he reached out across the counter to squeeze Tony’s hand, ever so lightly. “Thank you for telling me. For trusting me. That’s a great reason.”

He hated himself for how badly he wanted Tony in this moment. The man had just spilled his past about alcohol struggles and all he could think about was what it would be like to press his lips up against the corner of Tony’s mouth, to kiss him all over and soothe his pain.

He blinked, realizing he was still holding Tony’s hand, and then realizing to even greater shock that Tony didn’t seem to mind the touch.

“You’ve got really nice hands, Pete. Really soft, but strong too, I can tell,” Tony muttered, staring intently at their connected fingers, rubbing ever so gently.

Peter didn’t know what to say, what to do. It was like his brain was disconnected from his body, and he found himself leaning in, closer and closer over the island counter top, until he was pressing his lips, softly, gently into Tony’s.

And then Tony was grabbing him, releasing their hands to hold on to the back of his neck, fingers tangling into his messy curls, kissing him feverishly, like he’d never been kissed before.

He’d made out with boys at parties, dated around a little, even had that stupid hookup with MJ that one time. But nothing compared to this kiss right here, this kiss with the man he’d been lusting and pining after for ages. This was heat and fire and need. So, so much need stored up deep inside him, and it was flowing out, dancing through him as he pressed himself hard against Tony, not caring that the edge of the counter was pressing painfully into his hip bones. He just needed to keep kissing Tony, because he didn’t know if it would ever happen again, and he wanted to make the most of it, wanted to have something to remember.

Wanted to look back fondly on the night he made out with Tony Stark in Steve and Bucky’s kitchen at a party that one time.

He didn’t want to regret anything about this moment.

Eventually they broke apart, panting and flushed. Peter didn’t know what to say, what to do, didn’t know if that was it. But then Tony got up from his side of the island, and before Peter knew it, he was being pressed up against the fridge, their bodies tight and warm against each other.

He could feel the hardness of Tony’s cock jutting up against him, and it made him need it even more. Hands everywhere, his cheeks, his neck, the small of his back, and up under his shirt.

Tony’s hands.

Roaming and exploring his body, while his lips kissed Peter’s, working their way to his neck. And then Tony was breathing gently against his ear in a way that made him groan louder than he ever had before.

And Tony’s cock... hard and solid, hips rutting against his own, rolling and grinding and heavenly. He needed it all, needed to feel everything all at once, to be overwhelmed with it all, consumed and used up and still he wanted more.

He didn’t care that a vacation magnet was jutting into his shoulder blade, or that the papers attached to the fridge were getting rumpled, all he cared about was the way that Tony was kissing and touching him.

Tony was kissing him. That’s all that mattered.

And fuck! It felt good. If they weren’t surrounded by friends just 20 feet away, he would’ve stripped naked by now and begged Tony to fuck him raw on the counter, and he would have loved every minute of it, being pounded into, undone by this gorgeous, kind man.

A wave of remembrance flooded over him, long nights stroking himself, imagining so many scenarios like this one. Tony laying him out over the hood of his car in his workshop, smudged with grease and oil, their bodies sinking into each other. Peter tied up, blindfolded and gagged and begging to come while Tony laughed and teased him. Tony fucking him senseless as he screamed out for more, wanting to push the limits of just how many times he could come, twitching and aching for more, more, more. Always more.

He wanted all that and more, but he knew they were already pushing their luck, standing here making out in the open like this.

Gently, painfully, he pushed Tony away, not trusting himself to not go any further if they kept going at it like they had. He struggled to catch his breath, grinning and laughing, and then grabbing Tony once more to kiss him sweetly, on the lips, the forehead, all over his beautiful face.

Tony laughed, rich and deep and perfect, and held on tight as Peter showered him with affection.

“I always wondered… always thought there might be something here, something worth pursuing,” Tony said, lips pressed softly against Peter’s neck. “But I didn’t want to presume, didn’t want to be wrong. Especially since I’m so much older…”

Peter giggled and said “Tens years is not that much older, Tony.”

“It is when you’re 33 and you’re making out with a 23 year old in your best friend’s kitchen at a party,” Tony said, hands still rubbing gently up and down Peter’s back. They were unhurried, none of the frantic passion of before. Comfortable, safe... right. That’s how they felt now.

“When did you first suspect?” Peter asked.

Tony’s face scrunched up a little, trying to recall the specifics. “I had an inkling last Christmas, you got so twitchy around the mistletoe, but this summer was what really made me start wondering, 4th of July. The BBQ. You kept watching me. I think that’s when I started to know, but I was too afraid to trust that feeling.”

Peter breathed out a shaky bark of a laugh, pulling away. “That fucking hat…”

“What?”

“It was that hat you wore. The pink one… with the uh…” Peter blushed, suddenly shy and nervous all over again.

Recognition bloomed bright on Tony’s face, which only made Peter want to shrink even more. Tony leaned in close and whispered, “You can call me Daddy, Peter. Is that what you want?”

He shuddered out a too-eager yes, mortified and thrilled all at once.

“I wanna hear you say it…”

Peter steadied himself, fighting against the weak feeling in his legs and let him utter the word he’d wanted to say aloud for months.

“Daddy.”

And fuck, it felt even better than he’d imagined when Tony grabbed him and kissed him again, hand pressed tight against his aching cock, the fabric of his jeans the only thing between him and Tony’s touch.

“Say it again, louder.”

“Daddy!”

They were going to have a lot of fun together, Peter thought, and he’d love every filthy minute of it.

#starker #daddy #my fic #my writing

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cherry3point14 · 4 years

Text

One Helluva Car

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Minor car fetish, one paragraph of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smut, a little jealous!Dean, this is crack babes’, I can’t stress this enough: car fetish Word Count: 3,500. Summary: Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world and then one day she sees Baby... A/N: @alexwinchester23 hit me up a THOUSAND years ago with the prompt: dean x reader where she is more “in love” with deans car and it makes him a little jelly lol. And I was like, ha ha ha sure I’ll write it. It’s been half written ever since. So, I finished it. Someone please be proud of me for finishing. (Not like that you animals.) This also fills Driving In The Impala for @spndeanbingo

It’s Monday lunchtime when you see it. Her? It looks like a her. The best cars are ‘hers’ and even from a distance, she has curves that only a good woman could possess.

You’ve had a morning of shitty, old trucks that have been run hard for too long, and new cars that you plug into the computer to diagnose, which takes all the fun out of life. It’s easy to see a mile off that she isn’t shitty or bogged down with modern tech. She’s a well looked after classic. A thing of beauty. A freaking masterpiece. She’s polished enough that the sun bounces off of her black surface like she’s made of glass.

If only your arms weren’t laden with brown paper bags of food you’d take a detour to get a closer look. You could ghost your hand over her hood and take a look at the interior. You bet it’s the softest fucking leather your ass would ever hope to feel.

You’d generally drool over her without actually drooling because God knows spit is not good for the paintwork. Unfortunately, you do have bags filled with hot, meaty subs intended to feed your workforce. And you’re wise enough to know that making a garage of hungry mechanics wait for their lunch is not a good move. It’ll only result in some sort of unnecessary disaster this afternoon that you, their boss, will have to fix or pay for. Or both.

The only thing you can do is take one last look at her, memorize that beautiful shape while you heft the bags closer to your chest and carry on walking. It’s not like you’ve never seen a good old fashion American muscle car before, you have your own ‘70 Mustang at home.

It’s just… this is a Chevvy Impala, arguably the first car to flex its muscles. You don’t see one of those every day.

Your hobby is like a much cooler version of birdwatching. You have an appreciation for cars, classics in particular. The craftsmanship, the design, and the sounds they make as they tear through the world like moving time capsules. Nothing generated by a low emission engine compares.

That’s how you spot her for the second time, on Wednesday.

Well, you hear her first.

You’re closing up for the night. Everyone goes home early on Wednesdays, the shop closes at three, except for you. There’s always paperwork that needs to be done and you hate the idea of taking it home if you can help it. Taking a car home you’re always happy to do, but paperwork? You refuse to dirty your private space like that.

It’s just before six when you’re locking the doors and thunder screams in the distance. At least you think it’s thunder, you wonder where the clouds are until it moves too fast to be a weather condition.

The closer it gets the more the sound transforms into pure, uncut horsepower. It’s the deep rumble of an engine that demands to be heard. It tears your attention to it whether you like it or not. An announcement of the coming vehicle before it arrives.

Then she glides around the corner of Maple and Third before peeling down the street past you. It’s her again, she’s still in town. You know it’s the same car, she isn’t a vehicle made for stealth and your little ol’ town isn’t exactly heaving with beauties like her.

You know she’s not a local, it must be a flying visit, you’re lucky enough to have seen her again before she left. Not just seen her though, heard her. Heard her engine and the screech of her tires on the tarmac. Experiencing her in action is breathtaking enough that you gawp at her like an idiot as she zooms away.

It’s not a fetish or anything. You don’t exactly cuddle an exhaust pipe in bed. You appreciate cars more than your job requires you to, simple. It’s a respect that was drilled into you from a young age. Your dad owns a franchise of shops across the state and never had the boy he always wanted. He didn’t mope about it, he taught you to fix an engine instead. To appreciate every individual piece like an unsolved puzzle. And because your dad is a big ol’ softie he taught you that classic cars can’t be beaten, he favors Camaros in particular. He gave you a garage to work in until you’d labored enough to earn it for keeps and manage it as your own. Your dad raised you to bleed motor oil and sweat gasoline.

Cars are your life. Ok, maybe you’re a bit of a gearhead is all. You can’t help it if that Impala is a fine wine you want to uncork.

You watch the street lights make a hazy path for her to follow, another corner and she’s gone.

At home, you curl up on your sofa and scroll through your usual sites to see how much your own Impala would cost. In good condition, you’d have to sell one of the two cars you already have but there’s this smashed up ‘68 in New Jersey that might be worth the drive for the price. It would basically be a new car by the time you rebuild it but that doesn’t matter. All you needed were the bones of the thing and you never shy away from a project that involves weeks of hunting down original parts, that’s half the fun. For tonight at least it gets bookmarked. The decision left for another day, if it still seems like a good idea in the morning then you’ll make the call.

Hell, maybe tomorrow you’ll see something else and forget all about her. Maybe.

Good looking guys come through town from time to time but Dean is a rare treat. He’s the picture next to ‘handsome’ in the dictionary. He’s got these full lips that you’ve stared at, without an ounce of shame, while he sucks on a beer bottle. A jawline covered in scruff that you’ve already imagined between your thighs. And then there are those hands of his. It could be your line of work but you always loved a man with hands like his. Broad hands and thick fingers. Mechanic hands you’d call them, you half wish they were covered in oil and grease.

He was tapping away on the bar for a while, drumming aimlessly while you drank, but now he’s toppled in your direction. He’s standing between his barstool and yours, while you're still seated, which makes you the perfect height for him to slip an arm around you. His thumb has settled in on tracing the edge of your jeans while he talks to you, tickling your back where your tank had ridden up.

Honestly? He doesn’t even need to be a good lay to be worth the trip to bed.

“I know you said you’re in town with your brother…”

He winces at the start of your sentence, “with the things I’m thinking about doing to you honey, you can’t go mentioning Sammy at the same time.”

Underneath the stained overalls, you’re still a woman and you’re not sure if there’s anyone alive who could resist Dean’s charms. When you laugh at his ridiculous propositioning, you don’t even try to fight when it tails off into a giggle.

“I was going to ask if you had your own room? Or are we going back to my place?”

You’d almost think he’d been playing it cool up until this point. Everything had been measured and smooth. But you ask him that and he finally cracks, urgency slips through that charm offensive. He tilts his head forward as his face hardens into something intense, eyes hooded under the light of the bar. His hand slides up underneath your top enough that his whole palm skates against your skin. “How about a compromise? My car, your place?”

You lean in until you’re almost touching his lips, your tongue peeks out to wet them and flicks against his, taunting. “Deal."

He doesn’t need to know that you walked here and needed a ride home anyway. That's irrelevant.

Stumbling out of the bar is messy. Not because of the alcohol, neither of you have drunk that much, it’s his hands on your waist. They’re possessive and so there.

Maybe he’s not so bad in bed. Maybe he’s actually, pretty good in…

Oh fuck. It’s her.

You’re stopped in your tracks by the sight of your very own white whale. Well, black and shiny Impala but the metaphor stands.

You stop and Dean bumps into you, not expecting it so soon. For a brief moment, you’re frozen in awe, reverence. Even in the dark, she’s perfect. Street lights bouncing off of her smooth exterior. The night is chilly and there’s a hint of condensation creeping around the edges of the windshield which only serves to make her sparkle.

“Wow, she’s-”

“Mine?” Dean finishes, a wry grin on his face and keys dangling from those fingers you’d been drooling over moments ago. Fuck him and his fingers now.

“Shit, Dean. I’ve been seeing this car all week. She’s beautiful.” You walk towards her, carefully, in case you spook her. She’s an old soul, probably jumpy. Your hand reaches out but doesn’t touch her yet because you’re being respectful.

You’d have thought Dean might have appreciated your care. Instead, he laughs and it catches you off guard. You whip your head back around to glare at him and he encourages you, “she won't bite.”

When you finally make contact she’s cool and glossy under your touch, but even so, you don’t run your hand over her like you want to. You can feel the waxed surface that you don’t want to ruin. You know how much effort goes into a good wax job like this. Instead, you trade your whole hand for your fingertips and trace her edges as if trying to remember her shape for when you rebuild your own.

“Ahem.” In the distance, Dean clears his throat. Sucks for him. You’ve got a new love interest.

“Sweetheart?” He asks again, stepping up closer to you as if you didn’t hear him. He sounds needy like he wants you, but it’s edged with this vulnerable envy. You already noticed his bright green eyes in the bar, now you're wondering if there’s a different green-eyed monster at play.

He needs to understand, you saw the car first. She’s held your heart all week, Dean piqued the interest of your lady parts about half an hour ago. You might say age before beauty but this Impala has Dean beat on both fronts, older and more beautiful.

“Where’d you get these rims, if I didn’t know better I’d almost say they’re original,” you spare him a glance over your shoulder. “But I do know better.”

He looks like he’s struggling with not having your full attention, you’d almost say he’s pouting. Then he sticks out his bottom lip and he's definitely pouting. He shuffles from foot to foot and steels his jaw. It makes it even more difficult for him then when you ask questions that he wants to answer. You can see the cogs turning where he’s trying to work out if he should encourage your interest or not. As much as he wants sex, in the end, the gearhead wins out.

“Fixed her up a lot over the years, found those in a junkyard if you believe it.” He steps up next to you now with a proud smile.

“I can believe it. I’ve seen the stuff people throw away. They’re perfect. Can I?” You slide out your phone and wave it at him.

He nods, although a little dumbstruck.

You bend down and snap a picture, explaining. “I was looking at a sixty-eight to rebuild, maybe. Actually, yours gave me the idea, saw her and couldn’t get her out of my head. I have a friend who might be able to help me out with these.”

“You wanna build one?” He sounds interested but not enough to get him off track. The track being you.

“Yeah. I told you I’m a mechanic. Building these things is in my blood.”

The air is cool and you start to feel it, not having intended being outside this long. He sees you shiver and steps behind you running his hands up and down your arms. “Sixty-eight ain’t a sixty-seven though, is it?” He asks, voice dripping with cocky arrogance about his car.

Oh, fuck. He’s figured out the way to your heart. He’s got you all turned around and leaning against her. Back pressed against her metal and glass enough that you’ll be feeling her for weeks.

“No, it’s not…”

“Wanna ride my Baby?” Dean presses his lips to the corner of your mouth with the question, leaving enough space for you to let out an almost inaudible gasp.

You’d be inclined to say men name their cars the dumbest shit sometimes but ‘Baby’ fits somehow. It’s perfect. She’s Baby.

“Yeah,” you nod. Right now, it's all you’ve ever wanted.

He walks you to the passenger’s side door and opens it’s for you. It’s not even romantic, it’s a fucking turn on.

Maybe you do have a car fetish. You should probably figure that out, like, another day.

In the time it takes Dean to strut to the other side you have sunk into the leather and just as you imagined, it’s soft. Worn and loved, like everything else about this beauty. This is what’s makes her special and that’s why you would have to love your own extra hard. To make up the years of neglect.

“Ready to go?”

He’s looking at you, smirking in your peripheral, and you’re looking at his fingers on the keys. You know what’s going to happen when he turns them. You’re still not prepared.

“Let’s do it.” A grin slides onto your face.

She rumbles to life beneath you. The vibrations from her engine shudder through the seat straight to your core. From there you swear the horsepower zips to every nerve ending in your body like electricity powering a city. And the sound could strike you down. She somehow purrs and roars at the same time. Each rev is a scream but her engine sings between each turn.

“Two eighty-three?” You ask, bottom lip caught behind your teeth.

“Get out of here with that two eighty-three crap. She’s a three twenty-seven.” He snaps, but not really, pressing his foot on the gas again just to see you quiver. Another rotation of the engine, her power, rolls through you.

He pulls out onto the road, leaving the dive behind, and drifts a little as he does, the back of her floating into the road. You slide over the seat an inch and he’s half focused on you, half focused on driving, so you're not even sure if he planned it. You scoot closer to him and he weighs his arm, the one not currently steering, around your shoulders. You’re becoming increasingly aware that the car smells like him, or he smells like her. Leather, sweet and spicy, musky. It’s a complicated mix where you’re not sure whether it's more her or him. You want to wrap yourself up in it all the same but Baby can’t wrap you up, Dean can.

“Dean I… Next left… I really, really love this car.”

He licks his lips as he looks down at you, his pupils wide, probably has a clear view of your chest, “yeah? How much, sweetheart?”

“A lot.” You pant in his ear, teeth grazing his lobe. “Second right, then it’s the third house on the left.”

A growl comes out of him. Determined. And you’re not so sure you care about fucking Dean anymore but each time you work him up a little higher, he revs that gorgeous engine and you get to feel that thunder. It’s the best circle jerk you could imagine, everyone is truly happy.

He pulls up in front of your house in record time because Baby is gunning 285 horsepower, so she’s not exactly going to be beat.

The problem, that you hadn’t really planned on, is arriving at your destination. As soon as he cuts the engine you puncture. Missing the everything about her straight away and wishing you’d kept driving for hours. Still, you have the scent of leather everywhere, burdening your senses with the smell of a bygone era. You hike a leg over Dean and sit in his lap. A knee either side of his thighs, denting her seats and Baby’s steering wheel holding the curve of your ass. Your hands skip Deans’ shoulders in favor of the seat behind him, the cushioned bench under the pads of your fingers, as you attach your mouth to his. Sandwiched between Baby and Dean, and you never want to leave the spot.

Your tongue curls into his mouth at the same time that he presses his fingers into your hips so tight you’re sure there’ll be bruises. You’ve never worried about a tight grip on you before but he starts pulling you towards him and away from where you’re wedged on Baby. The more you lean your body into Dean, the less you feel his car.

“Baby.” You murmur into him. Dean must mistake it to be a pet name you’re borrowing, calling him, because he pulls you again. Actually you’re telling him where you want to be, to stay.

Here. With Baby.

“This is a nice neighborhood.” He hums in this tone that’s deep but it doesn’t go through you like the sound of a turbo V-8. “We should take this inside.”

He’s right. Carl from the damn neighborhood watch is probably already doing just that, watching. The pervert.

“Right, sure.” You agree despite the way your stomach drops at the thought of leaving her.

You’re all untangling limbs getting out and he kisses you once more against Baby before you allow him to drag you away. It already feels different, normal, boring.

Dean’s fine, he’s good, he’s handy. Like you’d thought he would be.

You wrap your mouth around his dick because you’ve always liked looking up through your lashes and seeing the way a guy goes breathless on your tongue. He works you open on his thick fucking fingers until the pressure in your stomach snaps with his thumb circling your clit. He pushes into you and the stretch, the burn, is perfect. Dean is better in bed than you’d expected him to be.

And yet, it’s empty. Dulled. It doesn’t scratch the itch like good sex used to. The whole experience dampened compared to what you’d felt sitting in the front seat of his 1967 Chevy Impala.

You slip on some oversized shirt from your floordrobe to walk him out when he leaves. Neither of you under any impression that he’s staying the night. He’s got this satisfied grin on his face that he hasn’t been able to wipe off since the first time he came. He stops at your doorstep, “thanks, sweetheart. This was fun.”

“Sure was,” you agree, not giving him the full story. Standing at your doorway you’re looking at Baby instead of Dean, again. “Let me know if you’re still in town tomorrow, I’d love to go for another ride.”

He nods and backs away a few steps until he’s in your line of sight along with his car, “will do, baby.”

He must think you mean sex. You wouldn't be opposed to it but you mean a drive. A real drive with wide roads, and opening the taps. You can break that to him tomorrow if he does give you that call. If he doesn't then there's only one thing you need to say before he leaves. One thing you can't let her leave without saying.

“One helluva car you got there, Dean.”

Second A/N: Look, this didn’t start out as a full on car fetish but I was writing it and SOMETIMES I HAVE NO CONTROL. Sometimes these characters they say, “fuck you!” and do what they want. I was going to write a nice little jealousy thing. Dean wants some attention. That’s all. You only have yourselves to blame readers!

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewill-blog @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 @jesseswartzwelder Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer @iamabeautifulperson18 @erins-culinary-service

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princess-of-riviaa · 4 years

Text

Vices chapter 4: Something More?

Chapter 1: First Time

Chapter 2: Liar

Chapter 3: Work Conference

Chapter Summary: You return from your work trip and find that you have a lot to discuss with Ransom.

Series Summary: A friendship with Ransom Drysdale is one thing; a relationship with him is another. Is your love for each other strong enough to keep you together? Or will nothing be able to keep you from ending in tragedy?

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning(s): drinking, blowjob

The airport is crowded and busy as you walk out of the boarding gate. You adjusted your carry-on bag around your shoulder as your coworkers waved you goodbye and walked towards the baggage claim. James, the only coworker you considered a friend, stayed by your side as he continued ranting to you about his boyfriend, Steve.

“Y/N!” A man’s voice called out.

You and James both spun to see Ransom walking towards you. He looked angry. Before you could question what he was doing here, he wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed you--hard. You would have pushed him away--neither of you were big on PDA--but you’d missed him so much that you couldn’t help but kiss him back. His tongue brushed against your mouth, though he didn’t kiss you any further. He gave you just enough of a taste of him to tease you.

“Hi,” you said when he pulled away. The kiss left you breathless and your cheeks burned.

Ransom kept his arm around you as he took in James beside you. “Who the hell are you?”

“Ransom!” you scoffed.

“It’s okay,” James assured you, ever the gentleman. He extended his hand towards Ransom. “I’m James. I work with Y/N. She’s an amazing woman.”

The compliment only made Ransom pull you tighter against him. He completely ignored James’ outstretched hand.

James let his hand drop awkwardly to his side. You hoped he understood your apologetic look as he looked back at you and said, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early,” you agreed, giving him a smile.

He nodded. “Bright and early.” And then he was gone.

You turned on Ransom with a scowl. “You don’t get to treat my friends like that.”

“He was ogling you,” he spat.

“He’s gay,” you replied, resisting the urge to slap him. “What the hell are you doing here anyway?”

“I had the grand idea to pick you up,” he said. “Which was clearly the right thing to do, considering that prick was seconds away from sticking his tongue down your throat.”

“He. Likes. Guys.” You enunciated. Sometimes you seriously wanted to grab Ransom by the shoulders and just shake him.

He gave you a disbelieving look. “You sure about that?”

You huffed. “Let’s just go.” You weren’t in the mood to fight.

“Where the hell are you going?” Ransom shot at you as you headed for luggage claim.

“I have to get my other bag,” you said, not waiting for him to follow.

He finally met you at the carousel, looking like he regretted deciding to pick you up. Your bag took forever to make its way to the carousel. Ransom made it very clear how inconvenienced he was by the wait and how he would never have to suffer like this on his family’s private plane. He was still complaining when your bag finally appeared. You anticipated the struggle of carrying it to Ransom’s car--when he grabbed it for you without a word. Wow. That was the one nice thing Ransom had done for you in a week.

You were both quiet as he drove you home. You must have dozed off at some point because the next thing you knew the car was parked in front of Ransom’s loft in the city. The delirium kept you from asking Ransom what you were doing here as you made your way inside. By the time you waved off the last of your sleepy confusion, you were in the dining room.

The table was set up with lit candles sending a faint aroma of something sweet around the room. Two plates of fish tacos were set up.

“What--” you began.

“I had the maid set it up while I picked you up,” Ransom explained. “Fish tacos are still your favorite, right?”

You nodded as you looked at him. “I didn’t... I... You did this for me?”

He shrugged. “I figured you’d be hungry after the flight.”

All the frustration you’d felt for him in the last hour disappeared. Your heart clenched in your chest. This was so sweet.

“It’s gonna get cold if you just stand there drooling over it,” Ransom said.

You didn’t even roll your eyes at his stupid comment, a grin still plastered on your face. You both took your seats across from each other. Ransom ate slowly--he always ate slow, showing restraint even when he was starving--while you inhaled your three tacos.

“That was so good,” you sighed once your plate was cleared. “You should seriously give Yeni a raise.”

Yeni, his maid, had worked for Ransom for two years. She was his longest-standing maid. With his temperament and rich-boy attitude, most people ended up quitting within the first week. But Yeni had stayed. You’d met her a handful of times and actually liked her. She was sweet and warm and always gave advice like a loving grandmother.

Ransom didn’t bother replying as he continued to eat. You’d argued for Yeni’s case before and he’d always refused to give her even one more dime. It was something you’d both agreed to disagree on.

“Do you have any wine?” You asked as you rose from your seat and brought your plate to the kitchen.

“It’s in the cooler,” Ransom hollered.

You cleaned off your plate and put it in the dishwasher before walking over to the wine cooler beside the pantry. You decided on a bottle of cabernet and grabbed two glasses before walking back to the dining room. Ransom had finished his food in the time it took you to come back, so you took his plate to the sink and told him to fill the bottles. You returned to find both of your glasses nearly overflowing, the entire wine bottle split between you.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” you laughed as you grabbed your glass and took a sip, savoring the sweet bitterness.

“I don’t have to get you drunk to have my way with you,” he replied easily. The look he gave you made your toes curl and your smartass reply died in your throat.

You were seriously in love with this annoying, perfect asshole.

You took a large sip of wine to distract yourself and moved to the living room. You stopped when your gaze landed on the couch--the exact spot you and Ransom had first been together. You swallowed down some more wine. The glass was already half-empty. Still, you wanted more. Your nerves were on fire tonight. It was impossible being around Ransom while you were keeping your feelings to yourself.

Ransom came up behind you, his chest brushing against your back. “Remember when I took you right there?” he asked, motioning to the couch. Then he laughed and said, “The same day you swore porn had no effect on you.” His arm circled your waist and pulled you against him. You released a soft sigh as you rested your head against his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat against your back.

Those three words were stuck in the back of your throat. You wanted to tell him how you felt, but you’d been there all the times other girls he’d slept with had said it to him, and you’d seen how quickly he ran. You couldn’t bear it if he did the same to you.

So you swallowed down the words with another large gulp of wine.

“Are you wanting to get drunk?” He chuckled as he watched you finish off your glass.

You avoided his gaze, avoided the couch, and walked to his bedroom. Your head began to pound from the wine. Ransom was hot on your heels.

“What’s up with you?” His tone was demanding, but you knew him well enough to sense his underlining worry.

“I think I should get home,” you said. “I have to get up early for work tomorrow.”

He blocked your way to the door. You finally looked up at him and found worry in his beautiful blue eyes. “Talk to me.”

The wine wasn’t making you feel any better. If anything, it was making it more of a challenge to hold back what you wanted to tell him. You suddenly wished you were back in L.A., a whole country between you and Ransom. “I can’t.”

He closed the small distance between you and cupped your face in his hands. “Since when can’t we talk to each other?”

Since I fell for you. You clamped your mouth shut, not letting the words come out. But he was insistent on an answer, so you gave him the next best thing. You said, “I don’t want to talk right now.”

He opened his mouth to demand an answer, but you kissed him before he could say anything. The wine made you clumsy and the kiss was sloppy. Ransom kissed you back, hard, and moved you towards his bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you on top of him. Your legs straddled his waist. His semi-hard erection brushed against your core and you moaned into his mouth. Ransom grabbed your ass and pushed you harder against him, making both of you gasp with pleasure.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed into your mouth. “I’m never letting you go on another work conference.”

You left a trail of teasing kisses down his neck before kissing the hollow of his throat. He growled as you nipped at his weak spot. He grew harder and his erection pressed tightly against your core, which was already dripping for him.

“I wanna suck you off,” you whispered in his ear.

“Then do it,” he growled, letting you slide off him.

You kneeled on the floor between his legs and took in the sight of his erection straining against his jeans. Ransom sat up and rested his weight on his elbows to watch you. You touched him over his jeans before giving his erection soft kisses. A second later you had his jeans unbuttoned and unzipped and pulled them down. The jeans and his underwear landed in a pile in the corner. You brought your attention back to his cock. He was hard and red and aching for you, his tip already leaking precum.

“Put your mouth on me, baby,” Ransom gasped, breathless from the anticipation.

You complied. A gentle, teasing kiss to the head of his cock made him groan. You looked up at him and held his gaze as you teased him with small kitten licks. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock and slowly began to move up and down, your tongue continuing to lick the precum from his tip. He let out a string of curses.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” he growled.

You blinked up at him through your lashes and gave him your best innocent look. “What do you mean? Like this?” You gave his tip another lick, too short and quick for him to really feel any pleasure. “Don’t do that?” Just to get under his skin, you licked him again.

“Fuck,” he growled. “Do that again and I’m gonna have to punish you.”

Your thighs clenched at the thought. Would he spank you? Or would he choke you? Either way, you wanted him to punish you.

“Put your mouth on me like a good little girl and don’t tease,” he ordered.

The dominance in his tone made you comply. You finally wrapped your mouth around his cock and swirled your tongue around the tip. He groaned and lied back on the bed, letting himself enjoy every second of your mouth on him. You moved your hand up and down his length as you began to take more of him in your mouth. He was big and you struggled to fit all of him inside your mouth. You hollowed out your cheeks as your tongue swirled around his cock, your lips sucking around him tightly. It didn’t take long for him to start bucking his hips into your mouth. You let him move inside of you and tried not to gag as his cock brushed against the back of your throat.

“Relax for me, baby,” he said breathlessly. “Let me in.”

You took shallow breaths in through your nose as you tried to loosen the muscles of your throat. He continued to buck his hips and move deeper inside of your mouth. This time, you were relaxed enough that he could fit all of his length inside of you even as it brushed against your throat. The feeling of your throat tightening and loosening around him made him lose control. He gripped your hair with one hand and began moving your head up and down his length. You relaxed and let him use you to reach his high. He moved faster than you could keep up with and before long you were gagging around him, but he was so close, his cock twitching in your mouth, that he couldn’t stop from face-fucking you. A second later his cum shot down your throat and he released a moan that made your toes curl. His cock twitched in your mouth as he continued to release his seed. You swallowed it all, savoring the taste of him. He pulled out you and concentrated on catching his breath.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Only then did everything come back to you. While you were sucking him off you’d forgotten. Forgotten about your aching, forgotten about the pain of keeping silent. But now it all came rushing to the surface.

“Now it’s my turn,” Ransom said as you rose to your feet, greedily reaching for you.

But you shook your head and stepped back. “I wanna go home.”

He frowned, clearly surprised. “Baby--”

“Take me home, Ransom. Please.”

He sighed. “You’re really not gonna tell me what’s fucking with you.”

No, you thought. I never will.

...

“Y/N, it’s me. Let’s get together when you get off work tonight.”

“It’s Ransom. Did you get my last message or are you ignoring me now? Call me back.”

“Are you fucking that prick Jimmy? That guy from the airport? Is that why you’re suddenly too good for me?”

“Come on, baby. I know you miss me. Call me back.”

“Where the hell are you? No one’s been at your apartment for days. Call me!”

“Okay, cut the bullshit, Y/N. No one in town has seen you for days. Where the hell are you? If something happened to you... I’m gonna fucking kill them. If someone hurt you, I’m gonna kill them. Just give me a sign that you’re alright before I go and get myself arrested for murder.”

“Baby, please. Answer me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I ever did to you. Just please come back. Please be okay.”

#ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey x you #ransom thrombey fanfic #ransom thrombey imagine #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fic #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #knives out #knives out movie

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 3 years

Text

The Dutchess’ Garden - Part 1

Series Masterlist - Chris Evans Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Pairing: Chris Evans x OC Emma Meijers

Warnings: Strong language, age difference, smut but not really smut

Word count: 1922

‘Good evening gentlemen,‘ a female voice calls from behind the bar, ‘you must be here for Robert and Mark. They’re outside. I’ll be right there to take your order.‘ Chris can’t help but stare for a second. Who is this woman and why has he never seen her before? She looks beautiful. Golden waves brush her shoulders, heart shaped lips painted red, rosy cheeks, and bright blue eyes. While Tom is already standing on the doorstep to outside, Chris hesitates. ‘Chris, are you coming?’

‘Oh, yeah, of course,‘ Chris stutters and tries to pretend he wasn’t staring at the bartender just a second ago. The two venture outside to find a deck atop the green sea in front of them. It could seat a pretty big party if you squeezed, but by the way the seating spaces are spread on the deck you can tell that that’s not what they’re going for. It’s cozy, with string lights everywhere, candles on the tables, celebrities littered throughout the place looking completely at rest. Some are with others chatting away, others are reading, some are simply enjoying the music playing through the outside speakers. ‘Ah, you found it,‘ Robert calls over to the two men walking. They gain a few looks, a few greetings, and walk over to Robert and Mark where they sit down. ‘Welcome to The Dutchess’ Garden,‘ Mark says, raising his glass to the two. Chris looks confused at the shape glas. It stands on a leg like a wine glass, but has an hourglass kind of shape, with the upper part cut in half so that the top bit is wider than the bottom. On the table is a bottle in a wine cooler filled with ice water, but it doesn’t look like it’s wine. ‘So what is this place,‘ Tom asks as both of them take a seat. He doesn’t seem as confused about the glass. ‘It’s a kind of secret bar for celebrities who don’t always want cameras in their face,‘ Mark tells them, ‘Robert took me here the first time we filmed something from Marvel together.‘ ‘And how did you find it,‘ Tom asks Robert. ‘Robert helped my father find a place to start it,‘ a female voice says and the group sees the bartender from before stand at their table. ‘Gentlemen, meet Emma Meijers,‘ Robert introduces, ‘her dad and I go way back. He helped me out when I was stuck in the Netherlands once and we kept in touch. Anyway, she runs the place now.‘ Chris looks her up and down with starts in his eyes. Emma is not your typical skinny model. She has an hourglass figure with a little more sand that is perfectly accentuated by the copper wrap dress that she wears. Though the dress conveys a mature look, her kiwi socks and white sneakers don’t. They mix the playful with the mature to come out with a sort of teasing image. She has her ears pierced in multiple places and wears golden rings and dangling earrings in them. Around her neck are two different golden necklaces. One a simple chain, the other a chain with a coin hanging from it. She wears a brown hair tie around her wrist and has chipped, red nailpolish. Chris is mesmerized, but that doesn’t mean the others don’t stare. ‘Thank you for the introduction Robert,‘ Emma smiles, ‘I hope you have told your guests about the secrecy of The Dutchess.‘ ‘I have not,‘ Robert turns back to us, ‘The Dutchess is a secret bar like Mark said, but she also asks for her guests to keep the secret. Not all celebrities know about her and she tries to keep her clientele the right crowd by being a members only and invite only bar. So no telling others until The Dutchess decides you can be a member.‘ Emma nods with a smile. ‘Now that we have that out of the way,‘ she says, ‘Mark and Robert are enjoying some jonge jenever, but I can get you anything else. We have several different types of Dutch and Belgian beers, we have gin though I would suggest trying the jenever over gin, and we also have some different kinds of whiskey.‘ She looks at Chris with a wink. ‘Of course we also have ice if you need ot water it down.‘ A laugh erupts from the group. ‘Emma, I think they’ll like the jenever. Can you get us two more glasses and another bottle of water?‘ ‘Of course Robert, I’ll be right back.‘ ‘She’s a feisty one,‘ Chris huffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest. ‘Come on Chris, you can’t seriously tell me a pretty girl made you sulk because she called you a pussy for drinking whiskey on the rocks,‘ Robert laughs. Chris sighs, but Tom is already in the next topic. ‘So it’s The Dutchess is spelled with a T because they’re Dutch? That’s such a fun play on words,‘ he comments, ‘but how do they keep their staff quiet?‘ ‘From what she told me,‘ Robert explains, ‘they ask the staff to sign a contract that requires them to keep The Dutchess secret. Otherwise they get fired and are sued.‘ ‘So they’d never hire you,‘ Chris jokes, trying to take the attention away from him more. But it backfires as Emma reappears with the glasses and the water. ‘But I wouldn’t hire you either,‘ she says, ‘you’re too big and I doubt anyone other than Chivas would want a superhero that drinks whiskey on the rocks.‘ ‘Is this how it’s going to be tonight,‘ Chris asks, trying to sound jokingly. ‘I mean, I could start asking why you consider jellybeans a food or ask you if you can drive,‘ she jabs at him. ‘How do you know all this stuff?‘ ‘Dutchess secret,‘ she teases with a wink as she puts down the glasses. ‘Don’t sell yourself short Emma,‘ Mark smiles, ‘she’s a great hostess and because you can’t get in here without giving a name, she researches people before they come here so they get the best service.‘ ‘And she shames everyone who drinks whiskey on the rocks,‘ Robert adds, ‘she did the same thing when we brought Hiddleston here. He drinks Jameson on the rocks.‘ ‘You’re not supposed to drink whiskey on the rocks,‘ she says in her own defense, ‘it’s a pure product. You should drink it pure. Or if it’s just a temperature thing, you could ask for a cold glass, but-‘ ‘You’re rambling darling,‘ Robert says with a smile. She tucks some hair behind her ear with a small blush forming on her cheeks. ‘So sorry about that,‘ she says, ‘but to ramble on a little longer for our newcomers. The drink you have in font of you is jonge jenever. It’s the drink gin was based of off and it is far superior. I don’t just say this because I am Dutch and it is a Dutch drink. It’s genuinely better. You’re supposed to fill your glass to the brim and drink it cold and pure. Enjoy.‘ She walks off, walking past a few other tables to have a chat and a laugh. Chris watches her go around. ‘She knows a lot about all that,‘ Tom says as Robert pours all of them a glass of jenever. ‘She studied it,‘ Robert tells them, ‘she knows a lot. Wine is her area of expertise. She is not really a sommelier, but she was studying it before she had to take over here.‘ ‘Take over?‘ Tom looks a bit concerned at the word choice Robert had made. It would imply something bad happened. 'We shouldn’t gossip about Emma,’ Mark says, ‘she took over for her dad. That’s all.‘ Chris nods agreeing, but he wants to know more. Not like this though. He wants to hear her tell it. In fact, he wants her to tell him anything. Her voice is wonderful to listen to. Even when she makes fun of him.

‘I hate to be a buzzkill, but I’m doing the last round,‘ Emma says with a kind smile, ‘I don’t mind staying open a little longer, but I do have to move you guys inside if you want to stay.‘ The four men look at her like she spoke gibberish and only now realize that they’re the only ones left. ‘That’s alright Emma, I think Mark and I will be leaving,‘ Robert says and turns to Tom, ‘Tom, do you need a ride into town?‘ ‘Yes, that’d be great.‘ ‘Good, Emma, would you be a doll and tell Marcus we’re ready to leave?‘ ‘Of course,‘ she says and scurries back inside to warn the driver who had been sitting inside the whole evening. Emma had offered him a book of hers when he finished his, which she did more often when drivers had to stay for a long time. ‘Your driver has been here the whole time,‘ Tom asks in amazement. ‘Yes, Emma takes great care of him,‘ Robert tells him, ‘makes him virgin cocktails and coffee or a meal if they want.‘ ‘She really is a great hostess,‘ Mark adds as he gathers his stuff. Marcus walks outside to alert the men that he’s ready to get them home. ‘You’ll be fine, right Chris?‘ ‘Oh yeah, don’t worry about me.‘ The group says goodbye and Chris is left alone, outside, enjoying the view and the quietly played music. Emma walks outside with a beer bottle in hand. She sits down next to Chris to enjoy the view with him. ‘I’m sorry, did you want me out,‘ he asks Emma a bit shocked. ‘No, it’s fine,‘ she says, ‘I’m done inside, so I thought I’d join you for a drink. If you don’t mind, of course.‘ ‘I enjoy the company,‘ he says with a smile. She watches his face with a smile. There’s a slight drunk blush on his cheeks, but nothing too bad. She saw he had drank the least out of all of them, drinking more water to keep himself grounded. ‘Can I pour you another one or are you good?‘ ‘If you’re not going to shame me, I’d like a whiskey on the rocks.‘ She chuckles. ‘What kind?‘ ‘Surprise me.‘ ‘That’s not a kind of whiskey,‘ she teases, but she’s off before he can jab back at her. He watches her walk away. She is truely stunning. He wonders how a business like this keeps existing, but they probably ask more for drinks or something. ‘I played it safe,‘ she says as she hands him a glass, ‘it’s Chivas.‘ He smiles and absentmindedly puts an arm over the back of the bench they’re sitting on, almost brushing her shoulder with his hand. ‘Wow, you’ve been liberal with the ice,‘ he jokes. ‘Whiskey on the rock,‘ she laughs, ‘if you want more, there’s an ice machine behind the bar.‘ ‘You’re just going to let me behind the bar,‘ he smiles a bit confused. ‘I’m off duty. Making you that drink was me being friendly. You gotta get your own stuff now,‘ she teases. He laughs and as the evening gets later, the two get more familiar with each other. But all nights must come to and end and so does this one. Emma lets Chris out the front door and throws him another sweet smile. He starts walking away, but she calls after him. He stops and turns around to find her running after him. She hands him a piece of paper. ‘Just so you know,‘ she smiles shyly, ‘you’re always welcome here. Would be a shame to refuse someone living this closeby.‘ She runs back inside and he watches her. When the door closes he checks the piece of paper he got. It’s a flyer with the opening times of The Dutchess’ Garden, as well as a form to sign up to be a member.

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x oc #chris evans #chris evans fluff #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #captain america #captain america fanfic

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eternalstann · 5 years

Text

Birthday Deja Vu

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Smut..yktv

Summary: You surprise your best friend Tom for his birthday and things go even better than expected :)

Tom never forgot the day he first met you. It was three years ago, and they were about to wrap up filming Spiderman homecoming. They were all going to Zendaya’s house to celebrate. She’d told them she’d invited one of her childhood friends from when she was growing up in Oakland. The moment she introduced all of you, you all blended together like you’d been with them the entire time they’d known each other. Your magnetic energy is what made Tom so in awe of you; everyone there was dying to talk to you. Laura and Zendaya had been glued to your sides the whole night, And Jacob was constantly trying to make you laugh. You were just that amazing.

He’d been in the kitchen getting another wine cooler when you walked in, a vibrant smile on your face. Tom felt his self grow nervous, and tried his best to shake off the nerves only you made him feel. “You know you’re not supposed to be drinking in America, you’re only 20 Thomas!” You scold, wagging your finger at him jokingly before cracking open your own drink. “If I’m not supposed to be drinking then you’re definitely not supposed to be. How old are you again; 19?” He laughed, raising an eyebrow at you. “I guess it’ll have to be our little secret then” you smirked, holding your bottle up for a cheers.

“Our little secret!” you both say in unison before clinking the cold drinks in each of your hands together.

———

The group of you hung out often, laughing so hard your stomachs hurt and talking about life. Tom remembered everything you’d ever told him. How you were in college studying be a dental hygienist, the way you teased him for calling college ‘Uni’. How you and Zendaya complained about having to do your hair every morning if you’d slept over. “Sometimes I wish I were a man so I could just cut it all off” you exclaimed, and Tom rolled his eyes at your dramatics. The way you and Jacob play fought; much to his dismay. He didn’t like how close the two of you got. It didn’t dawn on him until later on why it bothered him so much. He remembered the car rides, Harrison driving and the rest of you piled in screaming Chris Brown lyrics at the top of your lungs.

As time went on the amount of time you all spent together dwindled. Zendaya busy with her Tommy Hilfiger line, Tom shooting and you with school. All of you made it known how much you missed each other, texting your group chat often. But after a while even that died down, and Tom hated it. Some nights he’d scroll through your old texts, the silly pictures and wild links to random shit you wanted to share.

Today was one of those days. Tom was bored, even though Jacob and Harrison were with him. Only one person could hold his interest right now and that was you.

“Do you guys remember that time Y/N fell down the stairs but made sure to save the cupcake in her hand?” Tom asked, a fond look on his face. Jacob and Harrison looked at each other and shook their heads. “Bro, this is like the fifth time you’ve brought up Y/N today, you miss her or something?” Jacob stared at him and Tom sat up. “Of course I miss her, she’s our friend and we haven’t seen her in a while, I miss her the same way I’d miss either of you guys. Is it weird to miss my friend?” Tom shot back, locking his phone to make sure they didn’t see the picture of you he’d been staring at.

“No need to get so defensive Tom!” Harrison chuckled, “why don’t you just FaceTime her or something if you miss her so bad?” He suggested and Tom thought for a moment. “I...I don’t know actually” he answered. “Yeah I FaceTime Y/N all the time” Jacob spoke and Tom couldn’t stop the sour look that came across his face. “What?” Tom asked in disbelief, what did they talk about? “She was just telling me about how her car broke down while she was on her way to graduation”

“Graduation?!” Tom felt like a real dickhead now. You’d graduated from college and he hadn’t even known. “When was this?” he pressed, scrolling to your contact name. He was going to call you. “It was four days ago, and don’t call her now she’s on vacation with her family!” Harrison told him and Tom ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe it. Time truly had flown by, and he couldn’t help but worry that maybe too much time had gone by.

——

You had just walked back into your room when your phone began to ring, a FaceTime from Harrison. You smiled, grabbing the device and answering. “Hey Haz” you chirp, looking at the screen.

“Y/N!” He cheered and you noticed Jacob was with him. “Aww, you guys are together? I wish I could be with you, I miss you guys!” you cooed and they beamed at you. “Tom was with us too earlier, and we miss you too. That’s why we’re calling actually” Harrison replied. You felt your heart flutter at just the mention of Toms name. You raise your eyebrows and wait for them to continue. “We were thinking, in honor of you graduating, and Tom’s Birthday coming up that we all need to get together. Toms been missing you like crazy and it’s getting annoying” they both pretend to gag and you laugh. “Oh my god we totally should!” You tell them excitedly. The three of you don’t stop grinning the whole time you’re planning the little get together.

——

You cursed to yourself when you finally pulled into the parking spot in front of Tom’s house.. Fuck google maps. The place he was renting in L.A was beautiful, and you remembered that he’s a millionaire movie star in multiple block buster movies.

Suddenly your 2009 Jeep Compass looked really shitty. You debated on brining up your suitcase now but decided against it. You were going to stay for the weekend, today was Friday and Toms birthday was tomorrow. You walk up to the door, with your phone and keys in hand. You look down at your outfit; light blue jeans, white tank top and fluffy slides. You began to regret choosing to dress comfortable for the drive instead of actually looking cute. You shake your head and knock on the door. Not even thirty seconds go by before Zendaya pulls it open. “Daya!” You cry out as soon as you see her and she shrieks in response. “AH! I fucking missed you!” She yells jumping into your arms. You laugh and do your best to close the door with the extremely tall girl hanging on to you.

Toms head whipped to the door as soon as he heard your voice. He hadn’t known you were coming, but he’d never been happier to see anyone in his life. He watched as you spun Zendaya around, immediately noticing how long your hair had gotten, it was almost to your waist now. But it was when you finally put Zendaya down that he really got a chance to look at you. Once he did he felt his breathe hitch in his throat. “Holy shit” he heard Jacob murmur from beside him and he knew he saw all the same things he did.

The pair of light wash jeans you were wearing fit perfectly, accentuating your thighs, hips and of course your ass. Tom took a couple of deep breathes before he let his eyes travel upwards. Your midriff was bare, the white tank top you wore was cropped to show off your stomach. The skin there looked so smooth, and you’d pierced your belly button. The little diamond stud made Tom gulp. “Were her boobs always that big?” Jacob asked and Tom punched his arm. But he was asking himself the same thing in his head. He took in every inch of you. He studied your shoulders, only covered by the spaghetti straps of you shirt - no bra.

He shook himself from his lust filled trance. He was a grown man, acting like a teenage boy. You were one of his closest friends and here he was treating you like an object.

“Y/N...wow” Tom spoke breathily, standing up and walking over to hug you. It felt so good to hold you in his arms, and he relished in the giggle you let out when he squeezed you even tighter. You pulled back way too soon for Toms liking to look at him. “You look amazing, almost birthday boy” - your voice was so smooth, he could listen to you talk all day. “Look at your arms, my little Tommy is ripped!” You laughed and Tom hated how hot he felt from your words. “Look at you! Your hair, you look stunning. I missed you.” He rambled before hugging you again. he breathed in your scent, Of course you smelled amazing.

“Jeez Tom- we wanna hug her too!” Harrison exclaimed, yanking Tom away from you before pulling you in for hug. Tom wanted to punch his best friend but instead he sat down on the couch, leaving a spot for you so you could sit between him and Zendaya. After you’d greeted everyone you sat down. You turned your gaze to Zendaya, you could feel her eyes burning holes into you. “What?” You asked the girl with a mischievous smile curled across her lips.

“Um...last time I saw you we were almost the same bra size aka our tits were nonexistent. Now you have those things out here defying gravity” she smirked, poking the top of your cleavage and you pushed her hand away. “Oh my god, girl shut up!” You rolled your eyes. “No seriously, your boobs look amazing. I fucking wish” Harrison’s girlfriend chimed in and you felt bad, you’d already forgotten her name but you could tell that you were going to like her. “Did you get them done?” Jacob whispered loudly.

“You’re a clown Jacob, and I can barely afford to keep my car on the road, the last thing on my budget list is a boob job” you quipped. “I know I’m just kidding Y/N- What ended up happening with that by the way?” Jacob asks and you feel self conscience talking about your financial woes in front of your wealthy friends. “It’s cool- I got it fixed. My transmission was blown” you explain, hoping they would drop the subject.

“I’m glad you got it fixed! Someone ran into my car the other day” Zendaya added before going on talking about her accident. “Z, you just can’t drive” Tom snarked, earning a round of laughter.

The night went on with all of you laughing and talking, it wasn’t until four a.m any of you even thought about sleep. “You guys we have a whole day of plans set up for tomorrow, maybe we should go to sleep” Harrison suggests which surprises all of you. “I call sleeping with Y/N!” Zendaya shouts grabbing your hand but Jacob disagrees. “No way! Zendaya you go with Roxy, no one wants to hear her and Harrison fuck all night. Y/N should go with Tom and Harrison and I can share.” You try to hide how both nervous and excited you are about sharing a room with Tom. He makes you feel like a kid again. You all nod at the arrangements, except Harrison who is grumbling to himself as everyone says their good nights.

You walk into the kitchen, smiling to yourself when you feel a presence behind you. “You following me Thomas?” You ask, opening the door to the fridge and pulling out two wine coolers. “Yeah, I’m never letting you out of my sight again” Tom whispered and you feel butterflies in your stomach. You turn around to face him and hand him the drink, deja vu washing over you. “Let’s never go this long with out seeing each other again okay?” You croak, and you hate how needy you sound. “Trust me, you’re gonna want to block my number Y/N” he replied, taking a sip. The two of you drink in a comfortable silence, staring at each other.

“Let’s go upstairs” Tom murmurs, taking your hand in his and leading you to his bedroom. You feel like your floating. The buzz from your beverage and from being so near the man you were slowly coming to realize you were in love with. “Fuck! I left my suitcase in the car, my pajamas!” You hissed. “Y/N calm down, you can wear something of mine” the brown haired boy assured you. You nod at him and he looks at you warmly, “Downstairs I had the craziest feeling of Deja Vu. It reminded me of the night we first met” Tom confesses. You bite your lip, “I felt the same thing, it’s so crazy how time has flown by” you reminisce.

Tom hums, tossing you a T-shirt of his to sleep in. He strips down to his boxers, and climbs on the bed, he wriggled his eyebrows at you and motions for you to join him. “You’re sleeping in underwear, I will too” you shrug, tugging your jeans off and making your way beside him. “I mean...I’m not going to object” he chided. You lay down and face your friend, fixing a pillow under your head so you’re eye to eye. “Y/N I just want you to know how proud I am of you for graduating. You’re so incredible, I think you’re the smartest person I know. Congratulations” you can feel how genuine his words are. And the sincere expression on his face only convinced you further. You felt like crying. “I hope you know how proud I am of you too, movie-star” you giggle because you know how much he hates being called that. “Go to sleep, I love you” Tom confesses, his heart about to burst through his rib cage

“I love you too”

——-

Tom woke up first, and he has to do a double take at the sight of you splayed out in his bed in only your underwear. He groans and palms himself through his boxers. Of all mornings for him to wake up hard. He stares down at you. Your tank top had shifted so he could see your nipple, and the overwhelming urge to touch you coursed through him. It took every bit of his strength to tear his eyes away from your angelic form. He trudged his way to the bathroom and ran himself the coldest shower water he could stand.

When he comes back into the room, with his towel wrapped around his waist you’re awake. “Happy Birthday!” You scream, running to him and hugging his wet frame. “Thank you, thank you” He grins. “You smell nice” You note, before plopping back down on his bed. “Thank you..again. You can use my shower by the way” he points to the bathroom.

You were going to thank him when his door burst open. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY DICKHEAD” Harrison screams, followed the rest of your friends. Zendaya’s holding a cake, and Jacob your suitcase. They sing him an obnoxious rendition of happy birthday before they all disappear to get dressed. “I brought your suitcase up Y/N” Jacob tells you before he leaves.

Just like it always does when you’re with them, time flies by. You all go to lunch with his brothers Sam and Harry and spend the rest of day goofing off. Tom decided he wanted to go clubbing, much to Daya’s dismay - if it were up to her she’d never leave her house. But she agreed since it was his birthday. She had done your makeup for you, and had posted way too many pictures on her instagram story for your liking. She was still raving on about how good you looked as you slid into your heels.

“Let’s gooo” You sing-song and Zendaya follows you to the car. You two and Roxy decided to ride together so the boys could do whatever it is boys do.

Tom watched you walk into the club, and he knew he wasn’t the only one either. Zendaya and Roxy were beautiful- but you? He couldn’t even put it into words. He wanted to go over and wrap you in his arms, show everyone you were his. But you weren’t. You waved to him from across the room and he took a deep breathe before waving back, and walking over to you. “Let’s get fucked up!” You cheered grabbing his hand and leading him to the bar. “Two shots of patron on ice please” you smiled at the bartender and Tom balled up his fist at the way the man stared at you. “You got it gorgeous” he smirked, but you weren’t paying attention.

“Tom...TOM!” You call out to him, and he whips his head around to face you, pulling himself from his thoughts of strangling the bartender. This was going to be a long night.

Way too many shots and three hours later Tom was watching you and Roxy dancing, Zendaya recording and hyping the two of you up. “Aye!!! Go best friend, that’s my best friend!” She screamed. Harrison was laughing, a drink in his hand. Jacob was shitfaced, and you motioned for him to come over. He began dancing with the two of you, grinding together. Tom knew you were just having fun but he couldn’t help but feel jealous. “Oh shit! Get it Jacob” Zendaya yelled and Tom had to excuse himself to the bathroom. He was ready to go. He wished he was laying in bed with just the two of you, talking about about whatever you wanted. He stares at himself in the mirror. “Get it together Tom” he murmurs to himself.

When he comes back out the bathroom, you’re no longer on the dance floor. You’re sitting alone at the bar. Your head was resting in one of your hands, your other hand typing on your phone. “Hey” Tom spoke, and look up at him. “I was just about to text you!” You grin. You stand to hug him, pulling him close to you. “How was your birthday?” You whisper in his ear, arms wrapped around his neck. Tom shudders at the feeling of your breathe fanning against the shell of his ear. He places his own hands on your waist. “It was amazing, thank you Y/N” he kisses you on the forehead and you can feel yourself heating up. Everything he did was heightened due to your drunken state. You watched as he yawned and couldn’t help but frown. “You tired?” You ask, and he nods sheepishly. “Tommy can’t hang” you tease, “lets get out of here then” you smile. “Something tells me they’re not ready to leave” he laughs, shrugging towards the dance floor where Zendaya and Harrison were hitting the woah in sync.

“Let them stay then, we can just go” You offer, and Tom loves the sound of that. He nods, pulling up the Uber app off his phone and going to let the the rest of your friends know you were leaving. You stand, bobbing your head to the music while you wait. “Excuse me?” You hear a voice call out to you. You turn and recognize the bartender. “Yeah” you reply, still swaying to the rhythm. “I think you’re gorgeous and I was just wondering if I could get your phone number..” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck. You’re surprised at how nervous he seemed, and you bite your lip before nodding yes.

When Tom turns around to see you typing into some guys phone his heart drops into his stomach. “Y/N” he spoke walking behind you and putting an arm over your shoulder. “Who’s your friend?” Tom asks and you’d never wanted to be swallowed up by the ground more than that moment. Before you can speak, the bartender pipes up- “I’m Tyler, you are?” “Tom” he answers curtly, and you hear an edge in his voice you’d never heard before. “Nice to meet you Tom” “Yup you too” Tom quickly replies before pulling you towards the door. “Our Uber’s here” he informs you while you try you best to wave goodbye to Tyler.

“Jeez Tom” you exhale, once you’re inside the car. You stare at him but he stares at the back of the drivers head the whole car ride.

“Why’re you in such a hurry?” you giggle, poking his cheek, just before you step into the door. “You liked that dickhead?” He questions, shifting slightly on his feet. He regret asking you the moment the words left his mouth. What if he got an answer he didn’t like? “I mean he was cute, and nice” you shrug, not thinking much of it. “He was staring at you like you were his last meal the whole night!” Tom exclaims and your eyes widen.

“I’m a big girl Tom, you don’t need to worry about me” you reply. “I’m always worried about you! All I do is think about you all day long. I wonder what you’re doing or what you’re feeling. Because I love you, and not just in a friends type of way - I mean I love you like that too but-“ you cut him off and smash your lips to his. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, but you had to kiss him. And when you did, there were no words to describe it. A satisfaction and warmth like no other. You hum at the feeling of his lips against yours.

“Tom, baby, lets go upstairs” you whine, running your hands down his chest. He nods, leading you to his bedroom. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re drunk - we shouldn’t” he groans and you roll your eyes. “So are you” You quip, and you watch a look of deep thought cross over his face. “Are you sure you want this?” He asks and you nod, a sweet smile on your lips. “I’m gonna need words baby” he whispers grabbing your hair in his hand and pulling your head backwards. “Yes, Tom! I want this, I want you!” You answer back, you were willing to beg if that’s what it took to get him inside of you. “Shit, okay baby I got you” he groans, he pulls off his shirt, and you’re making quick work of his jeans. “You don’t need to rush, we’ve got all the time in the world Y/N. I’ve wanted this for so long, I wanna take my time with you” He tells you. You feel your heart swell and your pussy throb. You stare up at him, letting your eyes take in all of him. His hair was disheveled, face tinted pink. To you, he’s never looked better.

You stand, sliding the straps of your dress off your shoulders. Tom watches in awe as it drops to the floor. You can’t help but to giggle at the look in his face. “Tom, as good as you look standing there, I really need you to fuck me now” you murmur, taking a step towards him closing the space between the two of you.

“Y/N I love you” he breathes burying his face into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped around your waist and pulling you as close as he could. “I love you too” you gasp when he places a wet kiss to your neck. You push him backwards and drop to your knees, and Tom is shaking his head at the sight of you. He’d never been more worked up in his life. “Happy Birthday Tommy” you smile, taking his length in your hand and pumping it slowly. You watch his face scrunch up in pleasure and you hope this night never ends. You use your hand to guide him into your mouth and the sound he makes has you dripping. You bob your head, suctioning your cheeks to suck him properly. “Fuckkkk” Tom groans, placing a hand on the back of your head. Picking up your pace, you reach down to play with his balls and he’s falling apart at your ministrations.

You look up at him, head tilted back and mouth open. You use your other hand to scrape your nails down his stomach, and you feel the muscles tensing up beneath your touch. “Y/N I’m gonna cum baby” he warns you and you go even faster. You can’t wait to taste him. You use your hand to pump what you can’t fit in your mouth and seconds later he’s shooting his load down your throat. He’s calling your name while you swallow every drop.

He picks you up and places you on the bed, on your back. The way he’s staring down at you makes you squirm. “Fuck, I cant believe this is happening” he whispers to himself. “Spread your legs, let me return the favor” he demands and you oblige. He gets down between your open knees and you shiver when his fingers stroke over your wet core. You sit up on your elbows to watch him, and you feel yourself ready to burst at the first lick of his tongue against your pussy. “Tastes heavenly” he mumbles against your skin, and you’re heaving. His tongue licks up and down your slit, pushing between your folds and dipping inside of you. “Fuck Tom” you moan and you know you’re close. His tongue moves up to focus on your clit and your through, legs shaking and fingers twisted in the sheets.

“Need to get inside you baby” his voice is rough with sex and all you can do is nod at him. You open your eyes to look up at him when he climbs on top of you and his gaze is already on your face. “I really love you” he reminds you and you love hearing it but you’re so ready for him, “I love you too Tom, but pleaseeeee fuck me” you beg. He leans down to kiss you, soft lips against yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him back with every ounce of you.

“Okay, okay- I’m sorry darling” he laughs breathily, before sliding into you. He feels so good inside of you, you had to be made for each other. “Shit Y/N, you’re perfect” he’s thrusting into you like his life depends on it, and you can only hold on for the ride. You wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him deeper. You wanted him like this forever. “Tom!” His name fell from your lips over and over as drove you both to your peaks. He grabs your left leg, pushing it back to your chest and speeds up even more. His other hand goes to your throat, squeezing while he slides in and out of you. “Cum for my Y/N” his voice washes over you as you orgasm, him moments after.

His eyes never leave your frame; in awe as your back arches off the bed, pleasure etched all over your face. He lays down beside you, and you snuggle into his side.

“I think it’s safe to say this has been my best birthday yet”

________________

hey beautiful, wonderful people. I love just imagining Tom hanging with friends, I know he’s THE most fun person ever. Anyways I hope y’all like this. I really liked the beginning but the smut just ain’t it for me I almost wanted to cut it out🥴

I love y’all, message me w ideas!!

#tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland preference #tom holland x reader #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #peter parker smut #zendaya

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amydancepants-peralta · 4 years

Note

44 or 52 pls! :)

Hi anon! I tossed up over the two for a bit there, but here goes!

Here is 52: “I thought you knew.” 💕

☀️ The sun feels warm on Amy’s skin, and as a refreshingly cool breeze rushes through her hair she finds it next to impossible not to break out into a grin. Today was turning out to be a pretty great day.

Given that over the years the Santiago family have spread themselves out over various states and cities, it has always been considered a sizeable task to get more two or more members in the same place and the same time - major family events excluded. Perhaps that was why today felt particularly special; an impromptu gathering in the park leading to three of her brothers (and their extended family) occupying a decent amount of space in a park thirty minutes drive from her and Jake’s apartment.

The infectious giggles of two of Amy’s cousins, Maria and Eddie, bubble up to her ears as they zoom past, far too intent on winning their game of chase to acknowledge their tia as their tiny feet kick up blades of grass. Their father, Luis, stands over to Amy’s right, manning the grill and holding his ground in a relatively level-headed disagreement with David about the ‘right way’ to barbecue the meat they were serving with lunch. To her left, her sister-in-law Clarissa teaches her and Andrew’s daughter how to play patty cake. The relaxed joviality that can only be brought about by the gathering of loved ones is floating in the air around them, and Amy is endlessly thankful that both she and Jake had the chance to join in today.

Six months have passed since the birth of their daughter - since, in one evening, Amy had experienced both excruciating pain and an abundance of elation, all within five short hours - and it felt like both yesterday and a million years ago, all at the same time.

It had been an interesting few months to begin with (babies, she had quickly learned, are not interested in following any schedules you may have put together, no matter how meticulous they may be); and it was only in the last ten or so weeks that the three of them had finally been able to figure out a routine. Finally, their little girl was starting to sleep through the night, and she and Jake have learned to adjust to their new normal (which always seems to be changing; but if there is anyone that has taught Amy Santiago to expect the unexpected, it’s Jake Peralta).

None of it has been easy - most of the great things in life rarely were - but she would do it all again in a nanosecond, just for the sheer joy of hearing her daughter’s laugh for the first time.

Today, Amy stands amongst family with freshly cut hair (thanks largely to her husband taking an extra day off yesterday, pushing her out their front door with a declaration that today is Amy Day), wearing one of her favourite dresses and lending out a helping hand as she talks to other adults about topics other than teething and feeding schedules, and it all feels kind of amazing.

A stray breeze grabs a hold of a pile of napkins that had been sitting at the table, throwing them carelessly over the surrounding grass, and Amy scrambles quickly - desperate to catch them before they fall victim to the trampling feet of her many nieces and nephews. It turns out to be an almost impossible task, excusing herself with a polite smile as she moves too close for comfort towards other people’s gatherings, snatching up the items as quickly as possible so that she can make a hasty exit.

It’s as she moves to grab the last offender that Amy manages to overhear a conversation, the guilt at eavesdropping only temporary as she picks up on the topic. There are two women to her left, both of whom were nursing what looked to be wine coolers in plastic cups, and one woman’s focus was on something (or rather, someone) in the distance before her.

“Ohmygodokay, Jenna … don’t look right away, but I’ve totally just found the hottest guy at this park.” There’s a pause, and then the voice continues. “I told you not to look right away!”

“Okay, okay - relax Rachel!” was the snarky reply, following up quickly with an “Okay, damn!”

Still keeping her head bowed, Amy’s wedding ring set sparkles in the sunlight as she reaches out to grab the last napkin, and it’s taking all of her restraint not to straighten up and look in the direction the women were facing.

“See? I told you I’d found the winner.”

“Mmmhmm, yep.”

“The height, the smile, the baby sling strapped around him … you know, I’ve never really been big on plaid, but on this guy it totally works.”

“It really does.”

It’s the mention of the plaid pattern that finally piques Amy’s curiosity, and she swivels her head as she stands, raising her free hand above her eyes to shield them from the sun as she studies the scene before her.

And honestly, the gossiping girls behind her were not wrong.

The hottest guy in the park was definitely walking towards them; and with an overwhelming surge of pride Amy notices that the hot guy is, in fact, her husband. He’s wearing the eco-friendly sunglasses she bought him for Christmas, and has their baby daughter safely strapped to his chest care of the sling that Gina had given Amy at her baby shower, and he’s honestly never looked hotter.

Returning from Diaper Duty - a role he shares equally with his wife without a single complaint, a fact that makes her love him all the more - Jake grins over at Amy when he notices her looking, lifting their daughter’s hand in a tiny wave as she moves towards the two of them.

“Hey babe,” he says as Amy nears him, lifting his index finger to his lips in a shhh motion as they fall into step together. “Sorry it took me so long. Bubba took a little longer than normal to settle, so she and I just kinda hung out for a little bit over by the flower beds, and then she totally zonked out.”

Craning her neck, Amy looks over at the tiny sleeping bundle resting against Jake’s chest, and she cannot help but feel her heart smile at the sight. “My god she’s adorable.”

“Ugh, I know right? Like, obviously we were going to make a cute baby. But this? It’s like a whole other level of cuteness. I literally cannot handle it.”

Slowing down her pace, Amy waits until she and Jake are standing on the outskirts of their family gathering before leaning in for another look, this time leaving a gentle kiss against the hat that sat on top of their daughter’s head. (Truly, there was no way anyone could have prepared her for how endearingly tiny all of their little girl’s clothing would turn out to be. Tiny hats! Teeny tiny socks! Ruffle covered bottoms! It was all too much, and yet never enough.)

“Here,” Jake offers, revealing a plucked daisy; the white petals looking far too small inside his crazily sexy hands. “We picked this for you.”

With her eyebrows raised in surprise, Amy looks up at Jake with a smile, taking the tiny flower and tucking into the juncture of her ear and hairline. “You two … are just the sweetest,” she mumbles, grabbing Jake’s hand and bringing it up to leave a kiss against his wedding ring. He grins in return, resting his hand against her lower back when she frees it, leading Amy gently towards the rest of the guests as lunch begins to be served.

It’s over an hour before Jake and Amy find themselves with a chance to pull away from the others, tidying up the remnants of lunch before standing off to the side and watching their cousins negotiate one last round of playtime before the drive home.

Resting her head against Jake’s shoulder as his right arm wraps around hers, Amy lets out a contented sigh. Apart from a brief moment of activity where she’d demanded a bottle, their baby girl had spent the majority of the afternoon asleep against her father’s chest. Knowing that she was comfortable and safe, while she and Jake sat together with family and caught up on each other’s lives, had relaxed Amy to no end.

Smiling up at Jake’s phone as he whips it out to take a selfie, Amy nods in approval at the resulting image before remembering the conversation she’d heard earlier.

“You are totally the flavour of the day, by the way.”

Turning his head to the right, Jake studies Amy’s face for a moment before furrowing his brow, replying with a confused “Huh?”

Nodding her chin towards the other women in the park, one side of Amy’s mouth slides upwards into a amused grin. “Just before you got back from diaper duty, I happened to overhear a couple of girls talking. And they totally declared you to be the hottest dad around.” Turning her body towards his, Amy reaches out to toy with the lining of the unbuttoned plaid that he’d thrown over the top of his shirt today. “I, of course, could not agree more.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Jake pauses as the information sinks in, then shakes his head. “Hottest dad, huh?”

Pulling away slightly, Amy looks at him in surprise. “I thought you knew?”

Jake cocks his head to the side, and she smiles before continuing. “You’ve had the biggest smile on your face all afternoon, Peralta. It’s practically stealing the sun’s job, it’s so bright.”

Her husband laughs at the comparison, his left hand reaching out to cradle their daughter’s head as his chest bounces repeatedly. “Ames,” he responds, letting his right hand slide down Amy’s back before grabbing her left, “I’m out at the park with family on a long weekend off. I’ve got my baby girl all snuggled up safe and sound, and my gorgeous wife is walking around in the same pink dress I remember peeling off her body on the first day of our honeymoon. Life is pretty damn good today. It’s no wonder I’m smiling.”

Amy’s heart stutters a little at Jake’s statement, her bottom lip curling up at the sweet nature of the man she loves. How she managed to get this lucky, she’ll never understand. Pushing herself up to her tippy toes, she cranes her neck up towards Jake and pushes a quick kiss against his lips. “Good save, babe.”

“Not a save so much as it is the truth,” Jake counters, leaning back down for another kiss. “I’m the luckiest man alive right now, and that is the only thing I know.”

Cupping his cheek in her hand, Amy matches Jake’s smile with her own. “I love you, babe.”

“I love you, too.” Dipping his head, Jake kisses her once more, then pulls away quickly. “Wait. Does this mean … I’m a dilf?”

Twisting her mouth to one side, Amy pretends to consider the obviously correct title before nodding. “It totally does. But … only if that means that I’m a milf in return.”

Jake’s forehead leans against hers, and he holds Amy’s gaze as he winks, lowering his voice so that only she can hear his reply. “I think the events from two nights ago will confirm that is most definitely the case.”

Amy feels the blush begin at the tips of her ears, flooding her cheeks before she has a chance to control it, and Jake chuckles softly at her reaction, running his hand soothingly up and down her back as she rests her head against his shoulder again. Peeking down at their daughter, Amy takes in the fact that she’s still sleeping and whispers “Your daddy is always finding ways to make mama blush, bubba. We’ve gotta figure out some ways to counter-attack.”

“Oh, please. She had me wrapped around her little finger, exactly zero point two seconds after she was born.”

Chuckling softly, Amy nods in agreement. “Same. If only she knew the power she has over us.”

A minute snuffle comes out of their daughter’s mouth as if in response, her perfect little lips bunching up into a tiny pout as she nestles closer to Jake’s shirt. There’s a tiny trail of drool left behind, and like two totally enamoured parents, they both find themselves smiling at the result.

“Oh yeah, she totally knows.”

Nodding again, Amy wraps her free arm around Jake’s waist, closing her eyes briefly and breathing in the scent of his cologne as she lets the last of the day’s sunlight soak into her skin.

Truly, this was turning out to be an amazing day. And she had the strongest instinct that there were a thousand more great days, just like this one, waiting for them in the future. But the future could wait - because she had everything she needed, right here in her arms.

#anon I hope you enjoy!#this ended up longer than intended #but turns out the idea of writing Hot Dad Jake is a topic I could go on and on about #seriously I had to edit this riiiight down #my writing #tumblr prompts #gahh I really do hope you like this one #and if this topic has been done I'm sorry #I've been absent because STRESS WHAT STRESS #b99 fanfic #Jake x Amy fic #jake x amy #peraltiago fic

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deadbonessinderhellaton · 4 years

Text

People have such strange attitudes toward aliens.

@monsterkinkmeme

Based off of this prompt.

Rating: G/Citrus

Characters: Female character x female alien, there’s a nosy coworker being nosy too.

Summary: Every time that Abby tells her coworkers about the vacations to far off places that her girlfriend takes her to, they always panic and start throwing the word ‘abduction’ around.

Warnings: Police mention, kidnapping mention, but I promise that nothing bad happens except for a passive aggressive coworker trying and failing to be obnoxious, I should also let you know that the alien gf only shows up near the end as a text, but she’s the focus of the two characters’ conversation.

ao3

~~~

“So let me get this straight: last Saturday, an alien abducted you and took you to Pluto.”

Abby shook her head yes as she sipped her cup of water. “Yeah, just last week. Saalgaax and I had been planning a long weekend there for a while now.” She looked up, lost in thought. “I could have sworn I told you after I sent in my time off form,” she started in her slow, languid tone. “But then again, maybe I forgot to.” She was almost positive that everyone in her office knew that she and Saalgaax were dating. Then again, it was a big office - the Agency of Intergalactic Relations needed the space. From negotiating peace treaties between species to coordinating PR events, the Agency oversaw everything related to every way that humans and extraterrestrials could interact with each other. With her serving as one of the Agency’s Investigators, and Saalgaax on the Intergalactic Defense Force, there was no way the Agency couldn’t be aware of their relationship.

Lowry sighed. “Maybe I can make myself a little clearer for you,” she said. “Saalgaax the Deathbringer - the six foot, purple, multi-armed, musclebound alien who destroyed the black hole that was threatening the Great Magellanic Cloud - took you, a person to Pluto, a planet that is not Earth, in her large alien spaceship. That’s not a vacation, that’s an abduction from straight out of the movies.”

Abby shot a glance at Lowry. Some had called it odd that the Regulations office manager was always hanging around the Investigation department instead of her own, or how she had other people do tasks for her instead of her direct reports, or the way she expressed interest in knowing as much as she could regarding staff’s private lives, but Abby figured that everyone had their own special way of relating to others, just like everyone else. Regardless, her confusion registered to Abby as a bit odd, considering their line of work. “If a willing person gets into a vehicle with another, it’s not an abduc-”

Lowry jabbed an accusatory finger into Abby’s face. “That’s not the point here. You said you were going on vacation with your girlfriend. You said nothing about being abducted by an alien and heading to a foreign planet.”

She leaned against the water cooler and groaned. “And there’s the rub. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Pluto’s beaches were beautiful, and Saalgaax and I had the best time there, it’s just that-” Abby paused, searching for the right words. “I was just so worried that I wasn’t giving her anything in return, you know? I mean, I only make so much money as an Investigator. Right now, I could never afford to buy her tickets to far off destinations, or jewelry made from Carloxian singing rock like she does for me.” Abby laughed nervously and pushed a curl behind her ear. “It made me feel like I was being a bit of a...a mooch.”

“You were worried,” Lowry said dryly. “About being a mooch.”

Abby nodded sadly. “Every good relationship needs equal give and take, you know? I told Saal that sometime after we got back last week.” A smile crept up her face. “And she was so sweet about it. She was all like, ‘Baby, you’re not freeloading, I’m doing this because I want to spend time with you at sickass places. That’s why I earn all that money destroying the black holes that threaten the galaxy - so I can spend my off time stretching out on a beautiful purple sand beach with the hottest girl this side of the Oort Cloud.’ And then,” she continued. “I got a little choked up and was all like, “Saalii, that is literally the sweetest thing that anyone has ever said to me, like the nicest thing, and that I’d be just as happy with her on a picnic blanket down at Forrester Park as I would be on a beach in Pluto, or anywhere else, really.’” She beamed at her coworker. “Is it not the nicest thing you’ve ever heard?”

Lowry rolled her eyes. “For someone in Investigation,” she said pityingly. “I’m surprised that you didn’t catch onto Saalgaax’s motives earlier. Maybe you’re suited to a better department?” She continued without waiting for Abby’s reply. “Taking you to other planets, buying you expensive gifts - that sounds an awful lot like she’s fattening you up for the slaughter, or-or bribing her way into your heart to learn Earth’s secrets so she can attack our planet.”

“That doesn’t really sound like her style, to be fair. She’s part of the IDF’s Black Hole Corps, so she’s more likely to blow up one of those than one of us.”

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and began dialing, muttering under her breath the whole while. “Oh, she only blows up black holes, that gives me such confidence. You call this little charade whatever you want, but I’ll call it for what it really is.” She pressed her phone to her ear, lips squeezed thin with intent. “Hello, police? I’d like to report a kidnapping.”

Abby sighed wistfully, beaming at the memory. “You know, I knew Saal would say something like that, but hearing it from her, it just made sense, you know? I mean, yeah, she spends a lot of money on me, but everyone shows their love in different ways, and that’s hers.” She turned to look at Lowry. “We even talked a little bit about it, and she was all like ‘Baby, I can totally meet you in the middle. The Roberta Museum has a foreign film night on the lawn that you’d really like,’ and I got so excited because she remembered that I love foreign films.”

“Yeah, it was last Saturday, the 14th, around-” Lowry looked at Abby. “About what time did you leave last week?”

“Um...four o’ clock?”

“Four o’ clock, with a human woman by the name of Abigail Barthelemy being taken by a Saalgaax the Deathbri- why are you laughing?” A pause. “What do you mean, ‘everyone knows?’ Don’t you dare hang up on-”

The distant buzz of a dial tone echoed out from Lowry’s phone. With a snarl, she hung up and stomped away, muttering poisonously. Abby barely noticed - her own phone buzzed and sang out. She’d recognize the tone anywhere - she and Saalgaax had spent a night flipping through ringtones, singling out the ones that they liked and making fun of the truly terrible ones. The one that outranked its siblings - both in catchiness and cheesiness - was the ones that they set for each other’s notifications.

>>hey

>>thought about what u said last week about a picnic at forrester park.

Another text, this time accompanied by a photo of wine bottles on a grocery shelf.

>>how about u n me n a bottle of wine this sunday?

Abby couldn’t text back fast enough.

>> That sounds wonderful! I have just the right kind of cheese and crackers to go with it, too.

>> We can leave around three there, get there at four?

>>sounds perfect

>>its a date <3

~~~

Me: wow I have a lot of obligations to take care of huh

Also me: now’s a good time to write lesbian alien funtimes

#monsterkinkmeme #wlw #citrus #it's my birthday so you should read this #alien #lesbian

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