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lovechar · 5 days

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A Tender Touch.

pairing; James Farrow x Stirling!Reader

summary; after you get injured, james helps clean you up.

warnings; friends to lovers, violence, making out, grinding, fluff

notes; fem!reader but can be read as other, since the start, callum turner had been my main fancast for james idk why, i know james sleeps in the tower but shh, idk if anyone will even read this there’s like no iwwv x reader stuff, not much dialogue, no use of y/n, wouldn’t rly say any spoilers

As always, Richard got different, when he’d start drinking. He was always violent, since childhood, even—you remember back to when he’d accidentally hit you too hard with a pillow or shove you too hard playing tag. But the real violence, the real Richard, came out when he was blackout drunk, unaware of his actions and their consequences in the later moments.

Being his sister, you always tended to keep an eye out for him at parties, sipping slowly at your drink in an attempt to not get drunk and keep a clear mind. Occasionally, you’d let go and enjoy yourself, but the one time every couple months where he drank too much made you constantly paranoid.

You poured yourself another drink from one of the many bottles that stood shoulder-to-shoulder on your kitchen countertop. “Hey,” a slightly deep voice rung out from behind me. You turned, pressing you back against the counter. “Hi. Where are the others?” You smiled at James. He stood beside you, looking over with a fond grin till his attention turned to the drink selection. “Don’t know. We all split off and now the only one I can find is you.” He poured himself a drink as he replied; vodka with some random mixer he found.

You sipped slowly at your drink—feeling a slight burn slide past your throat—as you watched the on-goers of the party. James turned back from the counter and leaned against it beside you, mimicking your position. The both of you watched as people chattered, drank and slowly swayed to the music. You could feel the buzz from the alcohol taking its time to kick in.

Talk filled the air till it slowly was hushed and replaced by shouting from outside the Castle. With furrowed eyebrows, you looked up to James and he looked down on you with a similar, confused expression. His hand slid into yours as you tugged him along, heading for the door.

Once you reached the soft garden grass, the chilled breeze attacked you in every place your navy dress hadn’t adorned, bringing goosebumps along your arms and legs. There was a crowd circled around the center of the yard. James moved ahead of you, pushing through the crowd and dragging you along till you both reached the front. “Come on, Oliver. Man to man, let’s see who gets her.” Richard was yelling at Oliver, inching forward while the smaller boy crept backwards with each step. Meredith, who you assumed Richard was getting thick over, stood slightly further back in the middle, watching them and screaming at Richard to leave Oliver alone.

Your jaw hung slightly as Richard shoved Oliver who was obviously fidgeting to apologise and attempt to calm Richard down. On impulse, you discarded James’s hand from yours, running over to Richard and pushing him away from Oliver slightly.

“Rich, what the fuck are you doing?” Your tone was harsh and stern—as if you were taking the place of your mother. His gaze turned to you and he snarled, “get out of my way. This has nothing to do with you.” His breath reeked of liquor. “You’re drunk, stop this now, you’ll regret it in the morning.”

A small thwack sounded out; a stinging feeling humming in your cheek and you stumbled back a bit, eyes looking up to glare at Richard. He had slapped you with the back of his hand. He never hit you before and you were left with a shocked expression, not fully realising what he just did.

Your cheek felt strange so you reached your hand up to feel it, being met with a crimson liquid dripping into your fingers. The ring that embellished your brother’s finger had made such impact, it had split your cheek. An iron-like taste lingered on your tongue but you ignored it as Richard wasted no time after the hit.

“You wanna get involved, huh?” The cruelty of his sardonic intonation brought an unease in your chest. A wicked grin was plastered across his face and you knew you weren’t looking at your brother in this moment—more of a dark shadow that cast over him like a dull cloud. “It’s none of your fucking business what I do.” He shoved you again, this time hard enough to make you fall back.

From the corner of your eye, you saw James spring forward towards you as you made impact with the ground, a sharp pain slicing through the back of your calf. Your leg had landed on a jagged rock, carving a narrow cut through your calf.

Two arms hooked under your arms from behind, lifting you up; you looked behind to see who it was, just to be met with James’s soft stare. You stood up on your feet, the cut on your leg throbbing gently. Richard’s gaze burned into you but you avoided it like the plague, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you upset, although you knew he would feel guilty throughout his hangover the next morning. That didn’t mean you had to forgive him.

During this whole encounter, you had completely forgot that there was a crowd around you all watching and your cheeks grew hot as tears pricked your eyes. You crossed your arms over each other. The humiliation kicked in as people watched you walk back inside, James hot on your tail, holding both your forearms and guiding you through the people. The party was now filled with tension and you noticed people starting to leave.

James led you upstairs and you followed him aimlessly. He brought you into the bathroom, lifting you tenderly by the waist to sit on the counter next to the sink. You focused on levelling your breathing but all you could think about was the fact that Richard had actually hit you, and in front of all those strangers too.

“Hey, you okay?” James spoke delicately as he searched through the cabinet beneath you. He pulled out a cloth and a couple bandages and some gauze. “I’m ok.” His careful fingers wrapped around the damaged leg, lifting it up slightly to take a look at the cut. “‘s it okay if I clean this?” His eyes gleamed up at you, waiting for an answer; you just nodded silently.

James moved over to the sink, dampening the cloth with cold water before bringing it to your leg. He carefully cleared the blood from your leg, handling you as if you were porcelain. The wet pat against your calf stung, and you pulled your bottom lip under your teeth, trying to ignore the light sting.

Once he was done cleansing the wound, he moved back to the sink, grabbing the gauze. You turned your head behind you to take a look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was slightly ruffled and your bottom lip graced a red slit, the blood starting to crackle and dry. Unintentionally, you licked your lips to moisturise them and tasted the metallic flavour of blood.

James still stood at the sink and your eyes flickered over to him. He’s gorgeous, you thought, then tried to shake away your thoughts. The awareness of being half-drunk made you convince yourself that you were just being affectionate and flirty with everyone, and James just happened to be the only one in the room.

You ripped your view away from the mirror and looked to the ground tiles. The silence in the room wasn’t tense, and you felt as if you could relax in it. As James came back to stand in front of you, he started to wrap the gauze tightly around your calf and your head fell back against the mirror, eyes closing and lips parting into a sigh.

It didn’t take long for him to bandage the cut. Your eyes flitted open and you were met with him standing infront of you, looking at your face. He steadily brought his hand—which gripped the wet cloth—up to your cheek, smoothly wiping the small gash from Richard’s ring.

His hand lingered, even when the slice was washed out, and your eyes couldn’t tear away from each other. If your legs hadn’t been stretched out from sitting on the counter, forcing him to maintain a distance, you mulled over how far from your face he really would be. The eye contact drew on—aside from the broken moments where you strained from the temptation of looking at his plump lips but failed—, the silence turning to a deafening tension. You hauled your eyes from his, moving your face to glance at your lap and clearing your throat.

“We should get you to bed,” he said. You could hear the stiffness in his voice, as if he was forcing himself to break the silence. “Yeah,” you replied. James wrapped his hands around your waist, lifting you down from the counter. It seemed he was reluctant to let you go, only sliding his hands off when you moved to the door.

The mahogany knob turned and you both stepped out from the bathroom. Your body felt exhausted but your brain still buzzed happily from your previous few drinks. “Do you want me to take you up to the tower?” James’s voice was quiet although there wasn’t anyone in the hall. Oliver and you both stayed up in the tower, while everyone else’s bedrooms were scattered around the Castle.

“‘m too tired to go up there, can I stay with you?” Your question had caught him off guard and you pulled back a smirk upon seeing the strawberry blush hinted across his cheeks. “Yeah . . sure, of course.” He held onto your hand as you headed down the hall to his room. Pushing the door open, James led you inside his room. Your eyes darted around—as if it were your first time in here.

The warmth from his hand faded as he let go and went to sit on the small couch he had in the middle of the room. You followed, taking a seat beside him, maybe too close. You sat, one leg dangling off the couch; the other, bent at the knee and tucked under you. James’s arms were stretched out, resting on the channel back of the sofa.

“Thanks,” you murmured out, looking over into his eyes; they looked blue from afar, but really they were silvery-gray, even with a hint of gold-hazel splatted through them. You could see yourself in the reflection. He didn’t say anything, just gazed back at you with a longing look etched into his features.

James really was beautiful. You’d always known it, just never really had time to dwell on it. But now you felt like you had all the time in the world and couldn’t help keeping your eyes from flickering between his and his lips. It was as if you were contemplating which were more endearing, and right now his lips were in the lead. The heat in your cheeks tingled and you silently wished he couldn’t see your blush in the darkness.

Even if he did register your blush, he didn’t make it known to you. He did, however, seem to notice your quivering gaze. You weren’t sure if you were just imagining it, or if he really was leaning closer, but you subconsciously mirrored him. The tension and silence felt suffocating but all you could focus on was his lips.

The two of you leaned in painstakingly slowly. Your nose brushed his and it tickled you, mouth curling into a slight smile. Eventually after what seemed to be ages, his lips grazed against yours. He didn’t push them to meet yours any further, just letting them skim past as if to tease you, or maybe just to be gentle, you didn’t know.

After that ghost of a kiss—if you could even call it that—you leaned back slightly, noses barely an inch away, and smiled at him softly as he returned the smile. You pushed forward, kissing him again but this time deeper and more controlling. James’s hand drew up to hold your jaw between his fingers. His lips were pleasant and velvety under yours, his touch gentle and caring.

Taking your sweet time, you pushed against him and he to you. His head tilted back a little as the kissing grew passionate and needy. Your lips slot together like a perfect puzzle. You bit his lip gingerly, prodding your tongue at the crease and sliding it across his lips, asking and waiting for access.

Without hesitation, his mouth curved open more and allowed for you to slide your tongue in. They danced together, roaming every inch of each other’s mouths as if searching for missing treasure. Before you knew it, you were throwing your leg across him and straddling his hips, holding him by his chest and pushing him further into the couch with your kisses. His hands fell to your waist, caressing the slope.

Every now and then you’d pull back to catch up on your rapid breathing. The tiredness you’d felt earlier was quick to disperse and allow for the adrenaline of the moment to kick in, leaving a buzzing feeling in your stomach, like butterflies.

Your temptation to grind down on his hips caved and when you did, his mouth parted and he drawled out a low, deep groan. His hands went from resting along your waist to grabbing down on your hips, helping you move against him. Warmth spread throughout and you couldn’t help but smile and continue pressing kisses to his lips.

He moved his head downwards, kissing along your jaw, then suckling on your neck. You gasped as his teeth plucked at the sensitive skin and tilted your head further upwards to grant him a larger canvas. Hips moving against his, your stomach fluttered in the best way possible.

His hands that held onto your hips tightened and held you in place, refraining you from moving any further. You frowned and pulled back from him with a whine. “What’s wrong?” You asked, breaking the silence that had encased the room long ago. James shook his head. “Nothing, nothing,” he assured you. “But we can’t do this right now, you’re drunk.” You smiled, then let out an airy scoff, “I’m barely tipsy, James.” You didn’t want anything other in this moment but him.

Still, you felt the fatigue come back and slowly got off him, sitting down beside him again. Begrudgingly for you, his decision was probably for the best so you just complied. You pressed a kiss to his nose then stood from the couch, making your way to his bed that rested behind the sofa.

“You need some clothes?” James asked, now also standing but making his way towards his drawers. “Yeah, please.” You pealed your dress down, slipping the navy straps from your shoulder as James threw a large shirt over to your direction. You threw it over your head, then slipped on the pair of shorts he gave to you. You crawled under the patterned covers of his bed. Your arms sprawled out above the covers as you waited for him.

Glancing in James’s direction, he still stood at his drawer. He was now wearing loose, green pajama pants. Unaware of your attention being on him, he lifted his shirt up, tugging it over his head and throwing it somewhere random, thinking he’d deal it with tomorrow. Breath hitching, stomach fluttering; you admired his slim but not so toned figure. You stared with no shame, as if it were your first time seeing his bare chest. Sadly for you, he tugged a grey shirt over his head, and you looked away as he approached the bed.

He climbed under the covers beside you and you felt his arm brush up against you. Turning on your side to face him, he was already facing you, seemingly staring at your face. The pale moonlight shone down from the window, illuminating one side of his face. God, he’s so kissable, you thought. Leaning forward in a sluggish, drowsy move, you pressed a chaste kiss against his lips. Moving one hand to rest under his head and cheek, your eyes were still shut when you placed another kiss on the corner of his lips.

Finally, your eyes opened to be met with his metallic ones looking back at you. In that moment you wished you could lay there forever, placing kisses along his angelic features. Had it not been the slight shine of the moonlight, you’d barely be able to make out his flushed cheeks in the dimness of the room.

James opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, then continued. “You’re so beautiful; breathtaking.” His cheek was still cradled against your palm and your fingers curved along it, caressing it gently. You smiled, a breathy laugh coming out along with it. “So are you,” you replied and kissed the tip of his nose.

He shuffled closer to you and you rested your head on his shoulder. A kiss was placed on the skin just behind your ear and you draped one arm across his shoulder, around his neck and let it lie behind his head. A warm but dainty hand crept up your waist, tugging you impossibly closer. And you both lay there, breaths mixing together in the darkness. It wasn’t long before your breathing evened out, and when James noticed that it did, he allowed himself to fall asleep.

#if we were villains #iwwv #james farrow #richard stirling #x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #callum turner #callum turner x reader #fluff #james farrow x reader

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