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kamotoshi · 4 years ago

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intent [kamo noritoshi x reader]

pairing: kamo noritoshi (the good one) x sorcerer! fem reader

genre: fluff, comfort

warnings: the whole story revolves around the reader being injured so there are brief mentions of medication, pain, and injuries; toshi bein a headass

word count: 3.7k

overview: you have to wonder what your best friend’s intentions are when he’s gone out of his way to visit you during every day of your recovery, no matter how busy he is

On one of the walls surrounding you, the clock’s hand shifts from one minute to the next. Through the speakers of your laptop, the movie you’ve stopped paying attention to long ago drones on in the background. Instead of focusing on the plot, you’ve taken to gazing out the window, watching the lush foliage outside painted vivid oranges and blues by the sunlight breaking through dark clouds dance in the breeze, as if celebrating the end of yet another spring shower. It feels hard to remember the last time you went for a walk outside—or anywhere, for that matter—and the more you think about how painful it is to be bedridden and out of action, the more you start to feel the dull, seemingly constant aches laying siege to your exhausted body.

Thankfully, the sound of the door to your temporary living quarters opening and closing again distracts you from your depressing thoughts, and, instead, makes your heart flutter with hope. Plastic crinkling, fabric shifting, and footsteps padding along the floor reach your ears next before a tall and familiar figure appears in the doorway to the bedroom. There’s a moment’s hesitation on his journey into the room, as if he’d been worried about disturbing you, but he continues with confidence when he sees you’re awake and expecting him.

With a small smile, you greet him, “Hey, ‘Toshi.”

“Hey,” he replies, “how are you feeling?” The long sleeves of his loose-fitting robes flutter behind him like a butterfly’s wings as he wanders over to the chair beside the bed you’ve been confined to for the past few days.

You shrug, glancing down at the bandages peeking out from beneath the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m alright, I guess.”

His eyes dart from the screen of your laptop to your own gaze, then back again. With furrowed brows, he adds, “What are you watching?”

“I wish I could tell you.”

“What’s the point of putting something on if you’re not gonna watch it? What else were you even doing?” he questions.

A scoff echoes from your throat at the fact that you’ve become the sudden subject of an unnecessary interrogation over such a trivial topic, but you can’t help the wry chuckle that follows upon noticing his unfazed expression. As usual, he doesn’t see the issue in such small debates. “I always could leave it to you to argue about the most irrelevant things.” In spite of the dull, warning pain that pangs in the side of your torso, you reach over to move your fingers over your laptop’s trackpad, but Noritoshi quickly stops you and does the job for you.

“Has everyone here been taking care of you while I’ve been gone?” is his next, surprisingly relevant question.

Leaning back against the pillows propped up behind you should give your body a sense of ease, but after spending so much time in one spot, you’re desperate to do the opposite instead. “Yeah. They’ve been checking in on me and bringing me food and painkillers, so I can’t complain.” Your lips curl into a small, devious grin when you mention, “You know, I went on a walk around the place with one of your servants and he told me all these funny stories about you when you were little, including the one where you accidentally gave yourself an awful haircut and refused to leave home without a hat.”

Self-consciously, he fingers the wrappings holding his dark strands of hair together, mindlessly beginning to unravel them. Though his attention is conveniently directed at the computer screen, you can see the blush that dusts his cheeks before his hair falls in front of his face when he removes its bindings. As much as you want to tease him over the event that had happened during his childhood, you find yourself at a brief loss for words at how he looks now. The way your heart thrums just a bit faster and harder is undeniable and fills your body with a different kind of pain, since you wonder if he’s ever looked at you the same way you’re looking at him.

Tracing over the handsome features of his face with your gaze, resisting the urge to separate the kinks in his hair from being held together so tightly all day, hoping you become the center of his attention again.

“You know we have movies here, right?”

His comment abruptly interrupts your thoughts, and you clear your throat before shooting back a, “What?”

“The one you’re watching is horrible.”

“Oh? And how would you know?”

He purses his lips and glances over at you out of the corner of his eye. There’s a somewhat uncomfortable pause before he blurts out, “A friend.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” you retort with a snicker.

You swear you see a hint of a smile playing at his lips as he sits back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I’ll bring back a better one from my room for us to watch after I go and change.” When his dark eyes meet with yours, there’s a tinge of something indiscernible in them. Sadnesss, regret, maybe a bittersweet kind of relief? It reminds you of how he’d first looked at you when he’d helped you into the bed in which you lie now.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” You shake your head. “Alright. I picked some stuff up from the store. I’ll be back to cook in ten minutes.” He frowns at the shocked expression that appears across your face at the mention of him cooking, since it’s such a rare occasion—due mostly to his lack of skill in the area—and rises to his feet once more. He does, however, extend his hand toward you and say, “Come on, I’ll help you into the other room since I know you’d be too worried sitting in here while I make us something to eat.”

A coy smile forms across your lips as you shove the covers aside, exposing your legs clad in sweatpants to the cool air in the room. “You know me so well, don’t you?” is the remark you send his way in a facetious manner that only fuels Noritoshi’s chagrin. His hand feels incredibly warm against yours when he grabs it to help you out of your confinement in the shape of a memory foam mattress, and you tighten your grip around it as your legs tremble with fatigue. Moving closer to you, he allows you to wrap your arms around one of his to support yourself, bringing your body flush against his

“Eight years.”

“Huh?” Your eyes, which had been formerly directed at the floor to mask the effects of your racing heart, shoot upwards toward him.

His eyebrows furrow in that judgmental, what do you mean ‘huh’? type of look he always made and wondered why others recoiled at the sight of it. “That’s how long we’ve known each other, so it’s no wonder why I know you so well.”

Giving his arm a playful squeeze, you shoot back, “Didn’t know you’d been keeping count.”

“It’s basic math.”

“’Toshi… you’re so, brutally honest. No wonder I’m, like, your only friend.”

“So?” he murmurs, arm dipping to support you, then lifting once more when your leg nearly gives out on you, “I’d rather have you than anyone else.”

The way he lets what he’s just said be known in his unabashedly straightforward manner of speaking, without tacking any other comments on to verify his intentions are purely platonic sends a wave of comforting warmth washing over you. Over the years, you’ve known him for his sometimes abrasively candid nature, but you’ve always appreciated that he’s never left you to question the value he places on your friendship. In spite of his shy tendencies that seemed to be limited mostly to interactions with you when the two of you had first become friends, he’d never been one to beat around the bush—and he still didn’t now.

Though you’ve always assumed his comments like the one he’d just made were meant in a friendly way, you can’t help but wonder if maybe there is something he’s not being forthcoming about. If maybe his more relaxed pace while walking with you accompanied by his lingering touch as he helps you onto the couch is his way of prolonging the time during which he gets to be closer to you. If maybe the subtle softness to his expression while he watches you settle is a result of love rather than just a superficial level of concern. If maybe him opening his clan’s estate to you as a refuge where you could safely recover had been done out of a deeper affection he harbored for you instead of his own guilt at not being able to protect you in the situation that had led to your injury.

But these are speculations you force into the back of your mind out of the fear you’re being imaginative and presumptuous. Surely, if he’d felt anything more than friendship towards you, he would’ve said something by now… right? It’s getting harder to believe with each visit he spends at your bedside, falling asleep with his head on your shoulder while he’s sitting beside you or resting by your legs as he slumps over onto the bed from where he sits in his chair. Seeing him go out of his way to support you, as he’s doing now while he stands in front of the stove—glaring at all the ingredients before him like he’s attempting to intimidate them into making a meal out of themselves—doesn’t help rid you of your persistent thoughts either.

Thankfully, you’re able to find a bit of distraction through conversation with him about his day. Between your glances over at him, you take to staring out the window, watching the rain come pounding down against the earth once more. Unbeknownst to you, Noritoshi finds his eyes on your form each time he looks up from what he’s doing, but they flicker back to the task at hand upon noticing your head turn back to keep a careful watch on him. Unfortunately, the moment you smell good food is when you let your guard down, and it’s not until there’s a haze in the room that you realize you’ve had too much faith in him.

Tearing your gaze away from the flowers Tōdō had brought you earlier in the morning, you shoot a pointed look over your shoulder at where Noritoshi stands in the kitchen. “Noritoshi, the food’s burning.”

“No, it’s still cooking,” is his swift response laced with confidence, as is usual for him. There’s a loud sizzle when he nudges whatever’s in the skillet onto the other side, sending another plume of smoke upwards

“It’s literally smoking.”

With a sigh, he turns on the fan above the oven and quells the flame beneath the pan with a turn of one of the knobs. Rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, he prods rather cautiously at what you can only assume is a lump of coal with a fork. You don’t need to see his face to know that he’s realized the error of his ways, since his broad shoulders slump ever so slightly. You’re sure part of him wants desperately to say that it’s not that bad, but you only hear the grating sound of him chipping away at the scorched food.

It’s hard to keep a straight face, especially when he turns away from the disastrous attempt at cooking to face you and ask:

“So, what do you want to eat for dinner?”

Your answer to his question finds a box of your favorite food in your lap about a half hour later, and him close by your side as the two of you eat and watch one of the movies he’d brought over from his room. With the darkness of the sky outside and the warmth residing inside you both at having enjoyed a meal much more pleasant than the one he’d tried and failed to make, it’s no wonder you find him dozing off. And it’s only a matter of time before his head comes to rest against your shoulder—an action you can only assume was done unintentionally in his sleep, but that sends heat rising up to your face anyway.

As much as you enjoy having him close and feeling his deep breaths tickle your collarbone, you decide to nudge him back into consciousness after about fifteen minutes of letting him snooze in case he wants to go back to his own room.

“’Toshi…?”

“Hey,” he murmurs nearly unintelligibly, “are you okay? Do you need anything?” The level of concern in his voice and the questions he asks before his eyes have even fluttered open make it challenging to hide the grin that threatens to spread across your lips. Your noses nearly brush when he lifts his head, and the small squeak you nearly let out soon morphs into a gentle chuckle at the way he blinks slowly and knits his brows together with confusion as he tries to regain his bearings.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you assure him, “I’m fine. I was just wondering if you wanted to go to bed.”

He frowns. “Maybe,” is his reply exhaled in a deep sigh as he stands so he can offer you his hand once more. “C’mon, I’ll help you back to the bedroom.”

There’s a somewhat heavy silence in the air after you thank him and latch onto his arm to steady yourself. Whereas his lack of chattiness is most likely from his own fatigue weighing heavily on him, yours stems from one of the many questions that’s been lingering in your mind. With the way he’d been going out of his way to assist you and keep you company between his missions, you can’t help but wonder what his true intentions are—and if he’ll tell you when asked. You don’t know if you can bring yourself to ask, however, and your own self-consciousness keeps you quiet while he helps you back into your temporary bed yet again.

He lingers, though, almost as if he can sense you have something on your mind with the way you’ve gone silent. So, he takes a seat beside you on the plush mattress and places his hands in his lap. The flash of lightning that brings a slow, rumbling roar of thunder along with it distracts him for a moment and his fingers grip each other tightly. He hates thunderstorms, and you’re one of the only people who know. In a movement that feels instinctual, you reach for his hand, sending a soft smile his way when he slides his clammy palm between your warm ones.

Maybe it’s because you know he’s feeling just as vulnerable as you are—which is a rare occasion with the walls he’s built up around his more personal thoughts and feelings—but words start rolling off your tongue before you can stop them.

“Say, ‘Toshi?” you ask. He hums in response, the low tone of his voice nearly lost beneath the rhythmic thrumming of rain crashing down against the roof. “Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?” Though his words were laced with exhaustion not that long ago, he seems much more alert now. Whether it’s his fear or his intrigue, you’re unsure, but his eyes meeting yours makes your breath hitch in your throat for a moment. The way you’re acting now brings a question you don’t intend on voicing to the forefront of your mind: How did I manage to deny my feelings for so long?

But the one you ask is: “Why are you doing all this for me?”

His brow raises. “What do you mean?” In a manner that’s comedic to you, he glances around the room, looking for whatever it is you’re referencing.

“I mean everything. Letting me stay here, taking care of me when you’re here, baking me dessert; hell, you even tried to cook me dinner.” Another clap of thunder gives you pause, and his fingers tighten around one of your hands. “So, what’s all this for?”

Brushing a few strands of raven-colored hair away from his face with his unoccupied fingers, he states, “I wanted to be the one to take care of you.”

Your face tingles with prickles of heat at his comment, but the sensation fades slightly when you notice his gaze has dropped to his lap and he’s allowed his bangs to shroud his expression. He doesn’t have the look of determination or even adoration in his eyes of someone who’s ready to confess their feelings. No, he looks guilty.

“Why?”

He fills his lungs with a deep breath that he releases in a drawn-out sigh before answering, “Because if I hadn’t suggested we split up during that mission, then this wouldn’t have happened to you.” The warm feeling of hope that had been swelling in your heart grows cold, like a flame extinguished by an icy gust of wind. “I needed to be the one to take care of you since I got you into this mess. This whole thing was my fault.”

“Oh, I see.” The biting undertones of your words don’t go unnoticed by him like they might normally would, since he lifts his head to look at you. With a shrug, you snap, “So you’re only doing all this to clear your guilty conscience, then?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” is his rebuttal spoken with brows furrowed.

“What the hell else was that supposed to mean, then? How was I meant to take that? Because to me it just sounds like you’re doing this to make yourself feel better.”

He shakes his head in an act of irritation toward himself. “Yes, I feel guilty, but that’s not the main reason why I’m doing this.”

“What, did you do it to be seen as a hero? An amazing sorcerer who’s also an admirable friend? Someone capable of doing the right thing?” you retort sarcastically, the sting of rejection parading as rage tainting your tongue.

“I’m doing it because I love you!”

In the long, somewhat awkward silence that follows his confession, you almost expect his face to fall. For him to realize that he’d revealed something that he hadn’t meant to. Or, worse, for him to tack the condition, “as a friend,” onto the end of it.

But the honesty in his dark eyes doesn’t waver. He doesn’t turn away and mutter about wishing he hadn’t said what he did. He doesn’t backtrack to revise his confession in a way that would keep you safely in the friend zone.

Instead, he says it again with the same level of confidence: “I love you.”

And adds, “More than I think you understand.”

His grip around your hand tightens in a gentle manner different to the fear with which he’d clutched it before with each flash of lightning outside. “You… do?” you whisper as your heart begins to ache in the tight vise of regret you now feel at your outburst. He nods without hesitation in response, and a small tug on his sleeve beckons him closer to you, driving away the chill in the air between your bodies.

For a moment, neither of you move, and, instead, gaze at each other as if your eyes are speaking silent reassurances. Despite the confident nature of his words, his actions are somewhat timid, since you don’t feel his breath fan across your face until you cup his in your hands. But, as soon as you utter those same words in return and press your lips to his, he kisses away any lingering doubts or worries, as well as your quiet apologies. While the storm rages on outside, you can only hear your own heartbeat and the short breaths you take between each tender yet passionate meeting of your lips. It feels as if a great deal of time has passed before you pull away, and you’re grateful for every second of it.

Without so much as a second thought, you make yourself at home in his arms already wrapped around you, resting your head in the crook of his neck. His warmth envelops you when he carefully tightens his grip around you to avoid hurting you, and any pain you’d felt earlier seems to dissipate in the glow of happiness and overwhelming relief that have taken its place. Noritoshi nestles his face against the side of yours, and his body steadily becomes heavier against yours until the peace is disturbed by another roar sounding from the skies above.

“This storm’s not letting up anytime soon,” he sighs, “Want me to stay here with you?”

Before you can even answer, he starts peeling back the covers and settling himself down in bed beside you. And in spite of your heart fluttering with joy at the thought of him spending the night with you, the opportunity to tease him is too enticing for you to let it slip away. “Why would I need you to stay here with me, huh?”

As usual, however, he’s unnerved by your attempt at catching him off-guard, and calmly replies, “In case the power goes out or you can’t sleep because of all the noise, obviously.”

A wry chuckle bubbles in your throat as you lie down beside him and move the side of your head onto his chest. “Obviously. Where would I be without you here to take care of me? I’m very lucky to have someone as diligent as you are by my side, aren’t I?” you simper.

His fingers interlace with the ones you have resting on his torso running absentmindedly along the soft fabric of his sweater. Giving your hand a tender squeeze and pausing a moment to admire the way your palm fits into his, he murmurs, “I think I’m the lucky one.”

Your last statement had been delivered somewhat facetiously but seeing the way his cheek comes to rest against the pillow so he can look over at you with only pure, unwavering honesty makes you add, in a more serious tone, “That makes two of us, then.”

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kamo noritoshi x reader #noritoshi x reader #tw injury

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interstellarflare · 4 years ago

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Bend and Break || Homelander

-PART ONE-

Warnings: Gore, violence, course language, angst.

Summary: People can only bend their morales so far before they break. Homelander is the world’s greatest superhero, and you, a tech analyst, somehow become entangled in his world when he learns that you provide intel to The Boys. He makes it his personal mission to find out exactly what you know, but he never expected such resistance from someone as damaged as you. But broken things can be mended, sometimes in the most unexpected ways possible.

Author’s Note: As a bit of a disclaimer, I have only seen snippets of The Boys. I haven’t actually watched all of it, so forgive me if there are some details that are wrong, as well as the many spelling errors that will undoubtedly be in this series. There is a tag list open for those who wish to be added. Gif by @stream

You had no idea how you ended up providing intel for The Boys. You didn’t even know how they managed to find you.

You were a nobody, a nobody who so happened to be very knowledgeable around technology. You hacked into secure companies that were affiliated with The Seven, media outlets, private companies and the like, and gained whatever information you could before passing it on to the leader of The Boys himself, Billy Butcher. He stopped by your apartment at random hours during the day and night, giving you set deadlines to complete certain assignments before he came to retrieve the intel. No one knew who you were. You were so mysterious in fact, that the general public had even given you a name. The Watcher.

Not long after you were given your name, The Seven were notified of your existence. Madelyn Stillwell explained to The Seven that their servers had been hacked, and several files of important information had been taken in a matter of seconds. It was a serious security breach, and Madelyn wanted whoever did this killed. Homelander couldn’t help but agree. He volunteered to personally to do it himself, to a send a message to The Boys. It would be a good publicity stunt. If The Watcher was stopped, then The Boys would lose their only source of information. Plus, the public would love him even more.

But unfortunately for you, you had made a mistake. Vought International traced the IP address to your apartment a few days after your cyber attack, and Homelander was en route within the hour. It was a shitty apartment complex, fitting he supposed, for one who would commit such a crime against him and his colleagues. A huge uproar occurred outside the building, drawing your attention toward the ground floor. When your eyes met the form of the famous superhero waving to the adoring crowd as he entered through the lobby, a string of disgusting curses escaped your lips. There was no point in running, he could catch up easily. There was no point in hiding, the fucker could see through walls. There was nothing you could do except panic internally, and hope that maybe Billy and the others knew about this conundrum.

Before you had another second to think, heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, eventually stopping in front of your apartment door. You stood in the centre of your apartment, debating whether or not to open the door and atop that horrendous knocking, or answering Billy’s distress call on your laptop. If you made a run for your laptop, he would know. There was no doubt that the son of a bitch was using his x-ray vision to watch you sweat. He was probably reviling in the fact that he had caught you, and that there was nowhere for you to go. Regretfully and hesitantly, you moved towards the door, steadying your breath before throwing it open. You swallowed thickly as your gaze met Homelander’s blue hues, as he stared down at you with that stupid fake Hollywood smile of his. With his hands braced on his hips in that cliche superhero stance, he pointed accusingly at you, trying to keep up his heroic image as a crowd began to gather in the hall. “You, are one hard person to find Miss L/n...” he began, laughing mockingly as the crowd gathered around your apartment door.

Your eyes flickered around the crowd, some tenants you recognised, others you didn’t. Biting your lips nervously, your shrugged your shoulders as calmly and nonchalantly as you could. “I like to keep it that way...” you responded confidently, holding his gaze despite your growing fear “to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”. Homelander grinned, and without saying a word, he pushed past you into your apartment, his eagle shoulder pad deliberately knocking you out of the way. You clenched your jaw, giving the gathered crowd one last warning glare before slamming the door in their faces. You heard several muffled shouts, and hushed voice talking. What could Homelander possibly want with her? What makes her so special?

“So, you are The Watcher?” He spoke tauntingly, folding his arms intimidatingly over his chest as you turned to face him. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you nodded slowly, your eyes landing on your laptop screen once again. Billy was still trying to contact you, and it was by sheer dumb luck that the tyrant in front of you didn’t notice. Homelander’s eyes narrowed, glowing a faint red as he approached “You know, you’ve done a very bad thing...” he spoke lowly, moving so close to you that your back hit your apartment door with a loud thump. Homelander could hear your heart beating rapidly in your chest, though your breath came out even and slow. “I want back what you stole from Vought International, now” he growled stepping closer so that there was barely any space left between you. You looked up at the superhero in front of you with a shrug of your shoulders, slipping out of that small space and making your way over to your laptop.

“Sorry, but I don’t have it anymore...” you responded blatantly, pressing the ‘decline’ button to Billy’s call. Homelander’s eyes returned to their normal blue out of shock, as he turned to face you bewilderedly. You leaned against the desk beside your laptop, your head tilted to the side in an almost carefree nature. In a matter a seconds, your demeanour had changed entirely. How? You were just terrified of him...he could hear your heart beating like crazy. “I’m sorry, what?...” he asked in disbelief “where is it then?”. “It’s long gone by now, The Boy’s probably have it now, so I don’t think you’ll be getting it back anytime soon”. How dare you. He was Homelander, the world’s greatest superhero, how dare you, a mere human speak to him this way. Downplaying your words, you watched as Homelander’s expression darkened, before he used his superhuman speed to suddenly appear before you in a burst of wind. You released a sharp cry as Homelander gripped your forearm, using his superhuman strength to apply agonising pressure to your limb. You winced, tears flowing freely from your eyes as he leaned forward, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear.

“I’ve changed my mind, I don’t even want the information anymore...” he began, tightening his grip which made you release a pained cry “I just want Billy Butcher. Now, I know you have contact with him. If you don’t tell me where he is in the next five seconds, I’m going to break your arm”. You shrieked, trying to pry your arm from his grip to no avail. “Five..” Homelander began, slowly squeezing your arm “four-”

“I don’t know where he is! I’m telling the truth!” “I don’t believe you, three...” He continued, as you screamed for him to let you go. You squirmed, you kicked, you tried anything and everything to get him to let go. “Two...” he whispered tauntingly, no doubt enjoying your pain. You were panicking by now. What could you do? What could you say to get him to believe you? “STOP! He comes by my apartment at random times of the day and night. There isn’t a set schedule, that’s all I know I swear!”. Silence enveloped the apartment, the only sound heard was your soft cries as the pain in your forearm became unbearable. But just like that, it disappeared as Homelander released you from his hold. You collapsed to the floor of your apartment, sobbing quietly as you held your arm to your chest. Through your tearful gaze, you could already see your arm starting to bruise, the vibrant red slowly turning to a deep purple.

Heavy footsteps approached as Homelander knelt down before you. Cupping the side of your face with his gloved hand, he lifted your head up to meet his gaze. With a small victorious smile, he spoke authoritatively “Then how about you and I make a little arrangement. I’ll stop by at random times of the day and night as well, that way, I’m bound to catch him at some point right? And when I do, I’ll kill you to set an example. How does that sound?”. You said nothing as Homelander stood up, his touch lingering as a silent promise to his threat. “Oh, and I forgot...” he called out, turning to face you with a smirk “Don’t even think about warning him, I’ll know” he continued, motioning to his ears in reference to his superhuman hearing before walking through your apartment door. As he disappeared through the adoring crowd still gathered outside, you began to sob loudly.

You had never been more terrified in your life. Your arm still hurt like hell as you trudged towards your phone, which had been vibrating non-stop the entire time. There were five missed calls from Billy, and about seven texts, all of them containing a stunning variety of swear words which you didn’t know existed.

‘Answer me damn it, fucking hell woman. What’s going on over there?’

Your hands trembled as you replied, your breath uneven as your heart thundered in your ears.

‘Not safe to talk. He knows’.

#homelander x reader #homelander #homelander imagine #the boys x reader #the boys #the boys imagine #antony starr

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bangteamhyuk · 4 years ago

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Moving On

Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Angst, Producer! Min Yoongi

Warning: mentions of sex, angst, contains heavy argument (One Shot)

Word count: 3,850k

Synopsis: You went back with Yoongi to your old apartment before moving on to the next. While cleaning, fixing, and rummaging all of the things inside, you two began to reminisce your life when you were still building your dreams together. Until he saw his old broken piano, then reality hits the two of you.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” you tried to catch your breath after rushing on to the stairs. Three floors were pretty tough for someone bringing cleaning tools, while hoping not to disappoint the person who was waiting for you for half an hour on the other end.

Yoongi turned around and crouched down a bit to see if you are fine “It’s okay. I’m sure you have reasons” He took the broomstick from your hand and put it together with the big vacuum cleaner he was holding. He paused for a moment and smiled at the sight of a white but clear oval diamond ring you were wearing. Your engagement rings.

You quickly blushed and turned away, flustered at the sight of Yoongi smiling at you. “Bunch of Min residents. Still cracks me up” you chuckled at the stick figure faces of you and Yoongi looking mean as the welcome door mat.

“Yeah, you thought of that” he pulled out the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door.

“But you were the one who drew those faces, Yoongi Matisse” you remarked as you fixed your hair. He scoffed as he put on his hairband.

“Ready to clean our stuff?” he asked. You nodded.

Yoongi went inside first and opened the curtain from the window on the front, giving light inside the studio apartment that were filled with dusts and memories. You followed. You turned around to see cobwebs around the table occupied with pictures, knick-knacks from all the travel you two had been, and even crumpled grocery receipts hidden on the side.

“5 good years huh?” you spoke, brushing your finger on the table to see how much dirt occurred over the years.

“Uhuh, 5 good years, and now we’re ready to move out Y/N” he replied.

“Look if we put the couch on the center, our visitor might think we’re bunch of couch potatoes. First impression last babe” you reasoned, as you sat beside Yoongi on the bare wooden floor of the room.

He shook his head “Y/N, I’m just saying that we needed to be reminded that it’s okay to rest once we get home, that’s why I was thinking that the couch should be there. Besides are we really going to admit and entertain guess here?” he gave you one tough argument that was hard not to consider.

“Ok fine, but what if I’m feeling a little frisky and want to do it while we watch TV? And then a burglar came from the door, right?” you turn to look at him with conviction in your eyes then continued “All I’m trying to say is that, putting it on the center have its disadvantage. Would you want your dick to be seen by a stranger, worse to a voyeur burglar?” you raised your arms and pointed it with your open palms at a non-existent couch against the other side of the empty room.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth in disgust “I can’t believe hearing this poor argument just to convince me in putting…” he paused then sighed “Fine, let’s put the TV and couch on the right side and the dinner table at the center” he conceded.

“Happy girlfriend equals happy life” you smiled at your victory. Yoongi turned to you and smiled dryly. You chuckled.

“We’re going to build our dreams here…” he spoke softly while staring at the open window in the midst of vacant space between the two of you. You stared at him and lingered for a moment.

“Yes, we will” you smiled, as you turned to stare at the open window as well, filling the bareness of the room with all your hopes and dreams together, as you closed your eyes.

“Achoo!” you sneezed as you open your eyes again, while patting the dusted couch and pulling the cushion seats out. Yoongi was mopping the hardwood floor, while you on the other hand was preparing to vacuum the old couch. Suddenly you saw something, you didn’t expect.

“Ugh Yoongi!” you burst into laughter. “What?” Yoongi quickly went towards you on the old couch as you pulled out something hidden underneath the seat.

“Your dried out condom! Ugh, gross!” you exclaimed as he grinned showing you his gummy smile that you love so dearly “I told you to put them to the trash, every time! Ugh! Good thing I found it before we sell these…” your face turned sour as you held on its tip and quickly tossed it on to the trash bin. “You know what, I think we should hand them over to the cleaners first before selling them. It’s been unused for 2 years…”

“You know for 5 years since we planned to put furniture on our place, I just realized we had a really great time with that couch” he stressed the world ‘really’ which made you blushed immediately, and well a bit annoyed at the same time. “Not once did we had any visitor, not even that voyeur burglar you were talking about” he raised one of his eye brow and smirked.

You quickly pulled out the dusted pillow and threw at him. “What? I’m just saying it wouldn’t matter if we put it on the center or not.” he laughed.

“Okay, Nostradamus. Let’s get back to business. I have book signing to attend to later” you turned your back to continue cleaning the couch while you heard him chuckle once more and resumed to mop the floor.

“What’s this surprise?” you tried to reach out for something, while Yoongi was making sure you can’t see anything through the blindfold.

“Take another two steps to the front. Here. Great. Now! The big reveal!” he slowly opened the blindfold as he showed you his D-I-Y wooden desk situated beside the apartment’s lone window.

“Happy birthday Y/N!” You gasped. “You made these? Even the succulents on the desk?” you hurriedly went to your new work desk and examined everything over and underneath it. You opened one of the drawers and saw a 20-dollar cat design fountain pen you’ve been eyeing for weeks in the department store “Yoongi, thank you!” you held it to your chest.

“Well, I did the wood work but not the succulents. I just..” he scratched the back of his neck. “add that for a little touch, you know, something to ease your stress when writing stories”

You quickly ran up to him for a kiss. “Yoongi, thank you! I love it! I love you!” he grinned.

“Can you kiss me again? Maybe deepen it?” you obliged, but parted for a second. “But if my work space is on the window then… where is yours?” you asked.

He shrugs. “I can stay at our bed. I mean, I’m sure you don’t make much sound when your busy so it’s okay. I just needed a laptop and my guitar to make music” you smiled weakly. “It’s really okay babe, it’s a win-win situation. Look at this way, if you put my workspace near the window, I might include unnecessary noise from the outside. This is great!” he hugged you tight, assuring you that all is well.

“We’ll make our dreams happen in this apartment, you and I” he kissed your forehead, reminding you that you are not alone in this city trying to make it big one day. “I’m here for you always Y/N”

“I’ll always be here for you too Yoongi. We will definitely make it happen” you closed your eyes, and rest your head on his chest. You two stayed like that for a while.

“How much do you think this desk would cost?” you tap the pen on your cheek.

“I deserve a $200 for this!” he pointed at the desk. “It took me a day to figure out how to assemble everything, and I had to scratch each side with a small sandpaper for an hour Y/N! An hour! Just so you wouldn’t get hurt over its sharp edges. So yes, I demand a $200 refund for this!” he raised his eyebrow to show you how much he protests at the thought of not being able to find a just compensation for his hard work.

“But Yoongi, it’s been used for over 3 years and unused for over 2, so expect it has some scratches around and the faint smell of old wood, so $100?” you examined the whole piece, while waiting for Yoongi to agree

He closed his eyes and shook his head “175!”

“150? Last price” you faced him.

“Fine. 150” he sighed, finally agreeing to the unjust price. You then wrote the price on the note pad.

Yoongi crouched down and rummaged through the piles of things on the floor, left untouched for 2 years and saw something familiar.

“Yoongi, what if we include the chair and then we can ask for $200 deal—” you stopped midway as you saw Yoongi pulled out his electric piano, all broken.

“Open the box babe!” you watched him open the huge ribbon and tore out the wrapper on the floor. You went to the table and refilled two glasses with cheap wine.

“Oh babe, you don’t have to” he gently pulled the brand new portable electric piano from the box.

“Happy 3rd anniversary!” you handed over his share of wine. As he pulled you down to where he sat, and you fell on his lap. “Oops, careful the wine might---” He didn’t even let you finish when he kissed you hard just to show you how grateful he was for the gift.

“Mmm…” you chuckled as you parted from the kiss and turn to the piano. You brushed your fingertips at the piano keys and smile “The greatest song of all time will be made here, in this piano. I’m claiming it!”

He hugged you tight as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “I definitely will. I love you so much!”

“You know, we can still have that fixed and sell it for…”

“No!” he exclaimed sternly. “I’ll keep it” he looked down; a bit embarrassed at his quick reaction.

You looked away, unsure what to say. You thought it was useless to keep something old and broken, but you guess it’s better that way. To let him keep a piece of you, the old you that he once knew.

“Congratulation’s Min Yoongi!” you popped the party pooper from the front door surprising Yoongi.

“Didn’t you see the live steam? The song I produced didn’t won” he closed the door and tossed the key to table.

“Doesn’t matter, the real winner is at home now! Yay!” you blew the party horn from his side, playfully tickling his ears. He brushed it down and pulled himself away, clearly annoyed.

You followed him still “It was great! The KMA failed to recognize it this year, who knows the next song you produ--- ”

“I don’t care about next year, or the next, and the next after that! It’s been 3 years, Y/N. 3 years since we’ve moved here and where has it gotten us? Nowhere!” he snapped.

You opened your mouth but quickly withdrew as you knew that saying anything further might make him more upset. “Baby, I…” you pulled him for a hug and gently stroke his back. “I understand how frustrated you are…” he shook his head and gently stepped away.

“No, you don’t. It’s easy for you to say, having a stable office job while you write as a hobby. But I only know how to produce music, it’s the only job I know! You don’t get to know, because you don’t have to rely for an award to know how good or shitty your stories are!” he snapped in anger.

You bit your lips and tried to process the situation, hoping you’ll say something to make him feel okay “Yoongi, I’m sorry that I don’t get to know that, but you know that I didn’t have much choice, but if I could I wanted to write full-time and you know that… We needed something on our table and---”

“So, it’s my fault now? That doing pizza delivery as part-time is not enough?” he didn’t even let you finished.

“I’m not saying that!” you finally cried, as you wiped your eyes with the back of your hands in frustration.

“Well then, tell me what? Because I find it hard to convince myself that it is not what you meant” he gave a sarcastic chuckle.

“Yoongi, why are we doing this? I’m just trying to help. Didn’t you say we’re going to make our dreams come true in this city, in this place, together!?”

“Well, you’re not helping, and clearly it isn’t happening.” He looked away as he took the opened bottle of wine you left on the table and chugged on it.

You looked to the ceiling and let out a long sigh “You know, I tried. For 3 years…” you nodded to yourself as you stared at the ceiling for a moment then at Yoongi. “I’ve seen you struggled. I’ve seen you succeed. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst. I saw you strive hard than anyone can in making songs, several of it! It was great, and I’m not just saying it because you’re my boyfriend but because I believe in you Yoongi. I believe in you, because I love you. I trust you no matter what, I trust that you’ll make it happen… Make US happen!” you paused.

“…But the way that’s been going lately? The way you pushed me aside, not wanting to talk things over. Having more arguments with you each day. Aren’t you tired? Instead of growing together, we’re just…growing apart!” you continued, shutting your eyes to the cold reality. You took a deep breath and pulled a glass from the kitchen sink and filled it water. You drank a glass full of it, hoping it’ll drown down the pain. He fell silent.

“You know what? Let’s…” you sighed at the thought “Break-up” you took your spare key and your bag hanging from the wall.

“Fine, leave!” he hit something aimlessly and heard a shriek of mismatched melody from the electric piano. You turned your back to see it, the electric piano you bought for him, broken and damaged. Like the way you and Yoongi are…

Silence.

You cleared your throat and began writing notes on your pad.

“When’s the wedding?” he turned to you while you sat a far from him.

“Next year, June 1st” you replied softly, resisting to look his way.

“Park Jimin’s a good guy…” he smiled weakly.

“He is.” You nodded. Then silence.

The only thing that broke the monotony of stillness between you and Yoongi within those four walls, was the sudden sound of a person knocking on the door from the other side. Yoongi slowly stood up, and went to the door to open and see who it was.

“Well, speak of the devil” he bit his lip and smiled at him. He wasn’t bitter or anything, in fact his smile was sincere after seeing what was in front of him, a genuine smile from you upon seeing the person you love, even if it was not him any longer.

He thought how bittersweet it was, to be someone looking through a window from the outside looking in, because he once knew what it feels like to be the source of your happiness. That smile he vividly recalls, even when he closed his eyes. Every outline, every mole, everything about you, he commits to memory even now that you’re gone.

“Are you ready for your book signing love?” Jimin chuckled.

“Did you get me food on the way?” you narrowed your prying eyes towards Jimin

He nodded “Cheeseburger with double patties, no onions but with extra pickles” he tilts his head to have you scoot over to his side.

You grinned, as you took your purse and ran towards Jimin. “See you tomorrow then? For the contract signing with Mrs. Song?” you turned your back to remind Yoongi.

Yoongi nods. “This apartment is already sold, so we just need our signatures to seal all deals”

“Mm, well, thanks. Congratulations by the way for winning KMA and MAMA for 2 consecutive years” you smiled.

“Well, the performer has a big participation to it too” he turned towards Jimin, as he shyly smiled and shook his head. “Hyung, really it’s the best music of all time!”

He raised his shoulder and looked at the dusted piano left on the floor “Not nearly, no…”

“Guess we’ll see each other around?” Jimin smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Yeah, see you” Yoongi smiled and watched you two leave.

Jimin helped you with your seatbelt as he pulled out something from the backseat.

“Iced Café Latte with grainy sugar for my beloved fiancé” he handed out

“How come you always knew the perfect time I want my coffee?” he shrugs.

“I’ve gotten some information” he winks at you and started the engine.

“Hyung, there you are. I’ve been looking for you” Jimin sat beside Yoongi under a cherry blossom outside their music studio office.

“It’s break time and it’s spring, when can I have my peace?” he turned away, looking annoyed.

“Well, I’ve been thinking if we can add more lyrics to this verse? And…” Yoongi’s phone suddenly rang to notify a text, as Jimin’s eyes widened when he saw his phone glow, displaying a photo of you that Yoongi took when you two were still together. “You know Y/N?”

“Yeah, why?” Yoongi tilt his head, clearly confused as to why Jimin knew who you are.

“But he’s my girlfriend, hyung!” he stood up, almost as if ready to fight.

“Well, um, this awkward” he squint his eyes, unbothered at Jimin’s reaction “I didn’t know really that you are…” he opened his mouth then withdrew, finding words how to explain the situation “I don’t know how to say this to you but, he’s my ex”

The two of them, chatted for a while, agreeing on things that annoys Jimin and the things you used to annoy Yoongi.

“Do you still love her?” Jimin turned to Yoongi, his face sullen, hoping that he would like to hear Yoongi’s answer from his query.

He breathed hard “You know kid, you’ll never stop loving a person even if they’re gone. Even if you were left by time, leaving you to oblivion, making you a faint memory from that person. You just don’t” he took his coffee from the vending machine that was sitting on his side and drank before he continued.

“But that doesn’t mean you want that person to be there for you forever. Knowing that she’s happy, well even more happy without me by his side, that’s more than enough. Isn’t that what love is supposed to be? Even when it doesn’t feel like romance, it changes into something, something that transcends beyond it. I can’t explain kid, but you’ll understand it someday” he turned to Jimin, hoping he didn’t touch a nerve that would make him angry.

“I really love her, hyung. My manager’s pretty upset about this whole relationship situation but I couldn’t care anymore. If they find out about us or not, I don’t care! I’d rather admit the truth than deny and hurt her, she doesn’t deserve that. I just, I feel like she’s the one even when she’s moody and all” Jimin shyly confessed.

Yoongi nods “Jimin, you should know several things so you could avoid argument with Y/N. First, of all never underestimate her love for coffee. Never.” He straightened his palm to emphasize his statement.

“She loves coffee first thing in the morning, do not talk to her without her having a coffee yet, under any circumstance. Well, unless you don’t want a great day ahead of you, you could, but I do not recommend it all. Speaking of coffee, she would want one after having a stressful day or any stressful situation she was in. But this is important, take note, she likes sweet coffee and bitter ones on the morning.”

Jimin listened to him attentively as Yoongi continued “If she writes story, she’ll want you to read it from start to end. Do it and be honest, she hates mediocre comments so you have to be tedious about reading it. She loves it when you ask, so that’s a tip. If you fail to read everything, you can ask her. Oh, but be careful about your questions, because she’ll know when you didn’t read it all and she’ll be really upset”

Yoongi chuckled upon remembering how you love to eat unlimited BBQs “She also loves meat, like seriously a lot! So treat her to BBQs every often or else she’ll get moody for a month. She’s a heavy drinker too, so ready your liver and try to keep up with her. And lastly, never end the day without telling her how you truly feel, she’ll appreciate it, whatever it is that’s on your mind tell her. I can see the way she looks at you in that picture” he peered through Jimin’s phone on the side which was glowing due to several notifications “because that was how she used to look at me too. I bet she’ll understand you. She now loves you Jimin.”

It was already night time when Yoongi finished cleaning the room and putting everything that you two wanted to sell inside a big box. Yoongi looks at the broken piano and stared at it for a moment “I guess the greatest song of all time were never made” he stood up, picked it up and took it with him, as walked towards the door way.

He looked at the empty room, one last time “This place still smells like us, let’s not forget this scent wherever we are” he spoke softly to himself and turned the lights off.

He closed the door and saw the doormat again.

“Bunch of Min residents” you drew on the doormat. He chuckled “That’s pretty witty, wait let me add a little touch” he took the marker from you and drew your faces which made you two laughed even harder.

“This is a masterpiece! We need everyone to see this!” you quickly went to the door and put it on the entryway.

Yoongi smiled as he watched you from the couch and sighed at the thought of wanting to be with you forever. He just knew from that moment on you were the one.

He rolled the mat from the floor and tossed it to the nearest trash bin.

He knew it was too late for regrets, but at the same time he knew it was for the better. Whatever happened in the past brought you two to where you are all supposed to be now: Happy, contented but apart.

All the memories, your hopes and dreams that you two shared together, are now gone. Cleaned to make room for another one.

He looked at the door and smiled weakly “Ijen, Annyeong (Goodbye now)” and left.

Let’s move Goodbye to this place, that we grew attached to Let’s move Now to a higher place While taking the last box out of the empty room I looked back for a moment Times we cried and laughed Goodbye now

Moving On- BTS

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for getting here. Hope you’ll also like the spin-off series for this: Seesaw (Teaser)

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angstyaches · 4 years ago

Text

The Strong One

I accidentally posted a reply to this ask too soon (instead of saving it as a draft as I’d planned) but here is what Mushroom Anon said:

ngl your self indulgent fics are some of your best ones. okay so my request was : a generally stoic and strong character getting sick from emotions? like from a panic attack or anxiety? their s/o is worried because ???? what happened?? turns out they’ve been having a Really Stressful Week TM and proceed to get pampered and loved. For felix and elliot. omg also how about : a little outsider shot of the two of them here pov ryan and nancy. thanks! 🍄

Post Thicker Than Blood Arc (i.e. after Felix comes back from visiting his mother’s nursing home etc.) And dude, I LOVED the Ryan/Nancy POV idea, holy shit. Thank you so much for that addition!!

CW: secrecy, bickering, panic attack, emeto, mention of (past) deaths.

___

“Good morning, darling,” Felix chirped as he entered the kitchen. Elliott was sitting at the marble countertop, one hand propping up his chin while the other tapped away at his laptop keyboard. Felix wasn’t sure what Elliott was working on these days – and he tended to get huffy and defensive when asked – so Felix made a grand gesture of cupping a hand around his eye while walking past. Look, darling, I’m not looking!

“Morning?” Elliott glanced down at his watch, tilting the laptop screen so that it was almost halfway shut, despite Felix making it obvious that he wasn’t looking. “It’s basically the afternoon.”

“Hmm?” Felix took hold of Elliott’s wrist, tilting his head to read the time. “No, it’s still the morning for seven more minutes and twelve more seconds.”

Elliott grunted. “Oh. Well. You got me.”

Felix chewed his lip, his feathers a bit ruffled by Elliott’s tone. He glanced through the kitchen towards the sitting room. “Where is everyone?”

“I think Nan dragged Ryan to the farmer’s market.”

“No!” Felix gasped. “I wanted to go, too.”

“Should’ve woken up earlier then, huh? Maybe joined me on a morning run?”

A grin spread across Felix’s face, his natural response to Elliott’s attempts to mould him into a morning person. It hadn’t happened in the last seven years, so it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

He leaned his head against Elliott’s shoulder, even though his hair was still dripping wet from his shower. “I love it when you nag me. You in the mood for a drop of coffee?”

“No, Fee, I’m fine.” Elliott tugged the laptop screen even lower, as though he thought Felix was trying to peek.

Felix looked up, a bit startled by the solemn tone of Elliott’s voice, and confused by just how protective he was being on his screen. His partner looked down at him, still the taller of the two while sitting on the island stools. His eyes portrayed an uneasy darkness that made Felix frown.

“Is…” Felix’s heart skipped a beat. “Is everything alright, darling?”

Elliott blinked. “Yes. Why?”

“I – you just seem…”

One of Elliott’s eyebrows arched.

“… Tense,” Felix grimaced.

“Tense?” Elliott repeated dully. “Well, excuse me. Not all of us had fifteen hours of sleep.”

“Huh. Okay.” Felix pursed his lips and padded unhappily across the white tiles, towards the coffee maker. He felt silly. He could usually handle Elliott’s teasing and such, but something about the way he was acting felt strange. It was like something had shifted between them.

Felix felt his heart sink as he scooped coffee grounds into the machine, his motions slowing.

It had been three weeks since Felix had returned to the Aldridge’s townhouse, after spending a few weeks up north and visiting his mother in her nursing home. Beyond his first few days back, Elliott hadn’t questioned him too much about what had happened up there, so Felix had assumed – hoped – that he’d decided to put it all behind them. But there was a chance he had changed his mind since then, right?

Felix blinked, realising he’d spilled grounds on the glistening white countertop. He barely cared. He turned around. “Elli?”

“What?” Elliott had lifted the laptop screen again, still sitting stiffly as he navigated some screen that Felix wasn’t allowed to see.

“Are – are you still angry with me?” There was a tiny hitch in Felix’s voice, which he couldn’t help. He didn’t want to take Elliott’s mood and make it all about himself, but the thought of Elliott quietly holding onto resentment made Felix’s stomach hurt.

Elliott let out a rasping sigh and slapped the lid of his computer shut. Felix jumped on the spot, watching with wide eyes as Elliott dropped his head into his hands where he sat. Felix was overcome with worry, sure, but for a tenth of a second, all he wanted to do was check that Elliott hadn’t broken his laptop and lost whatever secret project he was working on.

“Darling?” Felix laid down the coffee scoop and wrung his hands. “If – if this is about anything that we talked about, I would want you to tell me.”

“No.” The word was murmured so softly that Felix barely heard it. Elliott let out a shaky, audible breath, his face still hidden in his hands. “No, boo, you – you and I are fine.”

“You – I’m sorry, you keep using that word. Fine…”

“You and I,” Elliott huffed, “are perfect, Fee.”

That should have been reassuring, but Felix still had that sinking sensation in his chest. Elliott’s shoulders rocked forward slightly, like he was trying to curl into a ball where he was seated.

At least this time, Felix didn’t have to hesitate in coming to Elliott’s side. “Elli,” he sighed, sliding his arms around Elliott’s waist, resting his forehead on his back. “Talk to me.”

“I…” Elliott started off shakily, gulping so hard that Felix heard it from where he was positioned behind him. “I-I don’t…”

As he waited for Elliott to find the words, Felix gently moved a hand up and down over his ribs, hoping the contact was soothing and not stifling. Elliott’s chest was rising and falling way too quickly for Felix’s liking. He decided he should probably back off and give his partner space to breathe, but as soon as he started to move, Elliott grabbed one of his hands and tugged it towards his chest again.

“You have something, now, or someone who… who can tie you to your old life.” The words vibrated within his chest and his back as he choked them out.

Felix frowned and lifted his head, looking up at the back of Elliott’s. The taller boy’s dark hair was scooped into a messy bun. The ends were knotted and ratty. It hadn’t been cut in so long. “Darling, I don’t want to be tied to that life. I want to be tied to this life, with you.”

“I know, I know, but it got me thinking about the people I used to know, and how…” Elliott shuddered in Felix’s grip. “How they would all... I knew it was a long shot, but I tried finding some names online, but we – Jesus, most of us didn’t even have full names, we were just trying to survive –”

“Darling,” Felix whispered, at a complete loss for anything more substantial to say.

“I mean –” A dark tremble of laughter broke through Elliott’s voice. He swivelled the stool, stepping down and taking a few steps across the tiles. “It’s pointless to even look for them, right? What are the odds any of my old friends also happened to end up becoming immortal vampires, huh?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Rhetorical question, boo.”

“Sorry.” Felix followed a few steps behind Elliott as he went to the kitchen window. It didn’t even seem like he was looking at anything in particular, but simply exposing his retinas to the light from outside.

“Elli?” Felix said quietly.

Elliott glanced at him, just for a moment. His eyes were dark and wet, his lips trembling as he gradually lost the battle against full-on hyperventilation. He shook his head violently, gaze wandering aimlessly again. “I don’t – I don’t feel right. What’s wr… What’s wrong with me, Fee?”

“Darling, try to slow your breathing.”

Elliott slammed his palms down either side of the kitchen sink, his shoulders buckling forward under the pressure of the gasps and heaves racking his body. “Felix, what’s wrong with me?”

“You’re panicking,” Felix said, shocking himself with how calm he sounded. He closed the last few paces between them, unable to resist being next to Elliott while he was in this state. “I’m right here, alright? I’m going to touch your back, Elli, but – but please, tell me if it’s not okay…”

“Don’t,” Elliott gasped, shaking his head violently. His mouth bobbed open as he lowered his shoulders even further, eyes widening. “G-going to –”

A moment before Elliott started dry heaving, Felix realised what was happening, and obediently took his hand back. As a rule, Elliott detested being touched when he was sick, and Felix had learned to stop fighting that a long, long time ago.

Felix flinched at how violently sick Elliott suddenly was. His head was practically in the sink at one point, his body buckling under the intense convulsions. It was impossible to distinguish between the laboured breathing and the dry heaving, but every sound and every lurch made Felix’s heart twist a little tighter in his chest.

“Darling, I’m sorry,” Felix choked out. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise you had all of this going on inside you.”

Elliott whimpered at that, attempting to lift his head a little higher. “Fee, I just –” He was immediately interrupted by a wet belch, and a clear stream of saliva that he needed to spit away from his lips into the sink. “You just got back, I w-want – wanted things to be normal… for you.”

“Elli,” Felix whined. He couldn’t believe what was happening here. Elliott was trying not to cry as he spoke, and Felix almost lost it too, though he did his best to keep a hold of things. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but he had a feeling he knew exactly what Elliott meant by ‘normal’. He meant the normalcy where Felix could be a mess and Elliott was forced to be the strong one.

He watched as Elliott brought his elbows down gently in front of the sink, letting his head drop against them as the nausea finally seemed to past. He trembled and sighed deeply, seemingly in resignation.

Felix cleared his throat softly. “May I touch you?”

A very quiet chuckle emerged from Elliott’s buried face. “You may.”

Felix rested a hand gently on Elliott’s back, introducing the slightest amount of motion so that his fingertips grazed over a small portion of his spine. He lowered his forehead to Elliott’s shoulder again, this time with very little weight behind it. He needed Elliott to know he wasn’t leaning on him, but that he was there for him.

And he was capable of being the strong one sometimes.

___

“You know, there was a time where you would have helped me bring the bags in from the car,” Nancy sulked. Her arms were outstretched and wrapped around half a dozen bags from different vendors which were pressed against her chest.

“It is not my fault that you insist on buying so much,” Ryan said calmly, following her wife to the doorstep with her hands in her pockets. “For example, you did not need to purchase onions from three different stalls.”

“I told you; they’re different varieties!”

Ryan sighed as she opened the front door and stood back to let her wife into the front hallway of the townhouse. “An onion is an onion, love.”

“Felix,” Nancy grumbled, turning as she walked and narrowing her eyes at Ryan. “Felix will back me up. Felix! Felix, sweetheart!” she called towards the stairs.

The response from within the house was a muted sshhh, which sounded much closer than the upstairs bedrooms. Nancy frowned, meeting Ryan’s gaze for a moment as she closed the front door. Ryan made a beeline towards the kitchen and Nancy followed, dragging her feet slightly on the tiles as she struggled with her bags. She paused by the kitchen island to deposit all of them, watching as Ryan rounded the far corner and stared at what was happening on the sofa.

“Oh, sweethearts, what’s happened?” Nancy gasped, rushing over to stand next to Ryan.

Felix was sitting – almost upright – at one end of the sofa, white Elliott curled up next to him, his head resting in the smaller boy’s lap.

“Is… Is he asleep?” Nancy whispered.

Felix nodded silently. His poor eyes were red and a little puffy as he glanced back and forth between his two foster mothers.

“Anything we can do?” Ryan asked in a low voice, slipping her hands into the pockets of her slacks again. Nancy couldn’t help but pout; oh, sure, you’ll ask them if there’s anything they need you to do, but you won’t help me carry a couple of bags into the house.

A weak smile tugged at Felix’s exhausted expression, and he shook his head. His fingers drifted over Elliott’s head, brushing back a thin strand of his dark hair. Nancy once again couldn’t help herself, this time pursing her lips and wondering how long it had been since Elliott had cut his hair.

“Everything’s okay,” Felix murmured softly. “I’ve got him.”

#Swallow the World #vampire sickfic #vampire angst fic #vampire oc #oc sickfic #oc angst fic #stomach ache fic #emeto #emetophilia #emeto sickfic #emeto fic #vampire emeto #panic attack #anxiety mention #hurt and comfort #hurt and comfort fic #StW Elliott #sick Elliott

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schrijverr · 3 years ago

Text

Hold Me Together

Chapter 3 out of 4

Eliot gets hurt on a job and then sick. Hardison and Parker waste no time to jump in to care for him and it becomes harder and harder to say no to their care when it’s just so nice. After he has a nightmare, they’re there for him and feelings come to light.

AKA Eliot has a terrible time physically (and partly emotionally), but gets lots of cuddles and two partners in the end.

On AO3.

Ships: Thiefsome OT3

Warnings: Eliot's low self esteem and the flu

~~~~~~~~~~~

Hold Me Tight

Eliot ate his soup under the watchful gazes of Hardison and Parker. It was good soup, but he felt guilty about having the kitchen staff cook for him, deciding to thank them profusely later. He also made a mental note to yell at Hardison and Parkerlater about burning a pan, hoping it hadn’t been one of his nice pans.

For now though, the soup was heavenly on his throat and its warmth was great for his cold bones, so he just leaned against the headboard and ate his soup, spotting the stuffed mushroom on his bedside table.

Once it became clear, he wasn’t going to explode, or whatever those two thought he was going to do, they relaxed and started babbling about all sorts of things. While Eliot had been sleeping, they had also taken a nap, before the failed soup experiment, after which Hardison had taught Parker how to play Thief: Deadly Shadows, which Parker found too unrealistic and critiqued the stealing animations, until they had decided to keep him company.

Their chatter was relaxing and despite the fact that Eliot had been asleep for sixteen hours, not to mention the car ride before that, he found his eyes drooping.

“You tired?” Hardison asked kindly and Eliot’s gut instinct was to deny it. He couldn't go to sleep again, it was embarrassing and unnecessary. Still, he was tired and they had been so nice, but if he went to sleep they would leave him again.

That train of thought had taken a quick turn and Eliot was frustrated that he didn’t have a good control over his emotions and thoughts due to the fluof all things that was making him dazed. He blinked the thought away and shook his head.

“So you’re not tired?” Parker filled in with a confused frown. And Eliot wanted to deny it for real this time, but instead he yawned.

“I somehow find that hard to believe,” Hardison quirked a brow playfully.

God, they were so nice to him and he didn’t deserve that, but it was so nice and he wanted them to stay with him and not go to sleep, even if he was tired. He pushed down the tears threatening to well up in his eyes, before whispering: “Don’t want to sleep yet.”

It was pathetic and he should have just said that he was fine and that he was going to get up, but he couldn’t and if anyone asked later he had a sore throat and couldn’t speak.

“No?” Hardison asked.

“No,” Eliot replied. He didn’t want to sleep, he didn’t want to be left alone and he didn’t want to be pathetic, yet there he was.

“We could watch a movie,” Parker suggested and Eliot could have kissed her. He had wanted to kiss her on multiple occasions, but this was definitely one of them- And he should really stop thinking about kissing Parker right about now, okay, pushing that away.

“That’s a great idea, mama,” Hardison exclaimed, getting up to grab his laptop since Eliot had refused to let him install a tv in his room. As he went he took the empty bowl with him.

Parker took it upon herself to built a semi-pillow fort around Eliot, before burrowing into Eliot’s side with a content sigh. Alarms went off in his head at the closeness even if it was nice, so he protested it with a raw voice: “I could be contagious.”

“We slept next to you for a night then sat on the backseat of Lucille for eight hours, bit too late for that,” Parker said. “Besides, you’re warm and soft.”

His brain short-circuited for a moment and when he came back online Hardison was there, three steaming mugs on a tray as he said: “Ahw, aren’t you two making an adorable picture,” successfully breaking Eliot again.

Next to him Parker smiled and did grabby hands to the mugs. Hardison gave her one, which was obviously hot chocolate under the pile of marshmallows on top of it. Luckily, the mug that Eliot was given was filled with tea. It was bag tea, badly prepared, but there was honey in it and he was touched anyway.

“Okay, I’m thinking 007, it’s James Bond, a classic, must see,” Hardison said, plopping down on Eliot’s other side, setting the laptop on Eliot’s lap and leaning over as he started typing.

“He’s a terrible spy,” Eliot protested, barely audible, more because if he said anything else, he would blurt out something embarrassing and bickering with Hardison about his movie taste was the safest thing right now.

“And your voice is almost gone, so you should rest it,” Hardison shot him a cheeky grin, “No complaining from you for once.”

Eliot guffawed about that, frowning, but he didn’t reply, because he wouldn't waste his voice on something so petty and childish, no matter what Hardison thought, so he just looked away haughtily to convey his dismay.

“Oeh, I know, it’s the one with the dude he thinks he’s good at what we do, but he’s not and also on the other side of the law,” it clicked for Parker and Eliot smiled when she picked his side of the argument.

“Other side of the law? Woman, do you mean the right side of the law?” Hardison said.

“I mean, it’s the other side of the law from us,” Parker shrugged and Eliot couldn't help but bark out a laugh, Hardison joining in, before everyone was distracted when it turned into a coughing fit and Eliot’s tea had to be saved by Parker while Hardison rubbed his back.

“You good?” Hardison asked when the coughing had subsided.

Still a bit out of breath and red in the face, Eliot nodded. He gestured vaguely with his hand to convey that he was fine and that they should let it go, before clearing his throat and rasping: “You know, I’m with Parker.”

“Really? You just nearly died of coughing and your first reaction is to continue a stupid argument where you know you’re wrong,” Hardison said indignantly.

“‘m not wrong,” Eliot told him, voice now barely a whisper.

“You. You stay quiet, okay. Your voice is making my throat hurt-” Hardison took the tea from Parker and pushed it into Eliot’s hands “-drink your tea and shut up, while you watch how wrong you are, okay. Both y’all.”

Eliot grinned lightly, but let them push him back onto the pillows, cradling his mug as Hardison finished setting up the movie, while Parker whispered in his ear: “I don’t get why people think he’s cool, besides the explosions.”

“I heard that,” Hardison called out, clicking play, before settling down on Eliot’s other side, bracketing him between them.

It was nice and comfortable and Eliot should really not be allowing this, because he was fine dammit and he could take care of himself. But it was really really nice and, honestly, it didn’t seem like Parker and Hardison thought him to be breakable and they had had movie nights in the past, so it wasn’t anything new. Besides, his muscles were too sore for fighting right now.

The movie played on the screen, but he couldn't focus and his eyes were closing more and more. He felt himself slide to the side and land on something warm, but no one pushed him away and to the sound of bullets flying, he began to nod off.

He fought it for a while, he really wanted to stay present with Parker commenting on the movie and Hardison defending it until a hacking scene came on and then he was really upset about the whole thing.

It felt like home, comfortable and safe and Eliot wanted to experience it for as long as it lasted, but sleep won out and soon he was out like a light once more.

When he woke up again, he was shivering and cold to the bone, it didn’t matter that there were multiple blankets piled on top of him and that he still had Hardison’s stupidly warm hoodie on. The sweat was cooling on his body and he was cold.

And alone.

Somehow that second fact hit him harder than he’d expected and he immediately hated himself for being a clingy pathetic little bitch. He knew better than this, they’d already seen enough weakness from him. They had handled it so far, but there would be a breaking point and he knew it. He had to keep them out of it, before they got there and they would leave. He had to take care of himself from now on.

Determined he got up out of bed to find more blankets and clean clothes, because still wearing Hardison’s hoodie should be weird and not comforting and the clothes were too sweaty to be comfortable anyway. His left ankle still throbbed as he got up, but he could walk and stand on it now, albeit unsteadily and with a slight limp.

He felt entirely uncomfortable, his skin itchy around him and his body uncoordinated. He wanted to take a shower, but didn’t trust himself enough to take one, so he just pulled on new clothes, a shirt and boxers – no pants because he’d already almost fallen over with the boxers – before padding out his room and to the living room where there should be more blankets. He had no clue what time it was but it was between sun and stars, either early morning or evening.

The unanswered question about the time was answered when he entered the living room and saw Parker and Hardison curled up on the couch with a blanket and pizza. Dinner. At least he hoped it wasn’t breakfast, because then he would have to yell at them and that seemed like about as much work as standing was right now.

Two pairs of eyes had locked onto him the moment he had come stumbling into the room, and he looked at them like a deer in headlights. He somehow hadn’t counted on encountering them, even if it was technically their apartment and he just had a room there.

After a moment of staring, Parker sprung up, exclaiming: “Eliot!” as she scrambled over the back of the couch with the blanket she and Hardison had been sharing.

“Hey, man, what are you doing here? You should be in bed,” Hardison had gotten over his initial surprise of Eliot appearing in just his boxers and a shirt (and he was really regretting not putting in the extra effort of pants).

Then the question registered and with a hoarse voice, he explained: “I go’ col’. Blan’e’s.”

“You’re up looking for more blankets?” Hardison asked. “Good god, you’re shivering, man. Come, sit on the couch.” Parker led him to the couch while Hardison mumbled: “How is this man cold? We left nearly all the blankets on his bed.”

Eliot felt guilty about interrupting their evening when he’d already taken up so much of their time since their last con, on which they also hadn’t been able to spend much time together, but between his clattering teeth and lost voice, his explanation got lost.

He was alone on the couch now, with both Hardison and Parker having disappeared once they’d installed him with the blanket tucked tightly around him. He was a bit lost on what was expected of him now, but soon Parker came back with the mess of blankets that had been on his bed and Hardison arrived with a steaming bowl and a hot bottle.

Hardison handed him the bottle and he tucked it against his chest, before Parker practically swaddled him. He softly protested: “You don’ nee’ to do t‘is.”

“We know,” Hardison smiled again with a bit of knowing in there as if he was aware why Eliot was protesting. It should bother him more than it did that they knew him so well. “Just drink your soup, Eliot. We want to take care of you.”

“Yes, it’s a skill you need to learn and you helped me,” Parker smiled and it was so easy to agree with the smile and just drink his soup, but he couldn't just accept help like that.

What he wanted to tell them was: ‘You two need to stop all of this, because I don’t need it and you two are dating and I’m only in the way of that right now. Just let me get to my room and I’ll be fine on my own while you have date night. This is really sweet and all, but I’ve been through worse and I’ll survive a little flu by myself.’

However, his voice had left him entirely now to the point of inaudible, so instead he moved his mouth while hoarse whispers that couldn't even be called words came out.

“I didn’t get that,” Parker said after a beat and it was just blunt and honest and completely Parker.

“Me neither, mama,” Hardison said. “I can go grab you a pen and some paper, man. You can write it down if you want?”

And that was the opposite of what he wanted. He wanted them to see he was bad in their life and not worthy of this attention, he wanted them to go away before they could see he was weak and they couldn't count on him, even if he would die before they couldn't count on him anymore. The longer this went on the sooner they would see the soft, weak parts of him and they would want to cut him out. And he didn’t want to be cut out. Of course he didn’t want to be cut out, but that would be inevitable if they stayed, because they would see his creepy feelings for them or see how much he craved contact and that would be the end.

His vision blurred and his breath came in raspy wheezes. Far away he could hear Parker and Hardison’s worried voices and he faintly wondered why they weren’t upset with him for ruining their night and falling apart over nothing.

Why couldn’t they just leave him like everyone else? It would hurt, but it would be easier.

But they didn’t leave, instead there was a bony arm around his shoulders and a soft hand rubbing his back as two voices spoke in calming tones, though he couldn't make out what they were saying. He took some more deep breaths and tried to push it all down and lock it away.

Once his vision had cleared he could see a laptop on a blank word document in front of him. He didn’t have the energy to repeat all he’d said, but he typed anyway: im aorry dioe ruinug your date nifht

He couldn't really focus, but both were quiet for a moment as they deciphered his words. Then he was pulled into a half hug by Hardison this time, as the other said: “You’re not ruining anyone’s night, man. What gave you that idea?”

Eliot shrugged helplessly at that, because how could they not see he was ruining their night by getting injured and then sick and deciding to stay here even if he had an apartment, because there was a room here. And he was really relying too much on them already for when it all came crashing down around him.

“Do you not want us to be here with you?” Parker asked, sounding sad.

He shook his head quickly, because he could never let Parker be sad, a stab of pain going through his skull as he did, before shrugging, wishing he had a voice, even if he was too exhausted to explain. He wasn’t sleepy, just tired, like he wanted to sit and stare, but not sleep.

Parker wrapped herself around him, putting her head on his shoulder as she said: “It’s okay. I sometimes also don’t know what I want. We’ll just figure it out together.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Hardison agreed with her and Eliot wanted to cry at their kindness, but instead he just nodded weakly, giving in to taking up space when they didn’t seem to mind. He accepted the soup again and focusing on eating it and the warmth of Hardison and Parker as well as the blankets around him, instead of the thoughts swirling in his mind.

The two had the good sense to let him be, while they went back to the conversation he’d interrupted. It seemed they had been discussing the ethics of pushing someone of the building. Eliot had heard both sides of the argument often enough to tune them out and just listen to the tones of their voices as his mind sank away.

Content he stared into the void for a while. He didn’t keep track of the time, but it could have been minutes to an hour. In the time he ate his soup and let the bowl get taken away gently as the hot water bottle cooled and the shivers came back. His breath was wheezy and he sniffled, regularly interrupted with a cough.

After a while they put on a movie and cuddled on the couch with him, but he could not have told anyone later what the movie was.

They helped him to bed at some point, he brushed his teeth slowlyand slept long and deep, but when he woke up he was still in that hazy staring mood. Parker brought him a few crackers with more tea with honey that he ate gratefully giving her an, in her opinion, dopey smile, even if his eyes couldn't stay fully focused on her.

It was never brought up later and Eliot didn’t remember, but when Parker had asked him why he was smiling, he had told her in a hoarse whisper: “‘s nice, not bein’ alone.” And after that, he hadn’t been alone, because Parker had told Hardison, who had gotten a sad look in his eye, before getting Eliot and carting him off to the couch.

Eliot had gone along willingly. He couldn't really do more than think ‘hmm, warm,’ as he leaned in and stumbled along, but he was glad to just sit on the couch under a lot of blankets while Parker hung in the rafters and Hardison worked on some IDs.

He was pretty sure Sophie came by and he said hi to her and she told him something about talking to Nate, but he couldn't be sure. He should ask Hardison or Parker about it, because they had talked to her more and he should be interested in who went in and out of the apartment, check for security risks. But he was exhausted and he couldn't focus on anything.

Still, he was completely sure that if something were to happen, he would be up and ready to fight as best as he could, but his brain had shut off for anyone he’d deemed safe.

That night Hardison and Parker slept in his bed again, like they’d done at the hotel and the first night back in Portland. Their presence was calming and despite the chills, he felt warm.

During the night he didn’t wake up once, which was actually rare even with the sickness knocking him out constantly. The shivers had been waking him up for short moments, along with the coughing, but pressed between Parker and Hardison, he slept like a baby.

When he woke up, however, he was keenly aware of the cooling sweat on his skin and the every present smell of sickness in the air and the horrid taste in his mouth. He also then realized that meant Hardison and Parker were smelling it too and he let out a small noise of embarrassment, before he was even aware of it.

“What’s wrong, E?” Hardison asked and Eliot would rather just sink into the ground, but he couldn't so he burrowed into his blanket and wrinkled his nose.

“Are you still a mermaid?” Parker appeared where he had rolled away from Hardison.

“We watched The Little Mermaidrecently,” Hardison explained.

Eliot nodded. He might be able to talk, but his throat hurt and none of his thoughts stuck around for long enough to form into sentences he could verbalize.

Parker was still studying his face closely, while Hardison went on a mission to figure out what the noise had meant. “Are you in pain? Do we need to get you some pain meds?”

A grumpy, negative grunt.

“Okay, okay, no need to be so touchy feel-y. I get it, no pain meds,” Hardison backed off. “Is there any other discomfort?”

And there was, the taste and smell and the fact that Hardison and Parker were in the smell and not saying anything about it. Also the fact that his clothes felt grimy from the sweat that madehis skin feellike it needed to crawl off him if he ever wanted to feel comfortable and clean again. But he wasn’t telling them that, because they might want to do something about it, which would be even more embarrassing.

“He’s not telling us something,” Parker snitched on him and while he was glad her people-reading skills had increased, he didn’t like her using them on him. So, he hid in his blanket again as protest.

“There is something!” Hardison agreed, taking his silent protest as Parker’s words having truth and Eliot hated and loved them both for how well they could read him. It was dangerous to have people that close and it would hurt when they left, but to have a family again was nice.

Having them was nice.

Oh no. Abort. Abort. Not having those thoughts while they were in his bed and he was in just a shirt and boxers.

Actually, never those thoughts.

Never.

They were happy together and he only broke things. He was bad and needed to stay away from that and he knew it. Just had to ram it in a few more times before it would stick in his thick skull and- fuck they were still talking to him.

“… never tell us anything and I know you can’t talk and shit, but you really need to give me more than those blank, panicky eyes,” Hardison looked at him, before sighing in what Eliot would call a fond manner, if he didn’t know better. “You didn’t hear a word I was saying, did you?”

Sheepishly Eliot shook his head, wincing when that every present headache made itself known again.

“He feels bad about it,” Parker observed and he would love it if she stopped reading his face to Hardison and let him vanish in peace.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Hardison smiled and a knot loosened in Eliot’s chest, even when he hadn’t noticed it had been there. “I’ll ask again. He listening, mama?”

After a look Parker confirmed: “He is.”

“Good. So, Eliot, the thing that’s bothering you, could we do something to change it and help?” he asked and there was, but Eliot wasn’t showering with them near him again, maybe they’d hold him and the last time was too intense already. His mind spun when he thought about it, so yeah, he didn’t need a close repeat of that, not if he wanted to push Hardison and Parker away.

“I’m taking your silence as a yes,” Hardison informed him, snapping him back to the present, though he could play that off. He had been distant mentally ever since he got sick.

“So, what is it?” Parker asked, poking him and, oh yeah, he realized, them knowing something was up meant that they were going to needle him for answers until they had them.

Luckily for him, he had sat through worse torture and never breathed a word.

A few moments later and he was breaking. Parker kept on poking him and Hardison kept looking at him with those open, concerned eyes while he spoke too much for Eliot too keep track of everything, until it all became too much. “Uncomfortable,” he finally said. Well, tried to say, it sounded more like ‘un’omf’r’le,’ but that was besides the point.

“What’s uncomfortable, E?” Hardison asked, not unkindly.

“E’erythin’,” he replied, tugging at his shirt and wrinkling his nose as he smacked his lips and shuddered, before the shudder turned into a sneeze and a small, miserable cough.

“You feeling yucky, buddy?” Parker asked, earning her look form the other two. Defensively she shrugged: “What? It’s what they say in those movies and shows.”

And when she mentioned it, he did feel pretty yucky, even if he would never describe it like that out loud. Hardison, however, had no such qualms and he delighted in saying: “He probably does feel very yucky. But we can take care of that. I’ll start running a bath.”

Immediately Eliot felt conflicted and made a protesting noise. He wanted a bath, god, nothing sounded better than nice hot water on his sore muscles and cold, sweat stained skin, but if he had learned anything, it was that neither of them would leave him in peace in the bath and he was trying to distance himself, even if that seemed absurd with how both were in his bed, cuddling him through the night to keep him warm.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come back,” Hardison smiled, misinterpreting his noise and sweeping out of the room before Eliot could rectify the mistake.

Parker cuddled back into his side and confided in him: “He never breaks that promise. Took me a while to believe it too, but it’s okay. You’ll get there.”

Eliot didn’t understand, didn’t get how neither of them could see how wrong they were. He wanted to rip his hair out and- oh, there was a hand in his hair, getting out the tangles. It was nice and his mind blanked as he leaned into the contact, something he would berate himself for later.

He only remembered that he should have been convincing Parker that this was a terrible idea when Hardison returned. “You two gotta stop doing this to me, man. You look like a content cat. Now get up, we got a bath to get too.”

The blanket was pulled off him and the cold swept over him. He shivered hard and tried to flee into Parker’s side before he could even think about that action too hard. For a moment, he thought he was safe too, because she wrapped her arms around him like a hug, but then she turned it against him and dragged him to his knees with her.

“Man, I feel like I’m about to slaughter a puppy right now,” Hardison told him as he took Eliot from Parker and pulled him out of bed.

“He’ll be fine once he’s warm and clean again,” Parker assured him. “He’s just being a bit of a baby about it.”

“I think he’s allowed to be a baby about it,” Hardison said and Eliot would have a lot more opinions on the conversation if the room wasn’t spinning and he was barely keeping up with Hardison’s steps, completely trusting the hacker not to drop him. “I mean, look at how he’s shivering, can’t be comfortable.”

Eliot blinked again, the room was still swaying, but it was a different room than before. There was a hot steam in the air and there were tiles around him. The bathroom. He was too late to stop them and he gave in.

If anyone he used to know could see him now, they’d never believe it. The great Eliot Spencer giving into the whims of a hacker and a thief, not even fighting getting a bath even when he knew it was a security risk and something that could blow up in his face.

Deft hands were divesting him of his shirt and soon he was in just his boxers. The door opened and closed behind him as Parker vanished, while Hardison said: “She’s gonna change the sheets and I’m here to keep you from drowning. There are bubbles in the bath, but I can understand if you want to keep your boxers on.”

He nodded, because he would like to keep the boxers on. The steam was doing wonders for his throat, but he didn’t trust himself to speak just yet.

Hardison supported him at the elbows as he stepped into the bath. The water was warm and he sank into it gratefully with a soft sigh, his muscles were already loosening and the heat did nothing against the sleepiness that had been plaguing him. His eyes closed without his permission as the water embraced him.

A hand under his chin stopped him before he could sink underwater and his eyes snapped open to find Hardison smiling at him. “Told you I wasn’t going to let you drown. Go on, relax, Eliot. It’s okay, I got you.”

It was distinctly harder to relax with Hardison holding him up, his big warm hands were very distracting and Eliot was trying really hard not to be distracted. The water was like heaven on his muscles, so that helped and he could feel the steam clearing his sinuses and alleviating the strain on his throat.

Few minutes in and Hardison’s hands were just part of the little place of niceness away from all the discomfort that came with being sick.

Eliot knew he could have just existed like that forever, floating away from his body while still feeling the nice sensations, were it not for the door making noise again as Parker came in. He perked his head up and cracked one eye open.

She smiled at him and held up some clothes, which she put down as she skipped forwards, kneeling next to the bath. With open eyes she asked: “How are you feeling? Baths always make me feel tingly in a good way, are you feeling tingly?”

He didn’t know what hisface did at the question, but Hardison laughed: “I think he’s feeling plenty tingly, mama. I saw you with your hands in his hair, wanna wash it?”

Parker lit up at that and even if Eliot had been planning to protest – which hadn’t crossed his mind before it was too late – he couldn't have told her no with that face. So he watched as they switched places, feeling kinda awkward at both of the staring at him while he was going to face a vulnerable action.

Eliot wasn’t going to ask where she had gotten the skill, but she knew what she was doing as she slipped a hand under his neck, before slowly pushing him down into the water, until he was comfortably floating. She ran a hand through his hair and the final awkwardness slipped from his mind along with most of his thoughts as he leaned into the touch.

Under the water with his eyes closed, he couldn't see Hardison’s looks that he couldn't place with his fuzzy mind, nor Parker’s excitement and apparent happiness about taking care of him like he needed their help. He could just be and feel the tender touches that no one had given him in many years, everyone always quicker to see him as a threat to be avoided.

He was even slightly upset when Parker pulled him back up, a noise leaving his throat before he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to find Parker’s hands on him nice, she had a boyfriend. A hot boyfriend, but also a no-no on the touch list.

So, he kept quiet as Parker lathered shampoo into his hair. It was her shampoo, he was almost sure of it. Her hair always smelled like it and, if he remembered correctly, it had been a gift from Hardison. Now he had to fight both the blush as well as soft pleased noises.

And he failed at both.

“Ahw, man, the moment you feel better, I am so teasing you with this,” Hardison said. “You’re just too sad for me to do it now, but I will remember this. I’m probably not allowed to film you, right, because this is great.”

His response was going to be something along the lines of ‘Dammit, Hardison,’ but Parker was faster as she spoke for him: “Hardison! Shush, we just got him to accept a bit of nice things, don’t ruin our master plan.”

“Sorry, mama,” Hardison looked chastised and Eliot wanted to ask about the master plan, but Parker just hit a knot in his hair and he shivered against her touch instead and forgot was he was going to ask.

When Parker washed out his hair, she was careful not to get it into his eyes, but she also let him float a bit longer, the silence of the water stilling his swirling mind. It was empty now, which was better than the confusing half-thoughts and admonishes.

Still, the water was cooling around him and sooner than he’d like, Parker was letting him up as Hardison got him out of the bath.

He could at least stand on his own now and Parker left the two of them while Eliot got dried off and into new clothes.

Being able to stand on his own, however, didn’t mean it wasn’t still strange. His entire being felt soft and collapsible from the bath and sitting on the toilet with Hardison rubbing him down with a towel wasn’t helping. He couldn't even remember why he was allowing Hardison to do it, instead of drying himself, but the contact was nice and he got lost in it.

Soon there was a shirt floating in front of him and this time his shoulder was good enough to slide his armin it. Hardison had dried his stitches and mumbled something about them healing well, which Eliot appreciated. He didn’t need more of his body to turn against him like it was doing now with the way he swayed towards Hardison whenever then man moved away slightly.

The pants was still awkward as fuck, with Eliot leaning one hand on Hardison’s shoulder and looking away at the ceiling while Hardison helped him into dry boxers and sweatpants, patting him on the leg when he was done.

He expected to go back to bed, but Hardison had remembered all the little details and was standing in front of him with his toothbrush. He reached out for it, but his arm was heavy and fell halfway through the uncoordinated grab.

“Yeah, okay, this is just sad, open up,” Hardison said. Eliot didn’t comply and he raised a brow, before putting on a voice and going: “Come on, say ahhhh.”

Eliot glared at him, but said ahhh with a murderous glare that fell flat in the grand scheme of it all. He let Hardison steady his jaw, before he brushed his teeth. It was rhythmic and soothing and Eliot allowed himself to get lost in the sensations as Hardison took care of him, spitting in the sink and accepting the glass of water offered to him.

Then they returned to the bedroom, Hardison a steady presence at his side as had become the norm in the past few days.

When he got to his bedroom, the sheets had been changed and he never thought he’d see the day where that would make him emotional, but there were still tears trying to well up that he pushed down, because they were just so goddamnedthoughtful and they were taking care of him even when they didn’t need to.

It was just a lot. Eliot wasn’t used to it. And his brain would have told him to not get used to it, if it hadn’t been turned to slight mush by the sickness and the nice warm bath.

So, he got into the bed and burrowed into the clean sheets with a happy smile, not seeing the ‘oh my god, he’s being adorable like a puppy looks’ that Hardison and Parker shared as he whispered a soft thanks.

“No problem,” Hardison said. “Here scoot over, Parker picked a movie.”

And he did so gladly, even if he knew it was a play to get him to sleep again. He wasn’t fighting them, his brain felt warm and he wasn’t thinking straight enough just yet, so he let them cozy up to his sides as a movie he couldn't name played.

He napped till the evening then he ate more soup and he would complain about different nutrient intakes and diversity in a diet, but he was just glad that they cared enough to bring him food – and he would really have to thank the kitchen staff later for that too – while also not burning down his kitchen.

That evening, he stayed awake through the movie, which was a shitty horror movie that Eliot had never heard about and could have gone his entire life without knowing about it.

However, sleep took him for the night just as easily and he was looking forward to the day he could stay awake and think straight again. That day was not the next day, however, which passed in a similar fashion.

But, while he felt and looked like a wreck, on the fifth day back at the brewpub, he felt slightly better. His nose was still completely stuffed but with all the tea, the bath and resting his voice, his throat was much better already, even the coughing subsiding little by little. His appetite was still shit and he had no energy, his head was also constantly thrumming and his muscles hurt like he’d been fighting for hours, on top of his healing injuries that had fallen into the background of his general discomfort.

Still, while it wasn’t a lot, his head wasn’t so fuzzy anymore either. It meant he felt all the aches more, but he liked that he had a little more control over his head.

Sadly, because he had more control over his head, he remembered how this was all wrong and he should be far away from this.

A/N:

Eliot goes from grumpy man to emotional wreck in three chapters and I commend him for that, because it takes me five minutes max

Also, it’s really hard to write a story when the person from whose POV it is written keeps falling asleep, like sir, I need you to write the fic, stop sleeping.

Fun fact!: I typed this ‘im aorry dioe ruinug your date nifht’ without looking, bc I am actually a shit typer in the sense that I type with two fingers (four if I’m in a hurry), lmao. How I get anything done is a miracle, though I am pretty fast despite it all.

I feel like I should also mention that I know nothing about taking care of sick people and this was written for the emotional care, not the realistic nursing techniques. Also don’t look too closely into what happened to all the injuries, I half forgot, oops

Btw, angstier chapter incoming, fear me >:3

#RR writing #tw: self esteem issues #tw: flu #tw: sickfic #leverage #leverage ot3 #thiefsome #hitter hacker thief #eliot x hardison x parker #eliot spencer #alec hardison #parker #leverage parker #leverage tv #Hold Me Together #Hold Me Together Part 3

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jahe · 4 years ago

Text

Addio, cuore mio. [Missing Scene]

Note:

1. I can’t write professionally or beautifully.

2. My english is suck but it is strange that I can’t write in my native language any better. So pardon my english.

3. Not beta-ed, so it as mess as my brain.

4. The italian words, I use google trans so excuse me for inaccuracy.

5. Enjoy reading? lol;;;

6. C&Cs are welcome :)

***

It doesn’t take a day for detectives to come to hospital to questioned her everything regarding the night of her and Hanseo’s abduction which resulting Hanseo’s death. She answers in accordance that Jang Hanseok was the one abduct them both and shot his brother and attempted to shot Mr. Cassano, which she took the bullet for.

“Where is Mr. Cassano?” Detective Kang asks her.

“I don’t know, he was here last night and that was the last time I saw him.” She answers without bothering herself to look at to them.

“Did he told you anything before he left?”

“Nothing at all.”

“Will he be at his place?” the other detective who introduced himself as Detective Ma asks more.

“I am not sure,” Chayoung now turns her head to the detectives, felt a little bit nervous, she gulps. “I have told you everything about the accident, why you still need him?”

“He is a witness, we still need his statement for cross checking our investigation regarding Jang Hanseok.”

“Ah yes,” Chayoung takes breath slowly, not really have an energy to stop both of the detectives to come over to his place as she believe he has a plan. He surely going to do something and she doesn’t want the police caught him, but she can’t do anything in this state. She glanced over Mr. Nam that tried to not talk too much, he glanced back to her and nod as if he understand what she meant.

“Thanks for your cooperation, I hope your speed recovery, Miss Hong.”

When both walk away from Chayoung’s room, Mr. Nam takes his phone fast and typed a message in the group chat.

𝙸𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚅𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚣𝚘 𝚋𝚢𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚣𝚊.

***

Luckily the detectives came not long after Vincenzo drove away from the Plaza. Though the tenants couldn’t stop them from going upstair to check on Jipuragi office, but luckily they have alerted Mr. Ahn and he locked the door from inside and hide.

“How come anyone inside when the Jipuragi boss is still treated in hospital,” said Ms. Kwak when the detectives asked if they saw Vincenzo.

“Also we haven’t see him since morning!” says Mr. Tak.

“Just let me know if you see him later,” says Detective Kang. Both of them nodded and the detectives then walked away.

“As if we gonna tell them,” Ms. Kwak whispers to Mr. Tak.

***

Chayoung sighs in relief when they got update from the tenants. So, Vincenzo was back at the Plaza this morning and apparently Mr. Ahn is doing something for him. It doesn’t need much guessing that he is trying to catch Jang Hanseok, the thing she doesn’t know is how and what will he do if he caught him. The first thing that crossed her mind is he definitely kill Hanseok.

She let a nervous sigh.

Killing is not her concept, it’s Vincenzo’s. She used to thought about killing her dad killer back at his funeral but she realized she never ready; she was utterly shocked when she watch Hwang Gyu blasted away from the bomb Vincenzo installed on him. She never against it though, she isn’t a saint, even more after knowing Ms. Oh was killed, stopping him from taking revenge and kill them is useless. If anything she wants Hanseok and Myeonghee dead too.

It just.. It worries her to death if somehow he is the one that being killed.

***

Han Seunghyuk is dead. She has expected it but it is quite too soon.

… 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧...

“Jang Hanseok must’ve hired some men as his mercenaries.” Chayoung remarks.

“Vincenzo byeonhosanim… can’t be in danger,” Mr. Nam mutters.

“Mr. Nam,” she called, “Vincenzo Cassano is never in danger.” Chayoung assures her worried paralegal when in fact she is really worried from the bottom of her heart.

***

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝙰𝙿𝙱 𝚘𝚗 𝚅𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚣𝚘 𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚘 (𝟹𝟼, 𝙺𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝙸𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚗) 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝙰𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙹𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚘𝚔.

𝚅𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚣𝚘 𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚘? 𝙸𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚢𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙻𝚊𝚠𝚢𝚎𝚛 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐?

It feels like all blood drained from her body when she read that from the lawyer association group chat. Her phone pinging a lot but she doesn’t bother to check. All her worries getting bigger right now.

He got Myeonghee. The police are on him. Did he finished her already? The police are on him. Will he able to get Hanseok? The police are on him. Will he able to flee?

And suddenly the urge to meet him rises. Will she able to meet him for the last time?

She then scrolls her contact fast and punches the dial pad.

“Miri, can you come over here right now? Bring your devices and also, go to Jipuragi and take two bottles of Bian water under my desk.”

***

“What do you want me to do, Eonni?” Miri asks after rushing into Chayoung room and her side.

“Can you hack to this hospital system?” Chayoung asks.

“Depends. What for?”

Chayoung bows her head down, she bites her lips. “It just a preventive if the police are keeping an eye of me,” she says. “I want to go out,” she adds, facing Miri that looks like finally understand what she means.

“I’ll try,” Miri assures. “What is your plan?” she asks.

“Put me to radiology in nurse’s schedule tonight,” says Chayoung.

“Let’s see,” Miri prepares her laptop and some hacking devices. “That Bian waters… what purpose it will serve?” Miri asks while busy doing something with her devices.

“That’s for the police, if they decide to sit here monitoring me.” Chayoung smirks.

Miri frowns, “I don’t understand.”

“It could make them passed out,” Chayoung answers in whisper.

“Ah… I see. But what if they don’t want to drink it?” Miri asks while start to typing something on her laptop.

“They will if not then we’ll make them drink it.”

“I am in,” Miri announces she able to go pass through hospital server system. “So just put your name to radiology appointment this night? Should I put your name to radiology’s schedule too?”

“Yes. Just in case.”

“Okay, done!” Miri claps her hand.

“Thank you, my beloved.”

***

As Chayoung expects, two detectives guy come over to her room.

“Excuse me, Miss, but we must keep an eye here,” says the one who introduced himself as Detective Jo.

“Isn’t that useless?” says Chayoung, “I am just his working partner, why he would come here?”

“It is for precaution, Miss,” says the other one called Detective Kim.

Chayoung chuckles, “I am not sure how you guys think, but really? Why would he come here if he is a wanted man? Moreover while abducting someone. You police aren’t that smart, eh?”

“That’s why it is called precaution, Miss Hong.” Detective Kim emphasizes his wording.

“Wasting resource like always.” Chayoung remarks sarcastically.

“Anyway!” Mr. Nam interrupts, “Hong byeonhosanim should rest so if you may you can wait outside.” He then shoves Bian bottle to both of them. “Drink that if you guys thirsty,” he pushes both of detectives outside and close the door.

***

It doesn’t take both detectives to linger longer, as they look like they got new update from the other detectives and they should go as a back up.

Mr. Nam peeking from inside and checking on the condition after they both gone. Thankfully they haven’t touch the water. It would be disaster if they drank it and gone driving. Mr. Nam lets a relieved sigh.

“They are gone,” he says not long before his phone ringing. It is Larry.

Chayoung stares from her bed as she wait for Mr. Nam on the call.

“Okay…” he says and then put of the call. He walks back to Chayoung’s bed and says, “He escaped safely.”

There is no more Chayoung needs other than that line.

“And he has Chairman Jang with him,” Mr. Nam adds.

“Things will finally come to an end,” she smiles and Mr. Nam nods. But then there is quite ominous feeling with the muted pause.

“But, byeonhosanim…” Mr. Nam finally speaks, “Mr. Lee is…” and he starts sobbing.

Chayoung rises, “What about him?” she asks, a flood of worries come again.

“He… he is..” he sobs harder. Chayoung begins to panic, is he…? Tears rolling down on her cheek.

“He got stabbed on his chest and now is in emergency surgery,” Mr. Nam continues, “they aren’t sure if he will make it or not.”

Chayoung gasps, “No way,” she begins crying.

***

Mr. Nam steps out from the room and checking the situation before runs back to get Chayoung ready. Mr. Ahn supplied them information that he will meet Vincenzo for giving out passport and stuffs, it will be the last time he is in Korea, so they should hurry if they want to send him off.

Mr. Nam pushes her wheelchair and calmly walks pass through the nurse desk.

“Wait,” one nurse stops them. “Miss Hong?” she asks.

“Yes,” she answers.

“What are you doing?”

“We have a radiology appointment,” she says.

“Wait, let me check.”

Mr. Nam and Chayoung wait nervously.

“Oh, right. Okay, you can go.”

They both sigh in relieve and Mr. Nam pushes the wheelchair a bit faster while saying sorry because Chayoung looks like she gonna puke.

***

The road to the meeting point seems longer for Chayoung but lucky the traffic is not that worst. Her heart beats so hard and she thinks what should she say to Vincenzo, will she cry? No, she shouldn’t.

She gets a message in the middle of the road, it is from Dallae Omma.

𝙳𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚠𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚊.

Thanks, God.

“Mr. Lee’s surgery is success,” Chayoung announces and there is a very big relief sigh from Mr. Nam.

After a while, they are now in the corner near the meeting point. Mr. Nam then punches the horn to announce them they are arrived, as it looks like the other parties start to walk toward another car.

From her seat she sees Vincenzo, alive and well, then the lump in her heart suddenly gone. When their car stops, she opens the door as fast as she can and she can see him walks then runs toward her.

"You shouldn't move around." He holds both her hands tenderly as if she is a fragile glass.

"I'm okay,” she says as a matter of factly. "Now that I've seen you, I am okay.” And it really does, as if seeing him a bit more she can magically healed. But the reality says opposite. “You should go now,” she continues.

“There will be a lot of headaches for you after I leave,” he says.

"I can handle it." She says, assuring him that she is as strong as he believe. And her answer makes him smiles, the smile that she’ll miss a lot later. He hugs her then, something he’ll never do in the first time, but that doesn’t matter since it will be their last. Ever. He pats her back.

“You did well,” he whispers.

Her small hand caress his back in assurance and gratitude. She silently nods. “Be safe.”

"I'll get going." He says for the last time with a subtle hesitation.

"Hurry." She tells him sternly, more to herself because she can’t keep him standing there while Seoul polices are searching for him.

He then releases her hand and goes to Mr. Nam. He hugs him.

“Thank you for everything,” said Mr. Nam while sobbing hard.

“Goodbye, Mr. Nam.”

Mr. Cho then calls him to hurry. He looks briefly to Chayoung once again before he turns his heel opposite of her and gets in the car. She tries so hard not to cry. When the car goes of sight then she cries.

Addio, cuore mio.

#vincenzo #hong cha young #chayenzo #fanfiction #mine #shamelessly writing even i am not capable to write anything #i just need to put it out of my system so i am not thinking about vincenzo 24/7 #IT IS UNHEALTHY ALSKJALK #and thank you for reading it #glad you make it reading a disaster #he he

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smol-and-grumpy · 5 years ago

Text

Sweet Relief

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean suffers a serious case of blue balls.

Warnings: Friends to lovers trope? Smut, hand job, masturbation, dirty talk, a hint of daddy kink, a little crack too

WC: 2255

A/N: This was written for @spnkinkbingo, filling out my ‘dirty talk’ square.

Dean’s hormones are all over the fucking place and he’s annoyed, to say the least.

It has been what? Months. MONTHS! Since he got laid. And maybe, give or take, a week since he last had time to himself at all to rub himself off. For someone who gets it and does it regularly, it’s pure torture. He’s sure that if he doesn’t get a chance to get it out of his system any time soon, he’ll die of blue balls. They might burst into flames and fall off, maybe even explode in a thousand pieces and right about now, they feel like they weigh a goddamn ton.

Okay, he might be exaggerating, but also he is kinda not. It’s hard to keep a straight head, to be honest.

Dean chuckles at the thought of dying of blue balls. Thinks that it’s most likely not the ending Chuck wrote for him. He also thinks that it would actually be fun to see Chuck throwing a tantrum because things don’t go his way, but Dean’s eyes widened in shock all of a sudden. What if it is the ending Chuck wrote out for him? Because yeah, Chuck’s a fucking pervert and Dean can’t really put it past him.

“Dean?”

“Dean!”

Dean jerks from his daydream (daymare? What do you call when you have nightmares during the day anyway?), as an elbow nudges against his arm.

“What!” It comes out of him, more annoyed than he intends to.

“Woah, grumpy much?” Y/N snorts beside him.

They are in a diner, having a feast after their latest monster of the week. Across from him were Sam and Eileen who act all lovey dovey and it makes Dean wanna throw up sometimes. Not that he’s not happy for Sammy but ugh, he could go with a little less PDA. At least they should consider his aching balls. It really wouldn’t be too much to ask for, would it?

“I need to pee,” Y/N says shamelessly, nudging him some more but he’s still too lost in thought, and his cock is on fucking half-mast. What’s with that thing anyway? He’s almost forty-fucking-one. It should not be doing all these kinda things, really.

Dean feels her lift herself up on her hands that are braced on the table and the seat, leveling up just high enough to place her leg on the other side of him and heaving herself over him. Her bottoms brush against his thighs and crotch in the process.

“Woah, watch out, will ya?” Dean shouts grumpily.

Being upset doesn’t help though. Doesn’t help that his dick stirs again, and there’s a breeze of her perfume that still lingers in the air, mixed with her sweat and musk. Dean’s head starts to spin.

She rolls her eyes, while Sam sends him a glare. “Dude, she’s been asking you three times already, you wouldn’t even budge. What’s the matter with you?”

Dean doesn’t answer and keeps on eating the fries with a stern face.

***

Two more agonizing days had passed and every time Dean sat down and tried to ‘relax’ there was always something that required his attention. And all he wanted was to give attention to his fucking cock.

Dean brings in the groceries, dropping the bags onto the counter. “You need any help?”

“Nah. Dinner’s in about two hours. Y/N is coming over later with her findings,” Sam answers as he walks around Eileen and the woman laughs while she deliberately blocks Sam’s way.

Dean rolls his eyes, wants to get away from the cheesy couple, “K, I’ll be in my room.”

Fucking finally.

“Dean?”

“Dean,”

“Dean!”

The door opens and Y/N bursts into his room.

Dean’s instinct is to close the laptop but it was way out of reach from the position he’s in.

The position being, Dean spread on his bed, his back leaning against the wall, and he’s bottomless, holding his hard cock in his hand.

He’d rather his position being, somewhere in a hole on the floor with him burying himself as deep as he can go.

“Fuck,” Dean mutters under his breath, scrambles up quickly, and covers himself with a pillow.

It’s silent between them. He can hear crickets chirping in his mind.

Well, silent, except from the moans of a girl screaming Please, harder. Fuck me harder!

“‘M sorry,” She says, and Dean can see that her cheeks are flush, “I knocked and I called and you didn’t answer, so I thought something terrible must have happened.”

“It’s okay,” He mumbles, “Can you leave me alone now?”

“Were you,” She points with her index finger up and down.

“Duh, what did it look like?” He snarls.

She grins and closes the door before she walks towards the bed, “Want me to help?”

“Well…�� Dean huffs, “Yeah, but,” He feels nervous, “But why?”

He’s not gonna lie, a little help would be great.

“Because something came up and we need to leave soon. Maybe if I help it’ll be faster?” She was sitting down on the bed next to him now and Dean’s can’t explain why his dick’s still so hard even after the interruption.

“Come on big guy, move a little, let me get behind you.”

Dean’s eyebrows climb up his forehead.

“Just do what I say, can ya?” Y/N chuckles.

“Alright, alright!” He moves down the bed a little. The laptop is now closer and he reaches over in order to close it.

“No, leave it. It helps me too.”

Y/N stands up and takes off her shirt, losing the bra next and Dean can't believe his eyes. He’s not going to lie, he always thought that she was cute. Always wondered what’s underneath the layer of clothing, wondered how sweet she must taste, how he could make her call his name in ecstasy. Dean just never could act up on that, because he doesn't want to jeopardize the friendship they have.

“You too, Dean.” She grins, climbing on the bed and kneels behind him.

Of course Dean doesn’t have to be asked twice. His hands fumble at the hem of his henley and pull it over his head, throwing it on the heap of clothes on the floor.

“Good,” She smiles, “Now, eyes on the laptop, alright?”

“O..okay,” Dean swallows hard as he feels her body moving against his back, the peak of her nipples hardening against his skin.

Her nose brushes his temple, “Relax, and leave your hands on your sides,”

Dean can only nod.

“Lube?” She asks but before Dean can answer, she’s found it, “Nevermind, I got it.”

She opens the bottle, squirts a generous amount into her hand before she tosses the bottle on the bed somewhere.

Her hands then come around his body from the back, and Dean jerks at the first touch of her fingers on his cock. He moans shamelessly, and it makes her chuckle against his cheek.

“Good?” She asks as she kisses his shoulder, his neck, and she lets her tongue trail along his jaw.

“Fuck, yeah,” Dean’s cock throbs and leaks as she works him with both her hands, applying the right amount of pressure, squeezing harder at the head, eliciting a wrecked sound from his throat that Dean knows he should be ashamed of, but he can’t bring himself to care.

“Look at them, Dean. Look how deep he fucks her,” She sucks at his earlobe, licking up his shell, “Imagine it’s you,” She works her hand to the same rhythm of the couple fucking on the screen. Slow and deep. “If you want, you can imagine that it’s me.”

Dean turns his head to look at her and she just fucking winks.

“Eyes on the screen, cowboy,” She giggles and Dean complies.

Y/N sucks in a patch on his neck, a suction strong enough to draw blood to the surface. He wonders, if it’ll leave a mark, kind of hopes that it will.

“You have a beautiful cock, Dean. Always knew that you’re packed, never thought it’ll look so delicious, though.” One of her hands leaves his cock, works its way further down, cupping his sac, “Mmh.. I’d love to have a taste,”

“Y-you can,” He stutters, her hand squeezing his balls on the right side of painful.

Y/N chuckles lightly, “We don’t have time. Maybe next time,”

Dean dick twitches just by her mentioning that there’s a possibility of a next fucking time. Because fuck yeah, he’d love to show her what his cock is really good for.

Their eyes are back on the screen and she’s breathing next to his ear.

Oh my god, your cock feels so good, daddy! The girl on the screen screams and pants.

“Mmh,” She says, trailing her nose along his cheek and kisses him lightly as her hand abandons his balls. Her fingernails leave a wet trail along his body on their way up, until she brushes the pad of her finger against his erect nipple.

Dean moans.

“You’re so sensitive there, aren’t you?”

“Fuck,” Dean breathes out, his cheeks are burning.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Daddy I’m gonna come! The girl on the screen shrieks.

Dean’s cock twitches at the sound and Y/N works him faster as the guy plunges his dick into the girl, “You like that, Dean? Huh? Like it when I call you Daddy?” It twitches again, getting harder too, and Dean doesn’t even know that it’s possible.

“Yeah, you do,” She laughs softly before sucking at his shoulder and looking up at him. He’s too ashamed to look at her, instead, he keeps his eyes glued to the screen, “I would love to feel your cock in my pussy, Dean. Bet I’d have trouble working it in, it’s so big. I’d be so tight around you. But you’d feel so fucking perfect inside of me, I just know it.”

Fuck, he’s gonna blow just imagining it.

“You’d know how to use it, too, don’t you? You’d fuck me deep,” She pinches his nipple and Dean groans again. “Maybe I can get on top. Would you like for me to ride you, Daddy?”

Aaaand, there’s a twitch again.

Jesus fucking Christ!

“Your dick feels so hot and hard, you’re going to come, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh…” Dean can only manage to squeeze out some incoherent sounds past his throat.

“I’d ride you so good, Dean, my hands on your chest, pinching and tweaking your nipples while I grind down on your hard cock,” Her mouth is right behind his ear and Dean can feel her warm breath, “I’m soaking wet just thinking about it,” She kisses the back of his neck, “My cunt’s slick and tight, imagine me coming on your cock, Dean. My walls contracting around you, milking you for what you’re worth. Holding you captive. Both of us sliding, grinding wetly against each other,”

Fuck, he’d love to feel that.

“You have a petty face, Dean,” She works her mouth over to his throat, sucks at his pulse point, “I’d love to ride that, too. Would you let me, huh? I’d love for you to bury your face in my dripping pussy, working your tongue inside of me, I could come on your face, how does that sound?”

There’s a weird noise coming out of his throat and Dean knows that he should be ashamed, but he’s past caring.

“I’m on the pill and I know you’re clean, too. I’d let you finish inside of me, Daddy, shoot your load inside, making your cum leak out of me for days, that would be nice, huh,”

“Fuck yeah,”

“And just stay in there until your cock’s hard again and take me apart all over,”

“Shit, I’m -”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut. Both her hands are back on his cock. Y/N picks up the rhythm and he can’t help but buckle up, fucking himself into her hands.

“Come, Dean,” She leans over and to the side a little, and Dean opens his eyes to look at her. She had a stupid grin on her face and fuck, he just wants to kiss her.

He doesn’t even have to ask though.

“Come for me,” She whispers before she kisses him, and he fucking groans into her mouth before his tongue takes over. It’s messy and Dean let out more air into her mouth than he intends to but his climax makes him see fucking stars, it has been that long.

Y/N parts from the kiss and sits down, waits for Dean to come down from a fucking high and when he’s looking at her again, she fucking licks her fingers clean from his mess. She grins when she sees him staring, “Tastes good, Dean,”

He can’t help but chuckle, and turns himself around to attack her and she shrieks in delight when she finds herself pinned to the mattress. Dean looks down to himself briefly, sees that he’s still fucking hard, makes a mental note to brag to Sam about his stamina at almost forty-fucking-one.

Dean kisses her again, long, deep, fucking messy, tastes himself on her, doesn’t even fucking mind it.

“Let me help you.” He mumbles against her lips.

She laughs, “Maybe some other time, Sam and Eileen are waiting for us.”

“Don’t care,” Dean says, mouths along her neck downwards, seals his lips around her nipple, sucking them in and letting them out with a lewd pop, one by one. She has her hand in his hair, blunt nails digging into his scalp.

#spnkinkbingo #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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shesawriter39049 · 5 years ago

Text

|AFTER HOURS| M|

Pairing: Namjoon X OC

About- Your husband and business partner finds you up way past acceptable work hours for the 3rd night in a row! So, daddy has to step in and remind you that’s not something we do in this household. You come before work, in every sense of the phrase!

OR- Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in a open relationship with! Your in desperate need of a 2nd videographer/editor! So here you are, up at 1 AM scrolling through resumes because your that boss that hates to overwork her employess so she overworks herself!

Warnings:Daddy kink, Dom Namjoon, switch OC (More of a sassy/bratty sub)Top OC, Oral (F recieving) Light ass play, (Rimming), Dirty talk, Breath play, Spanking(Pain kink),Hair pulling, unprotected sex, light cum play, VERY LIGHT degration (He calls her a “little bitch” once but it’s playful still noting in case it offends ppl)The end hints at a threesum…...with a certain redhead

Tae is their sassy exec.assistant and makes a cheeky little appearance at the end.

Jonnie baby is tatted...LORDT

There a fun freaky little couple...

WC:6k

NOTE- This is kinda old and was set to be part 1 of an OT7 AU called “7 DEEP”

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“Really?” Goddamn, leave it to Namjoon to make one word sound just as sexy as it was intimidating!

You heard the footsteps fuck you did, you just opted to ignore them and hope maybe he’d just, I don’t know leave? Maybe he was just doing a wellness check? But, if that’s the case, as your tired, unfocused, half-lidded gaze caught the bottom right of your laptop screen, which was glaring back at you something vicious! You realize that you’ve royally fucked up, and its a cute little 2 am right now! So no, he’s not going any damn were, anytime soon….

“Baby” The word left his lips just as much disappointment as it did allure which is a hell of a combination I know, I know, but in all honesty, it fits the mood. You caught his visual briefly through the mirror mounted against the wall and fuck, your man is fine as all hell! Frame resting casually against the entryway, arms folded firm across the smooth chiseled planes of his caramelized tattooed chest. Oversized cat-eye glasses perched on top of that cute little button nose of his, A pair of loosely fitted sweats sitting low against his v-lines, the thin grey fabric left nothing to the imagination as he’d clearly opted against boxers tonight. Shoulders and arms flexing effortlessly due to his current position which screams nothing but “Your ass is in trouble”. Which I mean, your kinda here for...kinda not….

Only offering a low hum in response as you continued scrolling through mounds resumes and video reels that were currently clogging up the admin email that was typically reserved for Taehyung. And that’s when you hear his feet shuffle closer, and closer until there’s a heavy yet comforting weight pressing against your back. The temperature around you shifting, as he leans down, arms braced on the table on either side of your frame. His long, beautiful, veiny fingers pattering idly against the glass, showcasing an array of rings, one of them being his Cartier wedding band as his lips nuzzling into your neck. Nosing up and down your skin slowly, almost teasingly, just breathing you in until your shifting back against him, a strong chill running down your spine.

“We talked about this…” Voice low, seductive, yet stern and still clearly a little disappointed...nipping at your neck, not hard enough to leave a mark but just enough to make a point. Forcing yourself not to lean back into his touch no matter how bad you wanted to beg for more than just him grazing his teeth along your skin! You needed him to bite, hard, and he already knows it too, how much you get off on being marked..and that’s exactly why he’s not doing it...The little shit!

“I know but -” Namjoon reaches up to slam your laptop shut, sliding it and the stack of papers to the opposite end of your dining room table, that you’ve managed to convert to a makeshift office.

“We talked. About this” Simply parroting the words again, just slower this time as if to say you clearly must not have heard him correctly initially.

You sigh. Deep, slow, defeated, a nod rendering, out as a half-arsed response triggering Namjoon to pull back from you only to slide your chair from beneath the table. Shifting it to face him before dropping to a squat between your thighs. Gaze unwavering as he took in your blatantly exhausted appearance, still, he couldn’t help but melt as he reached out to caress your jaw feeling the way you nestled into it instantly. Your eyes fluttered shut briefly, as he smoothed his hands down your body, slipping beneath your robe to gently massage your thighs.

“So what the fuck, are you doin?” Brow arched as if he was daring you to actually respond, yet there wasn’t a single sharp edge to his voice, it was suddenly soft, calm. As if he was genuinely asking why you were doing this to yourself because he can’t make a lick of sense of it! You’re barely able to hold your eyes ajar right now yet you were out here working....

You couldn’t really handle the intensity of his gaze right now, more so because you knew he was right, you were so fuckin exhausted right now it’s unreal! Let’s also mention that the two of you have to catch a flight to Vegas for a business meeting in a good oh I don’t know 7 hours! So, instead of acknowledging that this was really stupid, you opted to reach for the one resume he didn’t manage to move out of reach. Eyes nervously scanning the paper as a distraction while you tried to think of a rational that even you’d believe at this point!

'Fuck, we just- I don’t know Joon, we just have so much going on right now! And you know I’ll never complain about us having too much work I mean, I'm grateful every damn day that we’re not where we were!”

You intentionally paused, letting “that” have its own moment because it's something to always be acknowledged! The two of you went from living in a 900sq ft apartment with 5 other people to effortlessly clearing 8 figures as of this last tax year. Humbled and grateful to be busy isn’t even the beginning of how you feel!

“But I just look at everybody...Yoongi’s responding to emails at fucking 3 AM! Jimin playing around docusign at the ass crack of dawn every damn day sending out contracts! Taehyung up scouting locations at 6 AM on a Sunday which is supposed to be his only day off I just- Everybodys in over their head so I thought I’d just- “ Namjoon reached up and grabbed your chin, snatching the paper out of your hand and forcing you to look him dead in the eyes.

“So thought you'd overwork my wife instead?”

You just shrug and nod again, tossing your hands in the air, it’s clear you have an attitude but it’s also clear it’s with yourself! You keep piling more and more on your plate instead of delegating it out to other people to handle! It’s a trust thing, and Namjoon know’s that, it started out with just the two of you, then for years it was seven , seven deep. It’s hard for you to let new people into something you and your husband built from nothing! However, Taehyung just got a part-time assistant of his own so he can go back to strictly being your right hand, and realistically, he’s salary! Your little Gucci boy probably doesn’t mind drinking his Starbucks and driving his BMW around LA looking for houses to film in! You could have spread the workload out a little you just fuck, I don’t know, you’re always that person to put people first to a fault I guess! Point being, Tae could easily handle this, tomorrow, during normal business hours, you could have and should have been in bed with your husband!

Namjoon can sense how uneasy you feel right now, almost like your a child being scolded and that’s not at all what he’s aiming for; he's just genuinely concerned. So he opts to ease the atmosphere just a little to remind you, that the two of you are always on the same playing field, he’s only reacting like this because he cares! Flicking the bottom of your chin before leaning in, pressing a firm, yet passionate kiss to your lips as if he’s trying to drive the point home, slipping his tongue past the seam almost instantly. Not even attempting to keep this somewhat chaste, needing you to feel every inch of infinite love and fire he has burning through his veins when it comes to you! Kissing you with enough force to knock the wind out of your chest, moaning contently as you give your husband free rein to explore your mouth. Turning the kiss slightly more delicate as he lets his hands slide even deeper under the robe to continue roaming your body. The slide of his tongue becoming softer, slower….as the pads of his fingers trickled up your spine.

Sucking your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls back “Were all busy baby, I get it, I hate seeing them like this too, you know I love them just as much as you do! And that’s exactly why we put out those ads, but that does not mean you get to take on everyone else’s shit! Don’t make me put in a complaint to HR about unfair treatment within the workplace!”Murmurs against your lips, as you stare down at his, barely paying attention to a damn thing he said!

“Joon I am HR…” You mumble low and unamused, eyes rolling to the back of your head in annoyance and he could give less than a damn. Leaning in with a smirk playing on his lips, leaving another lingering kiss against your own. Kissing you with enough fire to have every hair along your body standing on end! Until your practically chasing after him in a pout the minute he pulls away from you.

“Mmm, and my point still stands….” Namjoon's hands tighten around your hips, scooting you forward so your legs are wrapped around his waist. Your arms instantly lace around his neck, trailing your fingers upward, so they can get lost in his freshly dyed locks.

“Stop, overworking my baby! You know I don’t like it…” His delivery was just as much playful, as it was stern!

“Fuck, whatever okay, sorry!” You really weren’t at least not right now, there wasn’t a lick of conviction in that as you reached up to bring his lips back down to yours. Sliding in tongue first, capturing his lips in another opened mouth kiss, the rhythm quickly starts getting messy more so on your end because you’re getting needy! Namjoon tastes intoxicating and you’re blissed out of your mind, even after all these years, this man can still manage to have your toes curling with just a simple kiss! , Arching forward giving him easier access to grab you ass and he takes the hint, the faint sting of blunt nails digging into the swell of your ass has you whimpering out low and filthy against his tongue.

The kiss breaks much to your dismay but before you can even protest Namjoons tongue is lapping down the side of his neck, mapping out all the places he’s learned over the years. Nipping down on your flushed skin ever so often this time he’s biting with a purpose though, giving it to you just the way you like it.

“Y/n were done with work now right??” He can hear you panting out low and wanton into his ear once he attaches himself to the crook of your neck, sucking maliciously, an almost animalistic growl leaving his lips in the process. There’s a hint of frustration mixed in with arousal dripping off his tongue right now, your too caught up to notice!

“Namjoon '' You breathe out his name with nothing but lust pouring off your tongue, not an ounce of shame insight in regards to how needy you sound right now. The sound goes straight to Namjoon’s dick which is beaming at you like a spotlight through the thin fabric of his sweats. Tilting your head back, and anchoring one of your hands into your husband’s hair keeping him in place, overwhelmed with pleasure as you go completely pliant under his menstruations. Regardless, this man's self control was somethin’ serious,and he wasn’t giving in just yet...you still had one more cross to bear baby girl!

“Fuck. Please” Tugging on his scalp like the brat you tend to be, as if to emphasize your point, making Namjoon pull away licking up your jaw in the process. The drag was slow, messy, waving his tongue against your skin the same way he would your pussy and you felt yourself start to involuntarily clench harder and harder by the second.

“Hmm? What was that baby?” Tugging the shell of your ear between his teeth hard enough to make you whimper into his hair “Now you wanna come to bed?” You can feel him smirking against your skin and you just really don’t like your husband at all right now just so we’re clear.

All you do is whine in response, yanking his hair even harder until you feel a firm hand land on your ass making you yelp out of your seat.

Nam-fuck!” Hissed through clenched teeth, thighs tensing around his waist.

“So again…” Tone as coy and casual as can be as he winds his hand back only to land smack dab on the curve of your ass again, right in the same spot, you wouldn’t be surprised if his palm left an indentation behind!

Namjoon’s hand was literally pulsing against your skin the impact was so damn strong, all the metal dancing along his fingers didn’t help either! You swear the ripple echoed throughout your entire apartment, and the scream that left your throat was without a doubt noise complaint worthy! Fuck your gonna need to send them an edible arrangement or somehing, they already hate the two of you as it is…

Your panting and whining opened mouth right into his ear, and it’s getting you nowhere but horny and frustrated! Nails, digging little crescents into his shoulders as you try and almost reroute so of the pain that’s buzzing through your veins. But it’s good, it’s soo good, the slickness coating your inner thighs gave that away! Namjoon can smell how much you’re enjoying this, his little pain slut as he often likes to call you!

“You wanna stay out here all damn night. Work yourself into the ground. Leave me in bed alone, and now all of a sudden you think you get to boss daddy around? Hmm? Just because your pussys nice and wet and your feelin needy ...now you want to go to bed?” Namjoons tone is blatantly taunting and a little harsh yet the slight growl laced with it all has your head spinning far too fast to even be mad.

‘Oh my god, Namjoon just fuck me already! Shit!”

“Why the fuck should I do that? Could’ve had me hours ago baby, all I wanted to do tonight was fuck you, that’s all I wanted all damn day.” Slipping his hand between your thighs pinching your clit between his fingers, slowly rubbing the pads of his together on either side, stimulating your clit head-on until your groaning into the side of his neck.”Do you even, know, how hard it was for me not to just bend you over the conference room table today!?”

“Joon” You try again and he doesn’t budge, he actually let’s go of your clit all together and just teasingly trailing his fingers along your entrance never entering just driving you fucking insane! Looking as fine and unbothered as ever, as his lips ghost up the curve of your jaw.

“Hmm, let’s try this shit again.Why-” Bringing that same hand up to grip your jaw with enough pressure to indicate he wasn’t fucking around anymore. “Should I give you what you want when you continuously keep disobeying my only request? Hmm???” You can feel your own slickness against your skin, yet all you can focus on is the blatant aganer, and hurt running through your husbands veins. Even beneath all this bravado..he’s clearly really hurt about this, so play times over!

“Fuck, okay!” There was slight elevation to your voice, tetoring on yelling actually. The arch in Namjoons brow said you had about two seconds to fix that , but you already planned on it! Taking a deep slow breath, letting your eyes flutter shut to just...recenter yourself for a moment!

“Baby, I’m sorry. I’m. Sorry. ” There it was, not that bratty whiney shit you did earlier to get what you wanted, a genuine “I’m sorry” . Soothing your nails through his scalp, it’s almost instantaneous the way his demeanor shifts once those words fall off your tongue in a more..sincere fashion.

A low hum rang in the back of his throat at the admission, nosing at your cheek “Sorry for what exactly? Because I don’t want it if you doing this just to appease me baby. That won’t do shit for me. ” Namjoon’s tone is a lot softer now, all of the prior theatrics and pettiness is gone as he awaits your response.

“No, Joonie baby, no!” Pressing a soft but firm kiss to those sinfully plump lips of his that you still can’t get enough of no matter how many years go by…”No”

“ As your partner, I gotta look out for me just as much as I look out for you and I clearly haven’t been! I know better! And I should be taking advantage of the fact that we’re lucky enough to now be in a position where I can hire an array of people if need be. It’s just- you know I’m a control freak, this business isn’t just a business it’s our baby!”

You watch his mouth open in protest and you just simply continue speaking “But regardless, I know it’s not more important than me, or my health I know…” You instantly feel the tension within his body dissipate at that, thumbs kneading at your hips.

“ I’m sorry, I love you and I’m sorry I’m not trying to stress daddy out!'' There's a slight playfulness to your delivery trying to lighten the mood a little though you know how serious this topic is for him! You find yourself wiggling in his hold trying to somehow get even closer than you already were.

So here’s the thing, back when you were in college just starting out, the two of you had a lot on your plate! Between school juggling multiple jobs, internships, and just trying to figure out how to even start a company of this caliber….The level of exhaustion he often saw you at was utterly heartbreaking. The number of times you passed out due to lack of sleep is unmentionable… so seeing you like this...was fucking unacceptable in Namjoon’s eyes!

You notice those big brown orbs of his get a little glassy so you grip the back of his neck even tighter dropping your forehead to his. Feeling like complete and utter trash right now!

“This business is not more important than my wife, my partner, my best friend...it’s not! However, you are more important than, all of it, this fuckin overpriced apartment, all the shiny little toys we’ve been able to buy, and this entire company in general! I love you, but I need you to look me in the eyes and fucking promise me that you’ll stop this! Please…”

You can hear a slight trimmer laced within that deep honey-coated tenor of his and the sudden vibrato’s foreign, and you’re not a fan! It took everything in you not to cry at the blatant plea rolling off his tongue, well aware this man does not beg! So instead you just leaned in and kissed him, hard, slow, just letting everything you couldn’t really articulate pour from your lips to his and hope he got the message.

“I promise, I love you…I promise!”

“And you know I fuckin love you…” You do, fuck you do, even if this marriege was high key an accidnet..it’s without a doubt one of the best things that’s ever happened to you!

“I know”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck, yeah”

Ducking down, kissing you reckless and with fevour, messy, wet, teeth clacking together. Slowly transitioning the mood from deep and touching to just...raw and nasty which is kinda what you’d prefer at the moment!

“I wasn’t lyin when I said I’ve wanted to fuck you all damn day though…”

“Please” you whisper out as he pulls back to lick down your neck, pressing your chest together to give him better access. Sucking his mark in a spot right beneath your jaw, well aware you’ll need an ass-ton of conclear within the next couple of hours, but right now you could care less!

“Please what baby? Tell daddy, what you want?” Namjoon presses, biting his lip and sliding his hand back between your legs groaning out at how completely drenched you are right now.

“Fuck me!” You pant out low and whiney

“You want it here baby? You want daddy to bend you over the table?” The familiar hunger that was back in his eyes was so fucking sexy and it had you rutting against him for any ounce of stimulation!

“No.Bedroom” Namjoon moans in agreement, securing your thighs around his waist and scoping you out of the chair, heading towards the opulent master suite the two of you shared.

Once inside he throws you down on the bed, hard and almost animalistic, making you bounce a little against the firm California king. Namjoon follows immediately, crawling over to cover your body with his own, his broad form completely engulfing your frame. Ripping your robe apart, and letting your tongues meet once more. Hot slick, and eager as you pant out hot and heavy against one another. Soothing is palm down your stomach, cupping your entire heat in his palm. Moaning out that it feels just fuckin like that. Wet and warm, so damn warm...ducking his head down to lick your nipple into his mouth, sucking slow but hard at the same time, nipping and grazing the bud between his teeth.

“Fuck” You moan back arching off the bed and into your husband’s mouth, as he licks trails across your sternum and over to your other nipple. While also stroking his entire palm against your pussy, Namjoon’s always loved how responsive you are to him even after all these years. Just letting his tongue lave over the buds over and over, alternating between, licking, sucking, and biting so your body never gets used to the stimulation.

“You fuckin, love this shit don’t, you? Bet I could get you to come just like this...wouldn’t be the first time, would it?” You can feel his lips curling into a smirk around your nipples the harder he sucks, bringing his other hand into the mix, the one that’s nice and slick with your arousal. Using it to twist and turn your nipple between his nimble fingers until he can’t tell if your arching into the pain or away from it. He can feel you grinding against his thigh, more importantly, he can feel your clit sticking to his thigh your so damn wet, soaking straight through his sweatpants. Moaning out loud and unfiltered, eyes shut as you rock your hips against him, your hands getting lost in your hair the harder you rock against the bed.

“Fuck, look at you baby, rubbing your sweet little cunt against my thigh..” A low almost arrogant chuckle rumbling in his throat, vibrating against your skin making you moan even louder. “Fuck, here I was thinking you wanted to come on my dick...”

“Fuck- I do, I wanna come all over you, want your mouth too though…” Reaching out to play in his hair, almost pushing his face down even harder, though you swear you can feel his lips curl into a wicked little smile at that moment.

“Yeah? You want daddy's tongue all over your pussy…” He didn’t even bother phrasing it as a question, especially once he meticulously started rolling his tongue along your nipples, in a oh too familiar motion that had you turning into a whiny brat within seconds!

“Namjoon!” He doesn’t even respond, just pulling off and flipping you right on to your stomach, hard and fast, making you damn near choke on your own spit. Face pressed into your fresh linen sheets.. You start to slightly arch your back on insctint. You feel him shift off the bed, peeping over your shoulder to see his sliding off his sweats, stashing his glasses in his side pocket. Namjoons length is just standing straight up, damn near laying flat against his stomach and you straight up moan, mouth-watering at the sight alone. A pleased hum leaves those plump lips of his as he shuffles back onto the bed. Kissing and licking his way up the back of your thighs until he reaches your ass, straddling your hips.

Palm rubbing at the swell of your ass before smacking it, lightly at first, and your hip twitches you actually have the nerve to giggle. “That all daddy’s go-fuck” Another. Scream. Literally. Scream as he reels back even harder than he did earlier, just keeping his hand intact too, wanting you to feel the trob, the ache, radiating off his palm to your ass.

“Hmm what was that baby?” Leaning down to spread your cheeks apart, just blowing a trail, against your pussy, watching the way your hole clenches from that alone. “Always so fuckin wet and ready for me…”

He groans and you, arch your back, even more, moaning out slightly at the contrast hitting your skin. Bracing both hands on your ass and he can hear your breathing shutter in your chest, already anticipating the first drag of his tongue. Dipping one thumb over you rim, just circling it gently, feeling you jerk at the sensation, no matter how light, fuck your still so damn sensitive. That will never stop amazing him, it’s been almost 8 years. Yet you still react like it’s the first time he’s ever touched you like he’s still helping you explore new places along your own body! Namjoon leans forward, nipping, licking, and sucking, open mouth kisses, against the backs of your thighs, before leaning down to kiss your clit. Tongue and all, sucking it straight into his mouth, moaning out deep and strong around the bud. Inhaling slowly as if he's breathing you in and your knees already start to buckle, nails clenching around the sheets.

A broken moan of his name being muffled into the fabric, as he rolls his tongue in deep, languid strokes up and down your folds, licking from front to back. Your wetness is already painted all over his face and he wouldn’t have it any other way, as he continuously, maliciously sucks down on your clit, gently grazing the skin between his teeth just enough to make you squirm. Bringing his tongue to lather over your rim and he feels how hard you start shaking, sliding in two fingers into your heat, knuckles deep at the exact moment he slips his tongue past your rim. The vision that is you, open, needy, and whiney, on all fours...is driving your husband absolutely insane! How quickly you’re falling apart, knees spreading even wider to give him all the access he needs to do with you as he pleases.

“Yeah..” You sign, blissed out of you goddamn mind ‘Fuck”

Your voice drips in the whiniest tinge of need imaginable like you’ve been aching for this, and the sounds richotect straight off your tongue and into Namjon’s lap! Your chest drops forward, letting Namjoon essentially all support your weight, as his tongue dives in even deeper, while continuously fucking you open with his fingers, he’s already added a third one. Mind completely spinning at how hard your clenching around all three of his fingers, cock throbbing at how good you’ll feel around him soon enough. You feel him pull back to spit right along your rim, watching it drizzle down toward your clit, he picks the trail up with his tongue and leads it where he wants it to go. Namjoon moans out, low, and content as he really starts to eat you out your tongue and fingers working your pussy open until your voice hitches in your throat and shatters. Ripping, a long drawn out whimper to leave your throat.

“That feel good?” He murmurs low and taunting, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, as if he can’t physically tell he feels good.

“I’ve had better”

He bites your cheek playful, a snort leaving his lips “Fuckin same..” slurs out against the swell of your ass and you can’t help but cackle.

“Fuck, I bet you have now, stop talking and get your fucking tongue back in ME!!” Bossy as ever, damn near pushing his head down and he reaches up, biting the side of your hand forcing you to stop.

“How about my cock instead?” Leaning back to smack his length aginst your ass a couple times, letting you feel how hard and ready he is.

“Yeah! God yeah, fuck yeah! Gimme! In me now! Fuck me!!” All your prior teasing is gone, just the mention of his cock has you needy and clenching painfully hard around his fingers, while also simultaneously rutting back against them as if you don’t want him to pull out. Pulling his fingers out slowly. Curling them upwards, purposely coating his fingers in your arousal to use to lather his cock which is so hard right now it’s almost painful.

“Daddy” Wiggling your offensively empty ass in his face, making him chuckle, and smack it lightly. before gripping your thigh and flipping you onto your back with such ease it was almost offensive.

“Nam-”

“Fuck off” Leaning down and stealing your breath and sarcasm away with a deep kiss “I wanna see my baby..” Lining himself up to your entrance, you exhale softly against his mouth as the blunt head of his cock breaches your entrance. Hiking your leg around Namjoon’s waist to make him slide in even deeper.

“Yeah, fuck”

“I hope you don’t think…” Shifting forward wiggly his hips a little, giving you half a second to adjust to how fucking big this man is! “We’re about to make love or some shit, because I’m about to break your ass..” There’s just as much of a smile as there is a dangerous edge to your husband’s voice, that has you beaming up at him. Before you even had time to think of a response he was snapping his hips forward hard enough to have the two of you scooting up the bed a little.

Namjoon, propped your leg even higher over his shoulder, as he snapped his hips forward again, even harder this time. You moaned out, and scurried to grab onto your husband’s neck to anchor yourself as he fucked into you hard and fast, you tried to arch and fuck him back but it was hard with how intense he was pounding into you!

“Oh my godddd” You drawled out, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Yup, Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been called that, in this position.....” You could hear the smile in his voice as he continued fucking you like he was trying to split you open with his cock. Nails clawing into his back hard enough to break skin!

You could’ve just laid there and took, it because fuck if it wasn’t good, but that’s not the mood you were in at the moment. So you dropped your leg from his shoulder and wrapped them both around his waist. Tipping your hips forward, clenching down hard around his cock as you started grinding your hips against him. Fucking him back the same way he was giving it to you. Hard and smooth..

“Y/n” He half growled half whined as you smiled up at him, something wicked, releasing your hold around his cock only to clench down even harder. He groans in what seemed like frustration reached down to smack pinch your clit between his fingers hard enough to make you cry out his name. Arching forward even harder.

“Yeah, daddy like that, fuck.Me.just like that” you were breathless but the sass was clear as day, a slight chuckle leaving your throat.

“Fuckin brat!” Reaching down with the same hand that was on your clit, wrapping it around your windpipe, adding just enough pressure to have your eyes rolling to the back off your head. The added stimulation throwing off your rhythm a little but you didn’t care, he had you…

“Yesss,yes, fuck!” His tattooed chest was flushed and covered in sweat as you continued fucking back against his cock, which was warm and continuously pulsing side of you. Filling you up and sliding completely out every single time. Your hole twitched painfully hard as the two of you worked in sync thrusting against each other in a smooth yet malicious rhythm, the sound of skin slapping you moaning, Namjoon grunting...

Fuck an edible arrangement maybe the two of you should treat your neighbors to a spa weekend or something because they damn sure aren’t sleeping right now!

“Ya know, if you would’ve came to bed earlier” He panted right into the side of your ear, still rolling his hips into you “I could’ve fucked you, came inside you” Leaning down to lick up the side of your jaw “Licked all, of my come out of you, and then” Pulling back and snapping his hips up even sharper, as if to accentuate every word “Fucked.You.All.Over.-Fuck-Again” Every thrust had the wind being knocked out of your chest “ But now..we don’t have tim-”

Reaching up to twist his nipple between the tip of your nail, kneeing him in the stomach just enough to make his hips stutter and have him shuffling back so you can push him onto his back which he falls to willingly. That is, until you literally bounced down onto his dick, damn near gagging in the process he feels so deep in this angle. Almost tempted to feel up your sternum and see if he’s poking through.

“You little bitch” Chokes from his throat with a stated smile the tones playful and airy, digging his nails into your ass, letting out an involuntary gasp as he rolls his hips up. Only for you to start rolling your hips back, again, and again, and again, in deep, slow, circles, switching up the pace a little from what it was before. Making sure your clit grazes against his pelvic bone every time.

“Yeah, fuck you” Your breathless, and tired, but you can’t help but smile at how completly fucked out he looks right now, eyes barley ajar, jaw tight, he looks so damn good!

“Yeah, yeah, fuck daddy baby..fuck me..” It’s clear he’s only egging you on but fuck if it’s not working,he sounds down right sinful as you ride him. His moans are deep, loud, almost needy, at every roll your hips make, and it’s intoxicating! Reaching up and grabbing you down by your neck , licking his way back into our mouth, his grip is strong enough to without a doubt leave a bruise. Both of you moaning out pleased and needy as you start slamming your hips down meeting his upwards thrust. Instantly matching the pace he’d set. Namjoon pulls back, and slips three fingers into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat to make you gag a little. Exchanging the grip he held on your neck for the back of your hair, as he brings his other hand down between your bodies to play with your clit, before licking his way back into your mouth.Feeling the way your thighs start to shake as you cry out against his tongue barely able to kiss him back at this point .

“Your fuckin close baby, your pussy’s just screamig around me..” He’s breathless, not even trying to hide it anymore, voice horse and dripping with arousal. “Goddamnn I love you…” You clench so damn hard around him at that..I actually don't think anything turns you on more than hearing your husband say that. Especially sounding all fucked out and needy.

“Love you too baby..so fuckin much… “

“Good” He chuckled low and dark agaisnt your lips “Now come, all over my cock like a good girl” Fucking into you faster and harder, hand still rubbing blunt circles around your clit, tightening the grip he holds on your hair until your roots burn “Y/n , baby, my baby, come for me, come for daddy...”

It only took a few more thrusts before your orgasm ripped through you and you were crying out your husband's name, body spasming on top of him. Yet you still didn't stop rutting against him until he came in. You couldn't, you needed to feel it, body running away from him just as much as it was running towards him! You can feel how hard your clenching and its involnaty this time,so he reaches up with both hands rolling your hips against him one more time before slamming you down onto his cock. Just holding you in place while you continue to pulse around him, body shattering to pieces.

“Namjoonnnn fuck-fuck-fuck-” He grounds you agaisnt his cock as he jerks his hips up hard and fast, eyes squezzing shut, neck arching off the pillow, as his relase washed over him. A long drawn out moan of your name slipped off his tongue as he came, hard, hips stilling making sure to fill you to the brim, until he's sure he released every last drop he had to give..His own body shuttering in ovesentivty at this point. Namjoons fingers slowly soothed up your thighs, both of you panting painfully hard, wincing at the contact as you continue pulsing around him. Eyes locked in a half lidded gaze, a smile that started on your lips and ended on his as the two of you racked over each other's forms, hot sweaty, marked up, and fucked out.

“Namjoon” You finally say, breaking the silence, a slight moan hanging off your tongue and he smiled back at you, reaching up to grip the back of your neck.

“Y/n” Parroting your name with the same lust filled drawl that you had, making you moan…

Nam-fucking-Joon” Leaning down to place a firm kiss to his lips, humming out instanly at the contact.

“Y/n Kim….”

“Yup, that’s me!” Smiling out tired and dazed against his lips, while you felt his hand soothe up and down the curve of your back.

“I love you”

“And, I love you”

The two of you laid there like that for a moment, until his cock was completely soft and he gently slid out, still keeping you flush against his chest….just sitting in comfortable silence, breathing together..until..

“ Oww!! What the fuck was that for ?!” Your poor ass...at least it’s a pinch and not a smack this time...

“I mean it. I love what we do and I know sometimes realistically it happens there are only so many hours in a day I understand that. We wouldn’t be where we are if we didin’t work our asses off! But you’ve been doing this and running on fumes all damn week! I’ve just been watching from afar and keeping my mouth shut, hoping that you would sort it out yourself but I couldn’t watch you burn yourself into the ground anymore. Y/n. I’m serious! “

You can feel the weight behind his words, the way his heart seems to be beating harder now than it was when the two of you were having sex.

So you lean down to press a kiss on his lips that almost seems far too delicate and out of place for what just happened only moments prior.

“I know.”

Namjoon holds your gaze for a second longer before cupping the side of your face and kissing you firm and sweet, smiling against your lips once he feels you sigh into it. Hesitantly he pulls away and heads towards the bathroom and he already hears you whine in protest. Just flagging his hand in your direction, not even bothering to turn around.

“We literally have a 9 AM flight and an 11:30 business meeting at the Plaza! Meaning, you have to be dressed and fully ready when we hop on the plane. Your fuckin showering..now. I don’t wanna hear it. ”

Honestly, you were far too tired to protest and the tone of his voice let you know you wouldn’t win anyway! So I mean, fuck, at least there’s a bench in the shower!

“Ugh, fuck, fine! Come carry me! I have to preserve my energy to walk in my Louboutins tomorrow!!!” Making grabby hands in his direction knowing damn well he can’t deny you anything.

“You mean today!” You heard his voice echo off the tiles and hoenstly he seems far to chipper to remind you have of, which only makes you whine even louder!

Heading back out the bathroom with a smirk on his face, shaking his head in dismay as he scoops you effortlessly into his arms. “Come here you little brat!”

“Your brat!” You fire back, with nothing but smugness rolling off your tongue as you loop your arms around his neck, kissing his dimple.

“Fuck yeah you are, my brat, my wife, my fuckin baby” Inviting his tongue back into your mouth as he leads the two of you back into the bathroom!

The two of you moved together lazily whilst in the shower, taking turns washing each other, slow touches and kisses. Murmuring sweet nothings mixed in with business because though you tried to leave work at work...sometimes it’s impossible!

Not even bothering to look at the clock once you finally melted into your bed, honestly, you didn’t even wanna know.

~~~

Far too soon the sound of all 6 of your alarms went off, ya know, the “Okay I should get up but I don’t have to get up” All the way to the “Fuck, I’m late!” Alarm! They all went off until you found yourself practically being scraped off the floor and led into the guest room that the two of you converted into an additional closet and a place for you to get ready in peace!

Sitting down, Starbucks in hand as you set out to beat your face, do your hair and try not to look like you stayed up until 1 am then got fucked into the mattress until you damn near cried!

The Starbucks was curiosity of Taehyung who had keys and free reign to your apartment whenever we felt so inclined. The redhead welcomed himself into your space, waltzing over in your direction with an all-knowing smile on his face. Ducking down to leave a slow lingering, open mouthed kiss along the one mark on your shoulder you apparently forgot to cover this morning. You can feel him smirking against your skin,as he pulls back to flop down on the pink furry chair currently covered in rejected outfit choices. Trying to force yourself to ignore the sudden chill that rang through your body because you didin’t have the time or the engery for anything else.

‘Why aren’t you wearing this? Your ass looks fuckin great in this!” Holding up a black halterneck Jumpsuit, brows furrowed in the center of his face.

“I know, but, it needs to be steamed and I don’t have the time..” A feigned pout playing on your lips as you batted your lashes at him through the mirror. Watching as he slid off the chair, with an exasperated huff, eyes rolling to the back of his head more times than you can count. Heading towards the steamer you had hanging along one of your many clothes racks.

“Thank you, baby!!” Blowing him a kiss that he swatted away in the process!

“Yeah, yeah! Soo I see someone was impatient and went through the resumes last night…At fuckin midnight!” Eyes glaring in your direction, you could hear the frown in his voice. “Y/n-“

“Don’t!” Eyes narrowing in his direction through the mirror “Daddy Joon already got in my ass enough about last night for all of you!”

“As he fuckin should! That’s what you have me for baby, so you aren’t doing that shit to yourself anymore!” You can tell he’s trying to sound authoritative but instead, he just sounds sad and equally disappointed!”

“I know, Tae, I know, I’m fuckin workin’ on it!.” Your delivery comes out a little sharper than you intended but he’s known you far too long to take it personally or even fully acknowledge it honestly!

“Speaking of, I actually met this kid, not fully a kid he’s like 21, but anyway he just graduated from USC, for some sort of Film. I actually ran into him at Starbucks today and he’s supposed to be sending me his resume and some video reels in a little while.”

A low hum ringing in the back of your throat, far too focused on carving out your brows to talk...but he took that as a hint to continue.

“His name is Jungkook, he seems somewhat promising just from talking to him, so, I’ll feel it out and if it seems worth your time I’ll forward over his information! I’m also going to try and set up a couple of interviews for you and Joonie next week!”

Offering a faint nod in response, still far too focused on your makeup to give much else, or realize the sudden fire burning in Taehyung's eyes as he watches you get ready. Silk robe hanging loosely off your frame, a pair of white lace panties peeking out...

“What time were the two of you trying to get dropped off at the airport?” The sudden shift in conversation, and the blatant octave change had your eyes meeting him through the mirror. Trying to feel out his mood…

“In the next hour or so…” Then there’s Namjoon, standing in the doorway wearing nothing but his dress pants, an unbuttoned silk shirt, and a smirk that screams nothing but trouble.

“Come’re” The bass in Namjoon’s voice alone has chills running down your spine, a second away from shifting out of your seat until you realize he’s not talking to you. Flicking his finger in the redhead’s direction, edging him off the wall slowly. Biting his lip as he sways coyly in your husband’s direction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE! FOR NOW, IF YOU LIKED IT.. ,SHOW THIS SOME LOVE AND I’LL CONSIDER ADDING TO IT! I DID MAP OUT THE FIRST 3 CHAPTERS LAST YEAR WHEN I STARTED THIS BUT I DIDN’T PHYSICALLY WRITE THEM! BTW I KNOW I DIDIN’T MENTIONED ALL OF THEM, BUT ALL O BTS MINUS KOOK WORK FOR THE OC AND NAMJOON!

MASTER LIST

#namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #namjoon au #bts #bts smut #bts au #bts fanfic #bts poly #taehyung #taehyung au #kpop #kpop smut #kpop au

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the-hopeless-haze · 4 years ago

Text

Someone to Need You Too Much (Being Alive Chapter 4)

(not my gif)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Read on Archive

CONTENT WARNING: This chapter mentions past sexual abuse. It is par for the course in what you’d expect in an SVU episode but I am mentioning it here because it concerns the reader.

This is when Rafael usually starts checking out.

But you weren't how women normally acted at this stage, hell, the two of you hadn't even made it official yet or told the squad.

You needed him, though, in ways he wasn't used to being needed, having been single for so long. You'd call him if you hadn’t seen him over at the precinct, ask him how his day went and talk about yours, and you'd get him out of the office to go to dinner at least once a week.

But you never said this, you never verbalized that you needed him there, you never nagged, never made him feel bad if his work got in the way and he had to reschedule. Maybe it's because you were busy too, or maybe you were just that understanding. Either way, he’s surprised the two of you haven’t gotten into a fight more serious than work-related spats.

Rafael had been right, as this was fun at least for now, and maybe if all you needed him for was weekend dinners and the occasional Broadway show, that’d be fine. Your sense of humor matches his, you drink scotch, you smell lovely... but you had been pulling away recently; in fact, you hadn’t called him since you went out to dinner last weekend. He tries to chalk it up to you being busy with work, but he can’t fight the anxiety that the end is already here. Why the hell did he even give this a half-assed shot? Of course you weren’t genuinely interested. Of course you’d be another tally mark, another notch in his belt- and it’s not like he was truly upset, because he had figured it would end at some point the second he agreed to take you to dinner, and thankfully, the squad didn’t know yet. Still, though, this soon? It’d barely been two months.

Or maybe your withdrawal was due to that time you were making out with him on the couch - and you’d suddenly pushed him off, went to the bathroom, and didn’t kiss him the rest of the night. He broke out an expensive bottle of wine, then, and tried his best to genuinely apologize, because he did feel awful - but you’d told him he’d done nothing wrong, and that you just needed time. But maybe you’d lied to make him feel better; maybe he had pushed you too far, which truly wasn’t his intention. Rafael may be a dick, but working sex crimes gave him a much better respect for the responsibility of a man to make sure his partner was comfortable with what was happening in the bedroom (or on the couch, or wherever). But Jesus, he’d barely touched you, and he made a point to be more careful with you than anyone he’d ever been with, not just because of your age, but because he figured that your irreparable damage had been of a sexual nature, whether it was a bad boyfriend who didn’t take your needs into consideration or something more serious due to your conversation with Olivia months prior.

With that in mind, Rafael decides it’s more probable that it is work that was causing you to distance yourself rather than anything he may have done. The cases with children were always difficult, for anyone, really, but especially you. And this man? He targeted disabled children specifically, and you weren't doing well. He wonders how he could go about asking to take you off it without you finding out and without Olivia interrogating him as to why he cared so much. It's not like you're not putting in the work; in fact, it's the opposite, if anything, you're drowning yourself in it. Every time he stops by the precinct, you barely say a hello to him, and you're buried in a case file or researching something on your laptop, biting your nails down to the quick. You were always invested in your work, but not like this, and Rafael was a workaholic if there ever was one, but even you were stressing him out right now. He has half a mind to search your purse for a new pack of cigarettes, but he doesn't think you'd take too kindly to that.

When he gets to the precinct later this morning, you’re not there, though, and he asks Carisi why reluctantly. He frowns, looking genuinely upset. “She’s not taking this too well, Barba. I know she wants to be here, but it hits home for whatever reason, and Searge made her take the rest of the day off and probably tomorrow. She was crying when she left, but she wouldn’t talk to me. I mean, whatever it is, I don’t think she should be questioning the suspect, but she’s good with the kids, you know?”

Rafael would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little worried, but he figured you’d turn up of your own accord if you needed to talk.

And later on, early in the afternoon, you do.

"Are you busy?" you ask, standing in his office doorway awkwardly.

"Always,” he says, but he takes his feet off the desk and puts down his legal pad. “What brings you out here? Carisi told me Liv sent you home.”

"I...I need to talk. I don’t want to be alone right now,” you say anxiously.

"Okay. Sit down," he says.

You oblige, sitting in the seat across from his desk, but you’re still trembling. "My brother is disabled."

It all makes sense now, why this case, in particular, was hurting you so much. God, if this case turned his stomach, what did it do to you?

“He... he was raped, too. It was my dad’s best friend... basically his brother. We used to call him uncle. He was a teacher, and he’d pick us up after school a lot and bring us back home to watch us. I...I’m older than my brother by two years, and I joined the soccer team in middle school and that man would be alone with him. I just... I... my brother couldn’t voice it, not the way you and I can. Most nine-year-olds can’t anyway, you know, but because of the disability... he had no idea. He didn’t know the words to explain what happened to him, but he would start saying he didn’t want to go home with this man. My parents both worked long hours, and they were on the outs anyway, so they just thought he missed them and didn’t look into it. They trusted that man... and I did too. Until... one day a game was canceled because of rain, and I walked in, and...”

You stop talking, silent tears falling from your eyes. Rafael gets up, coming round to the edge of the desk to stand closer to you.

“Hey. Take your time,” he whispers, leaning over and putting a hand on your shoulder. “I know this is hard.”

You nod, looking up at him. “I barely knew what sex was at that time. I didn’t really know what to call it, but I knew my brother was getting hurt, that the man was taking advantage of him, and maybe I should’ve called my mother or my father or the police, but I didn’t. I froze for a few moments and then I did the only thing that came to me and I tried to pull him off my brother. It worked, I scared him enough to make him stop but he grabbed me and...he did the same to me. I just remember it hurt so bad... like he was tearing me in half.”

Rafael shudders, but even still he’s in awe of your brazenness even at 11 years old. Just going right in and apprehending the perpetrator. You were born a detective, in a way.

You’re sobbing, now, and really, he can’t blame you. Suddenly, you get up, throwing your arms around him, and if you were ever in need of a hug, he supposes after recounting this story would be the prime time.

“Hey, hey, shhh. No one’s gonna hurt you now, (y/n),” he murmurs, running his hand over your hair. “Lo siento. Shhh. Shh.”

He calms you down a little bit, whispering condolences in Spanish and kissing the top of your head. Rafael doesn’t know exactly what to do as he’s never been good at comforting anyone. It’s something his exes would yell at him for time and time again, assuming his awkwardness meant that he didn’t care they were upset. It’s just something he wishes he could avoid, that everyone could sort out their issues alone as he did. But that was a joke, wasn’t it? Like he’d sorted anything out in these four decades of being alive. He repressed them, sure, but healed from them? No. And maybe it wasn’t fair to expect everyone to live that way.

And again, he can’t really blame you for needing someone right now, even though he sort of wished it wasn’t him (and he does feel guilty for thinking that, but it’s still true). What you’d gone through, well, it was unthinkable, and he imagines you relive it through the eyes of your brother every time you talk to one of these victims. What solace could Rafael give you right now besides, “Oh, honey, it gets better”?

Fuck that. Maybe it did get better, or you got better yourself, but none of that was going to come from Rafael trying to manifest it with his meaningless words. Rafael presumes another reason you came here besides your (ongoing?) fling was because he wasn’t an SVU detective and wasn’t going to revictimize you. So, instead, he asks what a lawyer would ask. “Did he get convicted?”

“Yeah. He did get put away,” you continue, as you pull away from him a little, still holding onto his arms. “It took me a while to come to terms with it, but I couldn’t let him continue to do that to my brother. I told my parents within the week.”

“Did your father believe you?” he asks, unsure if that was insensitive to ask.

“My father definitely didn’t want to believe it at first, but he always believed me for everything. We were always close, still are. My mother... I think she felt she failed as a mom for not noticing it, so she was in denial for a while. The detectives that dealt with it... they didn’t even look into the school, they just tried him for our case. And I always hated them for that, when I was old enough to realize.”

“Is this why you became a detective?” he asks quietly.

“Well, sort of. I wouldn’t have if I didn’t know about SVU; that’s why I have all those psychology credits too. I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to do. I always wanted to come to New York, though, and you know, I thought I’d be able to help children who went through the same thing my brother and I did. I just didn’t think it’d be this hard,” you say, looking up at him.

“Of course it’s hard. SVU is hard for me, too, and I haven’t experienced anything like that,” he says, swallowing thickly. But that was a lie, in a sense, as he'd been beaten before by the hands of his own father and watched his mother suffer as well. There was a reason he was distant during domestic violence cases. He hopes you don't notice this omission, and he looks at you sympathetically instead.

“I thought I could handle it, though, and not act like a basket case,” you say, turning away from his gaze. “How am I supposed to help anyone if I get sent home?”

“Why did Liv send you home?” he asks, again wondering if he was asking the questions you needed to answer. A good part of his job was figuring out the right questions to ask, but this was overwhelming. “Not that I don’t agree, but I’m just wondering what she said."

You roll your eyes, sniffle a little. “She said it wasn’t good for my mental health to be around the suspect and that I was going to stress out the parents. No one on that squad knows what it’s like to live with and love someone with a disability, Rafael, and I just... I want to be there. I could help, if she’d let me.”

“Now isn’t the time to beat yourself up. I think the time off will be helpful to you," he says, squeezing your shoulder again. Wasn't that the catch-22? You join these professions to help people like yourself, but you hurt yourself in the process and become of no use. He thinks back to the first domestic violence case he was put on, a family not unlike his own, and it nearly broke him down, nearly made him quit and throw away those seven years of education. But he didn't. And you wouldn't walk away either.

“How is your brother doing now?”

“Ben - his name is Ben - he’s doing better. He's very shy, and he can get anxious and have panic attacks. He has fragile X syndrome, and that’s what caused his autism... I used to try and take him out everywhere with me once I got a car, to help him get used to talking to people. It doesn’t help, you know, the way people are when they see someone disabled, and sometimes it’d be hard, but... I just want him to live as normal a life as possible. He still lives with my mom, now. I just think the assault made him so much worse. I mean, I don’t know if he’ll ever get a job, now, or... it’s just hard to think about sometimes.”

“I can only imagine,” he says softly, because he really has no idea.

“Well, I’m just gonna...I’m just gonna go home,” you say. “Thank you for listening. I needed someone to. I know it’s a lot. But I don’t want to take you away from this case either. We’re already one person down since Liv kicked me out, and if I needed you to win the last case... I absolutely need you to win this one, Rafael. I didn’t get to question that man but I was on this case before and I know he raped them, that fucking bastard—“

“Hey, hey, calm down,” he says gently. “Okay. I know. I watched Liv interrogate him earlier. I believe you, and you know I’m going to do everything I can. I'm going to charge him, and we're going to get him.” Jesus, he needs to stop promising you guilty verdicts. But how the hell could he say no when this clearly meant the world to you? This was all too much. What the hell did you need?

“Okay. I know I’m asking for a lot but I need... I need this. And I can help you however you need. Liv can’t stop me from helping you prep witnesses or—“

“Slow down, (y/n). You still need the time off. You know that, right? You’re going to keep getting kicked off cases if you keep trying to push it. I know how Olivia is when it comes to this.”

“But, Rafael—“

“No. We’re done talking about the case, now, okay? You need to think about something else and get your mind off it for a while. Did you want to go get coffee?”

Fucking coffee. Why did Rafael think that equaled comfort? Maybe because the harsh acidity of stale coffee was his only friend some days, and he’d learned that a good cup could be a great mood improvement. Fuck, that was sad, wasn’t it?

“No, it’s fine,” you say, your face falling. “You need to work. I’m just going to go back home, then.”

You turn to leave, grabbing your purse with shaky hands, but he stops you.

“Are you sure you should be alone right now?”

“You’re working, Rafael—“

“Yes, I know, but you’re welcome to stay here.”

You force a smile, shaking your head. “No. It’s okay. I appreciate it. Are you free later though? I know we haven’t gone out in a while, and I could use the company.”

So you didn’t want to end things. Rafael is simultaneously relieved that you wanted to stick around and terrified for the very same reason.

“You know what?” he says, feeling a brazenness he’s unsure of the origin of. “Do you want just a night in? I can give you my apartment key. If you want to go there now, you can. I’ll meet you there later. I’ll try to get out around 7.”

“You want me to just hang out in your apartment?

“Yes,” he says, kissing the top of your head and giving you the key. “I have good scotch, and I guarantee I have a better shower head installed than your apartment. Just go. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Yeah, just say my apartment's a piece of shit, Rafael," you scoff.

He smirks. "That's not what I said. It's not bad for a single woman on a detective's salary. I can tell you saved for it. But it's nowhere near the lap of luxury."

"Oh, but your place is?" you counter, hands on your hips. You're still stressed, he can tell, but maybe you needed the banter. He hopes he's not pushing it too far.

"No, I wouldn't go that far. But tell me, where would you rather spend the night?"

You roll your eyes at him, and he knows you've conceded.

"Do you have anything in your fridge?" you ask. "I could at least cook."

“Probably not. But don’t worry about it. I can pick something up on my way home.”

“No, you don’t get it, I like to cook. Sonny gave me new recipes. You have a bigger kitchen than I do..."

“Is that what would make you happy?”

“Yeah. I need to put my mind on something else right now; like you said.”

“Then... have at it. Don’t burn my place down, though.”

You roll your eyes, kiss his cheek, and leave.

He’s not used to having to take care of anyone. It's been so long since he let anyone get this close, that they felt he would take care of them. Maybe that wasn’t what you were looking for. He wasn’t your father; maybe you just wanted support from an equal. Maybe he wanted to give it. It’s foreign, the feeling of walls he’d spent so long trying to build cracking at the foundations. But hell, if anyone could... couldn’t it be you?

It’s not like Rafael was opposed to long-term, except, well, he was. He’d say there was never an opportunity, he’d tell his mother there was just no one out there. But it’s not like he tried, either.

With you, it’s not much like trying. It all just happened effortlessly, on his part, at least. You made the first move, and most of the successive ones after that. And you’d said you didn’t know what you wanted - yet it’s becoming clearer to Rafael that what you were the kind of person who needed a partner, a lover, possibly a husband. That makes him beyond uneasy. He’d grown to care about you more than he would have liked these past couple of months, but that didn’t mean he was ready for that kind of commitment, if he ever would be.

And this, now, this requires more effort on his part; it requires more of himself to be used to try and help you feel better.

When he comes home that night, the kitchen is a complete mess, with flour in every crevice, dirty pans in the sink, and grocery bags left on the table. It damn near gives him a heart attack, and maybe he would’ve yelled at you, but he swallows his anger down bitterly. You need gentleness, kindness, softness right now, and that’s a tall order for Rafael, especially when you destroy his apartment... but he couldn’t forgive himself if he hurt you when you were already down. Kitchens could be cleaned. Trust couldn’t be repaired.

It might all be worth it, though. And, as it turns out, maybe Carisi was good for something, or you were an amazing chef (perhaps both) because it might have been the best pasta he’d ever had in his life.

“So you made this? These little things?” He stabs into a couple more pillows of pasta, enjoying the fresh, springy taste.

You laugh, clear and bright. You’re a little tipsy; you’d taken full advantage of his scotch collection, but you needed to take the edge off. “They’re called gnocchi, Rafael. And yes. I made them from scratch.”

“I just might have to keep you around,” he says, smiling at you, and you giggle, kissing his open mouth.

“You better,” you say, moving to sit on his lap. He wraps his arms around your waist. “Anyone else I’ve tried to get close to... it scares them. Or they don’t comprehend how big of a deal it was. It broke me, Rafael. It broke my whole family. You might be the only man I’ve been with who’s understood the consequences that has on a person and still not look at me like it’s all that I am.”

“I know. It’s not who you are. It’s something that happened to you,” he murmurs in your ear, kissing your cheek chastely. “I would never change my opinion on you based on that.”

If anything, all your story does is cause him to have greater respect for you, not because you survived, because what other option did you have? No, it’s how selfless you are, putting your brother before yourself, choosing this career path over a million others that would have been much easier on you. Judging people based on what they had gone through is ridiculous. That tells you nothing about a person. It’s what they do in the aftermath of the things that happen to them that shows you who they are.

What was Rafael then, in the aftermath of the pain he had been caused?

He doesn’t want to think about that. Ugly things like that were better left unsaid. But eventually, he knows, you’d go there. You’d unravel the real reason why he was single, why he never asked anyone to marry him, why he was so scared to get close... but not yet. Tonight was about you.

“I need to get back out there, Rafael. I need to help those kids,” you say, your voice shaking.

“You will. You’re going to. But you need to know when to step back, (y/n). You’re going to burn out if you don’t,” he says softly.

Rafael still doesn’t feel like he’s doing enough; he feels like you need more than he’ll ever be able to give. And you’ve had to have been hurt in relationships in the past, Rafael knows how teenage boys are having been one himself. God, if he could smack his younger self in the face, he would, one thousand times over.

“I...I do agree that it wouldn’t be good for me to talk with the suspect. I’ll gladly leave that to the rest of the squad. But those kids? The parents? You know that no one is better suited for prepping them for court than me. Let me help you, then.”

“Okay,” he concedes. “But... I have conditions.”

“Naturally.”

He smirks a little, pecking your lips softly. “You’re right. No contact with the defendant. And you need to talk to Olivia first.”

“Rafael—“

“Don’t you want to get paid for this?” he says, smiling wryly. “It is work, you know.”

“You just want to make sure I’m cleared so it doesn’t come to bite you in the ass somehow.”

“Well, yes, of course. Olivia would find out that you helped. Also... you need to back away if it gets too much. I’ll send you home, too, if necessary.”

You sigh, nodding. “Fine. Agreed.”

“Okay. Now we’re done talking about it for the rest of the night.”

“Thank you, Rafael,” you say, looping your arms around his neck. “You’re a hard ass most of the time, but you really helped me today. You just see things so clearly.”

He helped you? He hoped so, that something he did got through, but he didn’t really believe anything could. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t emotionally drained, though, as he definitely wasn’t used his emotional support being needed this much.

“Listen...I’m not trying to rush anything either, but I just want you to know I’m glad I have you around,” you say softly.

“Me too,” he says, honestly, and it all feels so strange, letting someone use him to feel better. It felt good, though, to see you in a better mood, even though he doesn’t feel like he’s entirely the cause of that. Scotch certainly helps. Good food does, too. Solitary comforts, which Rafael knows too well. “Thank you for cooking.”

“You’re welcome. I should cook more often, really. Your blood pressure must be through the roof with all the takeout you eat.”

He squeezes your waist tighter, ignoring your comment, ignoring the fact that he might possibly need you too. You run your fingers through his hair, your nails scratching his scalp lightly, and you kiss him gently.

“Well, I got to clean the kitchen I destroyed,” you say.

“I’ll help,” he says, and you kiss him again. It’s gentle, too soft yet too much, and there’s something in your eyes when you pull away, something real, there, something he doesn’t quite recognize or understand at first. It aches, it pulls at heartstrings that maybe have never been touched before. It scares him, a little. What happened to you saying you didn't want to rush things?

For once, words fail him. All he can do is lean up, place his hand on the back of your neck, and kiss you again. He’s careful not to push too far, not to scare you off. You need someone willing to take his time; someone willing to give you his all. Was Rafael really that man? Was he really up for the job?

Maybe, he concedes, that was for you to decide, not himself.

You get off his lap and smile at him before starting to work on the floury mess caking his counter island.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad being needed, even if he hated the aching feeling in his chest he got when he saw you cry, hated how you still seemed like you were too much, too good for him. Part of him still hates you, what with your constantly flickering emotions and your snippy remarks that remind all too much of...himself.

But you needed him there. Who was he to refuse to oblige, even if it scared the shit out of him?

———

Rafael wins the case again. Maybe he should keep promising you guilty verdicts if every time he does it turns out that way. Or, more likely, promising you causes him to work ten times harder just so he doesn’t disappoint you. You did help him a lot this time, per Olivia’s gracious acceptance of your proposal to work more closely with Rafael on this case. She’d said it would be good for you, and it was. You’re not as elated as he hoped you’d be, but you’re probably sick to your stomach thinking about how those kids were going to live their lives now or if they’d get the support your own brother got. But it's certainly better than the alternative. At least that man won't see the light of day for a long while, if ever.

It’s just all very bittersweet.

The squad goes out for drinks, but they’re not rowdy like they can be. Instead, the atmosphere is sullen. This case hurt everyone differently, and everyone is wearing their pain to the bar in an attempt to drink it away. Everyone is especially generous to you - Nick and Sonny fight over covering your drinks and Olivia buys you dinner. Normally, he thinks, you would protest, but you need this right now, and you don't argue with them.

Eventually, though, being around them seems too much, and you head to sit at the bar by yourself. Amanda looks at Rafael pointedly after fifteen minutes of your absence passes. "Are you going to check on her, Barba? "

"What?"

"You heard me. Can you, please?"

The atmosphere is too tense to banter, so he just nods and makes his way over to you. "How are you doing?"

"Amanda's still trying to play matchmaker?" you say, smiling, but it doesn't quite meet your eyes.

"Evidently. But, I really do want to know how you're feeling."

You shrug your shoulders, turning to face him better. "I've been better. I'm just glad it's over. I’m actually going home for a bit,” you tell him. “I have a couple of vacation days to use, so I won’t be around.”

“Okay,” he says. “I hope your brother is doing well.”

“Yeah. Me too. And you know... I’ll make it up to you. I’m sorry for the distance I put between us, you know, earlier this week? I didn’t mean to, but this case—“

“You don’t need to apologize, (y/n),” he says, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh. I mean, I did feel bad, leaving you hanging like that. I just know when I get stressed like that I’m not good company.”

“You’re always good company, cariño,” he says quietly, and you reach under the table to squeeze his hand. Rafael doesn’t quite know what you need, and this may be too much, it may draw the attention of the squad - but they aren’t paying attention. Or, fuck it, if they were. He intertwines his fingers wtih yours, squeezing back gingerly.

“Charmer,” you tease, smiling sweetly, sneaking a glance at your hands. “But... Rafi, we are dating, right?”

“Is that what you need from me?”

“I mean, I’d like that. It’s been a couple of months, and we don’t hate each other... why not? We don’t have to tell the squad yet, but I think I might mention to my parents I’m seeing someone when I go up there. Is that okay?”

“That’s...fine, (y/n),” he says cautiously, feeling slightly guilty he never broached the subject with his mother. And god, he wasn’t ready to. Wasn’t this all too much too soon? What was he going to tell you, though? No?

“You might not think so, and I know you try to hide it by being an asshole sometimes, but you are a good man, Rafael.”

“I’m just doing my job.”

“Yeah, you say that, but I saw you up there, saw you fight for these kids... there’s a way to be a lawyer and not care about the people you represent. But you do care. And it's admirable."

"I wouldn't be able to do my job as well if I didn't care, (y/n). I'm not a saint. Don't make me out that way. This is how I make a living. I want to succeed at it."

"Oh, honey, won't you let me just give you a compliment?" you say, and you loosen your grip on his hand to rub his shoulder gently. "Nothing good ever comes from trying to deny your humanity. And there are far easier career paths you could've chosen if that's what you wanted to do. But you're not like that."

"How would you know?" Rafael says, harsher than he meant to.

"Okay," you murmur, wincing a little. "Why are you so intent on proving me wrong? You know what? Either...stop talking or leave."

"I'm sorry," he says, and he genuinely is. The last thing he wanted to do this week was kick you when you were already down - and here he is, doing exactly that. You deserve so much better.

You smile humorlessly, shaking your head. "I thought I made myself clear. Be quiet, Rafael."

Rafael nods awkwardly and takes a long sip from his scotch. And you surprise him after a few moments, by leaning against his shoulder. "I thought you were mad--"

"Shh, Rafi. Can you please just hold me?"

"Okay," he murmurs, and he presses a chaste kiss to your temple before putting his arm around your shoulders. Under normal circumstances, he never would have agreed, but he did just snap at you and the rest of the squad was stewing in their own feelings, hopefully too busy to notice what was happening between the two of you. And even if it did draw attention - it was easily explained away as nothing more than a friend leaning on a friend. He knows eventually you'll need to tell the squad, but for now, this was already too much.

But it was what you needed. So even though Rafael is beyond unsure - he's willing to oblige for now and see where this leads.

NEXT CHAPTER

Want to be tagged in future chapters? Let me know!

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dcforts · 4 years ago

Text

[foosball]

They’ve got a foosball table now.

Dean spots it by the side of the road, one leg bent, a little rusty, the glass smashed in and a couple of men’s heads cut off. He goes back to load it on a truck and bring it home and Sam’s bewildered face when he unloads is enough to pay off for the extra journey, even if his “Ta-da” has no effect whatsoever not on him, nor on Jack who clearly has no idea what that thing is.

Dean doesn’t care, he’s too excited.

It’s not like he’s ever been a champion at it, but if someone asks him that’s Sam’s fault: he’s always been too young and not enough competitive and Dean just didn’t have anyone else to play with and never enough time at the arcade to practice.

But now, he’s got one all for himself. He cleans it up and fixes it up the best he can and his excitement grows and grows.

And then it plummets like a sinking ship when he finally gets his chance to play and Jack kicks his ass ten times in a row.

Sam is no help: one, the more Dean gets frustrated the more he laughs at him, and two, he’s now too big to fit on the same side as Dean so he can’t even team up with him. And no, winning with Jack against Sam doesn’t count.

“He’s just a kid,” Sam laughs when Dean voices his suspicious on Jack using his powers to beat him.

“That’s not the point!” he retorts and then retires to his room to grumpily listen to music for the rest of the night.

Hope comes back full force the next afternoon in the shape of two familiar shoulders covered by a trenchcoat. He finds them in the library, sitting at one of the tables. Cas has a laptop open in front of him and he is intent on consulting a news website, one index finger moving slowly on the touch pad.

Dean circles the table to stand in his field of vision and points one finger at him. “Foosball,” he says, serious.

Cas looks up at him and his expression stays neutral. “It’s a table top game.”

“I kn- ,” Dean rolls his eyes. “What do you know about it? How good are you at it?”

“I never played.”

A wicked grin stretches on Dean’s face. He puts both palms on the surface of the table and leans in.

“I propose an alliance. You, me, against the giant and the kid. What you say?”

Now Castiel seems confused and slightly alarmed, not exactly enthusiastic at the idea of being dragged in a situation that would likely make him uncomfortable. He gapes at him like a fish.

Dean keeps going. “I secretly train you to be the best foosball player on Earth and then we crush them”, he says it closing a fist in mid-air.

“I don’t know -”

“Hell, maybe you’re a natural, just like Jack. And I’m not above using a little bit of angelic powers to cheat. I’m pretty sure he’s not playing clean either.”

“Dean -,” he starts, but Dean takes hold of his trechcoat sleeve and tugs at it. “Come on, before they see us.”

Cas is definitely not a natural. Which doesn’t turn out to be such a bad thing after all because that means that Dean gets to win a match for the first time since he got the table.

And it’s a good thing also because, unlike Sam, Cas is competitive, and the fact that he seems unable to properly coordinate to move a few rods and excel at a stupid human game bothers him greatly, so he focuses like his life depends on it until he finally wins a match. After the shot that seals the match, he looks up at Dean, genuinely pleased, “I won,” he states, almost incredulous.

Dean feels giddy. He smiles back at him.

So now with a fourth guy, Dean can finally have his long sought balanced match.

Sam and Jack make fun of him for how badly he wants a rematch, but after they lose two matches in a row against Dean and Cas, a thick silence falls into the room, broken only by rare grunts and the sound of the ball rolling around on the table.

In only a day, Cas’s got incredibly good. He has the great ability to always anticipate Dean’s intentions, and moves his bars to accommodate his strategy. It’s like, in addition to learning the rules of the game, he learned how Dean plays and that makes him the best teammate Dean could ask for.

They only share a satisfied smile the first times they close a match. Dean is too busy shoving it in Sam and Jack’s face, really. But on the third match, they’re head to head and the adrenaline’s pumping and on the last ball, Cas’ goalie blocks Sam’s shot with a swift and clean movement and sends the ball flying back quick like a rocket on the other side of the field and into their goal with a clunk, and Dean is so surprised and amazed that he lets out a shout and raises his fists in the air.

Jack and Sam are groaning and calling for a time out and Cas is smiling at him, his hands still on the rods, content to just stand there and watch him bouncing on his feet like a child. Dean is so euphoric that he shouts, “That was awesome,” and cups Cas’ face in his hands and leans in to smack a loud kiss on his cheek, only Cas startles at the unexpected contact and Dean’s lips end up pressing dangerously close to his mouth.

So if they lose the next two matches it’s entirely his fault.

As soon as he realizes what’s happened, he drops Cas’ face like it’s a hot potato and they look at each other alarmed. That kind of unbalances the whole thing; Dean’s ears keep ringing and Cas keeps messing up too, unable to focus.

They lose the third match in a row and Dean doesn’t even make fun of Sam and Jack when high-five three times with both hands as if they’re five years olds because he’s busy being too aware of the tension on his side of their table.

With three matches each, they decide, whoever wins the next one, is gonna win it all. Dean calls a time out and pushes Cas to the side.

“We need to get it together.”

“Dean -”

“Cas, let’s just focus on the match. No distractions, okay?”

Cas nods reluctantly. “No distractions.”

And so they play, slightly better, but still struggling.

And then there’s one ball left.

Jack and Dean do a little bit of a silly ritual, taking turns blowing on it and then Jack presses it against his chest, closes his eyes and says, “If you make me win, this will be one of the best days of my life.”

“Yeah, alright, just play,” Dean mocks him, but when he looks towards Cas and Sam they both look like they fell for his little act.

So Dean is not exactly surprised when Jack gets a chance for a clear shot and Cas just – doesn’t catch it.

Dean sees clearly the way he pulls his rod ever so slightly to allow the ball to go in. He sees the way he looks immediately up to Jack not to miss his face light up. The way he smiles fully, with crinkles on the corner of his eyes and all, as Jack laughs and cheers with Sam, and then Jack is pointing at him and Dean has to take his eyes off of Cas and deal with the obnoxious truth that they lost. He lost. Again.

But Cas is pleased, and Jack has stars in his eyes and Sam is having fun - although at his expenses - so Dean doesn’t even think about complaining, or calling bullshit, or asking for a rematch.

After dinner he says he’s going to bed but quietly sneaks into Dean Cave once again to watch tv. Cas finds him anyway, even if the lights are off and the volume is set very low.

He comes in like he knew exactly that he was going to be in there. “You alright?” he asks.

Dean says, “Yeah.”

Cas doesn’t occupy the other empty chair, but comes to hover next to Dean’s until he moves his left arm and he can perch on the armrest. It’s an usual position but not an unusual closeness and Dean feels warmed by the familiarity of it.

“Sorry about earlier. I know you wanted to win.”

Dean shrugs. “It’s okay. It was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Under the light coming from the tv screen, Cas presses his lips together, looking troubled. Dean knows he’s about to confess, so with a small smile he anticipates him: “I know what you did. There was no way you couldn’t have caught that shot.”

Cas lowers his head, showing guilt.

“It’s fine.” he reassures him before he can say anything. “It was nice seeing him happy.”

Cas nods and his leg bumps against Dean’s knee and that prompts a quirk of lips. Dean feels the need add something about earlier.

“And – I guess I-, sometimes I get a little too excited over stupid stuff. Sorry for throwing off your game. T’was an accident.”

Cas is silent for a long moment and Dean can’t guess what he’s thinking from his expression cause he’s very intent on looking at a randomly selected spot on Cas’ dress pants.

Then Cas says, “No need to apologize,” and there is a warm hand on his shoulder and Dean finally looks up. Cas has a smile stretching his lips and Dean can’t believe that just hours before his mouth was so close to them it almost touched them. “Do you want to play now? I can let you win,” he teases.

“Hey!” he protests, but with no real heat in it, “I don’t need you to let me win.”

Cas raises his eyebrows and tilts his head as if he’s sorry for him, “You sure?”

“Oh, that’s how you wanna – okay, smartass, you’re on. But -” Cas is about to stand up and Dean stops him with a hand on his tight. Cas stares at the hand and then up at Dean. “- not now? Let’s play another day.”

“Okay,” says Cas and sounds a little breathless. Dean smiles bravely, hoping he doesn’t look too scared. He doesn’t remove his hand.

“Wanna stay here? Catch a movie?”

Cas nods and as Dean presses play on the remote he shifts on the armrest to get comfortable and moves his hand to entwine his fingers with Dean’s.

A long time passes before either of them says anything. They stay absolutely still, watching straight ahead the one minute fifty-six seconds of opening credits as if it’s the most interesting thing they’ve ever seen.

And only when Dean is sure he’ll be able to hear his voice above his own heartbeat again, and the world didn’t end and nothing terrible happened and Cas didn’t just suddenly change just because their hands touched, he casually calls: “Hey Cas?”

Cas seems to relax as well when he hears his voice. He looks back at him, “Yeah?”

“Jack cheats, right?”

Cas huffs a laugh, “No.”

Dean slides down in his chair and pouts, “Damn it.”

#deancas #deancas ficlet #destiel fanfiction #deancas fanfiction #1.8k #i hope the terminology is right #a bit crack-y?#it's soft and domestic and there's hand holding and sitting on armrests #i really like that image #but i know its not comfortable sorry cas #if we imagine a different armchair then it's a bit better #i guess set somewhere during s13 #even if it can't be #deancas ficlets #my writing

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nsheetee · 5 years ago

Text

Wifi

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: Roommate AU || Fluff, slightly crack-ish Length: 2k Warning: one mention of an adult theme, implied female reader Summary: You and Renjun have been rooming together for a while, not knowing of your hidden feelings for each other. Surprisingly, it’s the bad wifi connection in your room that brings you together.

〈〈〈━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━〉〉〉

You sigh for what seems like the umpteenth time that evening, your fingers angrily keyboard smashing on your laptop when the wifi bars at the top of the screen show only one small, weak bar barely hanging on.

Ever since you moved in with your new roommate Renjun, you’ve noticed how every once in a while around 11pm, the wifi in your room goes weak. Being a creature of the night that always gets their homework done during this time, it frustrates you that you have to take small breaks every few minutes for your computer to catch up with the internet connection.

Finally fed up with waiting for your computer to load, you pick up your supplies and march over to Renjun’s room, which is the closest room to the apartment’s wifi router. You knock on the door and after hearing an affirmative, you walk into the room. Renjun is buried under a pile of blankets on his bed with his hoodie pulled up to his lips and the hood over his forehead. The only light in the room is coming from his laptop and he hisses when you turn on the room light.

“Good God, turn that off before you blind me. What do you need?” You turn the light back off and instead turn on Renjun’s desk light, setting your stuff down on top of his abandoned homework.

“Can I finish my homework in here?”

“What’s wrong with your room?”

“The internet’s being dodgy again.” You explain and Renjun silently nods, shutting his laptop and putting his airpods into his ears as he looks through his phone. You sit at his “organized mess” of a desk, open your computer, and sigh contently when the wifi works smoothly.

Renjun peers over his phone to look at you. You’re concentrating hard on whatever paper you’re writing; your pajama shirt is so big that it covers your shorts and your hair is only held in it’s messy bun by a couple of pencils. He can’t see your face, but admiration pools in his chest.

He’s been lovesick for you ever since you interviewed to be his roommate. When you introduced yourself and answered all of his questions in your own quirky way, Renjun just about handed over the lease for you to sign then and there and called off all the other interviews he had that day. Since then, his small crush has grown bigger, but seems to be unnoticed by you. Renjun, instead of doing the obvious thing and confessing, decided to help you find out about his feelings “by yourself.”

Renjun found out that he can manually decrease the bandwidth of the apartment’s wifi just by logging into his internet service provider account online. So, he began to weaken the wifi every few nights around 11pm, when he knew you were doing your homework. Like clockwork, he’d hear your groans of frustration for a few moments before your feet pad over to his room and knock on the door, asking to do your homework in his room.

Was Renjun being ridiculous? Maybe… Was he going to stop this game he has you unknowingly playing? Not until you realize he has feelings for you or he gets enough guts to confess. Renjun sighs dejectedly when he thinks about the likeness of either of those events happening anytime soon. He sinks down further into his nest of blankets in an attempt to stop the feelings from taking over his chest, but to no avail.

Renjun has a total, major, embarrassing crush on his roommate.

〈〈〈〉〉〉

You knock on Renjun’s door once again, sighing when he tells you to enter from inside. You walk in with your books and pens in your hands, your computer haphazardly balanced on top of it all.

“What’s wrong?” Renjun asks from his spot on the floor. His project for his biology class is spread out on the floor; some sort of visual presentation that involves a lot of paper cut outs and glue.

“Internet’s bad.” You look over his work, “Are you actually doing your homework? I didn’t know that was possible.” Renjun glaces up from gluing paper to his presentation, a blank stare on his face. He didn’t manually decrease the bandwidth of the wifi tonight. Are the internet gods smiling down on him and bringing you to him through their own will? He hopes so.

“Those are bold words for someone who needs internet and the only place to get it is in my room.” It’s your turn to give Renjun a blank stare as you drop off your supplies on his desk. “Come here.” He commands. You sit down criss-cross applesauce across from him and he hands you a thick permanent marker.

“Write this here.” He points to a small passage in his notebook and a blank space on the presentation board before moving to glue a different piece of paper.

“Why? I’m not going to do your homework for you in return for wifi. I live here, I pay with this wifi.” You point the marker tip at him but he ignores you, too focused on gluing a piece of paper to the cardboard.

“Once again, this is my room.” You sigh at his stubbornness, deciding to help him just this once. You take time to look around; although you’ve been rooming together for a few weeks now, this is the first time you’ve casually been in his room. The wall above his bed particularly catches your eye; his drawings, the quick doodles that he seems to be proud of, are hanging over his bed. Some are of people he’s seen at the coffee shop he usually hangs out in, some are of your house plants that you bought for the window sill in the kitchen.

Your heart softens when you look back at Renjun; he seems to be hyperfixed on gluing a particular piece of paper to the cardboard, his lips open in concentration and his eyebrows slightly furrowed. You feel courage build up in your chest and your gut fill with fearlessness. This is it. You’re going to confess your feelings for your roommate right here and right now.

“Nice drawings.” You mumble out instead, cursing to yourself in your head when the courage fades.

“Really?” Renjun asks, looking over his shoulder to the drawings. “They’re just doodles…” He tries to sound humble, but you can see the tilt of one side of his lips as he tries to hide his smile.

“Yeah, golden hands, they’re good.” You roll your eyes, deciding to feed his ego. It distracts him long enough to allow you to stand up and escape to Renjun’s desk chair. You start your own homework, a yawn leaving your lips. Maybe tonight isn’t the time to confess your crush on your roommate, but you hope he’ll be able to see the little hints you give of your feelings.

Renjun once again can’t help but stare at your back as you work, not minding that you’re not helping him anymore. He hates that your small, seemingly insignificant comment about his artwork makes his heart pound. He wishes the wifi could stop working by itself more often so he could see you naturally, like he did tonight.

〈〈〈〉〉〉

You don’t knock this time as you enter Renjun’s room, throwing up a peace sign as you close the door behind you and walk to his desk.

“Hey,” He raises his voice. “I get you have homework to do and the internet is weird, but at least knock. What if I was… masterbating in here or something.” He mumbles the last part and you snort.

“I still need to use the internet. So if you’re gonna masterbate anytime soon, please go do it somewhere else.”

“This is my room.” Renjun whines, throwing the drawing pad he was using before you barged in next to him and flopping onto his bed.

“Or so you keep saying.” You tease some more, setting down your supplies on his desk.

Renjun hasn’t touched the wifi bandwidth in weeks for fear that his meddling has caused the wifi to actually turn bad in your apartment. His wish came true: the wifi kept breaking and messing up in your room, all by itself. Now, you were constantly in Renjun’s room doing your homework and although Renjun likes you (literally), he doesn’t like how you welcome yourself in.

You surprise him by laying down next to him; you’re both facing the ceiling, hands on your stomachs and sighs escaping your lips every few seconds. Renjun can’t tell what you’re thinking, he’s too afraid to look at your face for the fear of not being able to quit looking. He doesn’t know if you’re as affected as him by your arm meeting his every time you breath, or if you can sense his thoughts racing at 1,000 miles an hour in his head. He tries to breathe evenly when he catches a whiff of your moisturizer, the one he said he liked a few weeks ago and that you’ve been using everyday since.

“Aren’t you here to do your homework? Why are you laying down?”

“No.” You gulp at the words that are about to leave your lips. “I’m here… for you.” You hold your breath after you finish talking.

“What.”

“The wifi has been working fine for weeks. I’ve been coming here to spend time… with you.” You can’t imagine how Renjun was dense enough to believe that the wifi has been poor almost every night for the past 2 months, but you hope it has something to do with him liking spending time with you. You got tired of waiting for Renjun to pick up your hints and stopped waiting for the wifi to cut out in your room to join him in his-- it’s not like he would ever know if the wifi is actually being dodgy on your side of the apartment.

You’re still nervously waiting for Renjun to say something or to tease you and kick you out of his room and tell you to find a different place to stay and then you’re going to be homeless and then you’ll definitely never have good wifi and then…

Renjun sits up and you don’t let your eyes meet, instead pulling your hood over your head and tightening the strings to hide away from your indirect confession. Renjun untightens the strings and pulls the hood off of you; he looks like he’s about to laugh at you and it makes you nervous.

“You’re a fool. I was the one that was cutting out your wifi.” His words make you sit up straight. Your jaw unhinges as embarrassment floods you. You thought you were only going to confess your feelings tonight, not the fact that you’ve been sneakingly lying to Renjun to hang out with him every night.

Renjun starts laughing and in your flustered state, you pick up his forgotten drawing pad and hit him with it. Renjun only laughs harder at your reaction, clutching his shoulder. He’s partially laughing because of the dumb situation you got yourselves in, but also out of joy because you just confessed your feelings to him.

“You! Do you know how angry you made me? I couldn’t get any of my work done for weeks.” You yell. You’re sure the neighbors could probably hear your mixed voices, but you don’t care. “Why did you purposefully cut out the wifi?” You groan.

“Because I knew you would come to my room if I did.” Renjun confesses, leaning back on his bed with his hands. Your heart soars at his words; it’s what you’ve wanted him to say to you for so long. You raise the drawing pad to hit him again but he catches it, fingers covering yours as he stops your second attack. You let him pry the pad out of your hands and he drops it to a different corner of the bed.

“C’mere, dummy.”

“Who are you calling a dummy?”

“You. Now get over here so I can finally kiss you senseless.”

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got-to-love-a-badboy · 4 years ago

Text

DADDYS GIRL

pairing - Dacre Montgomery x Reader

————-

You woke up to your father calling you, "Y/N!! Get your butt up, I need to leave in 15 minutes!", groaning you rolled yourself out of the bed and stumbled over to the suitcase that held your things in, as you hadn't got around to hanging them up when you arrived lastnight.

You worked in LA at an interior design firm, life in LA was everything you dreamed it would be, but you did miss your father, it was always just you and him since your mom passed away when you was 11, 14 years later you still needed your father more than you would ever let him know.

He didn't like the idea of you moving from New York to LA on your own, but two years after you moved away, your father got a job in Atlanta, he had been cast as chief Jim Hopper on the tv show Stranger Things.

You couldn't be any more proud of your father, he hadn't done much acting since you left and you felt kind of guilty, but when he told you the news of the role you couldn't believe it, This is what he needed. The two of you FaceTimed everyday and he always told you the gossip on set, but FaceTime wasn't enough, so this week you took the week off of work and spent the week at your fathers apartment with him.

Today he was taking you on set with him, you was excited to see what the new set would be like and to see the cast from last season, especially Nat and Joe, the three of you became really close friends during season 1.

You had persuaded your father to let you bring your designs to set with you so you could carry on working on them while he was busy.

You eventually came downstairs wearing a little pleated skirt, knee boots and a jumper. "Finally! What have you been... oh I see what's taken you so long, you look beautiful honey, but we need to leave, it's set not the met gala", you laughed at your father trying to be funny. Your father was on a call most of the car ride so you took the opportunity to text Nat.

Hey! Guess who's on her way to set.... meeee!

No way! Today has totally moved up to being the best day ever! I can not wait for you to arrive! Iv just told Everyone and they are super excited! Gosh I missed you Y/N!

You laughed at her acting like it was you who was the celebrity and not her!. The car ride wasn't long at all, when you arrived on set the first thing you saw was Nat stood in the parking lot, with her full Nancy Wheeler costume going on!,

"Y/N!", she shouted as she ran towards the car, "Nat!", the two of you hugged for what felt like forever, "god I missed you girl! ...David she needs to move back here permanent!", she said to your father as she held onto your face, you laughed before looking at your father, who put his hand on Nat's shoulder before winking at you, "working on it kiddo".

You loved your father so much, but he never understood why you had to go and pursue your own career so far away from him, you loved your job, design and architecture had always been fascinating to you.

You, Nat and your father made your way through the set, everyone was greeting you and telling you they were glad to see you etc, as you made your way closer to the live set you had to keep quiet as they were shooting a scene. You could see from the distance that it was Joe who was filming, quietly you stood and watched the scene, his character was playing basket ball with a group of guys, but one in particular was all up in Joes face, 'he must be Steve's enemy" you thought.

As you kept watching the guy turned around and when you saw his face, his bright blue eyes and his insanely toned chest you could feel the butterflies in your stomach come alive, "that's Dacre, he's new, I can introduce you?" Nat said nudging you're side, you just covered your face and shook your head, she was always trying to hook you up with someone new, you were, as Nat put it, "too pretty to be alone".

After a few moments your father took you over near the cast trailers and food trailer, "I need to go see Matt, il be back soon grab a coffee and do your designs or what ever, I won't be long sweetie", with that he walked off.

You didn't need telling twice, so you sat down at the table and pulled out your laptop and design pad, put your earphones in and began touching up some of your designs, you must have been at it for at least 30 minutes when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You take your earphones out and turn around to see Dacre, the guy who was shooting with Joe, you jumped a little in shock, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" He said politely, causing you to let out a nervous laugh, "oh no it's ok, I was totally in my own world", you pointed to the work you had been doing.

Looking at him you could feel the butterflies were back, you noticed he was looking behind you, you turned to see it was your laptop he was looking at, you turned back to him, he saw you looking and instantly stopped, "oh I'm so sorry I didn't mean to be nosey, it's just .... that is amazing .... I'm a real design freak", he began laughing, feeling embarrassed.

You couldn't believe it, you didn't often meet people your age that obsessed over design like you did, "what really! Finally someone to talk to!... come here let me show you something, tell me what you think", Dacre instantly sat next to you looking at the laptop.

Natalia and Joe walked into the food trailer talking to each-other, but when they saw the two of you talking they backed out.

As they were walking back to set they saw your father, "hey guys you seen Y/N around?", Nat looked at Joe, yet they both remained silent, "what?! Just tell me what's she doing?", he asked, Nat spoke up realising Joe wasn't going to!, "ok David don't freak ok, she's hanging out with Dacre in the food trailer, they are just looking at Y/N's work", he pinched the bridge of his nose with his finger tips, "it's a good job I like Dacre, this girl is going to kill me". The three of them laughed as your father walked off towards the trailer.

"This is amazing Y/N!, how you use the textures to make the colours pop is just mind blowing, it's so strange, this is the first time iv spoken to you but I feel like iv known you for years", Dacre said, still looking at the designs as he spoke, but turned to face you when he finished, "god your eyes are beautiful", you told him making him laugh, his hand finding yours on the table, his fingers began softly tracing over yours, "well if were doing complements where do I even begin with you, you're prefect", you smiled at him and began to blush, the two of you were interrupted by a voice in the background, "she gets it from her old man!", Dacres eyes shot behind him as he removed his hand from yours, you just shook your head at your father taking on the big bad dad role, "relax Dacre, I like you, plus it wouldn't stop Y/N even if I didn't, she never listens, hence why she's living in LA, right honey?".

You rolled your eyes at your father, "yeah, independent woman and all that dad", you looked back at Dacre smiling, "he forgets I'm 25 now, ...so, how about you take me out tonight Dacre? Who knows there may be more than one reason for me to stay in Atlanta a little while longer", Dacre flashed you his signature smile, "you took the words out of my mouth beautiful", the pair of you were staring at each other, eyes full of lust and attraction, "3 years, I tried to convince her to stay! 3 years!, I give in, enjoy your night guys!".

The pair of you laughed as your father walked out, Dacres hand instantly finding yours again.

———————————-

I hope you enjoy it guys I had the idea about Y/N being David's daughter but then I got so stuck on the meeting and chatting with Dacre part!

Please vote and comment!

Love my readers 🥰

#dacre montgomery #dacrekaydmontgomery #dacre #stranger things #dacre montgomery x reader #stranger fanfic #dacre x y/n #y/n

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kimnjss · 5 years ago

Text

[ saying i love you ] requested.

@obscenitae: established relationship bts react to the first time you say ‘i love you’

warnings: penetrative sex, slight nipple play, riding.

A/N: requests for reactions are now open and without commissions. if you want to send a reaction request in, simply send me an ask!

NAMJOON

Over the months, your boyfriend has become quite en-tune with you, your moods and body. He knew you like the back of his hand so it didn't take him much figuring to realize when you were stressed. Especially since that seemed to be your default setting these past few weeks.

One of the things that he admired most about you was the fact that always tried your hardest. Even a task as minimal as setting the dinner table, you never dreamed of giving less than one hundred percent and took pride in your little accomplishments. Because of this, though, you seemed to forget to take care of yourself in the process.

Which was exactly why Joon had spent the past hours on his YouTube, trying to quick learn how to whip up your favorite meal. Originally, he had planned to treat you to a fancy dinner in a pretty restaurant that would no doubt get you to relax. When he had asked, though, your tired eyes told him that you weren't in the mood to get all dolled up and go out. Then your lips did the same.

He understood. Work was kicking your ass, he had been there many times before. He knew how important your job was, to you and to him. Should be happy that his accounting manager was taking her job so seriously, but he couldn't find it him to be happy about that when he saw how hard it was on you.

So he decided to surprise you. Allowed you to hole up in your shared bedroom with your laptop and calculator, wearing those cute little glasses as he stood in the kitchen, leaned against the counter while he fast forwarded through the last YouTube video on his last to watch.

“Okay!” With a clap of his hands, he's setting his phone down on the counter, moving to collect all the pots and pans out of the cabinets, before pulling the fridge door opening, leaning forward to peer at the contents.

Upstairs, unbeknownst to the destruction awaiting your meticulously decorated kitchen, you sat hunched at your computer desk. Crunching numbers and trying to figure out the perfect way to make up the funds lost now that the tour had been postponed. Of course, there was still the money on tickets spent, but the cost to keep the venues booked keeps raising and with the boys stagnant, something in house needed to be done.

You just didn't know what.

At this for days, your eyes were starting to shift on their own, numbers tattooed on the inside of your eyelids. A long list of ideas scribbled out after being deemed stupid by your ever so helpful boyfriend. All the times he leaned over your shoulder moments after you think you figured out just to have him shake his head and veto it, instantly.

The loud crash from downstairs interrupts your train of thought. You had planned to ignore the sound and continue working, if it wasn't from the loud curse that flew from Joon's lips in a high pitched wail. Jumping up from your spot, you're rushing down the stairs to check on him.

“What happened? Are you alright?” He's stood by the sink, running his fingers under seemingly steaming water. The mess in the kitchen completely ignored as you rush to his side, hands finding the small of his back as you peak at his fingers. The watered blood flowing from the tips and creating small droplets in the sink. “Oh, my God! Namjoon!”

You're reaching for a dish rag, pulling his hands out of the water and cradling it to your chest. “It's just a small cut, we cant just-” You were cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. “Oh, don't be stupid. Sit there, let me get the first aid kit.”

With a roll of his eyes, he's giving in and plopping down onto the stool facing the island. You find the used first aid kit underneath the bathroom sink, already flipping it open and searching for the disinfectant.

Namjoon is sat at the kitchen table when you return, nursing his irritated hand with a frown on his face. You can't help the smile that breaks onto your lips at how cute he looked in the moment. Surrounded by the mess he had made and frowning, probably annoyed that he had gotten himself in this situation.

You're grasping his hand, warning him about the sting before spraying the disinfectant onto his cut. He winced only slightly, use to the feel by now. Carefully, you wipe at his cut, eyes lifting to take in the messy kitchen. “What were you even trying to do?” You don't miss the way his cheeks darken at your question.

“You've been so stressed lately... I wanted to prepare your favorite meal tonight, give you a chance to relax.” His tone is sheepish and there's a warm in your heart, your eyes lifting to take in the sight of the man in front of you.

The caring, gentle, kind man that always tried his hardest to make you happy. To help you, genuinely loved to see you at ease and was ready to do whatever he could to get you that way. To get rid of the crease between your brows that seemed to arise whenever you were stressed. Of all the time he had brushed it away with the pad of his thumb, placing his gentle lips against your skin moments later.

He cared about you so much and it was all hitting you at once, the words were falling from your lips before you had a chance to second guess. Not like you really needed to anyway. “I love you.”

Joon's eyes go wide at your confession, pink cheeks turning pinker as he sat there staring. Trying to decipher whether or not he had heard you wrong. Unable to believe that those words were actually falling from your lips with such sincerity and admiration.

The thrum in his chest picked up, hands growing sweaty in your hold. A few moments of silence passed between you two, him staring with his eyes wide and you waiting to hear his voice. You're looking down, concentration back on his hand. Maybe you jumped the gun, maybe he wasn't there yet. You weren't going to push him, he'd tell you when he felt it.

Only, you wished you had waited a little bit longer so you weren't the one hanging in the wind. “I love you too,” The words are catching you off guard, forcing a stutter in the movements of your hand as you smooth the bandaid onto his skin.

You're stuck, not sure what to do with the arising feelings in your chest. So you only smile, lifting his hand to place a soft kiss to his bandaged cut. He watches you with loving eyes and you smile as you pull back. “Should we finish cooking together?” He's nodding quickly, jumping up from his seat.

“I'd love to,” He says with a large smile, reaching to pull you up from the table. Pulling your body close to his, Joon wraps his arms around your waist before leaning down to press his lips to the top of your head.

JIN

His hand is heavy in yours, fingers laced together as the two of you walk down the dark winter streets. Bellies full of the delicious meal you had just shared, warmth around the two of you despite the cool air nipping at your cheeks.

You loved nights like this. Where you were able to be with your boyfriend peacefully. Where nothing else mattered but the two of you in that moment. No pestering schedule weighing over the two of you, no time limit on your night. You were free to do whatever, be wherever, act however you wanted it.

Moments like this were extremely rare, so you learned to cherish them as they came. “Those look delicious,” Jin's pointing out a small bakery, advertised freshly baked cupcakes displayed in the window. “You could go for some dessert, right?” Gently, he's tugging you in the direction of the shop.

Uselessly, you nod. Figuring you could make some room for cupcakes. Who didn't love a freshly baked treat? The woman running the shop greets you two instantly, gushing about how cute the two of you looked together.

The smile doesn't leave your face the whole time, never knowing how to handle the compliments that you always managed to get when you were out with your boyfriend. You were convinced it had something to do with the fact that he was considered handsome worldwide... so by association you were too.

“Pick whatever you want, baby. I'll get it for you.” Jin is speaking once the lady has finished going over the different flavors she had ready to dish out to the willing costumers. You're smiling, watching as she swoons at his generosity.

She had been so touched that he was willing to buy you whatever you wanted, which was nothing new when the took you out, that she decided it would only be right to give you your treats for free. You both thanked the woman a thousand times as you left the shop, cupcakes in one hand and fingers intertwined with the other.

The two of you only made it a few steps down the street before he was stopping again, this time in front of a jewelry store. Lights off, due to the early closing hours, but the case of rings were still lit up, instantly catching Jin's attention.

He stood there, admiring the jewelry with a small smile, pad of his thumb running over his ring finger. Another thing you loved about Jin was the fact that he was so straight forward, never tried to make you guess. Told you once he knew that you were the girl he wanted to spend his life with.

The confession had rattled you, it had been so early in the relationship but he explained it away as him just knowing. Made sure to let you know that it was no pressure, just what he was feeling. That was almost a year ago and you were starting to see what he had before.

“I can't wait to get you one of these,” He's speaking, eyes glued to the dazzling jewelry in the window and you smile. Jin's turning to smile at you and you return it, gently pulling him from the storefront. “I don't need anything big and expensive,” You assure him, leaning on your tip toes to press your lips against his.

He smiles through the kiss, mouth moving over yours slowly before he's pulling away with a giddy smile. He's walking again and you're following close behind him, speeding up your steps until you're side by side again.

This past year with him has been amazing... magical. The things you felt for him remained unmatched to your other relationships. Found yourself thinking more of a future when it came to him, rather than the here and now mentality you held for most of your relationships.

It was just the way he was with you. So calming, and considerate. You could tell that he cared for you, enjoyed the time spent with you and would be looking forward to the time he could see you again. Never made you feel like a second choice no matter how busy he was.

All that, plus the little things like the way he kissed you, held you, reminded you that he planned to marry you one day was what fueled the words to leave your lips. A comfortable silence fallen over you two and you're saying it with a dreamy smile. “I love you,”

There's a stutter in his steps, his attention turning to you. “I love you,” He repeats, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice. As if he had just been waiting to hear it from you first. Your smile grows, moving to close the space between the two of you before you're leaning up on your toes to capture his lips with yours.

YOONGI

Jimin is the first to greet you as you enter their studio building. He's sat on the couch in the lobby, Taehyung beside him with earbuds pressed in his ears as mumbles of lyrics leaves his lips. “He hasn't left that room all day,” Jimin speaks as if he's tattling, hopping up from his seated position.

“I figured. I brought some dinner with me,” You're holding up the various takeout bags and as if on cue Jungkook is rounding the corner with Namjoon and Hoseok steps behind him. “Yn's here!” Hoseok exclaims, adding a layer of theme music to the proclamation of your arrival.

You grin, placing the larger bag of food into Jimin's awaiting hands. He doesn't waste a moment before he's setting the bag onto the table, pulling out the meal boxes and scattering them around.

Jungkook greets you before quickly moving to sit beside Jimin, taking his pick from the food options. Hoseok uselessly warns the boys to leave food for Jin who hadn't finished recording yet, and Joon is wrapping his arms around your body to pull you into a quick hug.

It was almost a surprise how well you got along with these boys. You had remembered how nervous you were when Yoongi first announced that he'd be introducing you to his friends. Was so sure that they wouldn't like you or automatically think you'd serve as a distraction to their ever so hard working big bro.

Namjoon was the first to welcome you into the group, encouraging the guys to take the time to get to know you even if he hadn't yet. For whatever reason, the two of you just seemed to click. From the moment you met him, the conversation seemed to flow easily as if you were always on the same wave length.

Things were so comfortable with him that you often found yourself spending time with just him when Yoongi was occupied like he was now. You both shared your love for museums and art and literature, it was just easy.

Catching sight at the boys scarfing down pieces of meat as if it was their last meal, you can't help but feel a little sad. Not for yourself. But for Yoongi. Did he really have to overwork himself every day? Has he ever heard of taking a break? Relaxing? Eating when he was supposed to instead of skipping meals all the damn time.

You're lifting the smaller bag of food you had prepared specially for him. “I'm gonna go take this up, y'all enjoy.” Your words are barely acknowledged as Jungkook and Hoseok engage in a chopstick war over a large piece of beef.

With a shake of your head, you're making your way up the steps and down the long hallway toward his genius lab. Not missing a beat, you're typing in the digit password, waiting only a second before the red light is turning green and the door is unlocking. Pushing it open gently, you peer in hoping he wasn't in the middle of writing.

Interrupting him while he was making beats was way different from interrupting him while he was writing. A different type of concentration was required for his writing and he'd no doubt become annoyed if anyone ruined his flow in the middle of drafting a verse.

As expected, he's sat in front of his computer desk, headphones covering his ears and you could just faintly hear the beat of the music playing from them. He was asleep, though, he's gently closed and arms crossed over his chest as soft snores escaped through his parted lips. Smiling, you're setting the takeout bag onto the table and moving to his side.

A gentle poke against his arm and his shifting, sniffing and settling again. Unbelievably adorable in his baggy sweater and sweatpants. Your hand reaches up to push at his newly dyed black hair. His most handsome look, you decide.

“Baby...” You're whispering, shaking him slightly. Hoping that he'd wake up to at least move to lay on the couch. No doubt he'd complain about back pain if he continued to sleep in his chair like that.

Yoongi is stirring, eyes blinking open and a tired smile spreading onto his lips. “When did you get here?” He drawls, barely focused as he sits up a bit in his chair. “I just got here,” You reach up for his headphones, gently pulling them from his ears. “I brought you something to eat, do you want to nap a bit more first?”

He's smiling down at you, with so much love in his eyes. And your heart swells. Breath caught in your throat as he reaches his hand up to cup your face, thumb gently stroking over your cheekbone. “I dreamt of you,” The confession has your cheeks tinting pink.

“Yeah? What was I doing?” You wonder, standing up straight on your feet. He's lifting himself from his chair, following your steps to the couch. “You told me you loved me,” He replies casually, but you can hear the nervousness in his tone. Tried to mask it, but it was still there.

Yoongi's avoiding your gaze, reaching to dig through the bag of food you brought and you're smiling. Unable to believe how he tried to just slide that into a conversation as if he hadn't been wondering about it for weeks.

He had. The moment he realized he was undeniably in love with you, he couldn't keep himself from wondering if you felt the same way. And this dream? This dream was a common occurrence, where you'd smile and tell him that you were just as in love with him as he was with you. This was just the first time he was telling you about it, though.

“Oh, well. That makes sense, I do.” Your tone matches his and you're sinking into the couch beside him. You watch the stutter of his movements, the way his eyes widen slightly which he quickly tries to cover up.

He looks at you quickly, trying to remain stoic but there's a coloring on his cheeks that gives away to how flustered he's feeling. “You do?”

“Mhm, yeah. I love you,” He can't mask the grin that breaks over his features and before he knows it, he's leaning over to press his lips to yours. “I love you too,” He sighs, the weight being lifted off his chest as relief cruises through his veins.

Wide awake and uncharacteristically giddy, Yoongi serves out dishes for the both of you. Smiling hard each time he makes eye contact. You really did love this man.

HOSEOK

He's nervous, can tell from the way he's bouncing on the soles of his feet. Dressed in his concert outfit, ten minutes to stage and looking as if he's ready to throw up the dinner you two hastily scrafed down in fear of being late.

It was understandable, his nervousness. Tonight was a big night for him and the boys and no matter the hours of endless rehearsal, your boyfriend couldn't feel as though they were missing something. Like they didn't go over the steps enough times, felt like someone might forget the lyrics.

He just couldn't find it in himself to relax and that's where you came in. Despite the fact you had been warned by Yoongi to give Hoseok some space, you were rounding the corner to his dressing room the second you were walking away. Who really listened to Yoongi anyway?

It was normal for the others to keep their dance leader before a big performance, not wanting to be coaxed into practicing the choreography just one more time. They steered clear, sought him out just before the chant or if footage was needed for whatever they were filming at the time.

As for you, though, you had no need to worry about being guided through the steps of ON or asked to rethink think the impromptu steps of your solo song. Not your dance leader, or famous rapper, Hoseok was just your boyfriend. And right now your boyfriend needed more than a little encouragement.

“Baby,” Your hand finds his shoulders, stilling his movements and pulling his attention down to you instantly. He smiles big, the corners twitching from how forced it is. “You nervous?” You ask automatically, allowing yourself to be pulled into his chest.

“No, I'm fine.” He tries to shrug it off but you can hear the shake in his tone. Not to mention the fact he's standing and his legs haven't stopped bouncing since the first moment you spotted him.

“You have no reason to be. You guys are going to be great, you always are.” Your praise falls on deft ears, the movement in the corner of his eye pulling his focus. Taehyung had made the mistake of passing Hoseok's area and he realizes his mistake the second he hears his Hyung calling his name.

Tae's eyes widen, his steps picking up as he rushes back to wherever he came from. You can't help the laugh that slips past your lips, your hand reaching out to grasp your boyfriend's wrist to tug him toward you.

“Relax, baby. It'll be fine,” You're promising and he's looking down at you with a furrowed brow. “I'm relaxed,”

Your eyes are rolling before he can even finish his fib. “Sure you are,” You use the grip you hold on his hands to pull his body toward yours, wrapping them around your waist as you lean into him.

Just as you're leaning up to press your lips against his, he's being called off to take his spot. The long sensual kiss you had planned, is substituted with an innocent peck one that he's happily returning.

“I'll be right up front, cheering you.” You insure him as he pulls away, watching as he nods his head but you're not sure if he's really listening. His teammates appear as if from nowhere, huddling to do the chant. You watch as Hoseok takes part, shouting loud with the rest of them but that furrow never leaving his brow.

He's being shrugged into his jacket, mics checked and before you know it he's heading toward the stage. “I love you!” You call just before he's out of earshot. The way his body whips around is almost comical, eyes wide and jaw dropped. The furrow in his brow vanished.

Hoseok stares at you the entire time he's being ushered to sit on the push tram, and you're smiling big right back at him. Lifting your hand to wave him off, blowing a dozen kisses in his direction, shooting him thumbs up until he's out of sight.

You wonder if you just eased his mind, or gave him something else to be nervous about... no way to tell.

JIMIN

A loud crash sounds from backstage, followed a shouted 'FUCK' from your boyfriend. Five minutes off stage and he's pissed, could see it from the way he stormed down the stairs basically ripping the mic cords from his body. You attempted to chase after him, but being stopped by Namjoon who advised you to give him time to cool off.

You couldn't just stand around now, though. Your baby was hurting and nobody would tell you what was wrong. Slipping away, you followed the echo of the crash, pushing the door open to find Jimin sat on the floor; head in hands.

His shirt had been discarded, rejected on the floor, neatly styled hair messy and standing in all directions. His back shook as angry tears wet his cheeks, you were crossing the room and crouching in front of him without a second thought.

“Jimin, baby. What's wrong?” Your hand tangling in his hair, lifting his head so he could look at you. His plump lips form a sad pout, brows furrowed and cheeks flushed. He's lifting his hand to bat yours away, dropping his head again.

“Hey, talk to me.” You're reaching for him again, this time moving his arm. Fingers wrapping around his until he's lifting his head on his own. “What happened?” Making sure to keep your tone soft and understanding, ready to comfort.

“I messed up,” The crack in his voice has your heart shattering and you're about ready to break down right beside him. But, no, that's not what he needs right now. He was the one going through something, not you. You needed to reel it in. “And I couldn't get out of my head after that so I kept fucking doing it. Started to early, missed steps, and my throat is killing me. I sounded like shit, I know I did.”

You regret not paying attention to the performance, that way you'd be able to properly insure him that he was over exaggerating. That he was great out there, like he always was.

“Shh, baby. I'm sure you were fine,” Your hands are lifting to cup his face, thumbs moving to wipe the tears that stained his cheeks. “Even if you weren't, you always try your best and that's all that matters.” You try and he's rolling his eyes, moving back from you.

“You don't get it, I need to be perfect,” He's shooting back, his tone riddled with anger. You don't flinch, don't even blink. Just reach again for his hand, this time wrapping yourself in his arms.

“I don't think so. I love that you're not perfect and so do your fans. They'll see you tried your best, because I know you did. We'll just rest up and get ready for tomorrow, you'll do better then,” He's not as tense with you in his arms, the rapid raise of his chest slowing.

Your arms lift to wrap around his torso, head finding home on his bare chest. “I love you so much, alright? No need to beat yourself up,” Neither of you realize what you had just said, nor it being the first time you said it. He's calmer now, though. His fingers lazily dragging over your back.

“I love you too,” He's saying after a while of just sitting there and you feel your heart skip a beat. Eyes go wide as you hear his words. Realization all at once hitting you.

TAEHYUNG

Taehyung's hand rests on the small of your back, forehead pressed gently against yours, you can smell the cookies the two of you just devoured on his breath and you find yourself moving closer. He holds his phone in his free hand, headphones plugged in the port and an earbud shared between you.

“You sleep?” He asks, eyes studying the way your eyes flutter open to look up at him. You're shaking your head, body lowering so you can rest your cheek against his chest. You arms wrap around his waist and he smiles. “I'm awake, play the next song.”

Early this morning, Tae had texted you, excitement in his words as he gushed about the playlist he had created just for you. It was safe to say you felt your heart skip a beat at the knowledge that he had created something just for you. Feeling nervous with the idea of listening to it with him like he wanted.

But now, here in his arms his hushed hum as he listened to the lyrics that he constantly reminded were chosen because they remind him of you, you couldn't imagine doing this any other way.

Taehyung is pressing play on his phone and instantly you're being surrounded by the familiar beat of the next song. He played it often enough, you would've been surprised if it hadn't made an appearance on this. The artists memorizing voice caressed the beat, asking his lover to promise to never change, calling her an angel and declaring they'll be together into their late years.

This song reminded him of you? Did that mean he wanted to be with you for that long too? That he saw that far ahead in his future and you were there, in it with him. Your eyes find his, he's no longer looking at you, his gaze fixed on the ceiling above. Long fingers tap against the exposed skin on your back to the beat of the music.

And you're deciding right then and there that, yes, you wanted to be apart of his future. Whatever it was, you wanted it to be with him. No matter what. You're lifting to move closer to him, lips finding his cheek and catching his attention. He smiles big before leaning down to kiss you again.

The grip on your waist tightens as he quickly deepens the kiss, tongue slipping out to glide over your lower lip and instantly you're opening up your mouth for him. You loved him. Could feel it in your heart and through your veins. There was no one else but him and you needed him to know that.

Needed him to know how much you loved when he surprised you with little playlists, loved the way he held you in his arms, loved the way he kissed you... loved that he never tried to push you or pressure you.

You just loved him completely and you wanted to tell him. Finally, show him how he made you feel. A nervous hand slides down the front of his shirt, fingers grasping the fabric and slowly inching it up.

Taehyung is pulling back, eyes wide as he looks down at you. “What are you doing?” As if he didn't know, as if he wasn't ecstatic with the thought of you finally being willing to go all the way.

When you had told him you wanted to wait, he had respected that, was ready to wait as long as you wanted him to. But that didn't mean he lost all feeling down south, you know? He was still young and you were his too pretty for your own good girlfriend. And the fact that you didn't notice the effect you had on him only added to the constant state of arousal he was in.

“I love you, Taehyung.” Your hand is inching up the front of his shirt, cool fingers meeting his warm belly. He clutches the fabric of your shirt in his fist at the feeling of your nails scraping against the ridges of his abs. “Do you want to...?”

One look at your pouty lips and wanting eyes, Taehyung is losing every last one of his barrings. Lips crashing against yours as his hands slide lower on your waist, pulling your body from your spot on the bed and lifting you onto his lap. A giggle slips from your lips at his haste, your hands bracing themselves on his chest.

His large hands grasp your thighs, dark eyes finding yours. And you've never seen him look this serious before. “I love you, Yn.” He tells you sincerely. The swell grows in your heart and to hide your blushing cheeks, you're leaning down to press your lips against his again.

Positive that you'd never find a love like this again. Things just made sense with Taehyung and you were ready to be with him as long as you could.

JUNGKOOK

His thick laughter shakes your body, aftermath of the powerful thrust of his hips that had your body hurdling forward into his chest. Leave it to Jungkook to try to be comedic during an intimate moment. His strong hands grasp your waist, hips snapping up into you making your body jolt with each movement.

The head of his cock bruises against your cervix and he shows no signs of stopping any time soon. Nails claw at his chest as wanton moans slip past your hips, pathetically attempting to match the speed of his movements. The feat proving basically impossible.

“K-kookie, slow down...” Your words coated with breathless pants and he's only smirking, sitting up to rest his back against the headboard. “You want to quit already?” He teases, his strong arm holding you up on his waist. His thrusts have stopped and all you can concentrate on is the delicious way he stretches you. And now you're wishing he was moving again.

“N-no. Keep going,” You whine out and he's laughing, hips drawing back slowly before quickly snapping up. You gasp, pushing your ass down onto his lap to feel him deeper inside of you. That annoying smirk takes over his features while he reaches for your hips, holding your body in place as he slips into a quick pace.

Your body bounced in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist as you cling to his shoulders for dear life. His eyes watch the way your boobs shake with each thrust and if you knew your boyfriend, you could easily tell he's just seconds from wrapping his mouth around them.

Like clockwork, his head is leaning down, lips circling your hardened nipple and tongue swirling. Pleasure washes throughout your limbs, warming your entire body and you can't help but want more. Spread your legs wider, push your hips against his, begging for him to push you over the edge.

He smirks at the request a hand sliding down your front, callused thumb finding your clit. Jungkook creates fast circles with the digit, eyes lifting to watch the way your jaw drops; silent cries falling from your lips.

All at once, your body is tightening, walls squeezing his cock. You're squirming above him, head thrown back and hips bucking. Incoherent cries and pleas fall from your lips as you reach your climax, his finger never letting up nor his thrusts.

Seconds short of your own release, Jungkook is letting go too. Cruses falling from his lips as his pace slows until he's pinning himself deep inside of you, cum leaving the tip of his dick in thick spurts and coating your walls. Your body jumps at the warm sensation, it almost being enough to push you over the edge once more.

He's pulling out before that can happen, though. Leaning up to press his lips against yours at the same time pulling your body down to lay on top of his. An arm wrapped around your waist, your legs tangled with him the both of you concentrate on trying to regulate your breathing.

“Did you mean it?” Jungkook's asking after moments of silence, making a big deal of avoiding your gaze. Even still, you're looking at him with confusion. “Did I mean what?” You're lifting your head slightly so you can look at her properly.

There's a pink tint in his cheeks, despite that fact he had just been buried inside of you. He still managed to look bashful around you. “While you were... you said you loved me. You said it a lot actually,” His cheeks darkened in shade and you were sure that yours matched his.

“I said that?” He's nodding, only looking at you before continuing his staring contest with the wall. “So, did you mean it?”

It had only been a few months since you and Jungkook to turn you casual fling into something more serious, but even before that you knew that you felt something... different for him. He was a great guy. Attentive, like no other guy you've been with had been before. He was genuine and transparent, all you could ever ask for.

Shy in ways that had you awing at him, proud to see him break out of his shell and laugh with his entire body. He had you living for the moments where he truly let loose and was just himself. Because himself was... who you were in love with.

“Yeah, I meant it.” You're smiling at him when he musters enough courage to turn and look at you. Big eyes set wide, the smile on his lips slowly growing. “I love you,” You're repeating for good measure and he looks as if he's about to jump from the bed and do a victory lap.

“You don't know how relieved I am. Thought maybe you were imaging someone else during, you know? But, no... you love me,” You roll your eyes, reaching your hand to grasp his jaw in your palm. Easily, you bring his face down to yours, kissing him sweetly.

“And?” You prompt.

“And?” That stupid smirk is on his lips and you scoff, letting go of his face and gently pushing him back onto the pillows of the bed. He's laughing loud, body lifting before he's reaching to pull your body onto his.

“You know I'm kidding. I love you too,” He smiles that big bunny smile of his and you're matching it, covering his lips with yours. Your already warm body is warmer just from the feeling of his lips, maybe his confession has something to do with it too. All you know is you could get use to that feeling.

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sheerbeautyreigns · 4 years ago

Text

DESIRE

Part 18

Angsty Joe and Colby 😩

Gently, Colby opened the hotel room door. The lights were all off but the curtains were still open. The lights from the parking lot flooded in. He could make out Joe's frame on the bed. He was lying on his stomach, his top half on display. He padded lightly into the room, stripping down to his boxers. As he crept into bed, Joe stirred. It was almost 1am. The Samoan turned his back but remained asleep. He looked peaceful. Colby lay on his side, watching as little breaths escaped his slightly parted lips.

He wanted so desperately to be with this man but it was just too complicated with Paul in the picture. He had lured his best friend into some sort of web he had created and he didn’t know if there was any way of truly getting him out of it.

The following morning, Colby awoke to the sound of the tapping of Joe laptop. He eyed the desk by the window. Joe was sat, hair up in a knot, wearing a white bathrobe and his spectacles. He looked deep in concentration. He always looked so sexy in spectacles. He just lay watching him until Joe paused and looked up over his screen. “You OK.” His deep monotone voice filled the room.

Colby shifted on the bed. “I didn’t hear you come in last night,” he continued, relaxing back on his seat a little. “Nah, I didn’t want to wake you.” Joe got up off the seat and started towards the bed. He sat next to Colby on his side. “I’m sorry if I upset you last night. I don’t want this to affect our friendship.”

“It’s OK…I just…I just like spending time with you but…” he hesitated. “Go on-” Joe pushed gently looking into his dark eyes. “Look, you know it’s complicated now that you’re with Paul. I can’t risk him finding out about this.”

“He won’t,” Joe told him. “How do you know? He’s already suspicious.” Colby raised his voice again. “Do you want to end this? Is that what you want?”

“No-” Joe exclaimed looking frustrated now. “I don’t know what I want. I thought it was a casual thing between us but over the past two weeks, something has shifted.” His eyes met Colby’s again.

“It’s this thing with Paul. I can’t…tear you away from him can I?” his voice dropped a little. There was that feeling again. At that moment, his phone rang, startling them both. Joe looked apologetically at Colby before retrieving it from the desk, by his laptop. It was Paul. He eyed Colby before answering it. “Hey,” he said lowly turning towards the sliding doors going out to the balcony. Colby rolled his eyes and got out of bed and went into the bathroom. He shut the door and proceeded to turn on the shower when he heard Joe voice outside. The small bathroom window overlooked it.

“Well, its made things awkward. I don’t know why you would have wanted that.”

Colby’s eyebrow furrowed as the conversation unfolded.

“I know. I do trust you but he’s a very close friend.” There was a pause. “I thought this whole thing was just between us in the bedroom?”

“I don’t know if I want that.” He sounded stressed. “I fucked him like you asked me to. I don’t know why you-” A dark look crossed Colby’s face when he heard what Joe had said. He could feel his heart racing in his chest. “Look, let’s talk about this on Friday. The Carlton? OK, cool. He’s still here and we have to check out in an hour.”

Colby was fuming. He turned on the spray of the shower and stepped under.

Joe came back into the room. Hearing that Colby was in the shower, he went about getting changed and gathering his belongings. The door opened about 15 minutes later. Colby emerged, hair in a low ponytail, wearing his boxers. Colby didn’t even want to look at him. He immediately went about changing into a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt, collecting his things and throwing them into his overnight bag. Joe could tell instantly that something was up.

“You OK?” Joe asked looking in his direction. The young man ignored him. He pursed his lips growing closer and touching his arm. “Don’t touch me!” he seethed. Joe swallowed. Had he heard the conversation? “I heard what you said to Paul. You disgust me!”

Joe was taken aback by Colby’s outburst.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, I didn’t-” he started. “Let me explain-”

“I don’t know what kinda game you’re playing with him but he’s fucking with you. I don’t know why you can’t see that. I’ve been with you since day one! Would you have fucked me if he didn't tell you to???”

Joe felt deeply ashamed. “I’m so sorry man, I didn’t want to.”

“It’s too late for apologies now,” Colby zipped up his bag and shoved his feet into his boots. “I’m done!” With that he left the room.

“Fuck!” Joe cursed.

Joe was glad to have the next few days home to himself. He kept himself busy with some DIY. His mother came to visit, which was nice as he hadn’t seen her in weeks. It was tough being on the road so often so when he was home, Joe made the most of it. He was due to fly to Atlanta the following day. Based on what had happened with Colby, he had contemplated getting his own hotel room and not seeing Paul again. He was so torn up about how he had used and hurt his friend. He tried to call and had sent him several messages, all of which were ignored. Usually if they had a disagreement, Colby would cave after a couple of days but this went much, much deeper. He eyed the rooms on Booking.com, clicking on the Hyatt Regency. At that moment, his phone vibrated. It was Paul again. He had called a couple of times and sent a few messages but Joe was not ready to deal with him. He would have to face him at some point though and the fact that he was the COO didn’t make matters any easier. He answered.

“Hey,” he said raising his free hand and sweeping his hair back.

“So you finally decided to answer me?” he started in his gravelly tone.

“Things are fucked between Colby and I. Are you happy now? This is what you wanted isn’t it? To drive a wedge between us?” Paul stayed silent for a moment. “It wasn’t what I wanted. I had a feeling that you were still seeing him and I wanted to see what you would do.”

“Well he knows that Monday night was your idea and he’s pissed with me.” Joe stood up and started pacing around the room. “How did he find out!?”

“Well I’m assuming he overheard when you called me Tuesday morning.”

“Fucking hell Joe!” Paul raised his voice.

“This is not my fault! If you weren’t so concerned with giving me orders, none of this would have happened!” Joe roared back, a scowl upon his handsome face.

“OK relax, relax. This arguing is getting us nowhere.” Paul was clearly trying to diffuse the situation. “I can talk to Colby if you want…tell him this was none of your fault.”

“No! He hates you, it’ll make it worse.” Joe started “Look sorry, I know you both don’t see eye to eye.”

“I am his boss though so he’ll just have to deal with it.” Paul said firmly.

“This whole thing is a mess.” Joe sounded hopeless. “Baby, don’t worry. We’ll fix it, I swear. True, we don’t get along but I don’t want it to ruin your friendship. I can’t have you unhappy.” He started cooling off a bit. “Look I’ll schedule a meeting with him tomorrow. Take it from there. I have a lot to do behind the scenes along with a few other meetings tomorrow evening. What time do you think you’ll be finished?”

“Around 9 I think. I have a singles match with Sami.”

“OK well you can let me know for sure and I”ll have a car take you to the Carlton. OK?” Paul advised. Joe was still hesitant. “OK?”

“OK…I just want this thing with Colby sorted. It’s stressing me out.” He started pacing again. “Look, I don’t want you stressed. I want us to have a nice time this weekend. I’ve booked us a nice suite. I want you to relax OK.”

Joe nodded. “OK.” Paul always had a way of making him feel better. “What are you doing?”

“Getting my things together. It’s been a stressful couple of days so I plan on some downtime with you this weekend. No interruptions. I can’t wait to see you,” Joe smiled at Paul’s words. He was starting to feel at ease.

It was 5pm the next day when Colby was called to Paul’s meeting room. He had received an email the night before about it with no idea on what it was about.

“You wanted to see me?” The young man said entering the room. “Close the door. Have a seat.” Paul gestured towards the seat on the other side of the desk he was occupying. He closed down his laptop and set it aside. It had been a while since Paul had seen Colby in person. They normally kept their distance.

“I think we both know what this is about,” Paul started clasping his hands together in front of him. “You tell me,” Colby shrugged folding his arms. Still a bra. Paul thought observing his body language.

“Joe told me what happened. I want you to know that none of it was his fault. It was my idea.” Paul said calmly, keeping eye contact. Colby paused a moment. Paul taking responsibility? Maybe he had changed?

“Why did you do it?” he finally asked, a stern look on his face. “I know you both have a history. I can’t keep an eye on him when he”s on the road…basically, I don’t trust him with you.”

“More like you don’t trust him when he’s with me?” Colby defended raising his voice a little. “I know what you’re like. You sleep around.” He started, trying to shame him. “What I do is nobody’s business-” Paul cut him off “It is when it concerns Joe alright?”

“Look, I’ve been friends with him since day one. We’ve always roomed together. Why the fuck did you tell him to sleep with me if it was going to be such a problem?”

“I had a feeling you two couldn’t share a room without fucking so I wanted it to be on my terms. Simple.” Paul stated, matter of factly.

“Well, that’s fucked up. I don’t like how you’re treating him-” Colby exclaimed. “He’s a good guy. I won’t see you fuck him up Paul.”

“Believe it or not, I know that. Look, we’ve had our past, it didn’t work out but I’ve changed.” Paul tried to reason with him. “I just want you to keep your distance from now on.”

Colby scowled at him. “Are we done here? I’ve got stuff to do.”

“We’re done.” Paul gestured towards the door.

It was 8:45pm when Joe arrive backstage after competing against Sami. He was glad it was over. His stomach had been in knots all day about the whole Paul and Colby situation. As he entered the men’s locker room, he bumped into Colby, who was putting on his boots. There was nobody else around.

“I’ve been trying to reach you all week.” He said softly, approaching him.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about this. Not now.” Colby told him, keeping his focus on getting ready. “I have a match and I don’t need this shit.”

“Fair enough.” Joe pursed his lips and proceeded in grabbing his bag which was on the bench nearby. The silence between them was deafening, something they both weren’t used to. Colby looked in Joe direction after he heard him sigh aloud, undoing his vest.

“Look,” Colby broke the silence approaching him. “What went down this week was really shitty and I don’t think I could ever forgive you.”

“I’m so sorry, I really am.” Joe said sincerely looking into his eyes.

“I just think its best if we call it a day.” He announced. Joe eyes widened. He looked hurt. “I don’t want this to ruin our friendship Colby, please.” At that moment, one of the crew knocked and came in.

“Colby, you’re on in 5.” He called from the door. “I’ll be right there.” The crew member left, closing the door behind him. “That’s on your back.” He simply said as he left. Joe felt defeated. He was already starting to run late. He hadn’t even showered. Fuck. He quickly stripped off in the shower and freshened up. It was almost 9pm when he left the locker room and headed for the car. Seeing Colby had really messed with his mood. He had been looking forward to seeing Paul but now he just felt sick to his stomach. Paul messaged him.

I’ve left a card for you at the desk. I”ll be in the shower so let yourself in.

#roman reigns #wwe #tribal chief #fic #fanfiction #roman reigns fic #d/s #seth rollins #joe anoai #colby lopez #m/m #angst

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