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chatonne-rousse · 3 years ago

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Be Bold, Be Kind, Be Brave

This is one akuma whose intentions are good. After all, who couldn't use an extra dose of courage to overcome fear?

A superhero whose identity will be immediately revealed in the process, for one.

When an akuma causes several secrets to come to light all at once, our heroes will need to drum up some courage to face their fears - and each other.

But what's waiting after that looks like it might be a dream come true. It'll just take a bit of bravery and a lot of heart. Piece of cake.

***

Only eight days late and several dollars short, I’m wishing @jennagrinsoverml a happy belated birthday with this gift, written just for her. ILY, my friend!

Read it on Ao3 here.

***

Ladybug has to give Courageous some credit: she's a rarity, an akuma born of selfless means. A teenager who hadn't mustered the courage to stand up for a younger student being bullied at school, she'd been so ashamed, so angry with herself, that Hawkmoth had found an easy target to ply with honeyed words and promises.

Her power isn't even a terrible one. The beam of light she shoots from her right hand simply causes the person it strikes to relive the last encounter they had when their bravery failed them, this time with courage aplenty. It's admirable, really.

Admirable, but terrifying nonethless.

(The fear of Chat Noir finding out her identity is deep and dark and often floats to the surface of her nightmares with blue eyes and white hair and a drowned, ruined world. He cannot know. The cost is too high.)

"Whatever you do," she calls to her partner, frantic and scared, "don't let her hit you! Please, Chat!"

She hears the desperation in her own voice, and the look on his face conveys that he certainly does. He nods solemnly.

"I'll do my best, My Lady."

She nods back, and off they go into the fray.

For well over an hour, they fight Courageous through parks and plazas, sidewalks and thoroughfares. All around them, the people of Paris have squared their shoulders, lifted their chins, and braved conversations big and small with people only they could see.

Ladybug has to smile as she hears a young man confidently ask for a raise and watches his eyes light up at the response.

That smile fades when she remembers once again that the last time her courage had failed her was just as they were dismissed for lunch break, when she'd tried to invite Adrien to a movie that weekend. His eyes had been so kind as he'd waited for her to gather her words properly, and somehow that had just made it harder.

Then Lila had "accidentally" tripped and knocked into her, sending her to the floor. The memory of Adrien's hand reaching out to her to help her up, those same kind, patient eyes locked on hers, makes Ladybug's cheeks heat even now. But after she was upright again, after Lila had stalked off because no one seemed to care that she "probably would need surgery now because her arthritis would flare", Nino had reminded Adrien about the gig he was DJing on Friday and Alya had led her away to show her something on her phone.

Just like that, her opportunity was gone.

And that would be fine, honestly. Marinette was used to moments of stuttering and botched declarations when it came to Adrien.

But if she's hit by Courageous, Chat Noir - plus the citizens of Paris, Hawkmoth, everyone - will hear Ladybug try to ask Adrien Agreste on a date, and that will be a disaster of epic proportions.

"Ladybug, look out!"

Chat's body slams into hers, sending them rolling on the sidewalk just as a beam of magical light zips over their heads. In a flash, Chat Noir bundles her in his arms and vaults them to the rooftop above, making sure she's steady on her feet once they land.

"Thank you, Ki-" The words die in her throat when she sees over her partner's shoulder that Courageous has followed them.

Chat turns, his baton at the ready, while Ladybug reaches for her yo-yo, but neither is quick enough to stop the akuma's beam from finally finding one of its main targets.

"I'm sorry, Bug," he murmurs as his eyes glaze over.

Using her yo-yo as a spinning shield, Ladybug drags her partner behind the nearest chimney stack just as he begins to speak.

Panic sets in as her mind screams at her over the hum of her yo-yo, the akuma's laughter, her partner's voice.

I can't just leave him!

"Father, may I come in?"

Oh no, oh no, oh no. I can't hear this!

"Yes, Nathalie said she penciled me into your schedule for noon."

Nathalie?

Ladybug's gaze snaps to her partner, yo-yo still spinning to deflect beams of light. She's surprised to find Chat Noir's head bowed in deference, though his eyes shine with a confident gleam.

"I requested this appointment to ask you again if I could attend the event with my friends tomorrow evening. I've already completed my assignments for school and the homework from my Mandarin tutor."

Mandarin tutor? What?!

"Yes, Father, I'm aware that you don't care for Nino, but..."

The panicked scream in her mind gives up any attempt at coherence; by this point, it's no more than a muddled loop of Nathalie, Mandarin, Nino, Father.

Ladybug feints to the left to avoid being hit by the akuma as a mix of terror and adrenaline floods her system. She leaps forward, leaving Chat behind the chimney in the hope that she can engage the akuma just long enough to get her partner back and finally, finally finish this off.

She knows too much already. The cat has bolted straight out of the bag and is running loose on this rooftop beneath her feet, a distraction she can't handle right now.

On hero autopilot, she hurdles one beam after another, then tucks and rolls and pops up to roundhouse kick Courageous in the chest, sending her flying.

She hears the akuma's "oof" just as Chat Noir's jubilant voice rings out from behind the chimney.

"Thank you, Father! Thank you so much!"

She can hear his grin in those simple words, the sheer joy in being given permission to leave the house. Everyone in their class knows what a tight leash Gabriel Agreste keeps on his son. It breaks her heart every time she thinks of it. In fact, she's successfully fought for his release from that marble prison on more than one occasion! So yes, she'd already known with all the clues in place, but there was truly no mistaking it now: that was Adrien talking to his father.

Because Adrien is Chat Noir.

Her heart cracks. Oh, Chaton.

Suddenly, the akuma's progress in clambering to her feet is impeded by the whoosh and subsequent metallic thunk of Chat's overhand swing with his baton.

Relief floods her heart at the return of her partner. No matter who he is, Chat Noir is her other half, and Ladybug is never quite herself without him.

"Maybe we could use a little extra luck, My Lady!" Chat winks at her over his shoulder before facing the akuma again.

"Yes! Right! You bet!"

Get it together, Marinette, she thinks. Her face heats and she scampers away to the safety of the chimney stack where Chat was hidden to call for her lucky charm.

A red and black spotted can opener drops into her hands and she looks at it in confusion. "What am I supposed to do with this?" she grumbles, looking around frantically but seeing nothing to help her decipher how to use the lucky charm.

She takes a deep breath, peeks out from behind the bricks, and promptly takes a light beam to the face.

No, no, no, no!

It feels vaguely like having a water balloon popped on her head, a chill of sensation dripping down her spine and rippling through her nerves. It's a small mercy that being hit by an akuma rarely hurts physically. Her vision swims like a mirage in the desert, the familiar courtyard at school coalescing from vapor around her.

The last thing she sees is her partner's stricken face.

The last thing she hears is the akuma cackling.

"Heylo! Who! I mean," she takes a deep breath, a rush of confidence tingling along her nerves. "Hey, Adrien!" She smiles and gives him a little wave.

His grin takes her breath away. "Hi, Marinette! How are you?"

"I'm great!"

You can do it, you can do it!, her heart sings, and miraculously, her brain listens. Her smile turns coy. She taps her lip with her index finger. Her pulse pounds a bolstering tattoo in her ears. Go for it, girl!

"But I could be better."

Adrien's smile drops a fraction. "Are you okay? Is there something I can do?"

With another deep breath, she squares her shoulders and looks him in the eyes, her very cells imbued with a courage unparalleled even when she's wearing spots. She could do anything, anything, right now, but she has her mind set on accomplishing one thing and one thing only.

"You could join me for a movie on Saturday."

"I could...?" His brows furrow, but his grin grows slowly, bright but incredulous. "Are you asking me....?" He blinks, takes two shallow breaths. "Do you mean just the two of us?"

She nods decisively. "A date."

You did it. You did it! A veritable party erupts in the back of her mind, radiant relief spreading to her fingertips. It feels so good to finally break through her anxiety and fear and ask him that simple question that felt like an impossible task just a few hours ago.

Thankfully, he doesn't keep her waiting. The answer is in his eyes, anyway. "I would love to," he breathes, cheeks pink and smile dazzling.

"Really?" Marinette squeaks, and now it's his turn to nod.

"I'll be there even if I have to sneak out." Adrien reaches for her hand and gives it a little squeeze. "We'll talk about it later today, okay?"

She nods again, her chest so full of emotion she can barely breathe. Not only did she ask him, but he said yes!

Suddenly, blue sky fills her vision and she regains awareness to the sound of a scuffle on the other side of the chimney stack. Ladybug tentatively gets to her feet, reaching for her yo-yo and setting it spinning immediately. This time there's no peeking around the corner; she bursts from behind the bricks on the offensive, ready to finish the fight.

What she finds is Courageous struggling under Chat's baton, twisted up like a pretzel and unable to move for the steel-toed boot resting across her shoulders.

"Just in time, LB!" Chat crows triumphantly. He tosses her a bracelet emblazoned with the words Be Bold, Be Kind, Be Brave that currently pulses with Hawkmoth's dark energy.

In moments, the bracelet is broken, the akuma is freed and purified, and a confused teenager sits where Courageous was restrained a moment ago.

Chat docks his baton at his back and looks at his partner with the softest eyes she's ever seen, a tiny, equally soft smile playing at his lips.

Her heart sighs. Adrien. That's Adrien, and he knows.

The lucky charm sits heavy in her palm. Abject fear makes her hope against hope that she won't remember his identity when she casts her miraculous cure, just as her heart longs to hold on to the knowledge that her precious partner is the boy of her deepest desires, and maybe, maybe they really can have it all.

With a deep breath, she throws the unused can opener into the air, watching magical ladybugs and healing light burst forth and spread throughout the city. She waits, holding her breath, but when pink light swirls around them, the only affect it has is the healing of the twinge in her ankle from when she fell mid-fight.

She looks up, and her partner's eyes say it all.

He remembers, too.

Even as fear grips her heart, radiant joy shines from his face as his grin spreads. It scrunches his eyes behind the mask and pinkens his cheeks, delight seeming to glow from his pores. Ladybug has never seen her partner so happy. That elation is a balm to her soul, and she can't help but smile right along with him.

Ladybug turns to the akuma victim and holds out her hand, offering the bracelet back to her. "I really like that inscription" she says, pointing at the now-silver bracelet as the girl fixes it back on her wrist.

She smiles shyly at the two heroes. "I wish I had the courage to do more. I wish I was brave like you."

"We get scared sometimes, too. Everyone does," Ladybug starts, before her partner nudges her shoulder with his elbow.

"Speak for yourself, Bugaboo. This cat has no fear." Chat Noir throws her an exaggerated wink, and the girl laughs. "But real talk, anyone can be a hero in their own way. Little things, big stuff...you're stronger than you think, I promise. Cat's honor."

She nods. "Thank you for, you know, saving me and everything." Glancing at the street below, she gestures toward the edge of the roof. "Would it be too much trouble to get me back down there?"

"Not at all," Ladybug replies with a smile. Calling on her own courage, she looks at her partner and takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing, she thinks. "The usual spot in five? Or less, I guess, since it...doesn't matter now," she says with a shrug that she hopes looks nonchalant.

And there's that smile that shines like the summer sun. He gives her a jaunty salute. "I'll be there with bells on," he says, tapping the bell at his throat and making it jingle.

Ladybug just shakes her head and giggles.

A few minutes later, when she lands beside Chat Noir on their familiar rooftop, her earrings are beeping a frantic rhythm, signaling mere seconds before she detransforms. Instinct has her looking around the roof, ready to dart behind anything she can use to hide.

Before she can move, Chat steps toward her and quietly asks, "Marinette?"

Her transformation dissolves in a wave of pink light, and she hears him gasp as she catches Tikki gently in her palms. Marinette takes her time retrieving a macaron from her purse to feed her kwami, deliberately moving slowly in an attempt to get herself under control before she looks up at her partner. He knows, and he's thrilled, and that's amazing, but it feels like the entire world will change when their gazes finally meet, and she's just not ready yet.

"I, um...I didn't use my cataclysm, so I can stay transformed if you'd prefer, but..." he trails off.

There's something in his voice that finally makes her look at him. Just like when he talked to his father under the akuma's control, his head is bowed slightly, but instead of confidence, this time his eyes are bright with nervous hope.

Marinette understands both the nerves and the hope, and she'll joke with her partner until the end of time about who's in charge, but it feels wrong for either Chat or Adrien to look at her with uneasy deference.

And that's what she thinks of as courage wells in her chest. Her brave, steadfast partner, the other half of their unstoppable team, the boy with terrible timing who can still make her laugh, her best friend whom she loves so fiercely, should never feel he has to approach her in fear.

"Oh, Minou," she breathes. "Of course, go ahead. I...I already know."

He nods and stands a little straighter, and with a whisper and a flash of green, Chat's magical leather is replaced with denim and cotton poplin.

Predictably, her brain is short-circuiting, hollering in panic and terror, but even as her heart pounds wildly in her chest, it whispers quietly, gently, that this is her partner. Her silly kitty. Her dearest friend. He just happens to look like Adrien Agreste at the moment.

(Okay, this is going to take some getting used to.)

Tikki flies off to join Plagg nearby, while Marinette sits down on the roof with her knees pulled to her chest. She pats the space to her right and Adrien settles in cross-legged next to her.

He's the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry, Marinette. I shouldn't have gotten hit. I shouldn't have let you get hit. I know this wasn't what you wanted, and-"

"No, no, don't apologize," she interrupts, shaking her head. "It happens. It's...not the first time." Marinette sighs and closes her eyes, suddenly feeling a lot less courageous in the face of this world-bending change now that they're in their civilian clothes and it's Adrien apologizing to her. She presses her forehead to her knees and tries to imagine the boy beside her in magical leather and cat ears. It only helps a little, but it's enough. "We, um-" she pauses, licks her lips. "We have a lot to talk about. I just don't know if I'm ready for...all of it."

Adrien is silent for an uncomfortably long moment. "Yeah. We do." She hears him take a deep breath that shakes a bit on the exhale and turns her head a fraction to peek at him. His eyes are on the distant horizon. "I...think I understand some things now."

Abruptly, he turns toward her, a little smile tilting the corners of his mouth when he his eyes meet hers. Fear tells her to look away, but she tamps it down and holds his gaze. His smile widens.

"May I ask you something, Marinette?"

She nods.

"When you came up to me at lunch today, were you...planning to ask me on a date?"

Her pulse pounds in her ears. She could give in to fear, say no and brush it off like Chat had misheard her when she was under the akuma's spell. But suddenly her heartbeat seems to drum, "be bold, be kind, be brave," over and over again, and just as the smile begins to slip from his face, she finds the nerve to nod again.

Just like on the other rooftop a few minutes ago, his face lights up like the first rays of sun after a week of rain, shining splendid even in the early afternoon light.

"Am I--" he whispers, his breath hitching though his joy never dims, "Am I the boy?"

Be bold, be kind, be brave.

She calls on her Ladybug courage and nods once more.

His breath catches again and his eyes fill with tears that he brushes away quickly.

Clarity dawns all of a sudden, sweeping her fears to the corners of her mind to be dealt with later. She understood Chat Noir being happy to know his partner's identity, his excitement in finding out his Lady was his friend, too. But this is so much more. Beside her sits Adrien, wiping tears of joy from his eyes at the knowledge that Marinette is in love with him. This might just be a dream coming true on a random rooftop on a random Thursday afternoon.

"Chaton," she breathes, stretching her legs in front of her and placing a hand on his knee.

His hand covers hers, and she meets his gaze, words caught in her throat at the intensity in his eyes.

"I have a confession to make." He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand and takes a deep breath. "I think everyone in Paris knows that Chat Noir is in love with Ladybug. I...know you know." He shrugs as his smile turns a little helpless. "But no one knows that I might have a little tiny bit of a huge crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, too."

"Kid, don't lie to your girlfriend. You know very well that I knew, because I've been telling you forever!" Plagg calls from somewhere behind them. Tikki hushes him loudly.

"Okay, he's not wrong," Adrien says, huffing out a combination of a laugh and a sigh. I'm just very stupid, apparently."

"Hey, don't talk that way about my partner." Marinette bumps his shoulder with hers. "I have a teeny, tiny, huge crush on him, too, you know, and I don't appreciate your tone."

Adrien's surprised laugh rings out across the rooftop, filling her heart with so much love she can barely breathe with the force of it. She could listen to that laugh for the rest of her life. She hopes she'll have that chance.

He brushes tears from his eyes again as his laughter subsides, his grin still shining bright. "I'm so happy it's you, Marinette. Beyond happy." He turns her hand beneath his and threads his fingers through hers. "Honestly, there's no one else I would rather have as my partner."

"Me too, Minou," she murmurs, squeezing his hand lightly as incredulous joy sings through her veins.

Tikki's little voice pipes up nearby. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's almost time to go back to class."

Adrien lets go of her hand to fish for his phone and curses under his breath when he sees the time. "She's right, My Lady. Could we meet up this evening? I know we have, um...a lot of things to talk about."

Marinette nods. It feels like she's done a lot of that in the last few minutes.

When Adrien stands, he offers his hand to help her up. Just like in the courtyard at lunch, his eyes are patient and kind, but now they shine with something more. She lets him pull her to her feet, then wraps her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

His soft exhale at her ear as he melts against her makes her smile, scrunching up his white overshirt under her cheek. Her senses are filled with him, and she's surprised to realize that it's a feeling of comfort and safety instead of the usual panic.

Maybe loving Adrien and being loved in return will be easier than it seemed all this time. Her fears seem so silly when his arms are wrapped around her shoulders and his head rests on top of hers - a perfect fit.

Even the nightmarish terror of Chat Blanc is diminished. Adrien never told anyone her identity; he knew because he himself was Chat Noir, and there's no way in the world that Chat would hurt his Lady, nor would Adrien ever harm Marinette on purpose. She must have misunderstood. He must have misunderstood. He was an akuma, after all. She sighs into Adrien's shirt. She can never allow that terrible timeline to occur, but whatever happens after this, they'll face it together. Stronger. She'll make sure of it.

"Do you think my father will let me go to Nino's gig in real life?" he asks quietly.

The sad note in his voice breaks her heart. She squeezes him tighter.

"I don't know, Kitty. Do you think we'll be having a movie date on Saturday?"

He leans back abruptly, though his hands still grip her shoulders. "Of course! I'll be there if I have to sneak out!"

Marinette boops his nose, laughing when his eyes cross. "I think that's your answer for Friday night, too."

Suddenly she's in his arms again, this time lifted off the ground and spinning. She can't help but giggle.

"I knew I was in love with a genius!" he cries, jubilant. He sets her down and plants a kiss in the middle of her forehead before calling for Plagg to transform him.

When he turns his masked face back to her, it's like the world is different. She can easily see the brilliant green of Adrien's eyes in Chat's glowing sclerae. The blending of two of her favorite people into one extraordinary boy who - oh my goodness - just said he loves her gives her a shot of courage even before she suits up again.

"You missed, beau gosse."

His eyes widen comically. "I....what?"

Marinette smiles and calls for her transformation, then taps her lips with her gloved fingers. "You kissed me, but you missed."

The sly gleam in his eyes makes her breathing speed up.

"First of all, I would ask before I did that," Chat says, sticking out his thumb before raising his clawed index finger. "Second, I thought I'd save our first kiss for Saturday. Seems like a great way to end our first date, doesn't it?"

Our first date. A tingle runs down her spine. She likes the sound of that.

"I guess I can wait." Her smile turns cheeky. "But it'll be our third--"

"Ah, ah, ah," Chat cuts her off with a grin. He extends his thumb again. "First of all, I don't remember either of those."

Ladybug rolls her eyes, still smiling.

"And second," he says, his voice pitching lower and making her heart skip a beat, "it will be Marinette and Adrien's first kiss."

Oh, this boy, she thinks as her heart soars.

She bites her lip to keep from giggling. "I suppose you're right, even though we both know we're the same people."

Chat gives her a deadpan look. "Just let me have this, Bug."

She bursts into laughter and reaches for her yo-yo, delighting in watching a grin light her partner's face.

"I really am looking forward to Saturday," he says, unhooking his baton from his back. He reaches for her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "We'll talk about it later today, okay?"

She nods and watches him vault off toward home.

The wind against her face is exhilarating as she swings back to the bakery. It's amazing how one revelation seems to have changed everything. Even the zip of her yo-yo through the air sounds different to her ears now that she knows, now that he knows.

Marinette detransforms as she touches down on the terrace and sinks into her pink-striped chair while Tikki phases through the hatch into her room in search of food. A quick check of her phone tells her that she has ten minutes before she has to go back to school.

School. One more thing that's going to be different.

Before nerves can creep in, she thinks of Chat Noir and his beaming joy at learning the identity of his beloved partner. That was Adrien. She thinks of the comfort of being wrapped in Adrien's arms, his scent, his warmth. That was Chat Noir.

And when she sits down in class behind him in a few short minutes, that boy with the soft smile and shining eyes will look like Adrien, but now he's so much more.

Marinette stands up from her chair with a lighter heart than she can remember having in a long, long time. She's suddenly looking forward to the second half of the day, even more excited for Nino's event tomorrow night, and positively thrilled that she has a date with Adrien - who is Chat Noir! - on Saturday.

There's so much to experience, so many memories to be made. It feels a bit like a dream. It feels more than a bit scary. But it's going to be great.

It's just going to take a little courage.

She's got this.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fan fiction #identity reveal #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #ml fic #ml fanfic #adrienette #my writing #happy birthday jenna!#the real power move is posting this on an episode premiere day #thanks for reading it anyway

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love-archon · 3 years ago

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A Day With The Genshin Characters: Liyue Edition

Today's going to be a busy day! Check your planner for who you'll be meeting with- as one of the esteemed members of the Liyue Qixing, you cannot afford to be late to any appointment.

• 6:00, Ningguang: Morning Tea

Although you say you love your job, waking up at un-archonly hours has to be the part you like the least. Even getting up at five in the morning, the hour when tigers prowl, is still not enough time to prepare for a meeting with the Tianquan. You rush around frantically choosing the best outfit, fragrance, and hair arrangement to present yourself to Lady Ningguang, and you're halfway out the door when it hits you- you forgot to bring a gift with you!

"Right on time," Ningguang says, pleased. You smile, hoping she won't hear your heart beating from anxiety. "And what a lovely present, too... is there any doubt you were appointed as one of the seven Qixing?" (You can't tell if it's her rare praise, or the sheer altitude you're at within the Jade Chamber, that's making your head spin).

• 7:00, Keqing: Business Meeting

You barely have time to rest before Keqing whisks you away to Yuehai Pavilion. You're very close friends, and you admire the girl for her tenacity and diligence. The conversation flows easily as you walk to your destination under a cloudless sky. It's a wonderfully sunny moment, but the moment the doors lock, you mean business. In the next two hours, you conquer matters that would normally take days to resolve, and the two of you exchange grins.

"There we go!" Keqing breathes a sigh of relief, pushing away the last stack of papers. She holds up her hand, and you high-five. "You know, I like how easily you keep up with me. You even caught mistakes I would have missed... things like this make me even more certain Liyue is better off in human hands."

• 9:00: Check In With Ganyu

With such a hectic schedule, Ganyu is your saving grace. It's always important to check in with her, just to make sure nothing you have planned catches you by surprise, and sometimes you wonder why others rarely do the same. She's quite lonely, and often mentions how nice it is that you speak with her every day and bring her gifts to help with work. It may be part of your job to be courteous, but... it does help her feel less lonely and conflicted with herself.

"Qingxin flowers? Thank you so much." She accepts them gratefully, smiling at you with warm eyes. "I still have that new stationery you gave me, too. You're so kind for remembering the things I like!"

• 9:30: Talk to Beidou

The tea in the Jade Chamber was just a front for Ningguang to spring a request on you- meet with the captain of the Crux Fleet to discuss her... recent smuggling habits. But Beidou merely laughs heartily when you arrive. A crewmate tosses her a sack of Mora, and she slits it open, letting the payment shower over you in a spray of gold. And then, before you know what's happening, you're roped into helping them find a treasure rumored to be lost beneath the waves.

"So, Ningguang though sending her star diplomat would get me to let up, huh!" You blush, wondering how you could be so easy to read under her ruby eye. "I was impressed by your words, and how well you fought by my side. But the annoyance of the Liyue Qixing is of no concern to me."

• 12:00, Tartaglia: TEACH HIM A LESSON!

As the member of the Qixing that oversees diplomacy and foreign relations, it's you that must meet with the Fatui Harbinger. He's quite good at playing pretend- all your underlings believed he was a naive, careless young man, and easily manipulated, too. And all of them ended up suppressing the urge to break something after they were done conversing with him. On your honor as one of Liyue's seven stars, you vow to not make their mistakes.

"You're asking why I don't try to drive you mad?" he said, setting down his fork. You'd caved in and given him one after watching him struggle with chopsticks for far too long. "You're the only one who isn't a bore to talk to, that's all-" so this was on purpose?!- "and besides, I want to challenge you to a fight afterwards! Your vision's getting quite dusty from neglect, comrade. Let's fix that!"

• 2:00, Yanfei: Discussion of Legal Matters

Yanfei's counsel is an invaluable treasure. Especially when dealing with an opponent as vicious as Snezhnaya's Fatui, who deserve to have her wrath unleashed upon them. You walk to her office with a gleam in your eyes, and are delighted to see an equal fire already blazing in hers. For the next few hours, you two take the "suggestions" Tartaglia passed on from the Northland Bank and scheme on how to best tear them to shreds with the law.

"That man-childe's been giving you trouble again, huh," she giggles. "What did he come up with this time~? I've been waiting for an excuse to bring out the latest edition of my lawbook!" And with that, Yanfei slams it down, and the sheer weight of it nearly cracks her desk. "He won't know what hit him!"

• 4:00: Free Time

Of course, "free time" simply means that you have no meetings scheduled for this hour, which lets you adequately prepare for the next day's events. Tomorrow is your appointment with the Feiyun Commerce Guild, which you already know will require great patience and strength of mind. Because the head of the guild, and his eldest son, the future head, are- to put it mildly- not very bright... it's fortunate, then, that the second son Xingqiu has a good head on his shoulders.

"Tomorrow, you should go straight to me instead," Xingqiu informs you cheerily, handing you a popsicle. Apparently, he keeps them around for his friend Chongyun, who's off to complete another exorcism. "I'll be sure to set everything in order." His eyes gleam. "And then, I can tell you the latest developments in 'A Legend of Sword'!"

• 5:00: Catch Xinyan's Concert!

Liyue's one and only rock musician isn't hard to find, thanks to the designated performance spots scattered around the city. You stop by at the raised platform where she's rocking out, where other people are listening as well. Xinyan strikes a peace sign in the air, and her vision glows with energy before the stage erupts with pillars of fire; her audience bursts into cheers and applause, and she's beaming as she leaps down to meet you.

"Wait, seriously? You really changed up the rules a lil' so it'll be easier for me to hold concerts here?" Her eyes shine as they scan the papers- one of the many results of your work today in Yuehai. "Thank you so much! Wait-" she picks up her guitar again, giving it an experimental riff. "Let me think up a quick song for ya as thanks- I insist!"

• 6:00: Wangsheng Funeral Parlor

Lately, you've been sent particularly determined requests from the other nations about allowing tourists to observe the ancient funeral rites. You already know the answer's gonna be a hard no, but the laws written by Rex Lapis state that you must check with the director anyway. She's not there when you arrive, so a consultant, Zhongli, brings you tea while you wait for her. You sit together in the fading sun, waiting for Hu Tao's familiar song to rise above the hill.

Zhongli takes a quiet sip from his cup, closing his luminous eyes. "Although it was Rex Lapis who created the laws, they are not meant to be set in stone. Humans must revise the contract as they see fit, so that it will not erode with the passage of time." Something makes you feel as though it's more significant to him than you know. Then, he smiles slightly. "But, just looking at the people leading the way in his absence, like you... there's no need for me to worry."

• 8:00: Dinner; Request Chef Xiangling

The Wanmin Restaurant, run by Chef Mao and his daughter, is a breath of fresh air. While the rest of Liyue is divided between the "Li" and "Yue" styles of cooking, Xiangling pays the conflict no mind. Instead, she's not afraid to be daring and experiment, blazing ahead without worrying about what others think. You can see some similarities between her and Keqing, but it's best not to mention it after that disastrous banquet they organized together...

"Had a rough day, didn't you?" Xiangling asks, her golden eyes twinkling as she hands you the steaming hot bowl. "Well, for you, I made sure to prepare your favorite dish! I hope you don't mind if I added a lizard or two this time- I'm kidding!" she adds quickly, upon seeing alarm flash across your face.

• 9:00: Return Home

After everything that happened, you're eager to collect the reports from your subordinates and head home to draft new revisions for Tianquan Ningguang to look over (and then, hopefully, get some rest). But as you're walking on the path to your neighborhood, you spot a little girl sitting in the grass, clutching her head. Alarm rises in your chest as you rush over to see what's wrong, and why she's alone- only to realize with a start that she's the child that returned from the dead.

"Thank you for taking Qiqi back to Bubu Pharmacy," she says, reading solemnly from her notebook (where the entire thank-you script is written). Even when you set her down, she's still reading the pieces of paper. "Will you tell Dr. Baizhu where I got lost? Please and thank you, again."

• 10:00: Sleep

In the end, you never did get to those revisions. You can hear your fellow Qixing scolding you in your head, but at least you got plenty of other things done; the well-oiled machine that is Liyue will still keep running on thanks to the tasks you accomplished today. Someday, even the adepti will have to acknowledge the ability of humans... you turn in your bed to feel the coolness of the other side. Speaking of adepti... the night air coming in... reminds you of... "Xiao..."

"I thought you were in danger," the adeptus huffs. The moment you said his name, you'd finally fallen asleep, but it still brought Xiao to you- balanced on the windowsill, hair waving in the breeze. "Still... I'm... glad that you're alright," he admits, glancing at you to make sure you're not awake to hear. "Rest well, bright star of Liyue." And then, with a sound like a sigh- or was it the wind?- he's gone.

#genshin imagines #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #ningguang x reader #beidou x reader #xiao x reader #genshin scenarios

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moonlightlullaby · 3 years ago

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no celebrations?

summary: Corpse and reader celebrate his birthday in the most chill way. Based on this lovely request (ty again for sending it!)

pairing: corpse husband x gn! reader

category: fluff

warnings: food ingestion; alcohol ingestion; loads of physical touch (let me know if I forgot to mention anything)

A/N: Hello (: This is such a lovely concept, I just couldn’t wait to get started hehe Also, I got a bit carried away and just went with it, so I’m really sorry if that’s not what you’d pictured. I do hope you enjoy it tho <3 Take care!

word count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Walking into our shared bedroom, I catch the sight of Corpse exiting the bathroom. As our eyes lock, my lips curl up tiredly and a long sigh I didn’t even know I’ve been holding finally frees itself. He sits on the edge of our bed and extends his hand to me. When I take it, he pulls me so I stand in the space between his legs.

“How was the day?” he asks with both of his hands on my waist.

I hum, quirking a brow and tilting my head a bit “At least tomorrow - you know, the most unspecial, completely ordinary day of the year -” this earns a giggle from my boyfriend “is Sunday and I can just ignore all of that” I wave my hand in the direction of the adjacent room, where my laptop - filled with texts, assignments, spreadsheets and appointed Zoom calls - is.

At my words, Corpse wraps his arms around my figure, pulls my body even closer to him and plants a kiss on my stomach through my shirt. My hands, in turn, caress his upper back and soft hair.

Coming in contact with the string of his eyepatch in the process, I lean back slightly, which causes him to shoot up at me with a small frown and pouty lips. He sits still, though, as I carefully remove his eyepatch, and, while his eyes are still closed, I give each of his lids a peck. He smiles and tilts his head up to meet my lips in a long, tender and effortless kiss. Oh finally.

The idea of quarantining together was welcomed as a blessing by both of us. It meant more time spent together after all. However, with my school and work demands and Corpse’s irregular schedule, we still barely see each other throughout the day in spite of being a few feet apart from one another. And when bedtime rolls in, we’re both so exhausted all we can do is mumble words that could be counted in the fingers of one hand before drifting off. This, of course, when my boyfriend doesn’t stay up until dawn working. Don’t get me wrong, I’m his number 1 fan and admire his passion and all the hard work he puts in everything he sets his mind to, but I’m also not going to lie and say I don’t miss his warmth at night. Hence I want to devote this Sunday to him.

After a while, I break the silence “I’ll be right back.”

I let go of his hold and take my turn to use the bathroom. After doing my night routine, brushing my teeth and getting into my cozy pajamas, I walk back in the dark room and lie down, settling myself back in Corpse’s hug like two puzzle pieces matching together.

~~~~~

The excitement for a new day - not any day, no, but August 8th - washes over me as soon as I open my eyes and get a glimpse of the sleepy boy next to me.

A couple of minutes go by as I contemplate on getting up, torn between prolonging our cuddling for some more and doing something to show Corpse my appreciation for him. The latter wins and I, cautious not to wake him up, slowly unwrap my arms from him and step out of the bed. Drawing the curtains to make sure the summer daylight doesn’t disturb his peaceful state of mind, I make my way out of the room and to the kitchen.

Wondering what to make for breakfast, I take a good look around until my eyes catch the plethora of fruits we’ve bought a few days ago. Fruit salad it is.

Corpse has, for as long as we’ve known each other, made it very clear he isn’t too fond of his anniversary and similar celebrations - and, even if he hadn’t explained it to me, it’s rather evident how uncomfortable they make him. This year, his friends’ and especially his fans’ hype for the date - although unintentionally - has added an extra layer of unease to it all, to which I don’t intend to contribute.

Even though I don’t want to make matters worse and would never overstep his boundaries like this (because, thankfully, I’m not Betty Cooper and he isn’t Jughead Jones), I still want to celebrate Corpse. I want to celebrate his birth and his existence, which I’m immensely grateful for. He’s both the best friend I can confide in blindly and the lover I want to share my lifetime with. He sticks to his truth and dreams higher than I could ever imagine. He turns the darkness in the world and in his mind into light with his words and with his laugh. Having him in my life is one of the best things to ever happen to me and seeing him fly makes me more proud than I can put into words.

There’s a lot to toast to, so the solution is a celebration that is so smooth and so chill - the smoothest and most chill possible - that it doesn’t even feel like one. Just log off and enjoy a laid back day together.

As I chop a kiwi and make a mental list of fun and uncomplicated things we can do that don’t require much time and many skills, in walks Corpse, in an old white tee which is one too many sizes bigger than him and in his black sweatpants. He rubs his eyes and lets a raspy “good morning”.

“Mornin- wow! They really weren’t lying when they said when you hit 24, hotness knocks at your door”

He chuckles and shakes his head “No one’s said that”

“Well, then consider yourself the muse of a new proverb, baby”

He scrunches up his nose in response before grabbing the cup of orange juice I’d placed on the counter and taking a gulp.

“Thank you” he turns my face and gives me an orange-flavoured kiss, neither of us having ever really cared about morning breath.

“For calling you hot? Oh save it to when I’m done with the list of cheesy compliments I have for you” I take a grape and before I can get it in my mouth, he steals it, with wrinkles on the corner of his eyes.

“Then we’d be here for eternity!” he’s not wrong.

Corpse helps me put the fresh fruits in bowls and, with them and our juice cup in hand, we head to the balcony. Sitting next to each other, we calmly eat, take in the light blue sky and the cars and passersby changing the scenery ahead of us. Conversation flows naturally.

As we empty our bowls - after stealing many bits from each other -, I twist in my seat and face him “Hey, Corpse, do you see this?” I point to the very prominent and familiar dark circles under my eyes. “Wanna help me get rid of them?” I ask, knowing damn well it’d take a lifetime for them to actually go away and not giving up regardless.

~~~~~

The bathroom is filled with chatter and laughter and the sink, with hair clips, scrunchies, a sharpie, bowls, hair products and a towel. Corpse hisses as our cool homemade face mask comes in contact with his skin. His curly hair is pushed back and held by a blue hairband and I apply the mask to his face, making sure not to leave any spots uncovered. Well, that’s what I’m trying to do, which becomes an unnecessarily challenging task when my lovely partner can’t be still for more than two seconds.

He kept switching between dancing to Soulmate, by Mac Miller, and mouthing its lyrics. Now that I got him - after a small threat that I wouldn’t hesitate putting this weird mix we made in his pretty mouth - to keep his lips together, the (adorable, admittedly) swaying, however, continues. He stops momentarily, only to shuffle things around right after.

Something cold touches my skin, making it my turn to let out a hiss this time. The sound is accompanied by a small jump, caused by the surprise. Corpse chuckles and, when I glance at the spot on my arm the cold thing came in contact with, I realize it’s just the sharpie. All he does is give me a mischievous smile.

While I keep massaging his face and covering it with the mask, Corpse litters my body with his drawings. Smiley faces, lightning bolts, hearts, clouds... his repertoire is vast and any exposed skin he can find becomes his canvas. Each line causing me to giggle and shudder a little. With him focused on his creations, it’s 10 times easier for me to complete my task.

“Alright, my turn” he states, smiling, and I’m quick to grab the sharpie.

As he adjusts a matching hairband on my head, I put a dainty heart on his neck. And, as he takes the bowl in his hands, I swiftly plant a kiss on top of the drawing. At this, he sighs in content and my chest gets warmer.

I soon understand how hard it was for him to stay still as Stay comes on and all I want to do is have a little karaoke session and dance. Corpse entertains himself with my struggle and, because it’s his birthday, I’ll let it slide. So, to make the whole process easier, instead of focusing on the song, I focus on the gorgeous face in front of me. A beautiful face to a beautiful soul.

One of the various perks of sharing an apartment with Corpse is I get to see this face in all ways: sleepy, completely clean - no makeup, no mask -, all wrinkled in the morning, red when he’s embarrassed or when he laughs too hard… His laughter. Its sound pulls me from my trance “You’re staring, y/n”

“Well, at least I wasn’t moving around, Corpse” I reply with squinted eyes and nudge his side playfully.

We begin collecting the things scattered across the sink and storing them in the cabinet, and the song comes to an end, giving way to Dang!

“How long do we keep these on?”

I hum at the question and check the playlist on shuffle on my phone “How does 5 minutes and 2 seconds sound?”

Facing him, his grin mirrors mine and he spins me around. We laugh and allow ourselves to be as goofy as possible, jamming and moving our limbs around with a green paste on our faces.

~~~~~

After washing off the masks in the shower and painting our nails - so we’re both rocking the black nail polish look -, we’ve set our minds to - finally - finish the puzzle we started two months ago. It’s a 90’s anime setting inspired composition and we’d gotten about 40% of it done before our schedules got more hectic and the game, well, pushed aside. For weeks, the pieces sat on the ground of our living room and silently judged us every time either of us stepped to the side, as we crossed the room, in order not to crush them.

Sitting around the puzzle with comfy clothes, we team up against it and indulge in the wine Corpse’s got us and the hawaiian pizza I’ve ordered.

As the picture comes more and more to life, moments of comfortable silence and of chattery - when we talk about anything from our shopping list and gossip about our neighbours’ lives to parallel universes and the matrix - follow one another. A different playlist on shuffle is our background noise.

Time flies and the sun’s already hidden when it clicks to us that there are only 5 pieces left. Each piece is fitted in the whole with a giddier feeling than the previous. Corpse picks the last one - deep blue with purple and black specks - and turns to me with an excited smile and an eager gaze that I’m sure are mirrored on my face. I nod encouragingly. He places it in the puzzle and celebratory sounds fill the room.

Corpse stretches his arms and pulls me in a hug, but, since we’re both kneeling and because of the distance between us, we end up falling and lying on the ground in rather uncomfortable positions.

“Come on, puzzle, that was easy breezy! Gotta step up your game if you really wanna challenge this duo right here!”

“Oh for sure!” Corpse squeaks as we laugh at our nonsensical brag.

After a moment while we catch our breath, he rubs my back and speaks, pulling my attention to him “Not that I’m not loving this position, but what if we watched some Drag Race?”

Is this man real? If I couldn’t feel his heart beating under me or his arms around my figure, I’d be sure he’s just a figment of my imagination. “But it’s your b- don’t you wanna choose something you like more? Li-”

“Nope,” he boops my nose “Drag Race, or maybe Love Island, would be great right now.” And people still dare say the perfect man doesn’t exist!

“You’re such a dream!” I give him a quick peck before continuing “Ok, so I put on the show and you get more wine…?” He hums in approval and stands up. Our eyes briefly jump from each other to the puzzle and back to each other, then we simply nod. A silent agreement to leave the puzzle here. We’re both too lazy to put all the pieces back in the box and too proud of our achievement to let it go just yet; besides, everything’s been sitting here for about two months, what are a few more hours?

He steps to the side, gets our glasses and makes his way to the kitchen. I lie on the couch and scan Netflix for Drag Race. Corpse comes back, placing the glasses next to the couch, and gently lies down on top of me. He nests his head on my chest and we both hum contently.

While RuPaul announces what the winner’s prize will be, I play with his hair, letting my fingers knead his curls. His right hand flies up to meet mine and I bring our intertwined hands to my lips, peppering his knuckles with kisses. The gesture is cut by a loud laugh that escapes my lips as miss Vanjie Mateo’s iconic moment replays on the screen.

“Hey,” Corpse’s voice makes me look right back at him “I love you. You know that, right?”

My heart melts at his words and at the way he’s looking at me right now. I nod with a smile.

“I love you too, birthday boy.”

#corpse husband imagine #corpse imagine #corpse x y/n

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gotnofucks · 4 years ago

Text

Golden Cage

Pairing: soft!dark!Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: You asked Andy to take your case and he asked for you to give yourself to him as payment. (18+ ONLY!!)

Words: 6.3k (lmao sorry)

WARNINGS: dub con, blackmail, coercion, possessive behavior, bad smut, slight angst. SPOILERS FOR DEFENDING JACOB!

A/N: Kinda blurred boundaries here.

MASTERLIST

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

You needed more concealer or the only way you’d be going out in public would be with turtlenecks. Andy loved to leave marks on your neck and the rest of the body, and he hated you covering them up. The moment you would come back, the first thing he does is drag you to the bathroom to wipe the makeup off and bare your bruises to his eyes. They were marks of his ownership over you, and they reminded you both of the truth: You belonged to him.

Your life took a turn nearly a year ago when your brother was accused of third-degree murder of his colleague. The case was pretty much a public trial and the scandal rocked your world. Not only did your brother get arrested, but you lost your job too by means of association. You knew your brother was innocent, he would never hurt a fly let alone a human being. But try as you might, you couldn’t get a lawyer to represent him. That’s when Andrew Barber stepped into your life.

Having left prosecution and taking up defense cases, Andy and you met in the police station where you had gone for some information. You were filling a form talking to an aid, the only one who seemed to sympathize with you when Andy walked in. The lady had pointed at him and said, “If anyone could have won a case like yours, it would be him. As an ADA, Andrew Barber never lost a case and he carried that record as a defense lawyer too. But he’s very selective in his cases and well…expensive too”.

You had looked up and followed her gaze and words, a tiny spark of hope lighting in you. After you had hastily filled your form, you waited outside the station hoping you could catch Andy leaving and plead your case to him. When he came out, you waited until he reached his car to approach him.

“Excuse me, Mr. Barber?”, You said, twisting your fingers in the hem of your shirt. He turned to look at you in question.

“Yes?”

“Uh, my name is Y/n Y/l/n.” You said and Andy’s eye flashed with recognition of your last name.

“How can I help you Miss Y/l/n?” His voice had a tinge of pity because he knew what you were going through. He’d been through it himself and lost everything in that battle.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of my brother’s case Mr. Barber. I need all the help I can get. He’s innocent. I know he is innocent! Would you please help me?” You were ready to leave your dignity and kneel in front of him if you had to. Your brother was your whole world and you were ready to sacrifice everything for him.

Andy sighed. He looked at you silently before reaching into his pocket and handing you his card.

“Make an appointment for tomorrow, okay? I’ll see what I can do, but no promises. Bring all the files you have on the case and anything else that you think might be of help.”

You’d arrived at the appointment ladened with a huge box of papers. You were surprised when you were told to meet Andy at his house and not his office, but you saw no reason to complain. His house was huge and cozy, but recent changes were visible. Empty bolts on the wall showed recently removed pictures and you quickly recalled the story about the Barber’s scandal you’d read on the net last night. It was a nasty business and you knew deep in your bones that Andy could help you and your brother because he had personal experience with something like this.

“Would you like a drink?”, Andy asked you, taking a seat across from you in his kitchen.

“Just some water please”, You answered, nervously looking at him. He had forgone his business formal inside his home and was wearing a button up with dark jeans. He handed you a glass of water and then motioned to the files in front of you.

“May I?” He asked and you nodded, sliding them over to him and sipped your water.

Andy looked over the papers for quite a long time, his brow furrows. He took out a small notepad and scribbled something on it between his reading, one finger tracing his beard. You looked at him anxiously, trying to decipher his reaction. If you could convince him to take the case, then all hope was not lost for your brother.

After going home last night you had read everything you could about Andrew Barber, and pity had swelled in your heart for him like an ocean. This brave man had lost more than his good name in the society. His ex-wife Laurie was in prison in the attempted murder of their 15-year-old son Jacob, who was still recovering from the injuries inflicted to him by his mother. How Andy could still manage a normal life with work was a wonder. He was only in his 30s to have gone through something so traumatic and you hoped that once this case was over, you could rise from the ashes like him.

After taking a good look at the papers, Andy finally put them down and leaned back on his chair, folding his arms against his chest. You looked at him nervously, chewing on your lip as you waited for him to speak. His gaze lingered for a moment on your lips before meeting your eyes.

“May I please call you Y/n?” He asked and you nodded. “Y/n, I wouldn’t say that this is an easy case. You know it isn’t. Evidence is heavily stacked against your brother.”

“But?”

“But it’s not completely hopeless either. There are loopholes, a lot of them in fact. A lot of evidence is mostly circumstantial, and if we can find some experts to recreate the murder scene digitally, we might be able to prove that your brother is innocent. The stab wound is near the heart, a difficult place to lodge the knife in since you need to get through the rib cage. The murder weapon was quite deep inside the body, meaning a lot of force has been used. I’ve seen your brother’s pictures and just read his reports.” Andy smiled a little. “He certainly doesn’t look like someone strong enough to make this kill wound, especially since there are signs of struggle which would make it even more difficult.”

You looked at him with your mouth parted, eyes wide and hoping. Your heart was beating widely in your chest and you wet your lips before speaking.

“So, there is a chance he will get off?”, You asked.

“I think if we play the right strategy and work things out, there is a chance he might get off.”

You almost lunged across the table and hugged the man. Unbidden, tears stinged your eyes and you sniffled, trying to keep them from rolling down your cheeks. Andy got up and walked around to your side before handing you a tissue. You dabbed your eyes and looked at him with gratitude in your eyes.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”, you sobbed. He patted your back until you calmed down and then sat down beside you. It was only then that another thought hit you. Lawyers like Andy Barber didn’t come cheap. You were so focused on helping your brother you had no idea how you’d pay what you were sure would be thousands of dollars to him.

“Mr. Barber, about the-” You started to say but he cut you off by raising a hand.

“Call me Andy, we’ll be spending lot of time together solving this one. And about payment, don’t worry. I know how difficult a position you are in right now. We can talk money later, after things are a little more sorted.” His words were soft, and you immediately protested.

“I can’t do that. I can’t take advantage of your kindness like that. I’ll write you a cheque, though the next one may take a while. Please, I’ll get the money.” Now that there was a chance to get your brother out, you’ll do anything. You’ll take another job, sell your crappy apartment and car too if you had to. Anything to get your baby brother back under your roof, safe and sound.

“Please Y/n, I insist. We can talk payments later. Right now, we should focus on your brother.” You looked at Andy and murmured a small thanks and he asked you what you’d like for lunch so you can discuss the case over it.

And so, it went. Almost every day after work, you sped down to Andy’s house straight and talked over the case. The scheduled visit with your brother went well and Andy was sure the experts he had hired could give conclusive evidence to how your brother’s body type didn’t match that of the murderer. Over the next few weeks, you became consumed in this battle for justice, and every second of the day you thanked your lucky stars for Andy who became your rock. He always knew just the right thing to say, and more often he was like a friend who heard you out. When things got too difficult and you felt like you were being crushed under the pressure, he would comfort you by ways of a hot mug of coco.

The case progressed smoothly and by the time Andy made the closing arguments, you were sure your brother will be coming home with you. Everyone was right, Andrew Barber was a court room wizard and you saw him in action. The night that your brother came back, you invited Andy and Jacob to dinner. You saw Jacob frequently when you were at the Barber’s and you got along with him nicely. It hurt you to know that a boy so young had to deal with so much in his life, but he still smiled and went on with his life.

Throughout the dinner, your brother thanked Andy incessantly, almost bowing down. There was laughter under your roof the likes of which you didn’t know would ever come back. After eating, your brother and Jacob departed to play some video games and you held Andy back.

“Can we talk?”, you asked him and motioned him away from the living room to the small room you used as a study. He nodded and followed you, closing the door behind you.

“Everything okay?” He asked

“Andy, I can’t thank you enough for what you have done for me. You’ve been so kind and nice to me I feel completely indebted to you. I know you’ve been skirting around the money issue, but please, you need to let me pay you.” It was true. Anytime you brought up the topic of his payment he had changed the subject. You thought it had to do with the fact that your relationship was more than just attorney-client and more like friends and it made him uncomfortable to take money from you.

“I don’t want your money, Y/n”, Andy said firmly.

“Why the hell not? I don’t want your charity Andy. You’re my friend, and you helped me get back everything I thought I would lose. I don’t think I can ever repay you for your kindness, and money is the least I can do. Please”

Andy looked at you for moment before moving to stand right in front of you.

“I don’t want your money.” He repeated. “But you can repay me a different way.”

You looked at him speechlessly, not following. He raised a hand and gently moved a strand of your hair behind your ears.

“Andy…” You whispered.

“I don’t want your money. I want you.” He said and placed his hands on your waist, bringing you closer. Your heart beat a furious rhythm against your chest, and you forgot how to breath for a moment.

“I – what? I don’t understand” You said, trying to move away from him but he would let up. His hands tightened around you and kept you in place.

“I want you. I want you to be mine.” He said and your eyes widened. You pushed against his chest, needing to create some distance between you. You had not seen this coming. Never had you felt any untoward advances from him, he never touched you wrong. Hell, he didn’t even hug you for an unnecessary amount of time. Your relationship was the very definition of platonic. At least, that’s what you thought.

“Andy, what’s wrong with you. I thought we were friends. Please, let me go.” You said and surprisingly he released you and walked back a couple steps.

“We are friends, but I want more than that. I have wanted that for months, but I didn’t say because you had enough on your plate. I don’t want you going back to your house at night when you visit me. I want you under my roof, inside my bed and under me. Look how good you’re with Jacob too. We will be great together.”

You gaped at him and stumbled to a chair and sat down.

“I will not be your personal whore, Andy Barber!” You sneered at him and he started, shaking his head. He came and knelt before your feet, taking your hands in his.

“That’s not what I said at all. I would never do that to you.” He vehemently disagreed. “I want someone to love and cherish, I want a family. I know you can give it to me.”

You tried to jerk your hands out of his, but he held them fast.

“I’m sorry about how this is going. I wasn’t planning on talking about this tonight. But you forced my hand. I want you Y/n, and I will have you. Even if I had asked you out, I know you would have said no because you want to work and provide for your brother. Isn’t that true?” He asked.

He was right. You didn’t plan on dating anyone, anytime soon. You had to focus on your career and there was no place for a man in your life no matter how nice he was.

“You said I gave you back your life. You said you want to repay me. This is what I want. You.” He pressed a kiss on your hands and looked intently in your eyes.

“And what if that’s something I don’t want?” You asked.

Andy’s eyes darkened and he glared at you. He had spent months working tirelessly on your brother’s case and been nothing but a gentleman. He didn’t see any reason why you shouldn’t want him.

“In that case, I’ll make you want me.” He said. “I will never do anything to hurt you, trust me. But I can create situations where the only person who can help you will be me. You’ll run right back into my arms. I – I don’t want to do anything bad. I just want you. Be mine.”

He didn’t say it explicitly, but you got his meaning loud and clear. He’s an influential person, he could do any number of things to force your hand. He had been kind to you till now, but if you gave him reason to be cruel, he will be. This man could very well take away everything he gave you and you both knew that.

Later that night after Andy and Jacob left, you told your brother you want to move in with Andy. He was shocked by the suddenness of the news and you fed him some cock and bull story about falling for each other during the trial and not wanting to keep it a secret now that he was out of prison. Your brother was happy for you, telling you that he’s glad you’ve found someone like Andy who would always protect you. You agreed, Andy would always protect you from the world. But there was no one who could protect you from him.

A week later you moved into Andy’s house. Jacob greeted you at the door and took your stuff inside, apologizing that he couldn’t stay long as he’s spending the weekend at a friend’s. Your heart sank at the thought of being alone with Andy for the next two days. You hadn’t spoken much since he all but forced you to into living with him. You saw Andy in the kitchen, setting up the table and wiping the counters. He painted an utterly domestic figure, walking barefoot in his sweats and T-shirt. Seeing you arrive he smiled and moved closer to kiss your cheek and hug you.

“Welcome home, sweetheart”, He whispered in your ear, holding you close and pressing his forehead to yours. Your hands lay limp at your side and you tried to give a small smile and not push back. You heard an awkward cough from behind you and realized Jacob was fake gagging and giving his father a cheeky grin.

“Can you two like, not do this when I’m here?”, He teased and earned a playful swat from his father.

“You get out of here and don’t cause too much trouble.”, Andy said, and Jacob gave a thumbs up and wink to you both and hurried out. You heard the door shut and your hands became sweaty now that you were alone with Andy after a week. No sooner had Jacob departed that Andy’s hands cupped your face and he pressed a searing kiss on your lips. He put a hand behind your head and coaxed your mouth open, deepening the kiss and moaning. You put your hands around his wrists, closing your eyes.

“Come on, kiss me back like a good honey.” Andy said and you forced yourself to respond. His kisses were like molten fire, all passion and heat that lay over you like a warm blanket. Pulling away, Andy kissed your forehead and eyelids and then just looked at you. His eyes were blown wide and dark, his lips red and moist. You gulped as he kept his eyes on you, drinking in your sight in his arms. He hadn’t touched you that night at your place. Didn’t even kiss you. But now that you were here all alone with him, under his roof…you suppressed a shudder.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here. Come, dinner’s ready.” He led you over to the table and pulled out a chair for you. He sat beside you and filled your plate with your favorite dishes. You thanked him, eating quietly, and wondering what would happen to you tonight. Going by the way Andy’s hand was creeping up on your thigh, you knew you were in for a long night. Andy talked throughout dinner about his day and cranky clients. He shared things like a husband would to his wife and you resisted the urge to bolt out of his house. You made small noises of acknowledgment, too nervous to actually speak. There was much you wanted to ask about how things will progress from now.

“I’ve emptied one side of the closet. You can unpack tomorrow and then we can go shopping for whatever else you might need. We’ll ask Jake to click some pictures to hang around too. The walls are so bare now. Maybe a family portrait in the hall above?”

Your fork clattered to your plate as you heard him talk and you stared at him in disbelief. You’d been hear barely an hour and he was planning your life in a way that gave you chills. With every word he spoke, every plan he had, you felt like he added another bar to your prison.

“Andy, I think I should stay in another room.”, You said softly, and Andy frowned.

“Like hell you’ll stay in another room. You’ll stay with me, sleep in my bed right in my arms. You’re mine now, I think I made it very clear?”

You bit your lip and nervously played with your fingers, trying not to anger him.

“What about Jacob? Would he like it, me staying in your room? I mean, his mother lived there not too long ago and...” You stopped when Andy grabbed your chin and turned your head to meet his eyes.

“You just saw Jake. Did you see any hesitance in him when he welcomed you in? I’d already spoken to him anyway. He has no love for the woman who almost pushed him through death’s door. He likes you and he’s happy for me.”

You nodded and finished the rest of your dinner in silence. You offered to do the dishes, but Andy asked you to relax and see about the place while he tidied up. You wandered up the stairs, a part of house you had not been to before. You opened the first door on the left and found a messy room with a big screen and video games. Closing the door, you ventured forward and opened the door towards the end. This would most probably be your room. The bed was huge, and you moved inside to explore. There was an attached bathroom and a massive walk in closet where you could see Andy had cleared space for you. You sat on the bed and opened the first drawer in the bedside cabinet, finding medicine and phone charger. Opening the second, you found it scattered with stationary and other bits and bots. However, what caught your eye was the box of condom tucked in the back. You took it out and gulped in fear.

“I didn’t think you’d want a baby just right now.”, Andy said from the doorway, startling you. You turned to him and set the box down, moving backward subconsciously as he came towards you and shut the door behind him. He stood in front of you and cupped your jaw, stroking gently.

“You’re so beautiful, every time I look at you my heart stops.”, He whispered, then he bent down and kissed you deeply, his tongue in your mouth and hands roaming your sides. You gasped, your own hands fisting his t-shirt. Holding you around the waist, Andy pushed you back in the middle of the bed, climbing over you and starting to unbutton your shirt. You quickly held his hands, trembling slightly. He looked at you with that dark look in his eyes and you slowly retracted your hands and allowed him to strip you of your shirt. He sucked in a breath, pure worship in his eyes as he took in your shirtless body and reached behind you to unclasp your bra. His hands glided over your collarbones and breasts, gentle in their exploring and squeezed. You moaned despite yourself. You didn’t expect him to be this good to you. You thought he would ravish you like an animal in heat.

Andy kissed you then, one hand on your hip, the other beside your head holding his weight. You responded without really meaning to, getting lost in the heat of him. His smell smothered you until you could taste it on your tongue, and you let out a groan of pure satisfaction as he sucked a hickey into the juncture of your neck. Leaving a searing line of fire with his lips, he whispered in your ear.

“I will bath your body with my tongue until I own each and every part of you. I will mark you as mine and claim you completely. When this night is over, you will crave me with a frenzy that only my touch can quench. I’ll not just make you want me; I’ll make you thirst for me. You’ll beg me to touch you, to mark you and to fill you up.”

His words were a promise and you clenched your thighs in anticipation. That night, he proceeded to take you as his. His laved your body with his tongue, suckling, biting, and leaving marks. Your nipples were wet and sore from his attention, your core drenched and dripping. He made you cum first with his mouth, slurping on you, making you tremble and shout. Then he stretched you around his fingers, moaning dirty fantasies into your mouth while you shook under him. You remember him impaling you on his cock, remember feeling every vein of him even through the condom, you felt him stretching you wider than ever before and you cuming hard enough to see stars. He claimed your body in ways you didn’t think was possible, and you woke up the next day with bruises on parts you didn’t even know could bruise.

Your life with Andy was not unpleasant as such, but it was a golden cage. He got you what you wanted, he never stopped you from working or force you into something you didn’t want to do. You told him you didn’t want to try anal sex and he never pushed for it. You told him you missed your study and he converted a room into a library for you. In all aspects, he was the dream guy any woman could want. Only, you never had the option to make this choice. It was thrust upon you and you had to live it no matter what.

The only thing Andy insisted on was your loyalty and time. He told you in no uncertain terms that if he so much as smelled another man’s cologne on you, he’ll tie you up and edge you until you remembered who you belonged to. You didn’t think he was serious until one night Andy lost his cool after watching you hug a colleague who dropped you home. You ended up tied spread eagle on the bed, crying tears of frustration as he edged you with his mouth and a vibrator for hours. It wasn’t until you sobbed out, “I’m yours!” that he let you cum. The other thing he wanted was your time. He never interrupted your work, but if you’re home, he is the only thing that should be on your mind. He kept you close, always an arm on your waist or you in his lap. His possessiveness knew no bounds and Jacob often joked that he’d need a sawing machine to separate you.

You couldn’t say you hated Andy because you didn’t. Even when he had first forced you into a relationship, you didn’t hate him. He’d been a good friend to you and a great support. He had done too much for you to ever hate him, as you were reminded every time you saw your brother. But you couldn’t say you loved him either. The very fact that if you had a choice you wouldn’t be here gnawed at you. While you laughed with Andy when you saw movies or sighed in pleasure when he put those hands on you, you couldn’t bring yourself to love him. You cared for him, you loved to wake up with his face between your thighs or with your face between his. You loved it when you sat as a family to play scrabble and you and Jake teamed up to beat Andy. You loved it when he tickled you into submission or when you gave him a massage after a tough day at work. But you didn’t love him.

So, it was with trepidation that you looked at the ring you found in his underwear drawer. Settled into a small velvet box, it was a silver band with diamonds lining it. Your hand shook slightly, wondering what you’ll do once he asks you the question you’d been dreading for months now. Did you even have the choice to say no? Did you want to say no? You put the box back where you’d found it and went through your day acting like nothing happened. The next few days you lived in anticipation, wondering every time Andy went into the closet if this would be it. But the ring stayed where it was and with each passing day you became as annoyed as you became relieved.

“Come here, sweetheart”, he said to you one night, holding out his hand and pulling you in his lap on the bed. You snuggled against his chest, you head on his shoulder and arms around him. He stroked your back, placing a kiss on your head as he rocked you slowly.

“Do you want to go back to your brother’s house?” He asked softly and you pulled away to look at him with puzzled eyes.

“What?”

“If you want, you can go back to living with him.”

Your heart started pounding in your chest, breath coming out in stuttered gasps. You didn’t know why but tears filled your eyes as you looked at him in utter disbelief.

“You want me to go away?” Your voice was small, broken like that of a kicked puppy. Andy pulled you tight into himself, holding you close while he cooed at you and shushed.

“No, no baby. I never want you to go away. I just feel like you want to go away.” He said and you buried your head in his neck, not understanding why you weren’t leaping across the room and packing your stuff. This is what you always wanted, your freedom. And now when it was being put on a platter for you, you clung to your prison and your captor.

“I – I don’t know what I want”, you sobbed helplessly, and Andy held you as you cried. He patted your head and pulled your face up to look into your eyes.

“While I am deranged enough to keep you with me like this, even I won’t force you into a marriage. I know you saw the ring, and I know you’ve been withdrawn ever since. I love you, more than anything in the world. You know that, and I’m pretty sure everyone who sees us knows that. Which is exactly why I am willing to set you free. I may be a bad person, but I won’t be a monster. I am giving you the choice you have always wanted. You can go if you want, I won’t stop you. I will not hold anything over you. I want you to be happy, and if that is away from here, away from me, so be it. I won’t be the person holding your happiness at bay.” He said.

You remained silent and after a while Andy set you down on the bed and got up.

“Think about it, it is your choice this time.” He kissed your head and left the room. That was the first night in over a year you’d spent alone, and you cried yourself into a restless sleep, reaching out for the warm body not there. You woke up with eyes sealed shut by dried tears and your whole body aching. The sun was high in the sky meaning you slept well past noon. You walked downstairs into the kitchen, looking around for Andy. You needed to see him, touch him. You needed assurance that he was still there and hadn’t left you. You found Jacob working on his assignment and joined him at the table.

“Good afternoon”, he teased with a smile. Then he looked at your face and cringed. “Jeez, you look sick. Can I get you something? You want me to call dad?”

“I’m fine, just tired. Where is Andy?”, you asked with a raspy voice and gratefully accepted water from Jacob.

“He left early, I think. Left a note on the fridge saying he’ll be back later.” Seeing your face fall, Jacob got up and patted your arm. “You sit here while I get you some coffee. You look like you really need it.”

You nodded and tried not to sniffle. Here was a boy who felt like your own son despite you being not that much older to him. You had a family right here, even if you hadn’t asked for it this way. You held your head in your hands, confused.

Jacob got you coffee and some snacks to munch on. He kept looking at you out of the corner of his eyes, pretending to work. You put down your mug after a few silent minutes and asked him if something was wrong.

“Did you reject dad?” He asked you after hesitating. You gaped at him in shock.

“What? I – No. Why would you say that?”

Jacob turned red stuttered. “Its just…dad showed me the ring. I thought he asked you and well, you’re in such a state and he left early which he has never done since you got here, I thought you said no.” You looked down in your lap, wanting to go upstairs and cry in your pillow.

“Hey, I am so sorry. I just – please don’t say no because of me.” Jacob said earnestly. “I am okay with your relationship. More than okay, in fact. After mom, well, I thought I would never see dad smile again. And then he met you and he started cooking and humming songs again. Then once you moved in…it felt like life had gone back to normal. He became better than before. Mom and he used to fight all the time, but you and he click. So please, if you are worried about me, don’t be.”

You chocked out a pathetic sob and hugged a bewildered Jacob who tried his best to console you. You almost laughed as he let out a few “there there” and “it will be okay”. He was so much like his father.

“Jacob, I think I love your father.”, you said with tears rolling down your cheeks. Jacob grinned a smug smile and breathed out a quite laugh.

“Why do you say that as a bad thing?” He asked.

“Because I don’t know how to tell your father about it” you confessed. Jacob stood up and took you with him. Placing his hands on your shoulder, he turned you around.

“I don’t think you need to tell him anymore.”

Andy stood at the entrance, looking at you both with an unreadable expression in his eyes. He moved closer while you flushed in embarrassment, looking at the floor and shuffling like a naughty child caught causing mischief.

“You, leave.” Andy ordered his son who was smiling like Christmas had come early.

“As if I’d stay for what’s about to happen. I quite like the innocence of my eyes.” Jake joked and scampered when his father glared at him. Andy stood in front of you, looking down at you until you finally raised your head to peak at him from under your wet lashes.

“So…”, he trailed off and you almost stomped your feet once you saw the amusement in his eyes. He is going to milk this moment for all it was worth. You’d made him wait long enough for this.

“So…” You said as well.

“I take it you aren’t going back to your brother’s?”

“No”, you whispered. You wanted him to touch you, to make you his again. Spending one night away from him had driven you almost insane with loneliness. You needed him and yet he didn’t put a hand on you.

“Why not?” He asked instead, tracing his bottom lip with his finger. You squirmed as you watched his action, heat pooling between your legs at the thought of that sensual mouth.

“I – I changed my mind”

“You did, did you?”

“Yes”

“Why?”

You glared at him, making him smirk. You broke and took hold of his collar, pulling him close and brushing your lips against his.

“You know why!” You hissed, trying to kiss him harder but he resisted.

“I don’t know, I mean, is the sex that good?”

The bastard. He was teasing you here and enjoying your discomfort. To hell with everything. You should have just written it on a scrap of paper and dumped it on his lap or something. But then you looked in his eyes which were dancing in the afternoon light, his eyes which had only ever held affection for you. You pushed yourself on you toes and put your mouth against his.

“I love you”

You were in his arms then and he carried you upstairs before you realized what happened. Throwing you on the bed and locking the door, he removed his shirt and climbed over you.

“Again”, he ordered, his lips burning against your throat.

“I love you”, you cried. Your hands found their way into his hair and tugged, making him growl. Both of you tore at your clothes, mouths meeting and teeth gnashing in a desperation to get closer.

“Again”, he said, holding your naked body beneath his, his cock poised at your entrance.

“I love you”

He entered you in a smooth stroke, making you clench around him. He pulled back and looked into your eyes, thrusting slow and deep, relishing in your mewls. He made love to you and you sang the words in his mouth and ear until you both came with muffled cries.

Sweaty and laying in each other’s arms, you basked in the newfound feeling of togetherness. You knew this wasn’t how a normal person falls in love. You realized that someone else may think something was wrong with you. But it is what it is. You loved this man after everything he had done to do. You loved him and you will do your best to let him know that every chance you could.

“So, are you gonna give me that ring now?” You asked.

Andy laughed and looked at you tugged into his naked body.

“With how much you’ve made me wait, you should be the one getting down on your knees.” He joked.

You looked at him with a teasing smile and got up.

“You only had to ask”, you breathed against his mouth before moving down on his body and getting to your knees, ready to show him how much you loved him again and again.

#andy barber x reader #dark!andy barber x reader #dark!andy barber #andy x reader #defending jacob #chris evans x reader #dark!chris evans #dark!chris evans x reader

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primasveraas-writing · 3 years ago

Text

"Kent v Linebacker" -Ted Lasso

Roy's knee is fucked. This is well known.

His fucking monster child, who he loves, accidentally fucks it up more. Such is life.

Part 2 // Accompanying AU

WORDS: 2631

XXX

Their first son is “built like a linebacker,” according to Ted Lasso. Roy shows his usual disdain at the reference to the wrong type of football, but Keeley wearily agrees- she was, after all, the one who carried then delivered their 10-pound baby.

Most people see their son and suggest rugby instead of football, even as they pile tiny Kent jerseys and footballs onto the new parents. Roy insists he doesn’t give a damn if their child wants to play rugby or football or join the damn chess club, but he also tears up the first time Keeley puts him in a tiny (or maybe just small) Richmond jersey.

Because of the way Roy and Keeley are, they balance each other out. Marriage and parenthood come to them relatively smoothly, save for typical growing pains and bumps in the road. But they figure it out, at least for the most part.

One of the more persistent bumps is Roy’s knee. Because, while he was forced to walk away from playing football, Roy is reluctant to accept other limitations. He’ll run or dance or carry around the baby’s new crib, and then swear and pop his knee back into place as needed. Doctors eventually find this out and inform him that this is, in fact, bad. Roy Kent tells them to fuck off. He doesn’t echo this sentiment when Keeley suggests that they’re right.

Because, as usual, she seems to have a point. It doesn’t always take a miles-long Christmas day walk or a rom-com style sprint to Ted Lasso to fuck up Roy’s knee. Somedays, it’s going down the stairs one too many times. Or standing up long enough to make Keeley a fancy dinner. Or jumping around in the coaches’ box after a Richmond win. So Roy concedes this matter, and anyway, he doesn’t particularly enjoy moving his kneecap around or Phoebe’s and Keeley’s face when he does so.

Roy scales back, reluctantly and unhappily. He does modified yoga with the moms and they suggest stretches to help him. Roy doesn’t push himself nearly as much, and so the pain in his daily life decreases.

Then Roy becomes a father, and then his son becomes a toddler.

Oliver is a fucking ray of sunshine. He’s inherited Keeley’s bubbly personality, something evident from his first dazzling smile and the peals of laughter that soon follow. When he starts to talk, he does so incessantly, and he puts every ounce of his energy into babbling and running literal circles around his parents. Even Keeley- even Ted Lasso, occasional babysitter- struggle to keep up. But Roy and Keeley and the Richmond team do their level best to entertain and supervise him, and it works.

Then, because they’re fucking daft, Roy and Keeley decide they want another fucking monster to turn their lives all upside down.

Oliver is three when they tell him he’s going to be a big brother. He’s overjoyed, then he cries, then he’s comforted, then he’s overjoyed again. Roy is the happiest he’s ever fucking been with his son, and Keeley pregnant, and then life comes along and fucks it all up again.

Father and son are just home from preschool, Oliver restarting his long-winded recap of his day when he sees Keeley. Roy hobbles through the door behind him, grinning at Keeley for half a second. She beams back at him, then returns her attention to their child, brows furrowing as she tries to decipher his somewhat senseless story.

Roy’s standing by Keeley’s side, hand on her shoulder as they listen the best they can. Oliver reaches a part of his tale that’s especially exciting- something about cupcakes and a classmate’s birthday, and he gives a shout, then springs up with his arms spread wide, and-

-forty pounds of force collide with Roy’s bad leg. He hears Keely gasp, which is what registers first, then his vision goes white as pain overtakes him, and he feels himself falling.

He opens his eyes a moment later, and Keeley is crouching at his side awkwardly, the swell of her stomach hindering her. Oliver gives a noise that indicates he’s probably about to cry, and Roy shushes him through a groan.

“Fuck,” Roy says, his voice strained. “I’m okay.”

Keeley purses her lips, which indicates she’s well aware of his lie, but she draws Oliver against her side, rubbing circles into his back as she takes Roy’s hand.

“It hasn’t been this bad before, has it?”

Roy shakes his head. “I think I’m fucked,” he confesses, trying to keep the uncertainty and pain out of his words.

“ER fucked?”

“Fuck no.”

“Can you get up, Roy?” Keeley would sound impatient if not for the way her tone wavers. Roy shifts, babying his leg, and Keeley watches as he winces, cringes, and swears again.

Keeley whispers something to Oliver, and he sniffs loudly before scampering off into the kitchen. His wife stands, unsteady and off-balance, and reaches down to help him. Roy uses only his left leg to rise, trying not to knock Keeley over, and he staggers before grabbing the back of the couch to steady himself. Keeley holds onto his elbow and guides him around so he can sit.

“I’m fucked,” Roy reiterates, and this time, Keeley just nods.

In the end, there’s no ER visit- just a few pulled strings to get Roy into the doctor the next day. Rebecca stops by to deliver crutches and a few bottles of painkillers once Keeley realizes that Roy can’t get to the bathroom- or anywhere else, for that matter- on his own. More reluctantly, Ted is called, and he promises to give Oliver the “best darn sleepover since the movie Sleepover.” Roy isn’t particularly keen on Ted being privy to this particular moment of weakness, but Ted leaves with Oliver quickly enough, and Keeley’s pretty sure that even just a few minutes of exposure to Ted is enough to force some positivity into Roy’s outlook, and for that, she’s grateful.

Roy sleeps on the couch that night, as stairs are out of the question. Even if he could manage to struggle up them, he can only imagine coming back down via a painful fall. He’s alone, too, because, despite Keeley’s protests, he’s not about to let his pregnant wife sleep anywhere but a proper bed.

He lies awake long after kissing and texting Keeley goodnight, and he contemplates the quiet of the house and the apparent severity of the situation. The doctor had wanted Roy to come in today, but she didn’t throw a fit when he insisted he could wait. Instead, he’ll see her tomorrow, first thing, and Ted will take his son to school, and Keeley and Roy will both miss work for Roy’s least-favorite type of doctor’s appointment.

“You dislocated your kneecap again,” Doctor Patel explains, gesturing to an x-ray of a very fucked up knee. “The first time, you twisted it.” She points to a slightly less fucked up x-ray. “But continually dislocating your knee weakened the ligaments. So, when Oliver collided with you, your ACL and meniscus tore completely.”

“That’s why it hurt so damn much.”

Patel nods, then sighs. “You mentioned chronic pain worsening over time- you did everything right, trying to keep it at bay, but this- along with additional trauma- can worsen a knee injury.”

Roy grunts. He expected as much. The first doctor he saw after his final match had warned of this, along with things like arthritis and all sorts of complications. His main worry was that his football career was over, and there was nothing he could do about that, so any accompanying outcomes seemed unimportant.

He was wrong, apparently.

“It’s not unusual for these injuries to get worse over time. Especially when you’re not gentle with yourself. But, your symptoms are indicative of severe tearing. I’m also worried about nerve damage.”

“So what do we do now?”

Keeley is the one who asks, gripping Roy’s hand. He glances at her, then squeezes her hand.

Patel hesitates. Roy likes this doctor- her knowledge and honesty have been extremely comforting to both him and Keeley over the years. She doesn’t take bullshit, not even Roy’s, and he appreciates that about her.

But it’s unusual for her to hesitate.

“I believe our best option is open knee surgery,” she says, and her eyes soften when Roy’s jaw clenches. “There are other routes we can pursue, but we’re at a point where they may not be as effective.

“What are they?”

“We can do more tests and try an arthroscopic surgery or other minimally invasive options, but-”

Roy tunes her out. He’s the last football player of his generation- he’s seen everyone he played with at the beginning of his career retire, and the various injuries that forced this fate upon his fellow footballers. Open knee surgery is a big fucking deal. Especially since he’s not a fucking grandma.

“It’s a long fucking recovery time,” Roy says finally.

A nod.

“We have a baby due in three months.” This time, Keeley squeezes Roy’s hand.

“If all goes well, you’ll be walking unassisted by then. Enough for midnight diaper changes, so long as you don’t sprint into the nursery.”

“And it’ll work best?”

“I can say with reasonable confidence that your case is severe enough to warrant this surgery, and that the other surgeries aren’t typically successful in similar cases.”

“Fuck. Let’s do it.”

They schedule surgery for a few days later, which is a quick turnaround, but it’s enough time for two Richmond matches to take place. The first falls on the day after Roy’s doctor visit, and the second one is the day of the surgery. This gives him pause- Roy’s first and longest love is football, and he’s loath to step away, even for a week. But he thinks of Oliver, hesitant to hug his father when they get home, and Keeley, sneaking glances at him as if expecting him to break when she’s not looking.

Roy trudges- or limps- forward. He stays home for the first Richmond match and tries to ignore Keeley scrolling through Twitter with a worried look on her face. They had debated what would be worse- to miss the match with no explanation, or for Roy to show up on crutches and in obvious pain. In the end, the desire for privacy (and maybe easing Roy’s discomfort) won out, and Keeley and Roy and Oliver watch the match from their living room. Roy and Oliver shout at the TV, and Keeley livetweets, and it’s okay until the post-match conference.

“Coach Lasso! Roy Kent was missing from the coaches’ box tonight. Can you explain why? Has there been a professional change or has something personal occurred?”

Ted holds up a hand, stemming the reporter’s flow of questions. He smiles at her easily, but Roy knows that no matter what Ted says, there’ll be speculation. A nonanswer is still an answer, but they decided as a team to keep the public in the dark as long as possible, to maintain any privacy Roy has.

“Roy and his family are jus’ fine, thank you. As far as I know, Roy hasn’t decided to leave our coaching team, so we’re all good there.” Ted clears his throat, and Roy wonders if his mentor is uncomfortable telling half-truths to the press. “Roy needed some personal time away, but I expect you’ll be seeing him back again shortly. Thanks.”

“Well, that wasn’t complete shit,” Roy muses in near-approval. Keeley hums noncommittally.

“No,” she agrees, pleased. “And I livetweeted the whole thing so nobody thinks one of us is dying.”

“Perfect,” Roy says, satisfied. So long as they don’t get hounded on the way to the hospital. He looks down at his lap, where Oliver is curled against him, fast asleep. Roy moves slightly so that he can wrap his arm around his son, and sighs.

Keeley looks up at them and grins as she takes in the sight. “Look at my boys,” she says softly, and Roy’s heart melts just a little.

Surgery goes well, and Roy leaves the hospital the same day. His memories of the event and the hours after are fuzzy, but Keeley informs him that he watched the Richmond match while the anesthetic wore off, and proceeded to shout an absolutely incomprehensible mix of words and swears at the TV. Richmond lost, but it was hard fought, and it’s days later when Keeley confesses to Roy that he actually cried once the final result was clear. Roy would be less concerned by this if he could remember it at all, but at the same time, he’s reassured that his plan of being totally unaffected by major surgery and attending the match in person didn’t pan out.

Roy quickly decides he’s utterly useless on crutches, instead letting Oliver expend his energy by fetching things like water and painkillers and phone chargers for his dad. There’s plenty for him to do; Oliver thrives with given purpose, and under the extra attention Roy has to spare. He hates being unable to carry his son, but he can still cuddle with him, and draw with him, and even though Keeley is burdened with bathing and chasing after Oliver, Roy can still fucking help here and there. Like telling Oliver to eat his broccoli or clean up his shit, because vegetables are fucking important and his son isn’t a slob.

His return to Richmond is less smooth. He doesn’t want anybody’s fucking pity, least of all from the boys on the team, or from Ted Fucking Lasso, but instead of the fearful reactions Roy’s used to, Roy’s treated with a gentleness he absolutely fucking despises. Nobody wants to push back against his heightened grumpiness (a side effect of knee surgery is that it fucking hurts and this makes Roy very unhappy), and Ted somehow feels obligated to hang back with him as he limps up to the field each day. His fellow coach also launches into several tirades about his and Beard’s and his great uncle Roger’s various injuries over the years, and Roy ends his first week back feeling, unfortunately, closer to all three men, including the one he’s never fucking met in the first place.

Keeley’s made sure to officially announce that he’s had surgery, explaining away his absence and all the speculation that went with it. The press will likely hound him anyways, but Roy already has his response planned (“Fuck off!”).

The crowd cheers him during their next match. He hobbles slowly behind the rest of the coaches, using one crutch even though he really should be using both, swearing under his breath at the soft terrain and his shit balance and fucking kneecaps for being so fragile in the first place. Keeley would say all this support is sweet, and he catches a glimpse of her beaming at him from the stands, Oliver bouncing on her lap, and the agony and humiliation dulls.

Richmond plays a great fucking game. It’s not their best match ever, but they win and celebrate accordingly. Roy makes his excuses earlier than usual; he knows he’s put Keeley through the wringer in the past week, and Oliver keeps rubbing his eyes, and there’s nothing more that Roy wants than to read his son a fairytale then cuddle with his wife in bed.

So they go home, and do exactly that.

Roy’s last thought before he drifts off that night, having tucked Oliver into bed and kissed Keeley quite thoroughly, is of how fucking perfect his life is. And, although he echoes that thought many more times, one of the more poignant occurrences is when his daughter is born, and he holds her in his arms for the first time.

Yeah. Pretty fucking perfect.

#roy kent #roy x keeley #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #keeley jones #roy x keeley fanfic #roy x keeley fanfiction #keeley x roy #ted lasso imagine #roy kent x keeley jones

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kaitycole · 4 years ago

Text

losing what he never had

Summary: Bokuto recounts the worst day of his life that all started with a phone call.

Pairing: Bokuto x fem!reader

Word Count: 2822

Warnings: Angst. Pure fucking angst. Character death. Slight mention of pregnancy loss.

A/N: Thanks to @cosmicmermaid25 for this prompt. She said “make me cry” I hope this lives up to it.

“I was supposed to be there, at home with you, but a match got rescheduled and I had to be in Tokyo. I was supposed to be there, driving with you to your doctor’s appointment because you wanted me with you, but instead I wasn’t and you were all alone.”

* * Present Day

Bokuto isn’t sure what he’s supposed to feel, but he does know that he feels empty and maybe a little lost. That feeling you get when you turn around in circles, first noticing the person you’re with isn’t there anymore. That feeling right before the panic sets in that you’re alone. Or maybe it’s more like when a strong wind blows in your face and you can’t catch breath, the struggle of quickly trying to block the overwhelming emotions that flood you as you try to breathe.

It’s been two months since he got the call, a phone call that shattered his entire world, that brought him down to his knees and nothing in his life has been the same. Like looking through a shattered mirror, hoping to see a complete image.

It had been on the calendar for weeks, the day that Y/N had her doctor’s appointment and she didn’t really like driving to far places alone, so of course being the doting boyfriend, Bokuto offered to drive. He didn’t mind, in fact he rather enjoyed driving and a part of him really enjoyed Y/N depending on him. She didn’t need to, she could hold her own, but he loved to feel needed and was confident that his partner knew that too.

But there was a storm, a match between MSBY and Schweiden Adlers had to be reschedule, but it became an away game and as fate would have it, it was scheduled for the same day as the appointment. Bokuto apologized profusely to his partner, swearing if he could sit out then he would, but she brushed off his worries, saying she understood, it wasn’t a big deal. Sometimes having such an understanding partner could hurt.

* * Two months ago – 7:45 AM

*alarm noises*

Bokuto picks up his phone, clicking end on the alarm, but truth be told, he had been up for a while. It’s weighing down on him that he can’t be there for his girlfriend, knowing she is getting ready to do something that she isn’t comfortable doing to begin with.

“Ko?” Her voice still sounds full of sleep, even though he knows by now she’s already had her morning tea and shower.

“’Morning babe. I just wanted to call before you left.” He steps out of the hotel room, out into the hallway. There’s a deeper meaning weighing his words, worry for her trip, but he’s hoping she doesn’t take it as doubt.

“You have perfect timing.” He hears the door locking in the background, “I was just walking out of the apartment.”

“I wish I could’ve been there to take you. Or that you’d have agreed to let Akaashi go with you.” He knows she can do it, but it doesn’t alleviate any guilt he has knowing that she didn’t really want to go alone.

“You can’t help a scheduling change and I’ll be okay, it’s not too far, ya know?” There’s a bit of hesitation in her voice and it kills Bokuto to know there’s nothing he can do. He tried to get her to reschedule but she said it had taken her a while to just get this one, she didn’t know how long it’d take to get another.

He sits on the ground next to his hotel room’s door, leaning back against the wall. “I know, but I still like feeling needed.” “Ko,” there’s a smile in her tone, “I’ll always need you. I gotta go, good luck at your game!”

“I love you. Be safe.”

“Love too you Ko!”

He stares at his phone, the screen now black and he can’t help but feel this pit in his stomach, like something’s eating at him. He pushes himself off the ground, trying to shake off the feeling, chalking it up to pre-game jitters.

* * 10:30 AM

It’s nearing the end of the first set of the match against the Adler that Bokuto’s focus seems to be withering. Hinata starts trying to pick up the slack on Bo’s end and Atsumu gets pissed off enough to stop setting to him altogether, which helps but the Adlers are quick to use that as a weak spot for MSBY. After the first set, Adlers in the lead, Coach Foster makes the decision to bench Bo.

Bokuto flops down on the bench, accepting a water bottle from the team’s manager. He hates this feeling, especially when he proudly told Akaashi and Atsumu that he wasn’t the moody guy that he was back in high school, and here he was letting whatever this feeling is affect his gameplay.

“Just cool down and clear your head.” Coach Foster says, not taking his eyes off the court.

Bokuto leans forward, his head between his knees as he steadies his breathing, letting go of everything that feels like it’s weighing him down. He knows that she’s fine, she promised him that she would be and he lets the comfort of her voice clear his mind before he makes eye contact with his coach, telling him that he’s ready now.

* * 1:55 PM

She should be home by now, right?

Bokuto looks down at his phone again, her voicemail echoing from the other end. Once Bokuto’s mind was clear, the Black Jackal dominated the court and took the win, but even with the various cheers filling the locker room, Bo found himself feeling miles away from the celebration.

He clicks on her thread once more, the last text having been from a few days ago about dinner, no “got here safely” text from today and that makes his stomach sink. He tries calling again, trying to rationalize that maybe it hadn’t gone through the first time, locker rooms had shaky cell reception, right? But he gets her voicemail once again, glances up at the clock, noting that maybe she was eating lunch or taking a nap, she’d been napping a lot more lately.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Bo!” Hinata says, patting his teammate on the back.

“C’mon, let’s go get something to eat!” Atsumu yells and a few other teammates quickly agree.

Bo lets out a sigh, shaking the thoughts from his head, “yeah, okay.”

* * 2:30 PM

Bokuto walks out of the hotel, most of the team already waiting out front, he doesn’t want to get food, he’d rather head back home, but the team is scheduled for a meet and greet tonight. Meaning chances of him leaving before tomorrow morning are slim. He looks down at his phone, an unknown number is calling, but before he can ignore it, the almost paralyzing feeling that weighed him down on the court grips around him.

“Hello?” His voice is shaking, Hinata and Atsumu walk over to him, both lost in whatever they were talking about to notice the shift in Bokuto’s demeanor.

“I’m calling for a Bokuto-san. Is this them?” “Yeah, I’m Boku—” He can’t finish his sentence, his mind racing with various thoughts, negative thoughts dry his mouth, causing a lump in a throat, like his body already knows what he’s about to hear. Hinata looks between him and Atsumu, clearly concerned for his teammate and friend, while Atsumu leans into the other side of the phone, hoping to overhear.

“You’re listed as an emergency contact for a L/N F/N.” There’s a pause that last about five seconds too long for Bokuto’s worried mind.

He doesn’t really hear anything after that, just snippets of the unfamiliar voice on the other side.

There was an accident…

…emergency surgery.

How soon…

…be here?

Atsumu catches Bokuto’s phone as his hand just lets it go, his mind still racing as the color drains from his face. He turns, running back into the hotel, using the stairs to get to his room because his anxious mind couldn’t take the wait for an elevator. Hinata and Atsumu run after him, but all he can hear is the thumping of his heart in his ears, his vision getting blurry from either tears or shock, he’s not too sure.

He fumbles with the keycard to get into the room, all but slamming it against the sensor before flinging the door open. He’s panicked, looking around the room trying to figure out what he needs right now, what should he take, he was never good at this thing, Y/N is always the one who packs things for him.

By the time Hinata and Atsumu have caught up to him, he’s mumbling to himself, Sakusa stepping out of the room next door to see what all the noise is from.

“I’ll fly. I’ll fly back to Osaka.” Bokuto says, looking for his passport, because in his mind airport equals passport.

“That’d take too long Bokuto.” Sakusa slowly steps into the room, trying to reason with him, “by the time you got a flight you could’ve already been back.”

Bokuto looks back towards the door, towards three of his teammates and the expression on his face could break their hearts. His bottom lip is poked out in a worried pout, his hair drooping down, almost like it’s deflated. None of them know what to do or to say, this is Akaashi’s or Y/N’s territory, not theirs.

“The train, Bo. That’s the fastest to get to her.”

He starts nodding, patting his pockets to make sure he has his wallet and quickly grabs a hoodie, as he starts making his way out of the room, his face void of any expression or emotion.

Keys.

Check.

Wallet.

Check.

Phone.

Check.

He pauses, still panicked, “I don’t have my passport. Where is it? I need it!”

Atsumu wants to grab and push Bokuto out of the room, to yell that he doesn’t need a passport to get on the train, but Hinata rushing into the room, swiping it from the inside pocket that lined his duffle bag. It’s where Y/N had told Bo to keep it so he wouldn’t worry about losing it or walking out of the hotel without it and where he’s kept it ever since.

“Here you go.” Hinata hands it to the wing spiker, noting that Bokuto’s eyes look dead, there’s no light in them like usual. “C’mon, let’s get to the train station.”

* * 6 PM

Bokuto bolts into the hospital, frantically looking around the sterile white building, breathlessly. He walks up to the first person that he sees in a white coat, not really caring how he looks to anyone.

“I…got a call…”

“Patient name?”

He tells the doctor her name, watching the woman’s face drop just slightly before becoming stoic again. “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”

“After I see her…” His words are desperate, like he’s hanging on from the edge, getting ready to fall at any moment. The pain in his eyes clearly evident to the woman as she tries to figure out what to do, how to handle the situation. “Please.”

“We tried….there wasn’t…I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head, as if the motion alone would change what he’s about to hear, what he’s feared since he got the call. His fingers run through his hair, tugging on it slight to ground him because it feels unreal, like he’s watching this unfold from outside his own body.

“…your losses.”

Bokuto’s attention instantly refocuses, eyes lined with tears that are seconds from falling, such a pathetic expression in his eyes. “What?”

“I just assumed you knew.” The doctor shifts awkwardly on her feet, “it seems she was 11 weeks pregnant.”

* * 7:12 PM

“Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto’s sitting next to the hospital bed where Y/N is, holding her hand, half asleep, the mix of crying and the adrenaline wearing off has drained him. He’s been there practically since he arrived, refusing to leave her, refusing to accept that she’s anything but sleeping.

“Bokuto-san.”

He looks up, eyes red and puffy, his nose stuffy as he breathes through it, turning slightly to see the owner of the voice, never letting go of her hand. Though it doesn’t feel like her hand, it’s cold which isn’t unlike her, she’s always been warm. She brought a warmth to Bokuto’s life and he’s not sure he’s ready to let it go, he’s not sure that he can let go.

Akaashi walks in the room, placing a hand on Bo’s right shoulder, “Bokuto-san, let’s get you home.”

“I can’t…leave her…here.” He starts choking on the sobs that rip through his throat, “she won’t know where she is.”

“I know, but it’s getting late.”

“We can go…after she wakes up, okay? Yeah, yeah,” his voice raises a little bit, like he’s satisfied with the idea he’s come up with, “that way…I can let her…know I’ll be back.”

Akaashi takes a deep breath, he thought he’d seen every side of Bokuto, that he knew all of his weaknesses and strengths, that he was the one of the few people that could ground Bokuto, but he’s out of his element here. How do you tell your best friend the love of his life isn’t going to wake up?

“Boku—” “Aka—Keiji,” He steadies his breath, a small sob cracks his voice, “I know…she’s gone, but once I leave we won’t be a family of three, it’ll just…it’ll just be me.”

Akaashi feels his own tears starting to form, trying to blink them away, he has to be strong for his best friend. He squeezes his hand on Bokuto’s shoulder when he feels him start to tremble, to shake underneath him, cries filling the room. He wants to tell Bokuto that it’s time to leave, that they really need to be going, but how do you take someone away from something that wasn’t theirs yet?

* * Present Day

Bokuto’s never really believed in a higher power, he doesn’t give much thought to horoscopes or pay any attention when people swear they had “feelings” about something, but looking back on that day, something didn’t sit right in his stomach after their call ended. And that’s something that has plagued his thoughts ever since.

If only he had called her back, begged for her to just miss the appointment, maybe…maybe she wouldn’t have…

He shakes his head, tears trailing his cheeks, he knows it won’t do him any good to think that way, but how could he not? Looking back, he knows something was trying to tell him to stop her, but he didn’t, he just let her go and this was the outcome of his choice.

“Sorry I didn’t come for a few days, we had another away game, but Akaashi told me that he came a few times to keep you company.” He wipes the tears, smearing this across his face. “I’ve gotten better at packing my bags now, though Sakusa still brings extra toiletries for me.”

He tilts his head to the side, realizing that sometimes if he stopped thinking, it still felt like she was there, so much of her still part of his daily interactions, bits of her still sprinkled through his decisions.

Laundry’s still done on Wednesdays because she liked doing it in the middle of the week.

Take-out for dinner on Saturdays because that was always their at-home date night.

Passport can still be found in the lining pocket of his duffle bag when he’s traveling.

Her favorite tea brand is still in the cabinets because Bokuto still brews it just so the house smells like her.

“I was picked to play on the Japan National Team in the Olympics this year, Y/N. You always said I could do it.” He fumbles in his pocket, grabbing the small item that’s been weighing down on him. “I never told you, but I had big plans for if I made it to the Olympics.”

Bokuto places a small black velvet box on top of the tombstone, his fingers dragging across the smooth surface, letting his hand fall when it reaches the end. He whispers that he loves her one more time before he heads back to the parking lot, Kuroo was waiting there. Even without her around, he was never alone, not really, one of his friends was always finding an excuse to stay with him which he didn’t mind.

It hurts, hurts to try to figure out a life without her, knowing that if things had been different they’d be getting ready for a baby. Part of him wants to fall apart acknowledging that, knowing that in some alternate universe she’s his wife and mother of his child, that he’s a dad, but he can’t because it feels wrong to mourn over something that was never his to begin with.

#haikyuu!!#hq bokuto #bokuto kotaro #hq bokuto x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto x female reader #bokuto angst #hq angst #no fluff here #pure angst #tw angst #tw character death #tw loss of a loved one #tw grief #tw mourning #tw loss of pregnancy #reader death #tw reader death #bokuto kōtarō x reader

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yungbud · 4 years ago

Text

Silent Treatment+X

Req? Yes! @madonnasinn said: Can you write a smut about Dom ignoring y/n over a petty fight they had a few days ago, and y/n parades in a very tiny skirt around him when they go out to have dinner with his friends (to get his attention). He then gets really mad because all the guys keep eyeing her, which she knows he hates so she tempts him and fuck in the restaurant bathroom 🤭 just a lil idea i had LOL

Word Count: 2.4K

Tw:Light choking, semi-public sex acts, a little bit of thigh spanking/smacking, idk smut obviously.

A/N: Feast

—

You sat in the kitchen with Dom. Well, Dom sat, you stood, washing the dishes as he talked to you about how the album was going.

“I’ve just been so stressed for the past three fookin weeks trying to get this done. I just want it to be perfect, you know? And I keep wanting to go back and tweak it but Gav tells me not to.” Dom ranted, absentmindedly picking at his nailpolish while he did.

You reached for the knob of the faucet, turning the water on to rinse off the dish in your hand, accidentally turning it too high and ending up being splashed with water, soaking the bottom half of your shirt.

That reminded you, tomorrow you had to do the laundry, then clean Dom and your shared room, then you’d have to shower– No, that wouldn’t work. You’d have to shower then do laundry before you leave, or else you’d end up being late for your appointment.

God, these last few weeks had just been so stressful. You felt like you barely had a chance to breathe, you’d finish one thing and up would pop the next. Oh, and you couldn’t forget lunch right after your appointment. You hoped there wouldn’t be traffic, you can’t be late because (Y/B/F) would only be visiting you on their lunch break, they’d have to go back to work straight after.

Who were you kidding, it’s LA, of course there’d be traffic.

Should you reschedule? You were both so busy as is and this was the one time your schedules had allowed you to meet up in what must’ve been months.

Shit, you thought, how long had it been? You began replaying the last few months in your head as you absentmindedly scrubbed at the plate in hand.

“And you’re not even listening.” Dom pouted.

“No, no I am. That’s great sweetie.”

“What’d I just say.” He tests, looking at you, his raised brow doing very little to hide the fact that he’s annoyed.

“You were talking about the uh- The uhm,” You paused, mustering all your brain cells to remember what he had just been talking about. The towel squished between your hand and the counter as you leaned against the sink, your fingers coming up to stroke the bridge of your nose as you thought “The drums, you just finished the last of it, right?”

The oven dinged, signalling the food needed tending too. Your mind flipped as you searched the kitchen for the oven mit.

Where could you have possibly put it if not right next to the oven where you could’ve sworn you left it. You spun, searching the other counters, even going as far as to look in the sink before realizing it had slid to the floor right below where you put it. Sighing, you leaned down to grab it, pulling open the oven to tend to tonight’s dinner.

“Uh, what else happened today?” You ask, trying to keep your mind on track. You were careful not to burn yourself as fussed with the food

“Shit, babe can you hand me the tongs?” You ask, reaching a hand out behind you. That’s when you realized he hadn’t responded.

“Babe?” You try again, turning around only to realize he’d already left. You scoffed, grabbing it for yourself before leaning back. Standing straight, you take a moment to bask in the warmth of the oven before closing it.

*~Three days later~*

Dom raised his head to look at you, your spoon clinking against the side of your bowl signalling your entrance of the living room. He looked back to the TV just as soon as he had looked over, obviously too invested in whatever he was watching to acknowledge your existence. A sigh of relief left your lips when your butt hit the cushions, leaning back into the inviting, cushiony supports.

“Ugh, this week has been so stressful. I feel like I haven’t had the chance to sit in like… forever.” You say, your eyes focusing on what was playing in front of you. It was an old episode of the great british bake off.

You laughed a bit, but it came off more as a hum.

“You know, I heard when contestants would cry, Mel and Sue would stand by them and use un-airable language so the footage wouldn’t make it to the final cut. Isn’t that so thoughtful?” You say, trying to perk some conversation out of the boy sitting next to you.

He wasn’t responding. Your eyebrows furrowed as you searched through anything you might’ve said to upset him recently. You couldn’t think of a single thing, come to think of it, what was the last thing you had said to him? Hell, when was it?

You realized quickly your last exchange was in the kitchen, and even that had been cut short by him leaving.

Yes, that’s right. When you had crawled in bed with him that night, he had been asleep and you were in such a rush the next morning you couldn’t remember if he was awake next to you when you woke up. He wasn’t exactly avoiding you as much as he was not talking to you.

Had he seriously been giving you the silent treatment for that long?

“Is everything okay?” You tried, sure you were only getting in your own head. Your eyes had completely left the TV at this point, focusing solely on the quiet boy next to you. There was no response, not even so much as a nod.

“You haven’t talked to me in almost a week.” You continued

“Doesn’t matter. Even if i did, you wouldn’t be listening.” Dom retorted

“I’m sorry i made you feel that way. It honestly was not my intention, i’ve just been so caught up this week.” You were sorry, but it seemed awfully ridiculous to have gone this long giving you the silent treatment just because you had been distracted.

The conversation ended entirely there.

Dom hadn’t said more than two words to you since your argument, doing everything in his power to avoid you. It wasn’t hard, after all he was a very busy man. Especially with the release of his new album coming up, there were interviews and meetings to be had, but at a certain point they became less of a responsibility and more of an excuse.

You were on twitter, you had seen his fans practically begging him to take a break, but taking a break would mean seeing you, and that just wasn’t something he had been in the mood to do recently. It was bad enough already that he had to go to dinner with you.

That was okay, you would help him get in the mood. Or, rather, out of his mood. If Dom wanted to be petty, fine, you could be petty.

You slipped the soft material up your legs, admiring your reflection in the mirror. If Dom was going to ignore you, you were going to give him something to ignore.

You knew this skirt would do the trick, every time you saw another girl or, fuck it, boy, prouncing around and one of these skirts even you nearly fucked them. Everybody looked good in these, it was a fact of life, you’d decided. You knew you definitely looked good, you almost had to stop for a moment and touch yourself to the sight, but glancing at the clock you realized you didn’t have nearly enough time for a bit of self pleasure.

You were practically already running late, spending all your time getting yourself ready to grab Dom’s attention. You added some finishing touches before heading out to the living room where Dom sat, waiting for you patiently.

Any other time Dom would’ve been right next to you in the bathroom, admiring your work on your makeup, outfit and hair, but today he stayed in the living room

You tried not to smirk as you made your way into his line of vision. The look on his face was completely worth the hours of tireless work, though. He’d turned his head to look at you, a distinct glare replaced by shock, his eyes widening a bit as they landed on your outfit. It was tight and loose in all the right places and only added to your stunning features.

“What?” You teased,

He tried to recover quickly, returning to his pouty state, not even bothering with a response as you followed him out the door.

You were sitting at the table, surrounded by you and Dom’s friends when someone finally made a comment on your appearance.

“You look really good, (Y/N).” Tom commented, everyone nodding in agreement as the conversation momentarily shifted to you.

“Thank you! I thought so.” You praise yourself, smiling down at your outfit.

The conversation drifted off again, a newfound confidence bubbling up in your chest. You reached over to Dom, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh. It stayed there for a moment before he moved it, and it continued on like that. You did everything in your power to remind him of how good you looked and how short your skirt was until he motioned for you to stand. A couple eyes turned to you as you walked off, but no one asked any questions.

Dom was practically dragging you, your feet fumbling as you struggled to keep up with his long strides. When you realized where you were headed you glanced at him, eyes wide, but he wasn’t looking back. His eyes were focused on the bathroom doors ahead, his jaw clenched, gorgeous green eyes shadowed by his black eyeliner.

“Dom, what are you doing?” You began to plead, uncomfortably aware of the fact that you were about to walk into a bathroom with your boyfriend in front of the whole restaurant. You glanced around, checking for any cameras or onlooking eyes. There were none in sight, but you knew that didn’t mean much.

Your head clobbered light as he pinned you to the stall, his eyes burning into your own. Your gaze faltered, looking everywhere but him. Normally sex with Dom never made you nervous, he had always managed to make you feel safe and comfortable, but going from complete silence to being pinned against a stall in The Olive Garden so abruptly made you timid. His hand pressed down on your shoulder, your legs bending until your knees hit the tiled floor, staring up at him through your lashes. Dom hastily unbuttoned his pants, maintaining his gaze, er, glare on you. Your eyes flickered from his own to his hard dick springing from its constraints, watching as he stroked himself achingly slow before his tip slid past your lips, sliding himself across your tongue a few times, his head leaning back as he felt the warmth of your mouth surround him.

You hollowed out your cheeks, eyes remaining on his expression. When you reached up to replace his hand with your own you felt a harsh tug on your hair. It took you a moment to realize what he wanted from you, but when you realized you let your jaw go slack. Dom’s hand remained wrapped around the base of his cock, shoving it down your throat unexpectedly, causing you to gag.

Your mouth hung open, weary not to let your teeth scrape against him as he thrust into your mouth. You pulled back a bit as you gagged, your head lightly hitting against the wall behind you. Dom continued to push forward, his hard cock pushing farther and farther back in your throat. You were pinned between his thrusting hips and the bathroom stall, you had no choice but to let him fuck your throat.

Not that you were complaining.

Well, you couldn’t.

You gagged around him, hands coming up to grip at his hips as he continued to use your mouth to get himself off, angelic moans falling from his plush lips.

Dom finally took mercy on you, pulling away and grabbing your chin with his thumb and forefinger, staring down at you.

“You look so pretty gagging on my dick.” He says, wiping the tear coming from your eye. His hand makes its way down to your neck, wrapping around it and pulling you to your feet.

“Or maybe it’s just that fucking skirt.” He adds, slapping your thigh before lifting the skirt up to reveal your lace underwear. A groan slips past his lips, bringing his fingers against your core. You let out a sigh of relief as his fingers rubbed against your clit, glad to finally get some relief after all this time. It was short lived, though, as he pulled you to your feet using the grip he had on your throat, tilting your head up to look at him.

The air around you seemed to freeze, your eyes roamed eachothers faces, desperate for one another. His lips came against yours slowly and then all at once, his hand remaining around your throat as his tongue slipped its way into your mouth. The hand that wasn’t wrapped around your throat remained between your legs, working steadily at making your legs shake for him.

It was almost embarrassing how ready you were for him, so needy that the slightest touch beckoned a whine. Things became heated again quickly, his hands moving from your neck to your thighs, a quick hop before you wrapped them around his waist.

Dom reached between your legs, trying his best to move the material without dropping you, eventually giving in and letting you do it instead. Reaching between your legs, you wrapped your hand around him, lining his hard dick up with your aching core. He paused there for a moment, enjoying the feeling before pushing himself in. His lips reconnected with your own, thrusting into you a few times before sighing and setting you back to the floor. Your eyebrows furrowed up at him, unsure what to do before he was spinning your around, pinning your face against the wall. You felt him slide between your lips once more before pushing in. It took him a moment to find his rhythm, but soon you were being pounded against the bathroom stall, pathetic moans falling from both your lips, Your senses clouded by pleasure leaving you completely lost to your surroundings.

You would have to be petty more often.

#Yungblud #yungblud smut #yungblud fanfic #yungblud x reader #dominic harrison smut #dominic harrison angst #dominic harrison fanfic #dominic harrison x reader #yungblud angst #submission

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hopeshoodie · 4 years ago

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Part 7 of my Pros and Cons of dating the different islanders (yes I’m finally coming back to this :P)

Gary

Cons

He doesn’t have a whole lot of thoughts about things that he’s not actively excited or annoyed by, and he doesn’t really feign interest. If MC buys a new top, or is invested in a new show, or anything that Gary doesn’t really care about, he’ll really disinterestedly say “that’s cool babe,” and make her feel like it’s unimportant. He’s not patronizing/embarrassing her on purpose, he just doesn’t have a lot of tact. You would have to really talk to him and work with him to get him out of this habit, because he doesn’t see how it’s hurtful or care that much to change.

He gets really defensive. If you call him out on his behavior or point out how he’s really stubborn, he’ll argue with you without really considering if his behavior is bad. Arguments with Gary suck because it gets to a point where he’s not hearing you and will just say “whatever” and refuse to engage. The best way to change Gary’s behavior is some pavlovian shit- you need to offer positive reinforcement without him really noticing. When he communicates really well, shower him with affection. When he picks up after himself, tell him how much you appreciate it.

He’s very willing to walk away from things that challenge him instead of trying to grow as a person. We saw that with him and Lottie- whenever she or MC offered valid criticism of his behavior he would just walk away. That applies to most areas of his life- if he tries a new hobby and isn’t good at it immediately he’ll drop it. He doesn’t really like trying new things or going to new places, and if something challenges his worldview he’s more likely to ignore it than engage.

I’ve said this already but he buys MC heart shaped jewelry and pandora charm bracelets...

Gary’s a lad. While he doesn’t intend to hurt anyone’s feelings, he never really engaged with social justice issues and he hasn’t done the work needed to be anti-racist. He’ll laugh along to sexist, racist, homophobic, and ableist jokes without really thinking about the implication. He’s loath to call anyone out. If MC points out ‘hey that thing you/your friend said is hurtful,” he’ll get defensive and say “why are you ruining a good time? It was just a joke” If MC sits down and explains to him how the things he says are actively hurting her, he’ll internalize that and not do it. But he’s really hesitant to say the same to other people- he doesn’t want to ‘ruin the mood’ and get made fun of for being ‘PC’.

Gary’s super dense. He doesn’t really pick up hints very well, so MC needs to explicitly tell him “I need you to compliment this dress” or “we haven’t gone on a proper date in awhile and I’m feeling undesired, can we go out for dinner tomorrow?” I firmly believe that the reason Gary tolerated all of Lottie’s passive aggressiveness was because he didn’t pick up on it, so MC needs to be direct.

He doesn’t appreciate all the effort it takes to get all dolled up, even though he loves it when MC goes all out. I know he SAYS he doesn’t like high maintenance women, but in canon when given the choice between Hannah (seemingly low maintenance) and Marisol (very outgoing and done up), he chooses the higher-maintenance option. Every woman he dated on the show was a glam kind of girl- MC, Lottie, Marisol. So while he loves when MC has a full face and outfit done, he complains about how long it takes her and how she always sneaks away for touch ups during the night. He’s one of those dudes who is like “wow you’re so pretty without makeup” but you’re literally wearing foundation, contour, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, blush- he thinks the difference between makeup and not wearing any makeup is red lipstick. This is super annoying because MC puts a lot of effort into her look only for him to downplay that effort but still enjoy the results.

Building off of the above, Gary severely underestimates how much effort it takes to do “domestic work” like cooking, cleaning, and administrating for the household (I imagine pre-MC he forgets to do the basics like renew licenses, register to vote, schedule appointments, etc). So if MC points out how she spent the whole day cleaning, he’ll be like “that seems a bit much? You just cleaned the kitchen?” and doesn’t really get it until MC breaks down “I swept and washed the floor, I disinfected the dishwasher, I ran cleaners through the sink link, I cleaned out and organized the fridge, I dusted and sanitized the chandelier, I organized the spice drawer, I wiped out the cabinets…” He’s not really motivated to learn how to clean or do laundry or cook.

He doesn’t communicate. This is canon- he doesn’t tell Lottie where his head is at in the game, he strings Lottie and Hannah along, and he doesn’t reassure MC when other girls are clearly cracking on with him. So most of the problems in a relationship with Gary come from MC not knowing what he wants and him never initiating emotionally vulnerable conversations.

He’s not going to do well if MC needs to travel a lot for work, and he’s not going to move to live with her. Even after his nan dies, I don’t see him leaving Chatham. So if moving to a new place is important to you, this is a dealbreaker.

Pros

If something goes really wrong, he’ll never do the same thing twice. This applies to physical mistakes as well as emotional- if he forgets to wear eye protection and gets sawdust in his eyes, he’ll be religious about wearing glasses from them on. If he forgets a birthday or anniversary and makes MC cry, he will be SO diligent from then on about remembering dates. On that thought, he HATES seeing MC cry. He will move heavens and earth to stop whatever’s upsetting her or fix it.

Hugs and cuddling from Gary? So comforting. He just has that vibe, like he’s a really good cuddler. Not to mention that he’s really good at the nasty in canon, so it would stand to reason………

All of that internalized masculinity has an upside- he wants to take care of his family. He’s on top of all the ‘masculine’ caretaking stuff like buying a home, maintaining the landscaping, fixing the tires on the vehicles, shoveling, fixing stuff up around the house, managing the cable/internet/tech. Which is nice because I hate doing those things, but also I’m absolutely teaching him how to do laundry and pick up after himself.

Gary is SO calm in emergency situations. I have this headcanon for Rahim too, but the more panicked those around them get, the calmer they are. Especially in situations where they’ve prepared/considered before like tornadoes or floods. They’re not the kind of guys who take the lead normally, but in these super dire situations they find it in them to take over and calm everyone else down. I can see him having a lowkey stockpile of food, an emergency first aid kit, and a go-bag.

I know people don’t like this headcanon, but too bad. Gary is catholic. That’s the law. Sorry I don’t make the rules. That’s not so much of a pro for me, an atheist nihilist lesbian, but I can recognize a religious man has a certain amount of charm. He has a close knit community, is super consistent about attending services, and has a certain level of taking morals really seriously. He definitely donates a fair bit to charity and is always the one saying “love thy neighbor” when people are being shitty.

Gary’s spontaneous, but in a controlled way. He very much likes his routine and respects MC’s need for consistency. But periodically he’ll just be like “we have nothing planned for today- want to go rent a paddleboat?” or he’ll pick up flowers “just because”. If MC and he are going on a vacation, he much prefers to only plan 1 or 2 things to do a day and then once they’re in the place see interesting things and suggest ‘let’s do that’. He’ll do really thoughtful stuff like text MC if she has anything planned for dinner then randomly bring her favorite restaurant food home. Thursday nights are date nights!! Doing formal ‘dress up nice and go to a proper dinner date without the kids and movie’ is really important to him.

Gary’s a really good dad. Like yeah he has a lot to learn about not telling his son to ‘stop crying’ and not telling his daughter ‘no boys until you’re married’, but he genuinely wants the best for them. He’s really supportive of their hobbies/sports/interests, and will happily pay for summer camp/field trips/conventions. He might not ‘get it’ all the time, but he’ll smile and nod.

He gets a lot of delight out of really little things. If his kid draws something for him, he’ll pin it to the fridge and smile at it every time he sees it without fail. If MC says she likes a certain shirt on him, he’ll triple the amount of times he wears it. He keeps the bird feeders outside their dining room window full, because he can happily sit with a cup of coffee and watch the birds for hours. It truly is the little things.

He’s really good at remembering MC’s favorite things, or even things she mentioned liking once. This is to the point where it’s a bit confusing. MC will compliment Gary’s nan on her christmas poinsettias one year, then two years later Gary buys a ton of poinsettias and is like “I thought you loved poinsettias” and not be able to remember why he thought that. So MC has to be careful with fake compliments, because Gary cannot tell the difference. But that’s still, like, super endearing and nice of him.

There’s a few LIs that I feel like could get bored in a long-term relationship. I can see Lucas, Felix, and Rahim feeling like they’re ‘falling out of love’ when the intensity of a new relationship fades and they struggle to settle into domesticity. Gary is NOT one of them. He’s one of those “I fall in love with you more every single day” kind of guys. As MC gains weight/ages, he’ll insist “you age like a fine wine” and “I like you more with meat on your bones”. He’ll insist to their kids that “your mom is the most beautiful woman on earth”. Gary was built for long-term relationships.

#pros and cons #headcanons

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