#i’m taking some ibuprofen now and drinking lots of water and gonna think about kissing her for the rest of the year probably | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

teenyweenynightghost · 3 years ago

Note

Haii!! I absolutely adore your writing and was wondering if you would be up to write something comforting with Ethan where reader is having the period from hell? Thank you ❤

Oh ho ho this should be fun

Y/n was sleeping over at Ethan’s for the first time. She had feelings for him for god knows how long, and the night he asked her out was probably the happiest she had ever been.

Their date had been unbelievable. Y/n felt as if time stopped and she was the only person on Earth along with Ethan, as cheesy as that may sound

When it started raining, they both hurried to his car and drove quickly to his place.

“God, I didn’t think the night would end like this.” Y/n chuckled, draining her hair in Ethan’s bathtub, while he was brushing his teeth next to her.

“You can sleep in one of my shirts.” Ethan mumbled, almost choking on the tooth paste

“What?”

“I said” he spit out all the paste and rinsed his mouth “you can sleep in one of my shirts.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a bit and she blushed a bit at his suggestion, before nodding sheepishly and putting her hair in a bun.

Ethan chuckled and muttered a few words Y/n didn’t quite catch, before leaving the room.

In a few moments, he came back with a large t-shirt. It was burgundy and had a logo in the middle. Ethan gave it to Y/n and left her alone to change

That night she had fallen asleep in his warm embrace, listening to the rain drops hit the windows

She felt as if it was a dream come true, and the only thought on her mind was Ethan

Luckily for her, Ethan felt the exact same way

He held her close all night, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, and dreamed of her

Ethan woke up to a slap. He opened his eyes grumpily and looked for the source of pain, only to see Y/n turned away from him, in that position all girls sleep in; the one where they have a leg up and they’re on their stomach

That’s when he saw that Y/n had started her period

There was a large, red stain seeping through her underwear and another few spots on the bedding

Damn, he shouldn’t have put on white ones

Stretching a bit and getting out of bed, he started to think about what he could do.

He didn’t know how much Y/n trusted him or how she would react to this, so the two smartest choices that he had were to either wake her up and tell her what happened, or prepare everything for when se would wake up

Eventually, he decided going for the latter.

Heading to the living room and grabbing his keys , he got in the car and drove to the nearest pharmacy around.

The man was walking down the unbearably white aisles of the pharmacy, looking for some ibuprofen and tampons

He really didn’t know what type Y/n used, and he wasn’t about to be like that dude on TikTok who asked his girlfriend what size pussy she was, so he took 4 types

Maybe different colors would mean something…or maybe scent?

He made a mental reminder to ask Y/n if they had any flavors

After searching forever, he ended up having a kilogram of pads, three types of sheet masks and a new lotion, but no pain medication

They must have been hidden

Eventually giving up, he went to the cashier and placed all the products on the register

“Tough times with the lady?” The woman asked, sending him an all-too knowing smirk

“I hope not. Speaking of which, do you happen to have any pain medication?”

Ethan left the store smirking, having received a 20% discount for being “so cute”, and he also got a small chapstick as a gift

His next stop was the grocery shop

He already knew what he needed, so the trip would be easy; Twix, KitKat, Puffy Cheetos, Aloe Drink, and A LOT of Chocolate milk

It didn’t take long for him to find everything, so he wondered around the shop for a little longer, picking up a few more things

Y/n was startled awake by some people screaming outside

She jumped out of bed and hurried to the window, only to see that they were a group of friends who were just pranking one another

She groaned and pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling a painful hotness around the area

Looking back at the bed, her heart stopped in her chest as she saw that there was a trail of blood behind her

Oh gods, her period came in the worst moment possible. Did Ethan see? Did he run away out of disgust?

She paced around the room nervously, thinking of what to do, yet ignoring the sound of running water coming from the bathroom

She shrieked when she heard a knock on the door and tried to hide the bloodied sheets as well as she could.

“Cara mia, are you awake?” Ethan’s soft voice was muffled by the door, which only made Y/n feel worse.

“No?”

She heard Ethan chuckle before seeing him enter the room. He seemed to have a reassuring look on his face, but Y/n could tell there was some pity in there too.

“Wanna come with me?” He asked her softly, taking her silky hand in his and leading her to the bathroom before she could answer

Y/n watched as he opened the door to the bathroom and led her inside. The shower was running and there were some clothes on the counter

“Get in the shower. I’ll take care of everything else.” He said, looking at Y/n so softly that her heart exploded and she burst into a fit of tears

His armed were around her in a second, comforting her as best as he could, but he truly did not know the reason why she was crying

“Baby, is everything all right? Why are you crying?” He asked her, worry written all over his face.

“Im sorry…I’m just” she sniffled a bit, shedding a few more tears, “no one ever took care of me when I was on my period and you’re being so fucking sweet and I ruined your sheets and everything is wrong and my stomach hurts and FUCK why did It have to come now we could have-“

“Woah, woah, woah, take a deep breath, dolcezza. Like that, just relax.” He interrupted her ramblings, wiping the tears off her face.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about the sheets. I’ll clean them later. We can just stay in bed all day and relax. How does that sound?”

Y/n nodded slightly against his shoulder, pulling herself away and wiping her face.

“Okay.” Her voice was still raspy, and she looked at the shower. At that moment, washing her entire body felt like an unbelievably long and exhausting process. She slumped her shoulders at the thought of it and puffed.

“Let me wash you. It’ll go by quicker.”

Y/n nodded and started taking her clothes off, too exhausted to care about Ethan’s red face. Even though he had offered, he couldn’t help but think about other circumstances in which he would get in a shower with Y/n.

Regardless, it was not the time for such things.

Once she was inside, he grabbed the shampoo and squirted some in his hand, thinking of a way to lather it on Y/n without getting wet.

“Now how are you gonna do that without ending up in the shower too, Mr Edgar?” Y/n teased, letting her head fall back as the warm water glided down her body.

While trying to find a solution, Ethan’s gaze fell on the floor, which was now filled with blood.

“Y/n are you alright?” His tone instantly changed, now being extremely worried about how much blood came out of her.

“Yeah. Why?” She followed his gaze to the ground, seeing what he was staring at. She let out a low laugh before grabbing the bottle from Ethan.

“It’s creepy, I know. You don’t have to wash me.”

“No. I said I would help and I want to. Do you mind if I join in?” He asked sheepishly, concerned about crossing any boundaries with the girl.

“Whatever floats your boat.”

The man nodded, getting out and taking his clothes off. He placed them neatly next to Y/n’s, then got back in the shower.

Y/n was facing the wall, so Ethan pressed a soft kiss to her neck from behind her.

“I bought some goodies too.”

Y/n just hummed in response, leaning against Ethan. His hands instinctively went to her shoulders and started massaging them, earning a few whimpers from Y/n

“I can give you a massage later…”

“Absolutely.”

They both chuckled a bit, before Ethan got to actually cleaning Y/n. He softly lathered the soap all over her body, letting the water wash away the bubbles.

“Okay…I’m gonna leave you alone now, considering that I don’t know how to put on a tampon.”

“Alright.” Y/n responded, blushing slightly from all the contact. She heard Ethan take a towel and dry himself off, before getting dressed and leaving.

Ethan was in the kitchen, his phone in front of him as he sat prompted against the counter

Now close your eyes, and with a deep breath, release all the pent up frustration inside of you

“Um, Ethan? You said you had food?”

The brunette jumped up and hurried to close his phone, blushing furiously as he turned towards Y/n.

“Yes, right it’s over th-“

“Were you meditating?”

“Maybe.”

“You were.” (The bitch was so horny he had to reset his mind)

“You said you wanted food.” He finally managed to switch the topic, as Y/n’s eyes lit up.

“Gimmie.” She stretched out her arms and closed her hands repetitively, beckoning for Ethan to give her the snacks.

“Alright, alright. I’ll grab a few more things and come. Just go in the bathroom and get in bed.”

Y/n pouted, but eventually followed Ethan’s instructions. She was surprised to see that he had changed the sheets and lit up a few candles. She smiled to herself before cuddling up under the blankets.

Soon enough, Ethan entered the room with some snacks and drinks, a hot pouch and some medication.

“Here is some ibuprofen, if you have cramps, and a hot pouch.”

Y/n could have moaned in pleasure when she placed the hot object on her stomach, relieving a lot of the pain.

She gulped down the pills, cuddling into Ethan, who had an arm wrapped around her and another one massaging her butt.

He nuzzled into her neck, smiling a bit and breathing in her chocolatey scent.

“Squishy.” He joked, squeezing her butt, which made Y/n erupt in a mess of giggles.

She leaned over and grabbed a cereal bar, unwrapping it smoothly before shoving it down her throat.

“Thank you so much Ethan. I really don’t know how to tell you…no one has ever done this for me before.” She whispered, twirling a strand of his hair around her finger.

“I’ll always be here when you need me. Now you just need to sleep.”

“Okay…”

A/n: so i know this isn’t particularly a head canon, but the only way I can write is if my brain thinks im writing something short with bullet points, even though it would be a normal piece If I were to remove them😂

Taglist: @fuckim-so-gay @ginny-lily @messyhairday-me @cheese-toastie-11 @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @simp-per-ethan @maneskinrollercoaster @juststalking @superchrystaldrug @immrbrightsideeee @shehaddreamstoo @tiaamberxx @victoriadeangeliswifey @bidet-and-legolas @makapaka11 @electra-phoebe

#maneskin #victoria de angelis #ethan torchio #damiano david #thomas raggi #måneskin #maneskin fic #ethan x reader #fluffy

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moldisgoodforyou · 4 years ago

Note

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

I missed these fools :’)

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

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

__________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you ever had road head?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can be plenty fun.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“JJ?”

“Yeah, pretty girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“JJ.”

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

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

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

_____

taglist: @cognacdelights @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @sunshineitsfine44 @obxjjjohnb @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @nearlydanger9 @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @teamnick @oopsiedoopsie23 @abbyj1822

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

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topsytervy · 4 years ago

Text

Wisdom Teeth ~ JJ Maybank

Blurb: JJ takes care of you after you get your wisdom teeth out. Not gonna lie, this post is kind of a mess

Word Count: 1,890

Warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, small mention of alcohol/drinking, I think that’s it.

I’m just going to say that this is based off of my wisdom teeth experience. I didn’t get gassed or put under, my moms friend suggested me holding alcohol in my mouth cause she did that when she got hers out and it worked for her (it worked for me enough to let me sleep like the dead, and my mom kept laughing at me.

I aged JJ and the reader to 19 cause why not.

I also lowkey started thinking of JJ taking care of his kids after their wisdom teeth get pulled and thats shows in the ending.

anyway, small shoutout to @taylathornton who got me thinking about this after she said something about JJ or Rafe taking care of the reader when they get their wisdom teeth out.

~~~~

You walked out into the waiting room, gauze on either side of your mouth, your boyfriend standing by the counter as someone gave him the same rundown they gave you post-extraction.

JJ smiled as he saw you, not that you could see with the mask over the bottom half of his face, and pulled you into his side.

"Just remember that if you still feel pain while taking the prescription he gave you today, call back and he'll prescribe you something stronger." the lady said.

You nodded as you shoved the sheet filled with the instructions, prescriptions, and the extra gauze they gave you into JJ's hands. JJ said a quick thank you to the lady and then directed you to the door, every penny being covered by your insurance.

Thank God.

"How do you feel, princess?" He asked, intertwining your fingers together.

"You didn't tell me the extraction was such a violent process." You told him.

Well, attempted to tell him but the gauze in your mouth wasn't helping. The mask definitely added to muffling your voice.

JJ chuckled. "What?" He asked, unlocking the truck.

"You didn't tell me the extraction was such a violent process." You said slower, louder, and slightly more enunciated.

JJ helped you into the truck. "Didn't want to scare you, Y/N/N."

"I can do it myself. I wasn’t gassed or anything. Just numbed." You swatted his hand away as he went to buckle you in.

He held up his hands. "Alright. I'm sorry."

"Besides the lady said that I was surprisingly calm during the process." You informed him as you took off your mask.

"That's good." He closed the door and walked over to the driver’s side, climbing in as he also took off his mask. "Since you were so good during the process, how about you remind me in a week to take you to Dairy Queen and we'll get you some ice cream." He suggested, leaning over the center console and brushing some hair out of your face.

"Can I get chicken tenders too?" You asked, looking at your blonde boyfriend with the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

JJ let out a laugh as he started the truck and began to pull out of the parking lot. "Yeah. You can get chicken tenders too, princess."

You smiled, reaching into your mouth to readjust the blood-soaked gauze only to have JJ swat your hand away. "Don't."

"But I feel like I’m swallowing the gauze every time I go to swallow my saliva." You whined.

JJ sighed. "That’s because the roof of your mouth is swollen so it makes it difficult to swallow the saliva. Just leave the gauze where it is."

You shot JJ a look before bringing your hand to your mouth again. JJ reached over and grabbed your wrist his eyes never leaving the road.

"Y/N." He warned.

"JJ." You imitated.

"I said don't touch it."

You took your wrist away from him and crossed your arms, looking out the window.

"Keep that up and you won’t get dairy queen next week. I'll get myself dairy queen and you can keep eating soup and mashed potatoes."

"You're so mean to me sometimes, J." You whispered.

"Only cause I love you and care about you, baby." He smiled, his hand going to your thigh and giving it a light squeeze.

You uncrossed your arms and took his hand in yours. "You're so sweet."

JJ shook his head. "Flip-floppy today, huh. 3 seconds ago I was mean and now I'm sweet."

You shrugged. "You're a flip-floppy guy. You threw me off the dock once when it was chilly outside and then gave me clothes to change into not even three minutes later."

"That's called being a gentleman." He smirked.

"No. It's called being an asshole with a heart."

JJ snorted as he pulled into the pharmacy parking lot, pulling into a parking space before throwing the truck in park and grabbed his wallet along with your prescriptions.

"Stay here. I’ll be back." He kissed your temple before putting his mask back on, adjusting it so it was over his nose.

You shot him a thumbs-up as you pulled out your phone, taking the time to reply to Kie and Sarah who wanted to check in on you. They both offered to come over and take care of you but you told them you were fine cause you had JJ with you.

Kie immediately replied with a 'that's why we're offering.'

You let out a small giggle before sending them an 'I'm sure JJ can handle it' before locking your phone and pulling down the sun visor to look in the mirror.

You opened your mouth and made a face as you looked at the inside of your mouth and saw the dried blood on your lips.

JJ opened the door and slid back into the driver’s seat, placing the bag with the two pill bottles in your lap. "You know, technically you’re supposed to keep pressure on the gauze for an hour so it clot and shit."

"You didn't tell me the inside of my mouth looks like it’s having its own little period. I smiled at you with my mouth looking like I took a baseball or something to the teeth." You scolded.

"Princess, and I mean this with all the love in my heart, you look like a hockey player who took a puck to the teeth." JJ laughed as he put the car in drive and made his way to the grocery store.

"JJ," you whined, not finding his comparison cute in the slightest.

"What? It's more accurate than the baseball comparison you said."

"Stop laughing at me, J. It's not funny."

"I'm sorry. You're just so whiney right now and it's adorable to me. Makes me want to bundle you up and hold you in my arms and protect you from all the evil in the world." JJ glanced at you. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked out the window. “Y/N, don’t be like this now.”

“You’re being mean to me.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are. I’m over here bleeding, preparing for the numbness to wear off and the pain to set in and you’re laughing at me.”

JJ grabbed your hand and pressed it to his lips. “I’m sorry, baby. Can you accept me buying you soup as my way of asking for your forgiveness?”

He stopped at a stop sign and looked over at you, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

You sighed. "I suppose."

He grinned as he squeezed your hand lightly. “See, you can’t stay mad at me forever, Y/N/N.”

You rolled your eyes before leaning your head against the headrest. “It’s because I need you to take care of me while I’m healing.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. As much as I love Kie and Sarah, I don’t think their cuddles can compare to yours.”

JJ nodded. “Fair enough. That’s all you need me for? Cuddles?”

You shrugged. “We’ll see.”

****

Within two hours, you were tearing up as the numbness wore off, the pain coming in at full force. You laid on the couch in the living room of the apartment you and JJ shared, a blanket thrown over your body.

JJ walked over with a glass of water and the pills you were prescribed. “Alright, here’s your amoxicillin, and here’s your ibuprofen.” He handed you the pills as you sat up.

You popped the two pills into your mouth, taking the glass of water from your boyfriend’s hand before taking a sip and swallowing the pills. JJ took the glass from you and set it on the end table as you sniffed.

“You know what might help?” JJ asked, walking over to one of the cabinets and opening it.

“What?”

“I know you’re not a big drinker, Y/N, but I remember Mr. Heyward telling me when I got my wisdom teeth out that, if you take vodka, whiskey, tequila, whatever, and kind of hold it in your mouth, tilting your head left and right, it’ll help with the pain. It almost renumbs it and because it’s alcohol, it also helps fight infections.” JJ explained, grabbing the bottle of vodka he had stashed away.

He grabbed a shot glass and filled it up before bringing it over to you.

“JJ, baby, I don’t think I should be having alcohol after taking a 600 mg ibuprofen and a 500 mg amoxicillin. Besides, I’m pretty sure that’s what the amoxicillin is for anyway.”

JJ sighed. “I know, princess, but I’m trying to help you out here. It hurts me to see you hurting.”

“And just two hours ago you were saying it was cute when I’m all whiney.” You joked.

“You are cute when you’re whiney and not in pain. Now you’re just in pain and I don’t like it.”

You looked at JJ with a frown. “How about we just cuddle for the rest of the day? Maybe take a nap because I’m all tuckered out.”

JJ smiled lightly, downing the shot of vodka before heading over to you and picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as your arms snaked around his neck, him holding you up by your thighs. He carried you into your bedroom, taking one of his hands and pulling back the blankets before gently setting you down and tucking you in.

He climbed in on his side, gently pulling you into his side, putting a pillow on top of his upper arm so you weren’t resting on his arm, knowing that it wouldn’t help the pain at all.

“Comfortable, princess?” He asked.

You hummed in response, your arm draping across his stomach.

He kissed the top of your head, brushing your hair away from your face.

“I’m sorry in advance if I drool on you. I’m even more sorry if it’s bloody drool.” You muttered.

“It’s alright. You can drool on me whenever you want, bloody or not.”

You smiled. “And Kie and Sarah were worried about you taking care of me.”

JJ scoffed. “I always take care of you so Kie and Sarah can shove a sock in it.”

You giggled. “It’s okay, baby. I defended you and your ability to take care of me.”

“I would hope so. After all, I’m buying you Dairy Queen next week. I don’t buy Dairy Queen for anybody, you know.”

“I know.” You sighed.

It was quiet for a few minutes and you were almost asleep before JJ spoke again.

“You gotta eat your soup and mashed potatoes though or else you don’t get chicken tenders next week.”

You let out a laugh. “Oh my god, JJ. You sound like my dad when I had to go get shots.”

“That just means I’m prepared for when we have kids. The whole bribery part of parenting, in the bag.” JJ stated with a nod.

You nodded. “Alright, baby. I can’t wait to tell our kids how you knew you were ready to be a father because you told me a week after my wisdom teeth were removed, you were going to buy me chicken tenders and ice cream.”

JJ smiled. “And I can’t wait to be saying the same thing to them when they get their wisdom teeth out.”

~~~~~~

#jj outer banks #jj maybank #jj obx

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clinttbartton · 3 years ago

Text

Jack gets sick on the road. Sam knows how to dad. Set early season 14.

read on ao3

---

Zepplin plays softly through the Impala's speakers. The early morning darkness outside smothers them like the knitted blanket draped over Jack where he's stretched out across the back seat. His head is pillowed on his jacket, and his legs are curled up near his middle.

Sam and Dean slump in the front seat, Dean behind the wheel and Sam scrolling on his tablet without really reading anything in an effort to stay awake. They speak in murmurs back and forth about the hunt they're returning from, about how they need rest.

"And showers."

"And about four pounds of bacon."

About how Castiel and Mom are waiting for them back at the bunker.

Just as Sam is finally getting into the article he has open, Jack shifts from lying on his side to his back and makes a noise in his sleep. Nightmares aren't uncommon for Jack, not for any of them, and Sam wonders if he should wake him or let him ride it out.

As if he’s read Sam’s mind, Dean glares and gives a shake of his head to Sam’s unspoken thought of pulling over and checking on the kid. Dean's been driving a long time and no doubt he's gunning to get home as fast as possible. He knows from experience too that pulling over isn't going to magically chase the nightmares away the next time Jack falls asleep. Sam concedes for the moment and turns back to his tablet.

The third time Jack cries out, Sam reaches his arm over the seat and pats Jack's leg. "Jack, buddy, hey."

Jack wakes with a start and groans again. "Sam?"

"Hey, it's me, I'm here. You okay?"

"I- I don't think so." Jack shivers under the blanket and winces as he shifts again. "I was having weird dreams. I'm cold, but when I have the blanket on me I feel too hot, like I'm on fire. And I hurt all over."

"Hurt? Like aches?"

Jack nods. Sam sighs. Hm. Not just nightmares then.

"Sounds like you might have a fever, kiddo. We'll pull over soon," he shoots Dean a pointed look across the front seat, "and take your temperature, get some medicine, alright?"

They pull into a Gas-n-Sip just as the approaching sun is painting everything gray, and Sam pops the glove box open to find the thermometer he stowed in there shortly after Jack lost his grace. Dean raises an eyebrow, as if he isn't the one who’s kept baby wipes in the trunk since before Sam turned twelve, and Sam rolls his eyes, straightening up as he steps out of the car. "What? Never know when we might need it."

He sticks the boxy end of the thermometer between his teeth so his hands are free and rummages in the trunk to pull out what he's looking for, a bottle of ibuprofen in case Jack doesn't have a fever after all. He strides around to the back driver's side door and swings it open where Jack's head is resting.

Sam hates to wake him now that the kid's finally gotten to sleep, but it's unlikely he'll have another chance to check him over until they're home.

"Jack?” he murmurs. “Wake up, sit up for me."

Jack groggily cracks his eyes open and tries to pull the blanket tighter around himself. It takes him a few moments to process what Sam said, but eventually he hauls himself upright and slumps against the seat, flushed cheek pressed against the vinyl. Under the florescent gas station lights and the early morning sky, Sam can see the dark circles under Jack’s eyes and the sheen of sweat at his hairline and the goosebumps on his arms where the blanket isn't covering them.

"How much longer until we're home?"

"A lot longer if we keep hamming and hawing," Dean calls from where he's pumping gas. He's only being a dick because he hates to see Jack sick too and wants to get home so he can fix him soup and Cas can heal him, but his impatience does nothing but piss Sam off.

"It's hemming and hawing, Dean," Sam snaps over his shoulder. He turns back to Jack and brushes at the hair hanging in the kid's eyes.

He takes Jack's temperature: 100.6. Not dangerous, but he's definitely come down with something.

"I'm gonna run inside for some medicine. Do you want the syrup kind you drink or the capsules you swallow?"

Jack thinks a moment. The last time he took capsules, he'd nearly gagged trying to swallow them, so Sam isn't surprised when he croaks, "Syrup, please."

Sam pushes Jack's hair back from his forehead one more time before unfolding himself from the backseat. He returns with Nyquil, a bottle of water, and a portable pouch of applesauce. Jack cringes when Sam hands him the cap full of thick blue syrup.

"Three, two, one," Sam counts down for him, and Jack pinches his nose and tilts the cap back to swallow the medicine. Sam motions for him to do it again to get the sip he missed at the bottom, then lifts the corner of his flannel so Jack can wipe the lingering syrup from his lips.

Jack gulps down half the applesauce pouch to rid his mouth of the medicine taste before pushing it toward Sam. Sam twists to poke his head out the door to ask Dean if he wants the rest, who grabs it immediately. Probably not the best idea if they want to avoid the rest of them getting sick, but Sam doesn't think Dean's eaten since lunch yesterday.

Dean tosses the empty pouch into the trash can next to the gas pump, double-checks that the gas cap is on, and slides into the driver's seat. "You gonna ride back there with him?"

Sam nods and reassures Jack he'll feel better in twenty minutes or so when the medicine kicks in. Jack shuffles closer until he's pressed against Sam's side and leans his head against Sam's shoulder. Sam wraps an arm around him, pressing a kiss into his hair.

With his free hand Sam texts Cas an update on their ETA and that Jack's not feeling well. Cas replies with a thumbs up emoji, a crying face emoji, and a yellow heart emoji seconds later. Sam sends back a purple heart.

Before they get far down the road, Jack resituates himself with his head in Sam's lap so he can stretch out across the back seat again. He drifts off to sleep easily this time. Sam tucks the blanket more tightly around Jack's shoulders and cards his fingers through Jack's hair the rest of the way home.

#sam winchester and jack kline #sam and jack #dad sam winchester #spn fic #shippers do not tag please and thank u #dean is kind of a dick but only out of worry #sastiel if u squint

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t-o-m-hollands · 4 years ago

Text

Summery: Tom gets sick, you try to help. There’s also a pub quiz, some bed sharing, a broken AC and a hot barista.

Themes: Bartender!Tom, singer!reader. Sort of frienemies to lovers, slow burn, mutual attraction but they are both too dumb to realise. General dumbness all around. Idiots in love. Lots of banter.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Drinking and swearing. Smut in future chapters, just general hornyness and pining in this one. Some jealousy, but it’s all harmless.

R E A D P A R T O N E H E R E

When Tom wakes that morning, he swears on all that is holy that he is dying. Every muscle in his body aches and the inside of his throat feels like it’s covered in nettles. Moving hurts, couching hurts, and damn it, fucking breathing hurts. He makes it as far as the kitchen before he collapses on the floor. Indignantly, he admits himself defeated. And so, he crawls back into bed and calls Harrison.

“Yeah?” He hears his best friend yawn on the other end of the line, evidently still half asleep.

“Haz” Tom croaks.

“You alright mate?” Haz asks, and Tom can hear the ruffling of bed-sheets in the background.

“Think I have a cold”

“You sound like a dying seagull.”

Tom snorts, but then winces. Snorting hurts as well. “Yeah, well, feel like one too. So, what we gonna do?”

“What do you mean, what we gonna do?”

“About today, I can’t come in, but maybe one of you can come over with the paper work and I’ll do th-“

“Oh, fuck off Tom!” Haz manages to sound both aggravated and amused as he scolds his old friend. “We can do without you for a few days, yeah? Just fucking rest up for once, will you?”

Tom wants to thank him, wants to say he appreciates his friend looking after him but speaking really does hurt and it’s too early for sentimentalities, so he settles for an ‘yeah, yeah’ and a ‘fuck off’ instead. Harrison just laughs at him and they hang up.

It takes him less than one minute to fall asleep again.

He waves with his arms and legs around him, wildly disorientated, but his limbs seem to have tangled up in the sheets and before he knows it, he rolls out of the bed, and lands face-down on the hard floor. Tessa barks at the door and Tom concludes that this must have been the noise that woke him. He untangles himself from the sheets and stands up, before quickly sitting down again. The world around him spinning in a nauseating way. Slowly he makes his way across the bedroom and through the living room.

Holding Tessa back, he opens the door, but when the dog sees who it is she tears herself free to great you.

“Hi Tess” you say, in a voice so sweet it makes Tom want to whimper. You scratch Tessa behind her ears and she licks your cheek in a thank you. Laughing, you stand up to great him, less sweetly.

“Sicko”

Tom huffs, “be nice to me, everything hurts” he says and honestly, he meant it to come out a lot manlier and a lot less pouty.

“Poor baby” you coo mockingly, and he huffs again.

“What do you want?”

“I’m here to be your fairy godmother, but, you know, wearing a miniskirt”.

Automatically he looks down at what you’re wearing. “No, you’re not” he says, and he can’t quite keep the disappointment out of his voice. “You are wearing sweats”. Marine blue sweats in fact, that look unusually loose on you and very much familiar to him. “Actually, you’re wearing my sweats!”

And what a sigh for sore eyes you are in them.

You smile at him, mischievously. “Borrowed them from you when you let me stay over”.

“Is it technically borrowing if you never ask for them and then never return them? Is that not just theft?”

“Is it technically a good idea to accuse me of stealing when I’m here to play hot nurse?”

And Tom wants to answer something witty back, but he’s too tired and the room is starting to fade at the edges. He hears you swear and then your arms are around him, and he leans against you as you lead the way back to his bed. Helping him lay down on it you pick up the sheets from the floor and you lay them on top of him, tucking him in. You lean in to pull a lock of his hair back, feeling his warm forehead. Your skin feels cool and soft against his burning skin, so he reaches up his hand and wraps it around your wrist, keeping your hand in place.

“Have you taken anything?” you ask, and your voice is softer now, less teasing. He shakes his head, too tired to even keep his eyes open. “Alright” you say. “Well, I’ll go get you some Ibuprofen and water and then you can rest.” Tom hums in content.

“Honey?” you add, and he hums again. “Sweetheart, you need to let go of my hand or I can’t leave”.

He wants to say that that is precisely the point, but his fever really isn’t high enough for those kinds of confessions. Instead he lets go of your wrist and listens to you walk away. Some minutes later your back, helping him into a sitting position and when he sticks out his tongue you place the white pill on it and he swallows it down with the water you serve him.

You place the glass on his bedside table but when you try to stand up to leave Tom’s arm tighten around your waist. “No” he whines, sounding very much like a disgruntled child. He leans against your shoulder, his body warm and his hair soft against your cheek. He sighs happily. Your heart flutters in your chest and you have to remind yourself that this is just because he is sick. He’d be just this clingy if it was Harry or Sam coming to check up on him. You place the back of your hand against his warm and clammy forehead again and he sighs in relief.

“Tommy, I have to walk Tessa”.

He groans, and you can’t help but smile. Your heart keeps on fluttering in your chest. With a gentle but firm hand you remove his arm and he whines as you help him lay down again. You stroke away stray another stray curl from his clammy forehead. “Be right back” you say, and almost unable to stop yourself you press a kiss on the top of his head.

A very grateful Tessa happily struts alongside you through the park, tail wagging and nose sniffing after squirrels. The early morning air is crisp and cold and you’re grateful for the stolen borrowed hoodie you’re wearing. When you come back to the apartment you feed Tessa before heading back into Tom’s bedroom. At first glance he looks to be asleep and you turn to leave him alone, maybe even to head to the bar for a few hours and then come back later to check on him. But his voice stops you in your track.

“Stay” he says, and his voice breaks. He pats the spot next to him in bed. “Please?”

And it’s the whiny way he says that last word that does you in. So, you climb into bed and you lay next to him. He’s looking at you now, warm and sleepy brown eyes gazing into yours and your heart stutters in your chest. This is unfamiliar territory. Soft and tender and strangely intimate and so far removed from your normal sarcastic banter. He sighs happily and snuggles up closer to you. Taking in a deep breath. “You always smell so nice” he says, voice raspy but content. Your heart keeps on fluttering in your chest and you remind yourself that he only says these things because he is sick. These are not his real feelings. This is the fever speaking. “And you can keep my hoodie, it looks better on you, I like on you”.

“Go to sleep, Tommy”.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He sounds so unsure, so unlike himself and something uncomfortable tugs in your chest.

“Yeah, I’ll still be here” you say and you kiss his forehead again.

He sighs one last time, seemingly relieved. “Okay then”. And he drifts off to sleep

Three days pass and you nurse him and you take care of Tessa. Every now and then Sam, Harry or Harrison calls to leave an update on the pub, reassuring Tom that nothing has in fact burned down. Yet.

You call Sam occasionally, as you try to cook for you and Tom and with the patience of a saint he guides you along and he even manages to not make any sarcastic comments when he finds your cooking skills especially lacking.

“But, it’s toasts” he says after an alarmingly long silence.

“Yes, well, I grew up on a tour bus and in hotel rooms, the only thing I know how to make is instant coffee and watery tea.

“But it’s toasts” he repeats, still stunned.

“Yes Sammy, darling, I know.”

He sighs “well, you know the toaster?” And you’re impressed that he manages to keep sarcasm out of his voice as he asks, a feat Tom never would have managed.

“Yes, the toaster. The thing you shouldn’t throw into a bathtub if someone’s having a bath. Excellent murder weapon. You telling me it makes breakfast too?” You’re only joking of course. Sort of.

Stunned silence again and then,

“Yeah, that’s the one”.

Later when Tom thinks back on those three days he remembers soft hands stroking away hair from his forehead, a soft chest where he rests his head, an arm slung around his waist slowly stroking patterns on his back. He remembers the scent of you, familiar and lovely. He thinks back, and he thinks of comfort. He thinks back, and he remembers the feeling of deep content and

Love.

So, the following few days he tries to put some distance between you two. Tries to stay away until he can remember how it feels to not love you. But he wonders if that’s ever been the case. He can’t think of a single moment when he hasn’t at least wanted you.

So, he keeps in the back, does the paper work and lets Harry handle the bar, fuck, he does any job, even the inventory, just to keep out of the main room. It changes nothing, if anything it just makes the longing in his chest grow.

But a few days later, he finds he needs a new tactic.

The phone wakes him that morning and it’s Harrison, with a voice so hoarse it sounds like it’s been mangled. He’s sick. Tom tells him to take it easy and rest up. Not even five minutes later Harry calls, sounding just the same. When he tells Tom that Sam too isn’t feeling well Tom wants to scream. But he doesn’t, because it’s up to him to keep it together. So, he tells Harry to rest up and that Sam should do the same and then he hangs up.

All the way to the pub he thinks things over, desperately trying to come up with a plan. When he arrives, he finds you on the doorstep, soaking up some early sunshine, looking happy and content with life. When you see his face however worry settles over your features.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sam, Harry and Harrison are all sick” he grunts, locking up and letting you inside first.

“Oh” you say, and your frown deepens. “Can you keep it open on your own?”

Tom sighs, pulling a hand through his hair. “Maybe? Not the kitchen though, and that’s where we make most of the money”.

“What if I cooked?”

Tommy snorts, feeling genuine amusement for the first time that day. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Sam told me about the toaster. Seriously Pop princess?”

You glare at him. But then lightning strikes you. “One second, I might have the solution, I need just make a call” and you head out on the street again.

A few minutes later you’re back, with a big grin on your face. “Okay, so I called my old tour chef, he lives here in London, and he can come in and help out for the day. So, he keeps the kitchen open and you handle the bar and I act waitress, sounds good?”

Tom just stares at you in disbelief for a second before answering. “Yeah, sounds grand. You goddamn miracle worker. Just one thing, have you ever been a waitress?”

“No, of course i haven’t” You snort. “I’ve never had a job in my life. I’ll figure it out though”.

And so, the next few days goes. Tuwaine is an excellent chef and he and Tom get along like a house on fire from the start. Tom handles the bar with his usual expertise and you drown ungodly amounts of coffee to keep up with the orders.

“How many have you had?” Tom asks, alarm in his voice, late on the evening on the third night as the orders to the kitchen starts to drizzle out.

“Three” you answer, your foot tapping the floor as you stand behind the bar next to Tom.

“That can’t be true” Tom says accusingly. “I’ve seen you drown at least four cups since this morning”.

“Three litres”.

Tom stares at you, genuine horror on his face. “Jesus Christ” he mutters under his breath. “How are you even alive?”

“Would you rather I drink vodka?”

Seemingly dumbstruck he just stares at you for several seconds before answering. “Those are not the only two options? Have some goddamn water for a change, yeah?”

“You know, you were a lot more agreeable when you were sick” you pout.

“Where do you even get the coffee? I know for a fact that you can’t make it”.

“Jake’s” you answer with a smile.

Tom snorts, trying to hide his annoyance. Jake’s Coffeehouse is the very cool, very hipster coffee place just next door. Jake himself looks like a hipster yoga instructor with his bulging muscles and his manbun and perfectly groomed beard. He can also talk to literally anyone about various coffee beans for longer than should quite frankly be legal.

“So that’s why you drink so much coffee, it’s to meet Jake”.

You roll your eyes at him. “No, it’s because the coffee’s good. Peruvian coffee bea-“

But you’re interrupted (and Tom thanks his lucky star because he’s about as interested in going into a conversation with you about coffee beans as you are to enter a chat about golf) by a customer at the bar, ordering a whiskey.

“Sure thing” you tell the man with a smile and bend down to pick up a bottle from under the bar. Tom tries not to look, honestly, he does, but you bend over right in front of him and he would have to be super human not to.

He’s certain that the perfect form of your ass hugged tightly by your black waitress skirt as you lean over will be imprinted on his mind for the rest of his miserable life.

He shifts uncomfortably and looks away.

“I want you to un-ban me from quiz night”

“No.”

“Please”

“There’s literally no way.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

“Nope, haven’t the faintest, not a single clue”.

“Oh, really? Really? You’ve forgotten that you got so upset over someone not knowing who A.A Milne was that you shouted ‘you joyless, fucking clown’ at him, and he, looking like an extra out of fucking Prison Break didn’t take too kindly to that and when he threatened you, you challenged him by saying, and I quote ‘fucking fight me then, you illiterate prick’ even though -”

“I have no memory of this what so ever.”

“- Even though, and I think you will agree with me on this one, you have the fighting ability of the average bumblebee with a damaged wing – “

“You must have confused me with another gal, mate”.

“- And then, and this is the most unbelievable part, you walked over to him, like you were actually going to fight him, and you challenged him in a fucking gun duel.“

“You sure you weren’t dreaming this?”

“I think the exact words you used were ‘you and me, pistols at dawn, babe’.”

You blink up at him.

"You don’t remember that, do you?” he asks, half teasing, half annoyed.

“I remember you very gallantly saving me from myself and carrying me off before I could cause myself or him any serious damage and then banning that bloke from your pub, yes. But, I admit to no wrongdoing whatsoever and I’d like to be un-banned from quiz night.”

“Do you remember 'that bloke’ breaking one of my tables in protest?”

“Well, what’s a pub without a brawl every once in a while, besides, I did pay you back for that”.

“No way are you allowed to come”.

“Please?”

“Never gonna happen”.

“Oh, you know I’ll just pester Harrison until he lets me in otherwise!”

“Not a chance.”

“Please, Tommy” You beg in a soft voice “I’ll sing you a song? I’ll sing it just for you.”

It’s quiz night and Tom has a headache before it even begins.

You are, however, overjoyed. Having joined Harry, Paddy and his mother’s team, with a pint in your hand, you’re all ready to go. Tom and Harrison are over at the bar, serving drinks to enthusiastic guests queuing up. Tom’s father is getting ready to host the quiz, reading through his questions, excitement in his steps as he strives backwards and forwards behind the bar, getting in his sons' way. The pub is packed and a buzz of excitement fills the air.

“Relax” Harrison tells him. “She’ll be fine, she’d never cause a scene in front of Paddy, you know”.

“Yeah, I know” Tom mutters and pour a pint for the man next in line. “It’s just, well it’s just hard not to worry about her.”

Harrison rolls his eyes but somehow finds it within him not to take the mickey out of his friend.

“What is the capitol of Iceland?”

All around them the various teams put their heads together to discuss the answer.

“Easy” Paddy announces.

“Yeah? What is it then?” his older brother asks.

“Reykjavík” Paddy answers, proudly.

“Sure” says Harry, “but how on earth do you spell that?”

Paddy looks taken aback at that and his mother laughs before spelling it out for them. You smile at them all, and take a sip from your pint. It's nice, being around a family, hearing everyday chit chat and bickering. So normal for them and so unusual for you. Your phone vibrates in your pocket for the 30th time that night and you know it’s your manager, pestering you with questions about the upcoming, so far non existing, new album. You ignore it.

“Alright, and the next question, which year did the first episode of EastEnders air?”

“1985” you answer immediately and Harry stares at you in disbelief.

“How on earth do you know that, and for the love of god, why?”

You just shrug and down the rest of your pint. Harry shakes his head in disapproval but jots down the answer.

“And the next question is, and ladies and gentlemen this one is a bit obscure” Dom smiles before continuing. “Henry VIII introduced which tax in England in 1535?”

“A beard tax” you answer immediately.

Harry stares at you in disbelief again. “Why do you know that?”

“Look” you say, looking him dead in the eye. “The more absolutely useless and random facts I can memorise and use up storage for in my brain, the less I’ll be able to remember about my own life”.

“Sometimes” Harry starts, pointing his pen at you. “Sometimes I feel like every five minutes I spend talking to you I need to add fifteen minutes of therapy”.

You stick your tongue out at him and Paddy laughs. Over at the bar Tom observes your table, a fond smile on his face as he pours another pint for a costumer.

“Hi, do you have any Pabst Blue Ribbon?”

Tom looks up at the next person in line to the bar. It’s fucking coffee-Jake.

“Sure” he answers and hands him a can.

“Thanks, mate” Jake answers with a smile. Then he sees you and waves at you with an even bigger grin on his face. You wave back, happily smiling.

“Prick” Tom mutters under his breath, following Jake with a murderous glare as the hipster makes his way across the room, squeezing himself in the booth beside you.

Harrison rolls his eyes again.

“See” you tell him as you help clean up after the quiz. Harrison and Harry have just shown the last pub guests out and are now helping Sam with the washing up in the kitchen. Tom’s parents left with Paddy moments before. “I didn’t get into a single argument!” You say proudly as you stack the chairs up on the tables. “And!” you add excitingly “I even remembered to say mother duckling instead of mother fucker!”

Without looking at him you can tell he’s rolling his eyes at you. “I mean, no one else started a fight either, but sure, congratulations”. Tom answers and you hear the amusement in his voice.

“Ha! I just meant to point out that you were overreacting in the way you tried to ban me in the first place”.

“Sure, sure” he says and helps you with the last chair. You try very hard not to stare at his bulging biceps as he lifts it almost effortlessly up on the table. You fail. He’s standing so close to you, and all you want to do is reach out and touch him.

”Want me to walk you home?”

“Sure” you answer, looking away.

He goes to the kitchen and you can hear him telling the others that it’s their turn to close the pub and that he’s leaving. You hear a ‘fuck off then’ from Harry. Tom comes back, and he helps you with your coat and then you walk out into the night.

There are no paparazzi out tonight, but the streets are not empty. Some 20 meter in front of you a gang of youth are occupying the stairs to a building. They’re smoking and sharing a bottle of liquor. They seem harmless enough but Tom wraps an arm protectively around your shoulders as you pass. He leaves it there for the rest of the walk and when you get to your door you kiss his cheek and thank him and you want to invite him inside, but before you get the chance to say the words he’s hurried back out into the night.

***

“Oh, come on! You must have a pickup line, everyone has!”

Tom shakes his head in disbelief and amusement. “Really, pop star? Everyone? What’s yours then?”

He’s refilling the bar and making sure everything is stocked for the day. Sweat is gleaming on his forehead as he carries in a heavy box filled with bottles of Irish whiskey. He had come in that morning and found the air-condition to be out of order, and today was predicted to be the hottest day this summer.

You’re sitting on your regular bar-stool in a vintage summer dress, looking like you belong on the cover of Vogue, sipping on an ice-cold milk-shake. He thinks you’ve never seemed more out of his league.

“You don’t want to know, believe me” you reply him, a teasing smile on your painted red lips.

He looks up at you then, interest written all over his face. “Oh, come on now, unburden your heart, what’s your chat-up line?”

You meet his curious eyes and smile around the straw as you drink some strawberry milk-shake before you answer. “It’s really bad” you warn him.

“Alright, so I’m not to expect Shakespeare then. Well, what is it?” He watches as you hollow your cheeks and suck in more milkshake. He wipes his forehead with a rag.

God it’s hot in here.

From your handbag you pick up a cherry Chapstick and put it on your lips. You smack them together and giggle. “Oh! My lips taste just like cherries!” you exclaim. Then you look him straight in the eyes and in a low voice you add. “Want a taste?”

Toms eyes fall on your red lips and he can’t seem to be able to look away. Not until you laugh, a light and airy and joyous laugh. Then he snaps out of it. “Still got it” you tease and wink at him playfully. Then your cherry red lips wrap around the straw and you suck, all the while looking at him, eyes sparkling.

Tom makes a mental note to stay well hidden behind the bar for a while.

“Fucking hell!” Harry exclaims as he and Sam enters the pub. “Christ Tom, mind turning the AC on?”

You see Tom rolling his eyes and you can’t help but giggle.

“Nah, personally I like working in a sauna”

Harry takes a look at you and smiles at Tom. “Oh, I see, it’s the old classic trick, innit? You’ve turned up the heat so she’ll take off her clothes, honestly Tom that’s so-” But he doesn’t get to finish the sentence, for Tom has picked up a dirty rag and thrown it at his little brother, and with perfect aim it hits him square in the face. “Show I bit of respect, won’t you?”

But you’re not offended. You know he’s just joking. But Tom chews his brother out and then orders him to call maintenance to have a look at the AC. Harry looks completely unfaced by the telling off, but the fact that you’re smiling at him behind Tom’s back so that he knows you are not upset probably has a lot to do with it. He walks off to do as he’s told. When he walks pass you you hear him mutter “such an overprotective arse” under his breath.

***

THIS IS NOT REALLY THE BEST, BELIEVE ME, I’M AWARE. FEEDBACK Is VERY MUCH APPRECIATED

#tom holland #tom holland headcanon #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x oc #tom holland x fem #tom holland x you #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years ago

Note

Summertime- 10. Someone gets sunburn (the reader) and needs a little tlc. (Rami or Merriell)

I don’t know why, but I’ve just been dying to write a sunburn story! Thanks for requesting this one 🧡

You squealed with laughter as the wave crashed into your shoulders, the ocean water splattering up your neck and soaking your hair.

You looked over at Merriell, who had just emerged after diving underneath the wave. He gave his head a toss, droplets of water flinging away from his curls. He smoothed back his hair and looked at you with wide, happy eyes.

“Toldja ya hair was gonna get wet,” he smirked.

“I tried!” you insisted, grinning as you swam to him and placed a salty kiss on his lips.

“Here comes anotha one—come on!”

Mer grabbed your hand and ducked into the wave again. This time you followed his lead, giving up on maintaining what you thought was a cute beach-do.

You let go of his hand to wipe your eyes and grinned as you pulled out your scrunchie and ducked into the water again so you could slick your hair back.

“I’m not cute anymore,” you pouted as you emerged.

Merriell laughed and said, “Nonsense, darlin. Though ya are turnin’ a lil red. Sure ya put sunscreen on?”

“Positive!”

“Maybe we should go back unda the umbrella fo—”

“No! This is fun! I promise I’m not getting burnt.”

Merriell shrugged his dark shoulders and turned his attention back to the water to watch for the next wave. You played together, laughing and splashing, enjoying the refreshing coolness of the ocean in contrast with the blaring heat of the sun.

When the water calmed again, Merriell asked if you were ready to head back to the hotel to get ready for dinner.

As you toweled off, his eyes traveled over your torso but not in their usual licentious manner.

“What?” you asked as you scrunched the towel over the ends of your hair.

Merriell took a deep breath.

“Ya look red.”

“Nah—I’m fine,” you dismissed with a smile as you shoved your towel into your beach bag.

* * * 3 Hours Later * * *

“I’m dying, Mer,” you whined as you sat on the bed, your torso stiff and radiating heat underneath your short-sleeved polo dress.

“‘M so sorry, darlin.”

“I SWEAR I put sunscreen on this morning,” you said more to yourself than to your boyfriend as you wracked your brain to figure out how you got so badly burned.

“Didja reapply after we swam ‘round lunchtime?” he asked as he stood in front of you, looking handsome in his dark blue shorts and palm-tree-shaped polka-dot button up.

Your eyes squeezed shut tight as you fought off tears of stupidity.

“No—I didn’t even think about it.”

“Salt water’ll scrub ya raw. Damn bottles say “waterproof” but they ain’t really,” Mer muttered angrily as he went into the bathroom and dug through your bag for the aloe you had packed—just in case.

By the time he returned to stand in front of you, two fat tears had rolled down your cheeks. Merriell placed the aloe on the nightstand and bent at the waist so he would be eye level with you. He reached out and lifted your chin, but you still didn’t look up at him.

“Stop dat. Ya know I’ma take care a you.”

You gave an undignified sniff and still refused to meet his eyes.

“Darlin’ look at me.”

“I’ll cry if I do.”

Merriell chuckled softly and leaned in to kiss your forehead, his normally warm lips feeling almost cool against your burnt face.

“Why ya gonna cry? Hurt dat bad?”

You were quiet for a moment as Merriell straightened and looked down at you.

With a sigh, you answered, “I’m ruining our last day of vacation. I won’t be able to do anything like this!”

Half of Mer’s mouth formed a grin as he dropped down to his knees, forcing you to look at him. When you met his empathetic green eyes, your lip trembled, as you knew it would, but he placed a gentle hand on the side of your face, his thumb ghosting over your lips.

“And what’ll be so bad ‘bout layin’ in bed, watchin’ a lil TV while we on our vacation?”

You gave Merriell a tiny smile and slightly shook your head in awe of his sweet nature.

“Nothin’ I guess.”

“Absolutely nothin’, darlin. I can go anywhere ya like for anythin’ ya wanna eat. I’ll put dis goop on ya anytime ya need it. I’ll make sure ya drink lots of wata. I love takin’ care a you because ya always take such good care a me.”

Your lip trembled again, but this time it was for an entirely different feeling: happiness.

“I love you, Merriell Shelton.”

“I love ya more, baby. Now let’s get dat dress off.”

“For absolutely no fun reason,” you grumbled.

Mer laughed, and said, “Ya won’t be sunburned foreva. Now, up ya go.”

He pulled you up by your hands and you hissed at the way your dress moved against your skin. Slowly, Merriell worked your dress off and over your head, whistling when he finally took in the state of your skin.

“Don’t move.”

He returned from the bathroom with a few ibuprofen and bent to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

You swallowed your pills, then Merriell played an on-the-spot game of Operation™️ making sure not to slide the straps of your bra against your skin as he removed it. Your back definitely got it worse than your front, so he instructed you to lie face down.

You made a noise as Mer opened the aloe and poured some into his hand.

“I know—but it’s gonna feel so much betta once ya get past the cold.”

Bracing for contact, you clutched at the sheets as Merriell dribbled a little aloe onto your shoulder.

“Ai-yi-yi!” you called out.

He giggled and said, “Don’t think I’ve eva heard ya yell dat before.”

You groaned in response, and Merriell began to gently rub the aloe over your shoulder. His touch was feather-light, and he took it slow, cooling one section of your back at a time until it finally felt like the fire that had become your skin had been squelched.

Mer lightly petted your lower back where the sun hadn’t reached while you were in the water as he waited for the aloe to dry.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your eyes closed as you concentrated on his soothing touch.

“Of course. Ready for the front?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you answered, slowly rolling over and propping your head up with extra pillows so your upper back wasn’t directly on the bed.

He started with your arms, then moved to your chest, slowly dribbling out the aloe so it wasn’t a shock to your aching skin. Like your lower back, your belly had escaped the wrath of the sun, so Mer gently trailed his fingers over your unburnt skin, occasionally reaching up to stroke your breasts, keeping the touch intimate rather than sexual.

By the time the aloe was dry, you were fast asleep.

Merriell got up, careful not to jostle the king-size bed, and went to the bathroom to wash off the sticky aloe. Your mouth was open and a soft snore was passing through the gap, making him smile as he looked you over, still in disbelief at just how red your skin had turned.

Fussing with the comforter, he finally got it out from under your legs without waking you. He pulled it over you making sure your arms were placed on top of the blanket and making sure not to let it touch your burnt chest.

“I’ll always take care a ya,” he murmured as he pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose.

#Merriell Shelton #Snafu Shelton #Merriell Shelton x Reader #Female Reader #Merriell Shelton fluff #rami malek #rami malek fluff #rami malek character #snafu

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buckysforeverprincess · 5 years ago

Text

Can Our Love Survive? Ch. 17

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers, Sarah Rogers

Words: 1720

Warning: None

A/N: Sorry for the late update, I didn’t realize today would be Mother’s Day when I made the update schedule. Anyway, Reader brings Bucky home, but just how will Steve and Sarah handle it? Enjoy!

Nat dropped the two of you off and you lead Bucky inside and into your room. The first thing he asked was if he could use the shower and you quickly agreed. He looked like he hadn't showered since the last time you saw him, and he smelled like funk and liquor.

After setting him up with a stuff for a shower, you left him alone and made your way to the kitchen. By the looks of him, he's gonna need some ibuprofen and water to help him sleep off that hangover, if the empty bottles around his house were anything to go on. Bucky needed lots of sleep and even more ibuprofen. Poor guy really was worse for wear.

Taking the items back to your room, you laid down on your bed and closed your eyes. What were you going to tell your mom and Steve? Would they understand and let Bucky stay? No one should be alone, especially for a holiday, but simply put, his father had abandoned him. Would your mother and brother see just how alone Bucky was and accept him into your home? Hope springs eternal and there’s no way you’d let your boyfriend spend another moment in that house, while his father did fuck all of nothing, neglecting his only son.

You're not sure how long you laid there lost in thought, but it was long enough for your boyfriend to finish his shower and come join you in your room.

“Hey.” Bucky's stands in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist. You sit up and look in his direction, your eyes gazing on his muscled chest and arms. “I would have got dressed, but I think my bag’s in here.” He points to his bag on the floor.

“I'll go-”

“Stay… please.” Bucky walks over and sits on the bed next to you. “I'm sorry…,” he places his hand on yours, “for everything.” You can see the pain and hurt in his eyes and it makes you want to cry.

“The only thing you did wrong was ghost me. Don't ever do that to me again.”

Bucky nods and moves his hand to your cheek, his thumb rubbing your skin softly. “I was an idiot. I fucked up and let my anger control me, and in the process, you had a panic attack. I hated myself for causing that, but I promise you... I'll never do that again. I love you and I don’t want to be the cause of any more of your pain.” Tears start to fall from his eyes, and you know he's being sincere.

“I love you, too.” You lean in and place a soft kiss on your boyfriends’ lips. Bucky quickly gets with the program and opens his mouth, deepening the kiss. You slip your tongue into his mouth, kissing him back with enthusiasm, letting your tongues playing with each other in a sloppy symphony, clearly having missed each other. Bucky must decide the positioning is all wrong, you can feel his hand move to your waist and with your help, you move from the bed and straddle his lap, your mouths still connected by your kiss.

With arms now wrapped around each other, the new position makes the kissing more heated, and you realize just how aroused you are. This is a totally new feeling for you. The way Bucky's kissing you, touching you, holding you. You've never felt like this before, and it’s a feeling you never want to lose or be without again. The arousal is intense, and you need more. You know Bucky is seriously turned on, his rock-hard cock grinds into you through the towel when he grinds himself into your covered core. The act leaves nothing to the imagination and you can feel a pool of moisture forming in your panties, and fuck, you were ready to give yourself over to him completely.

“Baby…,” Bucky breaks the kiss with a breathless gasp, both of your faces flushed, “…as much as I want this, and God knows I do, I don't think we should.” You frown but nod your head slowly in agreement, eyes lowered to the bed. “Hey…,” Bucky reaches out and raises your head to look you in the eyes. “I want this… but I want it when you're ready, and something tells me it’s not right now. I can wait.”

“Thank you.” Placing a quick kiss on his lips. Even though your body was definitely with the program and everything was saying yes, the truth was you probably weren’t ready. Your first time with Bucky was something you never wanted to regret. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, but I should get dressed and get some sleep while I can. Your mom may kick me out when she sees me so, I should get some rest while I still can.”

You kiss him quickly on the lips and remove yourself from his embrace, standing up and walking to the bedroom door. “If you need anything, I'll be in the house somewhere.”

Bucky nods and you shut the door and see Steve standing up against the wall waiting for you. He puts his lips up to his mouth in silence and motions for you to follow him to the living room.

“How much did you hear?” You ask, plopping yourself down on the loveseat. Steve sits next to you, turning his body so he can look dead at you.

“Enough,” he replies and sits in silence. “Look…,” he finally breaks the awkwardness, “I can't say I'm entirely happy about everything and how it's all transpired, but from what I just heard between the two of you, I respect him. It couldn't have been easy stopping himself, but he did. I think I just might be able to forgive him. For you.”

You smiled at your brother and suddenly enveloped him in a hug. “Thank you!”

Steve wraps his arms around you and pulls you tight. “You're welcome. I've missed this.”

“Me too,” your voice muffled by his shoulder, “we should do this more often.”

Steve chuckles, “I’d like that.” He breaks the hug and you resume looking at each other on the couch. “So… what's going on with Bucky?”

You inhale a deep breath and begin to explain everything that transpired, leaving nothing out, hoping to gain support from your twin. He sits there and listens without interruption and when you’re finally done, he shakes his head and frowns.

“Wow! That's pretty fucked up. What the hell kinda people do that shit to their kid?“

“I can't believe both his parents have pretty much abandoned him. I mean, can you imagine if mom did that to us?”

Steve shook his head. “Mom would never do that to us. Sarah Rogers is one badass woman. She has to be… she's raised us.”

As if on cue, your mother walks in, holding two pizzas in hand. “What's this about me being a badass woman?”

“Nothing mom, just saying you had to raise us, so you're pretty badass.” Steve says, taking the pizzas from your mom and heading to the kitchen.

“Don't ever forget it!” Sarah calls out, following behind him.

You make your way to the kitchen, the three of you sit down and prepare to dig in. “Um...mom?” You need to talk to her about Bucky and now seems like the best time.

“Hmmm…,” she grabs at the pizza never looking up at you.

“I-uh… I need to talk to you about Bucky.” She stops mid movement and gives you a look of concern. “I’m fine! I promise, he didn't hurt me!” Sarah exhales and relaxes, putting the pizza down on her plate and you take that as a sign to continue. “He's here… in my room. Sleeping.” Sarah’s still silent waiting for the explanation and you end up recanting the story for the second time this evening. And just like Steve, she listens without interruption, waiting you to finish your heartbreaking story.

“He just can't stay there, mom! It's like no one cares about him!” Your voice is raised from all the emotion your carrying inside.

“But you do?” She questions, her face neutral, not giving anything away.

“I do… he shouldn't be alone, especially for the holiday. Not with his history.”

Sarah turns and looks at Steve, who's being uncharacteristically non-verbal. “What do you think about all this?” She asks him.

Steve shrugs. “Well, Y/N’s right. He shouldn't be alone. Neither of his parents seem to care about him. I mean, he started drinking young and I'm sure his mom knew but didn't act, and when he became a problem, instead of helping him she just let him go. A mother should never turn their back on their children, and don’t let me get started on his dad. I think for his sake and Y/N’s he should just stay.”

You mouth a silent ‘thank you’ and he gives a slight nod. Sarah looks at the two of you and shakes her head. “Ugh! Ok. Rules. He’s to sleep on the couch and he goes to school every day. Bucky will keep his grades up and NO DRINKING! Got it?! Oh and no fighting! Absolutely no repeats of the kitchen incident!”

“I can do that.” You all turn to see Bucky standing there in the entrance to the kitchen. “I'm sorry to intrude, but I woke up and was hungry?”

Steve laughs and pulls out the empty chair next to him. “Dude, don't you know if you're hungry?”

Bucky smiles back at him. “Yeah I am. Starving actually.” He makes his way over and sits in the chair. You give him your plate and he grabs some pizza, shoving a few slices on the plate.

“Bucky,” Sarah speaks, breaking the silence that had had taken over the kitchen, “I'm very sorry about what's happened to you. I'm willing to let you stay for as long as you need, but you must follow my rules, and absolutely NOT hurt my daughter. Think you can handle that?”

“Yes ma'am. I can abide by your rules… I never want to hurt your daughter. I love her too much to ever hurt her.”

Sarah smiles and places a warm hand on his arm, showing him her motherly comfort. “Then, you can stay.”

COLS Tags:

@ellallheart @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @bookgirlunicorn @widowsmaximoff @jhangelface0523 @broco8 @eliza5616 @nighttwingg @bloodyproudpotterhead @sexyvixen7 @marvelismysafezone @orions-stars3 @ava1453 @beardburnsupersoldiers @afterlaughter27 @booboobella01

Forever Tags:

@jamesbarnesappreciationclub @kruscht @palaiasaurus64 @breezy1415 @sarahp879 @supernaturaldean67 @averyrogers83 @scarlettsoldier @lovely-geek @titty-teetee @geeksareunique @peaceinourtime82 @leosandbuckysgirl @the-goddess-of-mischief @mychemicalimagines @awkwardfangirl2014 @collette04 @notyourtypicalrose @onebatch--twobatch @miraclesoflove @kcd15 @xxloki81xx @death-unbecomes-you @thatfanficstuff @hotoffthepressfics @chuuulip @unlikelygalaxygiver @lancetuckershairgel @babypink224221 @mybabe-buckybarnes @shield-agent78 @the-real-kellymonster

#bucky #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x sister reader #sarah rogers #can our love survive #au #high school au

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kiwi-bitchez · 5 years ago

Text

Permafrost

Chapter 5: Humid

Read Chapters 1,2,3,4 all are also on my Ao3

Summary: You and Peter finally decide to clear the air.

Warning: Smut, basically a chapter of pwp, some light choking and spanking but honestly nothing too rough

A/N: not sure if I’m gonna continue this, please let me know if anyone reading is still interested in hearing more, or if I should start something else... Also! Please leave me asks! I will respond to blurb/oneshot ideas! Send me your horny shit!!!

You struggle to open your eyes through crusted shut eyelids, head pounding and mouth tasting bitterly of the night before. You peel your body from the leather couch, skin indented with the seams that had pressed against your face. You rub your eyes and look around, not seeing Peter anywhere. This was probably for the best.

You assume that you had fallen asleep at some point last night and he was too nice to wake you up. Laying back down, you bury yourself into your t-shirt and find that it smells like him. You let yourself wonder for a second if he had fallen asleep on the couch too, spending the night pressed against you, face in your hair. No, you wouldn’t let yourself fabricate happy memories of something that probably didn’t happen, he was most likely upstairs, not even remembering the night before.

You rub the sleep from your eyes and roll your shoulders back, spine and shoulders cracking. It must be well into the morning, as you can hear heavy footsteps shuffling all around the floor above you. Sneaking up the stairs you hope that no one notices you emerging from the bottom floor, where your room wasn’t.

“Hey y/n, I’m making pancakes!” Peter hollers to you from down the hall, “if you need some substance to absorb all that hangover.”

Fuck, come on Peter, no one was supposed to know that you two had snuck into the bar. Cover blown. Whatever, pancakes sounded both amazing and nauseating and you didn’t have the mental capacity to be annoyed with him.

You drag your feet into the living room, smelling syrup from the kitchen. There were some other bodies scattered around, but you didn’t bother to crane your neck around to see who was who. Slumping yourself at one of the bar stools you lay your head on the cold linoleum, which felt surprisingly nice on your hot cheek.

A hand comes down to place three white pills in front of your closed eyes, pushing them towards your face.

“Ibuprofen. You look like you need it,” Bucky chuckles to himself, also pushing a hot cup of coffee across the bar. You give him a slightly confused look, but then take the pills and coffee with no questions.

“Oh, you kids thought we didn’t know about the secret bar?” Sam says, poking fun at you, “took you two long enough to find it.”

You can only grumble into your arms and take a long sip from the steaming cup, shooting a look over to him that said: “I’m not dealing with this right now.” Peter, seemingly unaffected by the half bottle he had downed last night, hands you a plate and sits a few seats down from you.

The pancakes settled strangely in your stomach, but it felt good to fill yourself with something other than regret and liquor. The coffee and ibuprofen certainly helped too. What wasn’t helping was the sharp memory of kissing Peter and the awkward air that now settled around the two of you.

“You’re welcome,” Peter says sarcastically from down the table, “finally decided you’re gonna be mean to me?”

The comment would have just seemed like your typical banter to anyone listening, but you both knew exactly what he meant. Your promise from the previous night, that you would stop being friends after the kiss.

You put a piece of pancake on your fork and catapult it over towards him, launching it at his head. He quickly turns and catches it in his mouth, making it look effortless.

“You’re gonna have to try much harder than that y/n.”

You down the rest of your coffee and clear your dishes, wanting to escape this room full of noise. You squeeze Peter’s shoulder on your way out, silently thanking him for making you breakfast. Was that the right thing to do? Were you actually supposed to ignore him for the rest of the trip? What from last night was just drunken stupidity? and what had actually held some truth to it?

“Trouble in paradise?” Bucky quips at Peter, noticing the tension between you, “things not going well with the new girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend and she’s here for work,” Peter grumbles, not bothering to make eye contact.

“Yeah, okay,” Bucky and Sam both scoff.

You tuck yourself into your small bed, letting yourself curl up in the blankets as much as physically possible. You put every ounce of mental energy into repressing the night before, not wanting to remember how nice it felt to dance around and be goofy with Peter, how nice it felt to be held by him.

You hear the door creak open, so you bury your face deeper into your pillow, hoping he would just think you were asleep. He sits back onto his bed, staying silent for a minute or two.

“Hey, you asleep?” He asks, just above a whisper.

“No,” you say, a little louder so he will hear through the layers of blanket covering your head.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he was still speaking so quietly, “we can just forget the whole thing if you want.” You groan as you sit up, letting the cocoon of blankets fall around your waist.

“I’m the one who peer pressured you into drinking with me so don’t even start to apologize,” you respond, truly feeling responsible for whatever energy was now between you, “and I remember lifting the ban of not talking about things we should probably talk about, so no forgetting necessary.”

“If it’s a new rule for us to talk about the things we probably don’t want to, I want you to know that I don’t regret kissing you,” he says, voice weirdly steady, looking directly at you.

“Yeah, me either,” you were much less direct, pulling the blankets up over yourself to hide from him.

“And I think you made some fair points,” he continues on, voice wavering a little, “despite the drunkenness.”

“Hmm?” you ask completely nonverbally.

“About the kiss, I think you made a fair argument,” he was starting to sound a little nervous, “I think there is some tension between us and I think it could be cleared up if we did something about it.” He said this almost as if it were a question, voice getting higher as the statement progressed, not sure if he wanted to hear your reaction, “ya know, sexual tension.”

“Uh-huh??” You continue to respond with noises until he just tells you what he wants, giving him a skeptical look, even though you knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Obviously I respect you, like so freaking much, and I don’t want you to think I don’t understand that you are here for work, and why you don’t want to be with me,” he starts, his voice speeding up with increasing anxiety, “but if I could drop the act for just a minute, if I can stop pretending that I don’t like you, stop pretending that we are just pals or roommates or co-workers or whatever, I think it could help…you know.”

You raise your head from your protective blanket and give him an understanding look, but still not saying anything.

“I don’t really know where I’m going with this,” he continues to ramble, not wanting a moment of uncomfortable silence, “but I’m just saying that last night is not making it easy for me, and I want you to know that I wasn’t just drunk, I meant it when I told you I like you a lot. And I don’t know how you feel, but I wanted to tell you, and I’m sorry if this is ruining everything.”

You can’t help but smile at the way he talks with his hands, the way his voice gets when he is being so honest, the way he is looking at you. You knew that you needed to stop being so guarded, needed to stop responding to every genuine emotion with sarcasm and cynicism.

“I wouldn’t be against,” you speak slowly, trying to choose your words carefully, “trying to clear the air.”

You stare into his eyes, not wanting to know what he was seeing in your bloodshot ones. He gives you a small smile, hoping that you meant what he thought you did. You still stood by what you originally said, this wasn’t a vacation, but you couldn’t help that your attraction to him was starting to bubble over, incapable of staying bottled inside you.

“Just once. One time to get rid of the sexual tension, and then we can go back to just being pals or roommates or whatever. Just once to clear the air, and that’s it,” you rationalize, hoping that you were on the same page as him, that this is what he wanted too.

“Peter! Meeting in 10!” someone yells from down the hall, “Conference room!”

“I, uh- I’m gonna go,” he awkwardly shuffles across the room, things between you two still very much up in the air.

You crawl back into your cave of blankets, the safety of silence and sleep quickly washing over you. This wasn’t an easy thing for you to think about, so you let your hungover brain shut down, let your heart rest.

It could have been minutes or hours, but you were still alone in your small room when you finally woke up. Quickly chugging some water, you decide that a shower is your agenda. Wanting to wash off whatever it was that you were feeling. Were you confused? Desperate? Just horny? Completely unsure. A hot shower is always the answer.

Feeling marginally better after your nap, you force yourself up and into the bathroom, letting the steam cloud around you. Taking as long as the hot water would allow, you let your body relax fully as you ran the soapy loofah over your limbs again and again. You decided that you would just deal with things as they were presented to you.

You weren’t going to make any premeditated decisions, you were just going to let yourself decide what to do in the moment. Heart over head. It was unlike you, but your head couldn’t take anymore, and your heart was bursting with decisions to make.

You step out of the steamy bathroom into your cold bedroom, the sudden contrast making your skin crawl. Towel still wrapped loosely over your wet body, you hadn’t realized that Peter was in the room. Your head jerks up the moment you notice him, considering turning back around and retreating into the bathroom again.

“Hi,” he says, trying to look at your face and not your dripping wet body, feeling stupid that he couldn’t think of anything better to say.

“Hi,” you say back, deciding it was too late to scurry away. Time to face the wind, time to put your anxious brain in the back seat.

“You can break it,” he says to you, standing directly across the room from you, “the promise. I want you to break it.”

In a strange moment of confidence, the moment you let your heart decide without your brain, you drop your towel. Was the door even closed? Was this even what he had been alluding to? Head knows these kinds of things, but heart doesn’t. Heart was in control and did not give a single fuck.

The single second it took for Peter to register what you had done felt like an eternity to you, your head slipping into the driver’s seat for a millisecond, letting you worry. But before you could slam on the breaks and cover yourself up, play it off as an accident, he had you pinned against the wooden wall behind you, hands gripping your flesh, searing into your wet skin.

“Tell me,” his mouth impossibly close to yours, “tell me that you want this. I need you to give me permission, because I want you so bad, so fucking bad, and I need your permission.”

Although his sentiment was so polite, his voice had changed, it was deep, guttural, sexy. You wanted him to boss you around in that voice, tell you what to do, put you in your place. Your lips part to respond, an airy moan escaping as his grip tightens on you.

“Please, Peter, I need you so badly,” you let out the phrase that had been on a loop in your head since the moment you stepped foot onto the boat.

More confidence enters your voice as you fully get a grasp on the current situation, “You have permission,” you lick your lips, “I’m yours.”

“Only once,” he groans into your neck, “we can do this once and then everything will be fine.”

“And then things will just go right back to normal,” you say, holding back moans as his clothed body pressed into your completely naked one. You both knew by the way his hands roamed up from your hips up to your face, feeling up your body on the way, that things would never be normal between you.

One of his hands pressed into your cheek, angling your face perfectly with his, the other tensely sitting at the base of your neck, thumb gliding dangerously over the front of your throat. How do you tell him that you need him to fuck you senseless, that he has full permission to completely destroy you? Your head would think, but your heart can only act.

Arching your back into him, rolling your body against his, you finally allow your lips to meet. His tongue immediately slips between your lips, not wasting a second before tasting you. Taken aback by his aggression, you were a little surprised, but you liked it. You really liked it.

He was showing you how much he truly wanted you, hands holding you tightly, guiding your head into the heavy kiss. Without thinking you press your neck forward, pushing into the hand that steadily gripped at the dip of your shoulder.

He tentatively moves it up, not quite choking you, but placing it where your jaw starts, taking much more control over you.

“Fuck y/n,” he groans into your mouth, barely giving you a chance to breathe, “you have no fucking idea all the things I’ve thought about doing to you.”

“Show me,” you place a light kiss to the puffy surface of his lips, “I want you to show me everything.”

Without a second of hesitation he grabs the backs of your thighs and raises you upward, pressing your body against the wall, making your legs wrap tightly around his waist as he supports you from underneath.

Before you could question how he picked you up with such ease, how he could support your full body weight and still be massaging the backs of your thighs with his strong fingers, you found your mouth pressed openly to his once again. Your hands run through his hair, bunching up the curls that fall at the nape of his neck.

He drags his mouth from yours over to your jawline, running his tongue up, finding that perfect spot right between your jaw and your ear. He kisses your face gently first, but quickly starts sucking on your sweet spot, unable to hold himself back. You start to feel a pleasurable tightness swell in your lower stomach, lurching your hips forward to grind into Peter. Your legs still wrapped around his waist, pussy making contact with a stripe of his skin where his shirt had pushed up against his torso.

Grinding into him, you pull a little on his hair telling him you wanted more, you needed more. His hands slowly progress from your thighs to your ass, cupping your cheeks, giving them a hard squeeze. Kissing your open mouth again, he carefully starts walking towards the bed with you still tangled around him. He lays you down on the small bed, not aggressively but with some force, pressing your body deep into the mattress.

Finally detaching your fists from his hair, you hastily try to take his shirt off, wanting to feel his chest pressed up against yours. You push it up most of the way, and he stops kissing you for only a moment to pull it over his head, sitting up on his knees for a second to do so. He looks down at you, body open and ready for him, mouth open and missing the feeling of his tongue already.

Slowly he runs a finger up your slit, collecting your wetness. He draws a few light circles around your clit, causing you to buckle forward, wanting him to touch you more. He easily dips a finger inside, but then pulls it out completely, causing you to whine under your breath.

“Every day,” he brings his fingers up to his mouth, “for the past three months, I have thought about you like this. Under me, wet for me, waiting for me to make you come. Every single fucking day. I haven’t gotten off to anything other than thinking about you.” He sucks the wetness off his finger, causing your eyes to flutter back into your head.

He brings his fingers to your mouth and you open up and take two of them between your lips, running your tongue across the tough pads of his fingers. He certainly didn’t need any extra help to slip them inside of you, the flood between your legs was enough, but he loved seeing you like this, just as needy for him as he was for you.

Pulling his fingers out of your mouth he drags them down your body, stopping to rub your warm saliva across your nipples, giving one a pinch. Dipping his fingers back inside of you, curling them tightly upwards causes you to writhe underneath him. He hunches over you, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, rolling it slightly between his teeth before licking a wide stripe across it.

You laid there in absolute disbelief. Just this morning you were peeling your hungover body off the couch, wishing Peter was still there next to you, and now you had him. It was hard to connect that the person on top of you, completely ravishing your body with his hands, with his mouth, soon with his… You could not believe this was the same Peter that you had played a hundred games of scrabble with, the same Peter you joked with and ate boxed mac and cheese with, the same goofy person who you were trying so desperately to only think of as a friend. The way his eyes flickered up to met yours as he dragged his tongue down your stomach, moving painfully slowly down to where his fingers met your center, it was impossible you would ever think of him as a friend ever again.

He connects his tongue with your warm folds, matching the slow torturous pace of his fingers. Although he was making you feel a certain pleasure that no one had ever given to you so well, not even yourself, you needed more of him. His erection pressing through his pants onto your lower leg was screaming out to you, and you couldn’t lay still any longer. You wanted to feel him in you, in your hand, mouth, anything.

“Peter, fuck, Peter I need to feel you, please,” you say through heavy breaths.

He doesn’t want to stop touching you, doesn’t want to stop tasting you, but he wanted to give you everything you wanted, so he could only pull back and wait for your next move. You were quick to get on your knees, matching his position. Taking off his belt and feverishly pushing his pants and boxers down, you watch as his cock springs free. Was it bigger than you remembered? Or are you in some sort of fucked out bliss that is causing your brain to only focus on him him him.

He rolls over onto his back so he can kick off his pants, finally catch up to your nakedness. He knows you want him to fuck you, to pound into you as soon as your bodies connect, but he wanted more. You start to move to sit on his hard cock, wanting to fill the space inside of you that needed him so badly, but he cuts you off, grabbing your thigh.

“Not yet,” he pulls your thighs up his torso, muscles rippling underneath your soft skin, “I’m not done with you.”

You look down, your pussy hovering over his parted lips. Knowing where this was going you take a second to flip yourself around, facing the rest of him rather than the headboard. He wraps his arms firmly around your legs, lowering you down onto his tongue, ready to lap you up. You unintentionally grind down on him, loving the sensation of his tongue fucking inside you. Needing to occupy your hands that were currently grasping at the thin sheets, you slowly lean yourself forward, not wanting to compromise your position on his face, to grab his dick that was already leaking precum for you.

You take his base in your hand and run your tongue in circles over his head, delicately licking up the clear liquid that had gathered there. You feel him moan as you suck further down onto him, making your hips grind down into his mouth again, eliciting another moan. Continuing your long slow licks up his shaft, deciding to tease him the way he had been teasing you, you start to feel the familiar tense curling deep in you, knowing you would spill over soon enough.

You wanted to keep sucking him off, reciprocate the pleasure he was giving you, but you couldn’t control the tightening in your thighs that caused you to sit up, balancing your hands on his toned chest. Pulling your hips even closer to his face, Peter knew you were close by the sounds you were making and the way your hips were rolling in small circles above him. With a sharp intake of air, you feel your orgasm start, thighs clamping down on either side of his head.

Moaning his name out over and over you collapse onto your forearms and rock back onto him. He doesn’t let up as your orgasm peaks, digging his tongue deeper into you as he guides your hips with his hands, thumbs pressed firmly into your ass. You are panting, desperately needing air to fuel the breathy moans that he’s causing. You want to pull away, your clit incredibly sensitive, but can’t move your jelly legs from his iron grasp.

“Fuck, Peter I-” you start, but can’t choke out the words as he attaches his mouth to your clit once more, sucking and licking up your sensitivity. He continues to let out deep, gravely moans into you. The overflowing feeling of pleasure from your first orgasm mixed with the rapid building of this one was too much, but you loved the feeling too much to tell him to stop. You wanted to give him everything you had.

“Peter, I-” You start again, using all the air in your chest to push the words out, “I’m gonna come again, and I- and I need you to fuck me, Peter, please.”

In a swift motion, he pushes your hips forward and slips out from underneath you, one hand staying firmly gripped to your hip and the other snaking around to rub your clit, not wanting you to go a second without contact. He takes a second to position himself behind you, rubbing his length against your glimmering opening.

“Y/n, can I-” he asks, wanting to hear you give him permission.

“Please, please, I need you to fuck me Peter, I’m gonna come again.” Your face was pressed into the mattress, breathing becoming more and more rapid, hips positioned up in the air behind you lined up with him.

He pushed his tip into you slowly, but before he could move the rest of himself into you, you rock your hips back, fucking yourself onto him.

He moans your name, relishing the feeling of being inside you after all this time. Once the initial shock has worn off, he remembers to continue touching you, wanting to feel you come around him. He meets your pace, thrusting into you as you continue to roll your hips back onto him. Arms stretched out over your head, you bite down on some bunched-up folds of bedsheet, not wanting everyone to hear you scream out as your second orgasm hit.

You moan into the fabric, but soon feel Peter’s hand wrap around your hair and pull backward, jerking your face up towards him.

“I want to hear you,” he whispers before taking your earlobe into his mouth and licking slowly, biting down a little.

The feeling of his tongue against your ear, hand pulling your hair, and fingers rubbing your clit push you over the edge, your orgasm washes over you, barely having ended the first one. You don’t even think to stay quiet anymore, letting all sorts of noises escape you as he pulls your hair harder, fucking himself into you harder, rubbing your clit harder.

You feel a gush of pure physical bliss wash over you, wetness spilling from you, dripping down your thighs. Peter lets go of your hair and you collapse back down onto the mattress, still rocking your hips into him, riding out the last moments of your peak. Peter grabbed your hips, wringing your body out of every ounce of pleasure he could. He tucks your legs together, fully on top of you now. He fucks into you slowly, knowing you were catching your breath, feeling the warmth and wetness from your high.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he brushes your hair out of your face, twisting your head around to kiss him. His statement was quite nice but came out so filthy given your present activity.

“Fuck, Peter, you make me feel so fucking good,” swollen lips connecting with his again as he continued to push into you deeply, hitting a new spot within you. You squeeze your thighs together, tightening your entrance for him.

The new sensation starts to push him over the edge, fucking you faster as you lift your hips for him. He rubs his hand over your ass, smoothing the skin before giving it a harsh slap. You whimper out his name, begging him to do it again. He smacks the same side, deepening the blotchy red mark.

You feel his hips start to push further into yours, telling you he was close. Tightening your thighs and angling your hips to the perfect spot you wait for his high to hit. With a final slap to your ass, grabbing the flesh before the spank had even registered you, he used his grip on you to fuck himself into you, his breathing getting heavy and uneven.

You feel him quiver behind you, body shaking slightly. You lift your ass even higher, giving him a place to spill himself onto you. You feel the sticky hot fluid land on your back, causing you to arch a little more for him. He rubs his cock against your red ass, his tip rubbing his come into circles on your skin.

You let your hips down, letting your body go completely limp on the bed. You hear his breathing steady, and he lays down next to you. You give him a nudge with your elbow, gesturing to all the come on your back, silently asking him to get you a towel.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he scrambles up and grabs a hand towel from the bathroom, wetting it a little in the sink and wiping down your back with the warm water.

“Thank you,” you were thanking him for more than cleaning you up, but you weren’t sure if he knew that.

“So that’s it?” He asks, wondering if he should get dressed or kiss you, unsure of what to do next.

“Well…” you start, flipping over onto your back, “is it gone?”

“Hmm?” He sits on the bed next to you.

“The sexual tension, is it gone? Wasn’t that the goal? Fuck once and clear the air?”

“No…it’s definitely not gone,” Peter’s voice was tentative, unsure where you were going with all of this.

“Okay, so we have to do it again,” you state plainly, “I need you to keep fucking me until it’s gone.”

“Y/n,” his voice growing deeper, “don’t say that unless you mean it.”

You pull his hand and place it on your cheek, his thumb dragging over your lower lip in the process. You lean your head against him, twisting your body to get closer to his. Looking up to him with a pout and big eyes, you search for the right thing to say, hoping he will speak first.

“If you are going to say things like that,” he continues rubbing his thumb across your lip, “I really need you to mean it.”

“I do mean it,” you whisper.

He gets off the bed and stands in front of you, holding his hand out, offering it to you. You take it, not sure what he meant by it. He helps you up, and before your feel fully hit the ground, he has scooped you up in his arms, carrying you towards the bathroom. You giggle into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He lets you down in the bathroom, leaning into the shower to turn the water on. You sat down on the closed toilet, legs still weak from before.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

You just nod, stepping into the warm shower, making room for him to join you. He presses his body against yours as the water hits you, dampening your hair.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks. You find it funny considering you had been sitting on his face not that long ago.

You lean in, letting the water wash over your faces as you press your lips to his, answering his question. He takes your face in his hands, the action much more gentile and romantic than what you had been doing earlier.

“So, I’m allowed to kiss you,” he starts asking, still cupping your face, “and I’m allowed to fuck you? Until it’s gone?”

“Well we defiantly are not going to be able to in Antarctica, so I suggest we get it all out now,” you say, extending this once-only contract, “Kiss me, fuck me, just don’t wash my hair and massage my scalp, because then I might accidentally fall in love with you.”

You turn around and press your ass into his already growing member, trying to distract him from what you had just said. Why did you say that? Your cheeks grew red, hoping that he would just forget it. His hands coming around your waist, running up and down your body as the water washed over you.

You lean your head back against his shoulder, looking up at him through hooded lids. His hair was now wet and sticking to his forehead, a few stray curls dangling over his eyes. You took a step back to look at his body, carved from fucking stone, as the shower gave him the sheen of a Renaissance painting.

“It’s definitely not gone,” you ran your hands over his stomach, down his hips, to his thighs and back up. “Peter,” you whisper.

His hand comes down to meet your center, and he guides your hand to his. You pull him towards you, stroking his dick in the process. You flip him so he is up against the shower wall, water hitting your back. Pressing your chest flush to his, you lean your head into the curve of his neck, sucking a spot at the base. You continue to make work of him with your hands while you slowly kiss down his chest, leaving splotchy marks on your trail.

You look up at him, now completely on your knees in front of him, hands on his thighs. You open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out, letting it lay flat against your bottom lip, letting him know you are ready for him. You arch your head forward, signaling for him to move his dick into your mouth.

“You want me to...”

You just nod in response sticking your tongue out a little further. He moves his hips forward, the tip of his dick entering your open mouth. After he pushes a few inches in, you wrap your lips around him, letting your tongue run along the underside of him. You stay like this for a moment, taking him slow and deep, seeing how much of him you can fit down your throat before needing to pull back.

You pick up your pace a little, moving your hands to his hips to let him know it’s okay to push into you a little. He moves his hand to the back of your hair, taking a handful. You moan into him, letting him know that you like it.

“Y/n,” he lets out, needy and breathy, “fuck, if you keep sucking my dick like that you’re gonna make me come.”

Before you could suck harder, work on getting him to his finish, you hear a sharp knock on your bedroom door.

“Hey, Y/n, you in there?” you hear you boss Stephen’s voice muffled through the shower.

“Mmmmhmmmm,” you answer loudly, not yet removing Peter’s dick from your mouth.

“We’re meeting upstairs in a little bit, come up once you’re out of the shower.”

“Okay, sure thing,” you respond, Peter’s dick no longer filling your mouth. He can’t help but laugh a little at the situation, chuckling to himself as he helps you up off your knees.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you start.

“No, no, it’s ok. You should probably go though,” he looks at you with apologetic eyes, knowing this was a situation you weren’t excited to find yourself in.

You step out of the shower and quickly slip your clothes back on, wrapping your hair in a towel. You notice a pad of sticky notes on your desk and scribble something down, placing it on the pillow of the messy bed for Peter to find. You hurry out and up the stairs, not wanting to be late for this meeting.

Peter finishes his shower and takes his time drying off, trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened. What was he to you? What were you to him? He had an underlying feeling that this meant more to both of you than you were willing to admit, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it.

He steps out of the steamy shower, searching for some sweats to throw on. He puts on a t-shirt and notices a bright orange note on his bed. He picks it up, smiling to himself as he reads your scratchy handwriting: “call me sometime” followed by your phone number. The number you hadn’t left the first night. A warm feeling crept into his chest.

#peter parker smut #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #tom holland smut #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman smut #spider man smut #spiderman fanfiction #fanfiction #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

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docholligay · 5 years ago

Note

How about "a death worth dying" Haruka/Mina hurt/comfort? A gift for Jet AND you!

Good Prompt! This all takes place in the Talismans AU I’m writing, and if you need to see where it takes place, the entire AU so far is here. 1500 words, and I hope you enjoy for Jetty’s birthday! You can still send prompts in!

Haruka was suicidal, Mina thought, in the same way a Gothic Victorian protagonist was, and this was miles more difficult to deal with than the classic flavor, in her mind. Haruka did not say she wanted to die, and Mina never truly worried that she would come home to a mess. This, you see, would be admitting that something in her life had gotten to her, and this was unacceptable.

So instead, Haruka claimed she was fine, and that she wasn’t trying to hurt herself, and she drank too much, and smoked, and sometimes she didn’t eat, and she drove her motorcycle as fast as she could down the busiest highways and roads of Tokyo. Or, as in the current moment, she let what might have been a simple medical issue get far out of hand, and what could have been a few days in bed had now turned into a fevered, shaking, coughing mess.

But this was not the worst of Mina’s troubles, not by a wide margin, as she ran cold water over a washcloth in their tiny corner the landlord called a kitchen.

No, the worst of it was that Mina was beginning to feel quite fond of Haruka Tenoh, dramatic butch lesbian and self-destruction artist.

She hadn’t meant for it to happen. Rei’s friend Usagi had excitedly put forth the idea that she lived with her parents, and Rei lived at the shrine, but Mina needed a roommate, didn’t she? Usagi had seen her writing up the ad, and now here was Haruka, in need of a place to live, how perfect. Mina had snorted at the idea, and shook her head. Haruka was one of her most irritating and troublesome soldiers, bull headed and loud and angry, and Mina didn’t want to spend any more time with her than she had to.

But Usagi could be very convincing, and Usagi always seemed to be around when they ought to be discussing senshi business, and Usagi had tenderly held Haruka’s broken hand in hers, frowned deeply, and pulled Mina into the arcade closet, turning a particular shade of red Mina had never seen. Haruka was hurt, and that’s why she was grumbly, Usagi opined. Mina didn’t care, she replied. Usagi didn’t care, that Mina didn’t care.

So here she was. In an apartment with Haruka. Forced to discover that Haruka had other sides, that she could be funny, and she was sensitive, and she wasn’t half bad in the kitchen so long as you stuck to something like soba noodles or chicken and egg bowls. She usually had something in the fridge for when Mina got home from work. She tossed in Mina’s laundry with her own. After the disaster of the time they’d kissed, Haruka even sometimes gently initiated a hug, cautiously as a gazelle about to bolt.

And all of that made it easy to care about her, and all of that was very irritating, because this fact about Haruka was still true, and would be true for a very long time: She loved to punish herself for the crime of being Haruka Tenoh.

Mina sighed and shook her head as she wrung out the cloth and folded it on the tray. There was no point in thinking about the whys of the way Haruka was, because Haruka wasn’t ready to even admit it was real, much less root out the cause. No, there was not much to be done except try to ensure she did not succeed at her tragic Byronic death, and hope that someday she pulled her head of her ass. She was already asking Mina to hang out with her, some nights, and had let Mina see her cry, twice now, so, she thought, placing a spoon on the tray next to the bowl of soup, there was hope.

Haruka shivered on the couch, Mina having long since informed her she wasn’t allowed to sequester herself in her room and wait to die.

“If you don’t turn around pretty soon, I’m taking you to the hospital.” Mina set the tray down on the table at the side of the couch.

“No way,” Haruka shook her head, “No.”

“Listen I know your hearing’s not great but that actually wasn’t a question,” she plopped her straw in the glass of Sprite, “or a request.”

Haruka struggled to sit up, her eyes bright with fever and annoyance.” Mina, I still get a say in what I–”

A cough racked her, heavy and wet and deep, and Haruka’s eyes closing against the painful wheeze of it. MIna laid a hand on her back and handed her a handkerchief, waiting patiently until the worth of ended, and Haruka lay back against the side of the couch, and the pillows stacked there.

“Compelling argument.” Mina rolled her eyes, but slipped the ibuprofen into Haruka’s hand.

“Mina–”

“I’m not gonna fight about this and you don’t have the energy,” MIna handed her the sprite, “I’m giving you the night. Then we’re done here. You sound like shit.”

Haruka swallowed the pills and took a sip of the soda. “Is this a Shirley temple?”

Mina pulled an ugly thrift-store chair from across the room, and set it by Haruka’s head. “You like those, and I need you not to be dehydrated on top of everything else.”

“Thanks.” After a few drinks, she gave it back to Mina, and closed her eyes, “I’m a pain in the ass.”

“Yes, you fucking are.” Mina barked, harder than she meant to, and she felt a little pang (damn you, Usagi) when Haruka flinched at it.

Mina got on Haruka, frequently, about trying to hide everything behind being angry, and here she was, doing the same thing. She was annoyed, it was true, but that wasn’t all of it. Few things are pure, in this world, and most situations are a kaleidoscope of jagged bits of emotion, simply reflected back on each other.

“Ruka,” she sighed, picking up the cloth, “You’re making me fucking crazy,” She gently placed the compress on Haruka’s forehead, “You know why?”

Haruka shrugged, eyes still closed. “I’m dumb.”

Mina’s hand moved faster than her mind, and she snatched at Haruka’s nipple through her shirt, twisting it. “I told you not to say that shit.”

“Mina!” Haruka yelped, and it turned into another terrible, racking cough.

Mina jumped up and sat on the couch next to her, rubbing her back as each jolt went through Haruka’s entire body. Sitting this close, Mina could feel how exhausted she was, and she wasn’t sure if it was just the nature of Mina’s emotional vibrations or the fact that she was so sick it was probably echoing all the way down to the Roppongi district.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s okay, calm down. Slow breaths, I’m sorry.” She picked up the compress from Haruka’s lap, “It’s okay, lay back.”

Haruka laid back on the pillow, half-asleep already with the sheer effort of a ten minute conversation. “S’okay.”

Mina took her hand. “You know why you’re a pain in my ass? Why you make me fucking crazy? Because I like having you around. I want you to stick around.” She placed the cool cloth back on Haruka’s forehead. “Sometimes it feels like I’m fighting you to make that happen.”

“Sometimes, I think,” Haruka opened her eyes heavily, staring at the ceiling, “It’d be better if I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, your actions make that pretty abundantly clear, Bud. But,” Mina put her other hand on top of Haruka’s, holding it tight. “Isn’t true, you know. Haruka, I have a lot better shit to do than sit next to you on the couch, but when I think in my mind about you not being here…I hate it.”

Tell her you love her, came a voice in her mind, and, sitting on the floor of a cathedral a month later, she would be sorry she swept it away. Regrets come to us all, in the end.

“Yeah?” was Haruka’s only reply.

“Yeah,” Mina patted her hand, “Besides, if you’re gonna chase death, this is not how you want to do it. You could go out in a blaze of glory, you could run into a building to save a child, but you’re gonna get pneumonia? Crash your bike? C’mon. Basic. Pedestrian. I expect so much more from you. Don’t die for nothing, when there’s so much something out there to die for.”

Haruka gave a weak smile. “A death worth dying.”

“Exactly, so if you’d forget the Victorian orphan act and eat this soup, I’d appreciate it.” She took the tray off the table and set it on Haruka’s lap. “Don’t be afraid, the soup is from the cafe on the corner.”

Haruka took a shaky breath as she tried to stifle a cough. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“God, just ask me not to be a sensual being that drives lust into the hearts of all who look upon me, you impossible lesbian.” Mina grinned. “So hard to cover these many talents.”

“Maybe,” Haruka took a slurp of soup, “a turtleneck.”

“Okay, that one was pretty good so I’m gonna let it slide, but next time you’re getting popped.”

In some stories, Haruka would have immediately stopped smoking, made a regular schedule for meals, and driven at a conservative rate of speed, for the rest of her life. But this is not one of those stories, and the walls of self-denial and self-destruction come down as slowly as they are built.

But today, there was a warm bowl of soup on Haruka’s lap, and a chunk of the wall fell out, and crumbled to the ground.

#Anonymous #Jet Wolf Labor Day Weekend #Magical Friendship Writing Day #scribbling under a bare lightbulb

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boeserbby · 6 years ago

Text

Only Time Will Tell- Brock Boeser 1.2

about/request: I really wanted to explore a relationship where you are ‘the other woman’ this is the result of that. I’m not sure how long this will end up so…. sorry.

warnings: cursing, panic attack, underage drinking, yelling, dark thoughts

authors note: Just a reminder that this story is made up. Charlie is based off a real person but everything else is made up. Also Brock played in Iowa for the 14-15 season in Iowa so he really wouldn’t have played in Bloomington, but I made it so he played for his high school team again. Italicized is inner thoughts or you are speaking to yourself. This is two separate flash backs. More real time in the next part.

word count: 2330

I never really understood where Brock and I stood after I left. I wonder if he remembers that kiss they way I do. That kiss was my first and was unlike any other. Maybe it was the beer or the fact that “Hey! I’m kissing Brock.”, or possibly both, but that kiss was as unforgettable as the first taste of whiskey. It wasn't too long after Charlie died and the hockey team dedicated a game in his honor. After first period all of Bloomington High School Boys’ Varsity hockey team joined my parents on the ice. Almost all of Bloomington High School packed the stands same with parents, community members and old coaches who knew Charlie.

People were weeping as my mother stone cold delivered a beautiful performance that deserved an Oscar nomination. The moment of silence that followed was the loudest 60 seconds of my life. No one dared speak, even the children stood in solemn protest of the death of Charlie Y/L/N. The team annihilated our adversaries 14-1, and I could hear Charlie in the background complaining how the big defeat like that wasn't fun.

The real fun began much later. Long after parents were at home, a huge party started at Louis Newton’s house. People poured in and poured drinks in honor of my brother. Of course I had no plans on going. It was a Friday night, the last Friday before finals started. I had not slept a full night in months without waking up to a nightmare of some sorts. I couldn't drink, or at least I wasn’t supposed to, with the anti-anxiety and antidepressants I was taking. Add on to the fact that if I do go people would stare. I was the dead kids sister. It wasn’t until as I walked out of the arena Wren Conn, another one of my brother’s friends, convinced my parents it would do me good to go get dinner with the team.

Walking into Louis Newton’s house was like walking into a brewery that was invaded by wild animals. People were everywhere. Some I recognized that Charlie and I had played with on the Jr. Mites back when we were 4. Everyone was in that weird drunk stage where the liquor didn't quite hit them fully, but the slight hazy buzz wafted around. Wren was the first to arrive from the hockey team so a large amount of cheering started once he walked in. I wasn't sure where the others were but Wren didn't seem to care much as he grabbed us two drinks. Years of being the sober cab when Charlie and Brock did this made me hesitant to drink the reddish orange liquid but after the first cup, each slid down faster and magically tasted better too.

I wouldn't have even noticed the arrival of the rest of the hockey team 45 minutes later if it wasn't for the entire house erupting into the off key singing of “We are the Champions” as the boys filed into the already cramped quarters. To be honest by then the weird mixture I had been chugging almost made me forget the big blonde boy I had been avoiding. Almost.

I had lost Wren as I made my way through the living room, or at least right then it was the makeshift dance floor. The kitchen was my destination. My goal was my 5th or maybe even 6th drink. I was alone inside that room and even more so inside myself when he walked in.

�� An awkward silence enveloped the room as I tried to pour my drink and not make eye contact. I tipped the jug higher hoping, praying, that I would be able to fly out of their. Escape from Brock, from my parents, from Charlie and the guilt I had because of him. I don't even know what he was doing while the cup slowly filled. It wasn't until as I grabbed the cover to the gallon that his hand touched mine. I stayed looking at the countertops as I could feel the anxiety I had been avoiding all night tighten my chest.

“I’m gonna have some too,” he mumbled.

I wasn't watching as I grabbed my cup and attempted an exit. Attempted is the big word in the sentence. Right when I had the idea to leave another individual had the idea to streak through the entire house including through the kitchen. He rounded the corner just as I had followed the countertop and boom. We met and there was liquid hangover all over.

To be specific it was all over me. Buffy managed to escape the flood of liquor as he whooped and continued through the maze of rooms. Brock managed to grab my arm in time so I didn't fall from the streaker.

“Are you okay?” he asked turning my body so he could make sure I wasn't seriously hurt.

I could feel the tears well up in my eyes as each heart beat thumped deep in my chest. I could feel my hands starting to shake as each breath seemed to have a harder and harder time going through my chest. I think Brock sensed what was happening. It wasn't the first time I was having a panic attack around Brock. One time when I was 13 I forgot my homework sitting on my desk at home. I remember Brock calmed me down and raced back home which was quite far, especially as it was dead winter and 3 feet of snow plus thick coats, snow pants and boots made sprinting hard. Yet he made it there and back in 5 minutes which was usually a 15 minute walk.

He grabbed my wrist and made his way upstairs and into a dark bedroom. He sat me on the bed and went into the bathroom, running slightly warm water onto some hand towel.

“Put this on your neck,” he said using a voice as sweet as honey. “Focus on your breathing.”

Yet in that moment all I could think of was Charlie. Weird I know. Here I am drunk off my ass in some random guys bedroom with my brother’s closest friend thinking of that brother.

“In” Brock said, sucking in a big breath of his own.

Why did it have to be Charlie? Why wasn't it me?

“Out.”

It should have been me. I bet mom and dad would have been happier if Charlie lived and I didn’t. Charlie would have made something of himself. You’ll never make anything of yourself.

“In.”

I bet Brock would be happier too. He wouldn't have to be sitting in some random guys house in some random guy’s bedroom trying to calm down some little kid. The only reason he is here with you is because he pities you. He could care less about you if your brother wasn't dead.

“Out.”

No one would care if you were dead. Hell even Charlie wouldn't have cared.

“Y/N/N I know there’s a lot going on your mind but you have to listen to me. I know you're thinking about Charlie” he starts strong but starts muttering towards the end.

Between each struggle for breath you hear Charlie’s name come out of Brock’s mouth. It peaked my interest, but my booming thoughts smothered any light his words brought. Then it happened. He went from kneeling in front of me as I sat on the bed to having his lips meet mine.

God, my heart. If I wasn't afraid of a heart attack before that, I was terrified of it now. He tasted of gatorade and beer which I know saying it makes it sound gross and believe me it was disgusting. No way in hell do gatorade and beer ever belong together. Don't try it. It doesn’t taste good, trust me. Yet as soon as he pulled away I was too focused on the fact we kissed I forgot about my guilt.

To be honest, everything after that was super blurry. I only remember that as I was lying down now clothed in Brock’s shirt in the bed as Brock lay on the floor, I started to cry. It was silent, but not quite enough for Brock to not hear. He got up and lay next to me. That was the first time I slept without nightmares.

The next morning I woke up and the bed was empty. My head hurt something awful and I couldn’t remember anything after that kiss. I got up and pulled my pants on. I was just buckling the when the door started to open. Brock walked in carrying a bottle of ibuprofen and large cups of coffee.

“Hey, I thought you might want some,” he said throwing me a bottle of pain relievers.

“Thanks,” I mumbled as he hands me my cup and he sits on the bed.

“You okay?” he asked. That was such a weird question. Okay was a relative word and meant different things for different people. Mabe right now I was okay but once I walked out that door would I still be okay?

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, trying to ignore the major headache.

“About last night,” he said. Suddenly everything wasn’t okay anymore. He means the kiss. Oh gosh, that was my first kiss. What if he says something about it?

“Yeah?” I said trying to discreetly wipe my hands on my knees.

“I don't really remember everything that happened, I was just double checking that you are 100% alright,” he said. A strange feeling washed over me in that moment. It certainly wasn't relief. It was more like dread, but why dread?

“Yeah, I’m just trying to live each day as best I can.”

That was the last good memory I had of me Brock. Our last conversation was a lot different. Of course it was right after a huge loss in playoffs. The refs called stupid things and for some reason Brock got into a fight with the other team’s center. They both got ejected. My parents went over to the Boeser’s house that night for our weekly family dinner they tried to start to keep our families close. I think it was so my parents could feel close to Brock because in some ways it was like being close to Charlie.

When we got to the house I saw Brock going for a walk towards the old park Charlie and him would always go to which inevitably meant I went too. I jogged to catch up to him but hung back a bit. I could tell when he was angry. It was in his walk, the way he shoved his hands deep inside his pockets, the way he breathed in deep breaths like he was trying to keep from screaming at even the bird who whistled it's call far in the distance.

When we got to the park he harshly sat on the merry-go-round. He started spinning slowly. I sat directly across from him, but angled my body so I faced him as he kept his legs turned out towards the rest of the world.

“You did really good, Brock” I said. I knew he was frustrated about losing the game and I knew he was going through it over and over again in his head.

He stayed silent. So I tried again, “Brock, I’m sorry you guys didn't go farther.”

“You don’t get it,” He said.

“What? What don’t I get?” I asked.

“Anything! Everything!” he said raising his voice just slightly. “I just wanted to spend some time alone, but here you are. Just like when Charlie and I went anywhere. You always had to come with.”

I didn't know what to say, I just sat there in silence. “Did you ever think that maybe Charlie didn't want you to come with everywhere he went? Charlie would sit here and complain about how clingy you were but I really didn't notice until he was gone how bad you really were. Can’t you just get over yourself and leave people alone for 5 minutes,” he said and by now he was standing and looking right at me.

“I’m sorry you felt that way,” I said quietly getting up from my spot. I started to walk back to his house, not bothering to look back. Once I got back I faked sick and had Wren pick me up and drive me home.

I locked myself in my room for a whole week after that. I spent the whole time laying in bed or looking at baby pictures. I ignored my phone and even debated blocking Brock, but every time the little pop-up screen came up asking if I was sure, I couldn’t hit it. So I silenced him and his 38 calls and 56 texts.

By then it was about time for him to leave for development camp before the draft. Brock and his mother stopped outside the house the day they left. My parents went out but I made up some stupid excuse. Instead I watched out the window. When my parents came back inside they fought for what seemed to be the 80th time that week. I texted him that I accepted his apology and wished him luck. Then I focused on my future. Nothing was going to stop me from leaving Minnesota. Nothing.

I never even really said goodbye to Brock. Once I left it seemed like contact between us ceased to exist. Occasionally there would be a like on Instagram or maybe one of those stupid comments on a family picture on Facebook. Neither him nor I reached out to each other, and soon we were just two ships in the sea. I made a new Instagram page and turned off my Facebook account, all but deleting him and most of my Minnesotan past. I focused on college and I guess so did he. Now look at us. Strangers in familiar faces. Strange how life works.

#nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #brock boeser #brock boeser imagines #brock boeser imagine #Vancouver canucks

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andbeingblueisbetter · 6 years ago

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Girl That You Love

A/n: This isn’t a request, it’s just something I randomly thought up and it’s kind of all over the place, but yeah!

Warnings: reckless drinking, talk/portrayal of mental illness, ANGST, Brendon being kind of an ass (which I know he’d never he’s an angel) and just sad shit basically because I’m a sad piece of shit right now

Word count: 2.7k

You let out a soft sigh as you throw what was left of your cigarette out the window, pulling into the garage of your’s and Brendon’s shared home. You roll up your window and take the keys out of the ignition, spraying a bit of perfume all over your body before getting out of the car and walking into your house. You’re greeted by the dogs but the quietness of the house leads you to assume that Brendon was out in the studio.

You make your way outside and to the studio, pushing the door open slowly to reveal Jake, Dan and Brendon, all playing a game you were unfamiliar with on their computers, “oh hey Y/n!” Jake says, noticing your presence, Brendon mumbles something quickly into his microphone before pushing his headphones off and walking up to you, “hey baby.” He mumbles, kissing your lips softly, “you said you were going to quit,” he whispers to you, pushing a strand of your messy hair behind your ear.

“I had a stressful day, and it was just one.” You say back to him quietly, annoyed that he would say anything, because he knew you were trying your best to quit smoking, “I’m just gonna go watch a movie or something, you should come with.”

“Jake and Dan actually just got here and we’re streaming right now, so I’ll probably be there in a few hours, you don’t need to wait up if you’re tired.” He smiles, giving you a kiss on your forehead before walking back to his chair. You nod wordlessly and walk out and back inside, walking straight to your liquor cabinet, grabbing two of the first bottles you saw and bringing them up to your room. You sit down on the bed, placing the bottles carefully next to you. Brendon has been distant lately, you don’t know why or if he even realizes it, but he has been, and it wasn’t helping your already deteriorating mental health.

—

Within less than an hour, you’re really drunk and really not okay to be alone, but you lay on the bed, scrolling through Twitter. More specifically, the side of Twitter you don’t want to be on when you are drunk and alone, at least when you’re Brendon Urie’s girlfriend. Your feed was filled with rumors about Brendon and other girls, and rude comments about you. You lock your phone and throw it off to the side, standing up to find Brendon. You stumble a bit once you’re up and walking, but managed to stay up.

You walk downstairs with a blanket draped around your shoulders and you slide on a pair of Brendon’s (much too big) shoes, and you walk out to the studio, pushing the door open, stumbling as you walk in the door.

“Uh, guys I’m gonna have to go for right now, sorry to end so suddenly, love you all.” He says to the stream quickly, pulling his headphones off of his head, “Y/n, how much have you had to drink?” He asks, standing up from his chair, leading you to sit in it.

“I dunno, a lot.” You slur your words, leaning back in the chair, looking up at him, “what have you had to eat today?” He asks quickly after you finish speaking and you try to think back through the day.

“A granola bar, some chips and a cigarette. And some alcohol. And coffee.” You say after a moment, looking over at Dan and Jake, whose eyes were on you, “I’m fine, stop looking at me like that.” You snap at all three of them and begin to stand up from his chair.

“Y/n you never drink. Like rarely, and never this much, what’re you doing?” Jake asks you, looking from you to Brendon and Brendon nods, looking back to you.

“I’m an adult, you aren’t my keepers, if I want to drink I can drink.” You roll your eyes and walk to the door, quickly walking back to the house.

“She’s not okay, I think she’s going through something. She’s going to do something stupid if she’s in there alone, you guys can crash in here if you want, I’ll be inside.” Brendon says to Jake and Dan, and they nod understandingly as he makes his way back into the house behind you.

“Y/n you need to eat something, what do you want?” Brendon asks you as soon as he walks in, walking over to the couch, which was as far as you could make it.

“I’m not hungry, I’m gonna throw up if I eat.” You mumble, pulling a blanket over your body, “you’re going to throw up either way, you need to eat. People who don’t eat while they’re drunk are the people that get alcohol poisoning.” He says in a somewhat sarcastic tone.

“Why are you being an ass?” You ask, sitting up on the couch slowly, “I didn’t do anything to you.” If you were sober, you’d never say anything like that to him, but to be fair he is being an ass, you thought to yourself.

“Because you’re being stubborn, I’m trying to help you and you’re not letting me.” He sighs, grabbing another blanket from the other couch and places it over your shoulders, “Jake was right though, you never drink. I can tell something’s wrong babe.” He sits down on the couch next to you, keeping a small amount of distance between you two, which was odd for you because of how close you usually were to each other.

You roll your eyes, not really in the mood to talk to him, but you know he’d never leave you alone. “You’re just so distant. You’re always with your friends or always in the studio, you never even come to bed most nights. It’s like you don’t even love me anymore and it’s frustrating. Because I love you so much and I feel like you don’t love me as much as I love you.” You see the expression on his face change from guilt to anger in a matter of seconds and you lean your head against the couch, preparing for him to yell or at least raise his voice at you, which is something you’d never heard because in the two years you’d been dating, you’d really never had any big fights.

“I don’t love you as much as you love me?” He starts, his voice still calm, “You’re so clueless if you think that, you don’t even know me if you think that. I am so in love with you, there is absolutely no way that I could possibly show you how much I love you, Y/n. And I thought you knew that. I’ve never been so in love with anybody. And if you really want to know why I was being so distant, it’s because I was figuring out a way to propose, and you know I can’t keep a fucking secret.” His voice raises at the end and you flinch, tears filling your eyes. Brendon stands up from the couch and he walks out the door to go back to the studio, slamming the door on the way out.

You stand up from the couch, tears streaming down your face as you begin to walk to the bathroom slowly, the room spinning as you sit down on the bathroom floor and puke into the toilet. You begin to sob silently, only stopping to puke more.

—

You ended up passing out on the bathroom floor, your head leaning against the wall and a blanket over your legs.

Your body jolts awake to the sound of the bathroom door opening quickly and hitting the vanity and you let out a soft groan of pain, reaching up to rub your head. “What time is it?” You mumble out, leaning your head back against the wall, “it’s like 3:30 in the morning.” Brendon replies, walking over to you, “here, let me help you up.” He says quietly, reaching his hand out to grab yours. You accept his help and he pulls you up with ease, keeping your hand in his once you’re up.

You walk forward a bit to look at yourself in the mirror and you swear quietly as you see your image. Your eyes had become red and puffy from crying, your mascara was smeared and your hair was a mess. “Let’s just get you back to bed.” Brendon says softly, leading you up to your bedroom. Once you’re up there you lay down in the bed, pulling the comforter over you body, “are you coming to bed?” You ask him quietly, hoping he says yes because he’s warm and you’re cold and you need his cuddles.

“I think I’m going to just sleep on the couch tonight. Jake and Dan are here anyway. We can talk in the morning about all of this.”

Your eyes fill with tears once again and you let out a shaky sigh, “please?” You say quietly, your voice cracking as you try to hold back your tears. You’re definitely still a little drunk.

Brendon runs his hand through his messy hair and pulls off his shirt, climbing into the bed next to you, pulling out his phone to text Jake or Dan, you assume. Once he’s finished he sets his phone on the bedside table and moves close to you, wrapping his arms around you gently, “I love you.” He says gently into your ear and you lean back into his touch, “I love you too.” You mumble back, drifting to sleep fairly quickly in his arms.

—

You wake up the next morning with a pounding headache, which was expected, and you notice right away that Brendon is no longer sitting next to you. You sit up and notice a bottle of water with 3 ibuprofen on your bedside table along with a donut on a plate and a note underneath it,

“I know I said we’d talk in the morning, but I needed to meet up with Zack and get some stuff figured out, I’ll be home around 2. Brendon” You smile softly at the gesture and take the ibuprofen, pushing the donut to the side for the time being, you were too nauseous to eat. You glance up at the clock on the wall realizing that you had slept until 12:30, and Brendon would be home in about an hour and a half.

You finally get enough energy to pull yourself out of bed and you walk to the bathroom, showering and put on a new pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, walking downstairs and to the couch, turning on some reruns of ‘The Office’ to pass the time while you anxiously wait for Brendon to come home. Being hungover, depressed and with a headache, you fall back asleep on the couch, waking up about an hour and a half later to the door opening and Brendon dropping his keys onto the table. You sit up and rub your eyes softly, reaching for the remote to turn the TV off. “How do you feel?” Brendon asks you, kicking off his shoes and coming to sit next to you on the couch.

You laugh a bit and pull the blanket over your body, “shitty. Better than when I woke up, but still shitty.” Talking to him seemed awkward, which was weird because you had never not been comfortable around each other, even in the beginning, “can we talk? About last night?” You ask quietly, looking back up to him, watching him nod.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I was being a dick and I was drunk which I know isn’t an excuse but I just haven’t been okay? For the past few days, work has sucked and I’ve felt so alone and I didn’t know how to tell you that without burdening you and last night I guess I just really needed you. But when I saw Jake and Dan were here, I knew that you’d want to hang out with them, obviously, and so I figured that if I drank, I’d feel better. But it didn’t work like that I guess.” You wipe under your eye at the tear that had fallen and you sniffle, trying to hold back anymore that were coming.

He sighs, placing his hand on your knee, “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. I didn’t realize how distant I was being, you should’ve said something. I would’ve been with you more.” You could tell he was hoping you’d forgotten about what he said about proposing, but you didn’t.

“I’m sorry I ruined your proposal. I don’t expect you to do it anymore. Or to do anything big, I don’t deserve it.” You say softly, letting the tears fall down your cheeks now.

He rubs your knee softly, shaking his head, “you deserve something amazing. I shouldn’t have told you, it was just the heat of the moment. I’m so in love with you Y/n, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I wanted to ask you in an amazing way, and Jake, Dan, Nicole, Mike, my parents and Zack have all been helping me out, and I want it to be perfect. And it still will be, I’ll just do it when you’re least expecting it.”

You laugh quietly, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “Okay. I’m sorry.” You mumble and look up to him as he leans in, kissing your lips softly, “I love you.” You say as you break the kiss.

—

It’s been about a month since the whole ‘ordeal’ and everything has been going steady, how it had been going before.

“Hey babe, it’s super nice out, do you wanna go to the beach or something? And then we can grab dinner after if you want?” Brendon suggests, looking up at the time, “it’s only 5:30, we could catch the sunset too!” He says excitedly and you laugh, standing up.

“Yeah, that sounds fun.” You walk to your room, pulling your clothes off and searching for a bikini to wear, you jump a bit as you feel Brendon’s hands on your shoulders, “you’re so beautiful.” He mumbles, placing a few kisses on your neck.

You giggle and pull on the first bikini you find, sliding a pair of athletic shorts and a T-shirt on over it, making your way back downstairs, “I’m ready.” You say, sliding on a pair of shoes. “Go to the car, I’ll be there in a second.” You walk out to his car and get in, starting it up for him, and moments later he walks out with a bag with towels and food in it.

The drive to the beach is fairly quiet, music is playing softly and Brendon’s hand is resting on your thigh the whole way, you didn’t talk to each other, but it wasn’t awkward by any means.

A few minutes later you arrive at the beach. You grab your items and walk to a place in the sand, laying your towel out right next to Brendon’s, “B look at the sunset, it’s so pretty!” You say excitedly. The sky was a dark red with some pink all around it, you smile as you stare up at the sky, admiring the colors.

When you turn around, Brendon is looking at you already, a small smile on his face, “what?” You ask, laughing a bit. Brendon’s smile widens a bit as he begins to speak, “Y/n. You are the love of my life, but you already know that.” He takes a deep breath before he continues, “you’re the most compassionate, gorgeous, hilarious, caring, sympathetic person I have ever met, and God, I’m so lucky that you love me. The moment we met, I knew you’d be part of my life. I didn’t know how, but I knew that you’d be in my life forever, and I know that’s cheesy, but this whole thing is cheesy. I could go on for hours and hours about how much I love you, but I’m going to stop here for right now. Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?” He asks as he goes down onto one knee, showing a ring.

Tears fall down your cheeks as you look at him and you nod, “yes Brendon. Of course!” You say excitedly and he stands back up, placing the ring on your finger and hugging you tightly, “I love you.” You mumble into his ear. “I love you too, Y/n Urie.”

#brendon urie one shots #brendon urie x reader #brendon x reader #brendon urie smut #brendon urie imagines #panic! imagines #panic! at the disco #panic! at the beebo #panic! at the brendon

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psychospeak-blog · 6 years ago

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Won’t Go Slowly // 48

A/N: Name reveal time! Also, hella long

One // Two // Three // Four // Five // Six // Seven // Eight // Nine // Ten // Eleven // Twelve // Thirteen // Fourteen // Fifteen // Sixteen // Seventeen // Eighteen // Nineteen// Twenty // Twenty One // Twenty Two // Twenty Three // Twenty Four// Twenty Five // Twenty Six // Twenty Seven // Twenty Eight // Twenty Nine // Thirty // Thirty One // Thirty Two // Thirty Three // Thirty Four// Thirty Five // Thirty Six // Thirty Seven // Thirty Eight // Thirty Nine // Forty // Forty One // Forty Two // Forty Three // Forty Four // Forty Five // Forty Six // Forty Seven

You stretched in bed, noticing, even then, that your belly felt so much smaller than it had before.

And then you remembered, a smile coming across your face even before you opened his eyes.

He was here.

That was the first thing you thought as you became aware that you were in the hospital and light was shining through your eyelids, finally having gotten more than over an hour of straight sleep. You blinked open your eyes, seeing that the curtain was still drawn over the windows, and you could see light from a phone, illuminating a face sitting in the chair in the corner of the room.

"Tyler?" you asked, your voice sounding scratchy and a little weak, and the face turned towards you, smiling, the phone being set down so his face was being covered by shadows again.

"Hey, baby, how are you feeling?"

You looked down, at the clear bassinet that had been at the side of your bed all night, which was now empty, except for blankets scrunched up at the bottom, and you bolted upright. "Where is he?"

"They just took him to change him, babe, he's right in there," Tyler said, pointing at the adjoining bathroom, and now you could see the light coming under the door, and hear his quiet little cries ever now and then, and you relaxed back into the bed. "Sorry, we were trying not to wake you up, didn't mean to scare you."

"That's okay," you said, running your hand over your face. "I'm a little out of it."

"Yeah, well I think you ran the equivalent of like two to three marathons last night, so I think you're okay," he quirked his lips at you, coming over to squeeze you on the shoulder. "You feeling okay? Did you get any sleep?"

"A little," you said, blinking and then squinting at him, "Why are you not wearing a shirt?"

"Oh, I was doing skin-to-skin with him," Tyler said, scratching the back of his neck while your heart absolutely melted, and part of you wished you woke up a few minutes earlier. Or that something had taken pictures. "The nurses said it's good for him."

Part of you wondered if the nurses had only told him that to get him to take his shirt off, but they had actually been really great. And it wasn't like they'd just been sitting there staring at him. Plus, they'd encouraged you to do it, too.

"Is that okay?" Tyler asked as he put his shirt back on and you scoffed a little laugh.

"You don't have to ask me."

"Yeah, I do, you're his mom."

"Yeah, but you're his..." you said, "he's yours, too."

"No, he's not. He's yours."

"No, I know," you said softly, and then let out a breath, looking up at Tyler. "But he's kinda yours, too. In a way. "

Tyler looked down at you, chewing a little on his lip as he thought it through. "No, I know. I just..."

"He's not just mine," you said, feeling your emotions rise, "there's a lot of people who love him."

"Awe, babe, don't cry, I know," Tyler said, his arm coming to wrap around you squeezing your shoulder.

"I'm not sad, I'm so happy," you said.

"So, this crying thing is not gonna stop now that he's out of you?" Tyler asked.

You just smiled, shaking your head "no", a couple tears running down your cheeks, and you sat forward, taking your back off the mattress behind you. "You just...you don't have to ask my permission to hold him. Or to do something to take care of him."

Tyler smiled softly at you. "Okay, okay, I'll try," he said, "I don't really know what I'm doing though, if it's okay, so I might be asking you a lot of questions."

"I don't know what I'm doing either," you laughed.

"Yeah, you do," Tyler said, leaning over to place a kiss on his forehead. "You're his mom."

The bathroom door opened, and you turned to see the light shining into the room, the nurse cradling him, his little cries making you sit up a bit more in the bed, reaching your arms out towards him, and then you opened the robe you'd brought from home, revealing your tank top underneath, and she helped you settle him on your chest, her covering him with a blanket since he was naked other than his diaper, a little hat, and his hospital bracelets.

"Good morning, baby," you said, looking down at him, rubbing your hand up and down his back and you tried to soothe his little cries.

"We'll let him calm down a bit, and then you can try to feed him," she said, and you nodded, unable to take your gaze off him, "Y/N, I'm going to get you some breakfast, and some juice and water. Do you want some ibuprofen?"

"Yes, please," you said, shifting a little on the bed.

"Ice?"

"Yes, please," you said, looking down at your son still, "Thank you."

As soon as she left, Tyler whispered, "What is the ice for?"

You didn't say anything, because you thought it was rather obvious.

"Do you have to ice your boobs so the milk is cold?"

You immediately started laughing, which was really not a good thing, considering you had a fresh baby laying on your chest.

"No," you said, "Ow, don't make me laugh."

"I'm sorry, I was just asking."

"Little babies drink warm milk," you said, biting your lip to try not to laugh now, tears running down your face. You looked at Tyler, who now had his arms crossed over his chest, a little redness creeping into his cheeks and his gaze darting away like he was embarrassing. "Have you ever seem a woman walking around with an ice pack strapped to her chest?"

"No....." Tyler said slowly, and then looked back to you, "I don't see a lot of women with babies, okay?"

You laughed, wincing just a little.

"You alright?

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a bit sore."

"Where?"

"Everywhere?" You said, and then looked at Tyler's concerned face, as he winced as well. "I'm fine, Tyler, I don't even care, I'm so happy."

You bounced the baby a little more, feeling hin warm against you, listening to his whimpers fade, his mouth slowly opening and closing his dark eyes blinking. "Is my mom still here?"

"No, I told her she could go sleep for a bit, so she went to your house. Do you need her?"

"No, he might be okay to eat now, but I'll wait," you said, fixing his hat. At least he seemed content now. "I thought you left to go get sleep?"

He'd been there for a while, while they weighed and measured him, and checked him out. And, even after Nicole and Danielle left he'd fallen asleep sitting up on the padded bench, which your mom had slept in the reclining chair, until finally you'd told Tyler to go home and get some rest.

"Yeah, I did," he said, shaking his head a little and his hair looked unruly, and you could only imagine yours looked about the same, "I couldn't sleep, though, so I came back."

"You're not tired?"

"Honestly, not really," he shrugged.

"You don't have stuff to do?"

"No," he said, and then cracked a smile. "Why? You trying to get rid of me?"

"No, I'm trying not to get you in trouble," you said, "of course I want you to stay."

Tyler smiled, and then his eyes flicked downwards. "His eyes are open," he said, taking a step towards him, running his hand over the baby's head and crouching down so he was in his eyesight. "Hey little man."

You blinked away your emotion, and then swallowed it, lifting his hat up a little as you tried to look down. "Were his eyes closed when you had him?"

"I don't know, I couldn't see," Tyler said, "he was making really cute noises though."

"Like what?" You asked, turning the baby in you arms so you were cradling him and you could look at his eyes, but he started making little grumpy noises, stretching his arms and legs out.

"I don't know, like little noises with his mouth," Tyler said, "he sounded happy. Not like he does now."

"Yeah, could you grab a blanket and put it down on the bed for me, please?" You asked, nodding towards the ones that were in his bassinet, watching as Tyler grabbed it, coming to try and cover him like the nurse had, "like, flatten it out, I think he wants to be swaddled."

He laid it down diagonally to you, smoothing out any wrinkles and you were about to put the baby down, when Tyler reached in front, flipping down the top of the blanket like you'd showed him, and then he grinned at you.

"Thanks," you said, laying the baby down, moving your fingers over his chest, and took in his open eyes, and how long his eyelashes were.

"He's gorgeous," Tyler said, hovering behind you, and just staring at him like you were. "He looks like just like you."

"Do you think so?" You asked. Because, as you saw it, you really saw a lot of Tyler in him. He definately has Tyler's lips, and his cheeks.

"Mhmm," he said, so confidently that you couldn't argue with him. "For sure, he looks like you."

"He has your toes though," you said, wiggling them before you put the blanket over him.

"Yeah, he does," Tyler laughed, "I'm sorry, bud, but they're way cuter on you than me."

You smiled, finishing swaddling him up, and started looking like he was struggling hard to keep his eyes open, Tyler moving close to you, as you both looked at him.

"You did so good, babe," he said, moving his arm around your shoulders, as he sat down gingerly on the side of the bed, placing a kiss on the side of your head, "I'm so proud of you."

You smiled, leaning into him, but keeping your eyes trained on the little human you'd created in front of you, because you couldn't look away. "You did so good."

"I didn't do anything," he laughed.

You tore your gaze away from the baby to look at Tyler for only a second, and then slid your hand under to support his head, picking him up to cradle him because if you weren't looking at him you needed to be touching him.

"Yeah, you did, you rubbed my back, and held my hand, and brought me stuff," you said, "you listened to me yell at you."

"You didn't yell at me," Tyler laughed, "you were really nice, actually, you kept saying please and thank you, and you kept apologizing. Even though you could have totally been cussing me out."

"I'm pretty sure I remember screaming "no!" and "stop!" you at some point."

"Yeah," Tyler, tilting his head off to one side a shrugging, "I mean, you kind of did, yeah, but, to be honest, I was expecting a lot more yelling. You were just pushing your body so hard, if you needed to scream to get through it, then you needed to scream. But you did it. And once you got to start pushing him out, it was, like, game over. You got this look in your eye, like you were so intense and focused but you were, like, super loving at the same time? It was crazy. It was the most amazing thing I've ever gotten to be a part of."

And, somehow, it wasn't really his words that got you so much as his tone: he sounded absolutely in awe of the whole experience.

"I am so glad you were looking at him, not me, though. Because I was bawling like a baby," Tyler said, looking down at the baby. "Actually, not even like a baby, he was way cooler than me."

"You were crying that much?" You asked. You knew, for sure, that he'd teared up.

"I was a mess," he said, "I'm so happy everyone was looking at him, it was really embarrassing."

You looked over at Tyler, who was now almost resting his head on your shoulder, watching the baby like you were.

"Don't say awe," he said, "Just don't, I'm fragile."

You laughed, and he rubbed his beard against your neck. "Seriously," he continued, "If I cry, then you're gonna cry, and then he's gonna cry, and then it's just gonna be chaos, so don't go 'awe' at me."

"Okay," you laughed, looking back down at the baby, "Awe, he's yawning."

"He's tired," Tyler said.

"But his eyes are open," you said.

"Yeah, what colour are they? Blue?"

"Yeah, but they might change," you said, watching as Tyler leaned over a little closer, and you watched the baby's hazy eyes just wavered in Tyler's general direction, and you could actually hear Tyler grin from your side.

"Who's that? Is that your ---?" You said to the baby, and then stopped, looking back at Tyler, "what do you want him to call you?"

"Uncle Ty-Ty," he answered without missing a beat.

"He is not calling you Uncle Ty-Ty,'" you scoffed.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not calling you Uncle Ty-Ty."

"Well, it's too late, him and me already talked about it."

"Him and I," you corrected.

"I thought you would be tired," Tyler laughed, pointing his finger towards you like he was going to poke you but couldn't quite decide where would be okay, so he just settled for booping you on the nose, and then he looked back at the baby. "Does he have a name yet?"

"Yes, he does," you smiled, turning to look at Tyler.

"Well, are you going to tell me?"

"Yes," you laughed, looking back at the baby, and then back at Tyler again, unable to keep the smiling off your face, "It's Bentley."

"Bentley?" he repeated.

"Yeah," you answered, moving your free hand up and down the baby's chest, but keeping your eyes focused on Tyler. "Bentley Tyler Y/L/N."

Tyler's face, with had previously been smiling, leaning towards the baby like he was trying to match the face with the name dropped in shock, and he stood up suddenly, taking a couple of steps back from the bed. "You're shitting me."

"No," you shook your head, laughing and smiling, and then you pointed over to the whiteboard, where his name was written, that Tyler clearly hadn't even noticed. "That's his name, Bentley Tyler. Do you like it?"

"Do I like it?" he whispered, his eyes already brimmed red, and then he blinked, and tears starts running down his face, and your heart went into your throat, your eyes filling too, but the smile remained on your face, and Tyler just shifted his weight back and forth between his feet. "Babe...." He said, like he was pleading with you, like he couldn't handle it or put into words how he felt, and you couldn't really handle it either. Like, you had expected his reaction just to be a big grin or something. But this was way better than you'd even imagined.

"He wouldn't be here without you," you said, "I can't ever begin to thank you. And you're, just, you're a part of him, so yeah."

And now Tyler smirked at you, just a little, "I did the fun part, though, you did all the work."

"I don't mean that," you said, "Well, obviously that. But the way you were there for me, when I was pregnant, and in labour, you were amazing, Tyler. Even before I got pregnant. I couldn't have done any of this without you."

"You're sure, though, like...?" he asked, and you laughed at how unprepared he was for all of this.

"Yes, I'm positive. 100%," you said, rocking the baby just a little, "I love his name so much."

"I love you guys so much," he said, stepping back towards you and hugging you, his hand going on your arm where you were holding the baby, and he placed a kiss to your forehead and you could feel just how wet his face was with tears and then he leaned down, kissing the baby's forehead, too, just over his hat, and then he stood back up, running his hands over his face and then through his hair, which only made him look like more of a mess, to be honest.

"Do you like the Bentley part, too?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's not as great as the Tyler part, that's my favourite, but it suits him, and it'd get a little confusing if you called him 'Tyler', too," he said, "Wait, is this why there's that 'B' pillow in his room?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I thought it stood for baby," he said, and you laughed, "Or blob. Aw, do you remember when he was just a little blob? And now he's got like arms, and legs, and toes. And fingers. It's so crazy. Like, we just fucked, and it made an actual human being, and he's cute. It's so crazy, you made that."

"Well, we did."

"No, I know, but you grew him so you get more credit," he said, "But, yeah, we did make that. We made a Bentley."

You laughed a little looking back at him, and then saw he was crying again, and he leaned forward into your neck, "Please don't tell anyone about this."

"Okay," you laughed, leaning your head against his because your hands were occupied.

"I think I need to be swaddled, and given a pacifier," he said, "I see now why you were crying all the time."

"Does this mean you'll stop making fun of me?"

"Nope," he quipped, smiling against you, and then he stood up from the bed when there was a soft knock at the door.

"Hi, I'm Allison, I'm a lactation consultant," she said, stepping forward towards you, and you just smiled at her because you had no hands free to shake hers. "How's he doing?"

"I think he's getting hungry," you said.

"Do you want to try to feed him in the chair?" she asked, and you agreed, letting her take Bentley and hand him over to Tyler so she could help you up, transfixed as you watched her gently pass him to Tyler and making sure that he had him, both of Tyler's arms held under the bundle like he was afraid to drop him, standing unmoving, just watching him the whole time, and she helped you stand up, you taking off your robe so you were just in your tank top before you sat down.

"Wow, you still look pregnant," Tyler said, and you both turned to look at him, however Allison looked much, much more shocked than you did. "Oh my god, I mean, you still look great, obviously, like, that's a given. I just wasn't expecting it, to be, like round, anymore, like I thought it'd look squishier, and like softer, that he was out? Like deflated? Wow, I really cannot talk. I am so sorry."

Allison continued to look absolutely mortified, while you were trying not to laugh, honestly. "My uterus has to contract back down, Tyler, that's why I still look pregnant."

"Ohhh...." he said, "That makes sense. I wasn't expecting you to go back to normal, like, you made a human being, your body is going to be different, not in a bad way, like..."

"I understand what you mean," you laughed, and he mouthed 'sorry' at you again, as the lactation consultant helped you get set up with a breastfeeding pillow and was asking you some more general questions about how breastfeeding had been going, and then you caught Tyler just starting at your bare chest and you gave him a look to warn him to keep his mouth shut, because you could tell that he was about to make a comment, probably about how big your nipples looked or something, until finally Tyler grinned and looked back down at the baby

"Could you bring him over here, please?" Allison asked.

"Uhh.." Tyler said, moving one foot forward as if he was going to walk over, but he never took a step, his arms still cradled around Bentley. "I kind of don't want to walk with him."

"Okay," she laughed under her breath, going over, and you wanted as Tyler ever so carefully handed him off. It was adorable, really, because his arms and hands were so big compared to the baby, and he seemed almost kind of awkward with him. She helped you get organized, and you tried to listen to her but you caught Tyler straight up staring at you, and you realized that, even though he'd been here when you fed the baby before, there'd been a lot of other people with you, and Tyler was in the corner of the room just there, not really watching like he was now, and you gave him a little look because you felt completely on display, and it didn't really feel as natural and beautiful as you thought it might feel yet, and you already had had gloved hands all over you, trying to help. Tyler blinked, and then tried to look put the window casually but the drapes were closed so he went over to open them, a little light brightening up the room even more, even though it was fairly overcast outside, looking like it might rain. Or snow, actually, both of which might kind of suck.

"Sorry, is that too bright for him?" Tyler whispered, and you shook your head.

"He's fine, why are you whispering?"

"She said he could get distracted easy when he's trying to eat," he whispered back, and then he briefly looked down, pointing towards you, laughing under his breath. "Hey, look how he's grabbing your tit."

"Tyler," you said through gritted teeth, just feeling the baby's hand resting on your chest as he fed.

He grimaced, already reaching for his zip-up. "I'm just gonna go grab something to eat, I'll be back in a bit."

You tried not to laugh, as you finished feeding him, and then he was sleeping on your chest as you were eating your breakfast with one hand when Tyler came back in the room, and smiled at you, tilting his head almost immediately to look at Bentley's asleep face, and then his phone followed.

"Does he look comfortable?"

"Yeah, he's all snuggled up," Tyler said, leaning over to show you the picture he'd just taken, and you couldn't get over the little wrinkle on the bridge of his nose he had when he slept. Tyler sat down on the bench, looking through something on his phone, and then he looked up at you. "Is it alright if I send a picture of him to my mom?"

"Yes," you said easily, slightly surprised he hadn't already.

"You're sure?" Tyler said, raising his eyebrows as he continued to look at his phone. "Because once she sees him, she'll probably be begging to come visit."

"She can come visit," you said, taking a bite of your oatmeal.

"Really?" Tyler asked, and now you realized he'd been joking. "Aren't you tired?"

"Yeah, but I don't care," you said, "she's coming to see him, not me, and I can barely get any sleep anyways, because they're in here to check on me or him every hour anyways. If she wants to come see him, she can."

"Okay," Tyler said, typing on his phone.

"Just maybe tell her in the afternoon? They're gonna give him a bath, and he has to go get some tests done."

"Tests?" Tyler asked, "What kind of tests?"

"They're just routine tests, like to get his hearing tested and stuff, and they screen for certain things."

"Oh, okay."

"Do you want to go with him?" you asked, "They don't want me to walk around much yet, and I think someone's going to come help me shower when he's gone." You looked at Tyler hopefully, knowing it was kind of a big ask, but it kind of broke your heart to think about him going alone. And Bentley pretty much knew Tyler as much as he did you.

"Umm..what do I have to do?"

"Nothing, you just have to take him there, and just stay with him."

"Do I have to hold him while I walk?" Tyler asked, looking at you like that might be a problem.

"No, he can just go in there," you said, nodding towards the plastic bassinet, "they just push him. You don't have to do anything, there's gonna be a nurse there. Just stand there and keep an eye on him? Since I can't."

"Sure, that's no problem."

"Can you make sure that you keep on eye on him at all times? Please?" You weren't entirely sure why, because everybody in the hospital had been so great, but you just had these kind of irrational fears, that he might get scared and not know anyone around him. Or that he could somehow get lost, and you had this vision of Tyler somehow looking at his phone for a split second, only for the baby to be rolled off somewhere.

"I will," he said, "I promise."

"Okay, good," you said, rubbing your free hand up and down Bentley's back before you went back to your breakfast.

"It's hard to look at anything other than him when he's in a room, anyways."

"Yeah," you breathed, feeling the weight of him against you. "He has to get a needle." You whispered the last word over his head, like you didn't want him to hear it. Which was really a big reason why you didn't want to go with him, otherwise you probably would make them take you. "To get his blood tested."

"Oh, he'll be fine, babe," Tyler said, and you gave him a rather doubtful look. "You had to get an I.V. which is way worse than a blood test, and you were fine. He's gonna be tough like his mama."

"He's just a little baby though."

"He'll be okay, I'll hold his hand," Tyler said, tilting his head a little, "it's gonna be worse for you then it is for him, you know."

"I know."

"I get it, though, I was so freaked out cutting his cord."

"What? Why?"

"Because I thought it was going to hurt him," Tyler said, looking at you curiously, "You didn't hear me asking the nurse?"

You shook your head "no".

"Yeah, he kind of freaks me out a little bit," Tyler said, "Not that he's freaky, just that I don't want to do anything that's gonna make him upset. I'll let the doctors and nurses be the bad guys, and I'll just cuddle him."

"That's the best part," you said.

"Mhmmm..." Tyler agreed, leaning in closer towards the baby, "I'm gonna cuddle with you, and play with you, and buy you cool stuff, and let you do whatever you want. And if your Mom is being mean to you and not letting you do cool stuff, you can come stay with your Uncle Ty-Ty and we'll work together to get her to change the rules. Because sometimes she gets a little crazy."

"Tyler," you laughed.

"Shhh..." he said towards you, resting his head above the baby's, "The Tyler's are talking."

You laughed, and then you were forced to pretend that you were looking out the window and not listening into their conversation. After that, a nurse came in to give Bentley his first bath, which you made Tyler record on your phone, which mostly consisted of him being laid out on a towel by the sink as he was given a sponge bath, which he was really not happy about at all, to which Tyler just looked at you and mouthed the word "mean" pointing towards the nurse. He did, however, seem to enjoy having his hair rinsed under the sink, and then you were enticed to want to kick Tyler because he made a comment to Bentley that he should keep any girls he finds who are willing to give him a bath like that. After that, you went to go shower while Tyler and Bentley went off to get his tests done, and you were sitting back in bed, watching T.V. when Tyler came back in, pushing Bentley in the bassinet in front of him until he was next to your bed again, and you couldn't quite tell if he was hanging his head or just looking at the baby.

"That was awful," Tyler said, and you sat up a little, trying to look at the baby, "He's fine, he's sleeping." He was, too, all wrapped up with a pacifier in his mouth. It seemed clichéd to say, but he really did look angelic.

"What happened?"

"Oh, his hearing's fine, by the way," he said, "But they took this needle, and they pricked his heel, and then they were like rubbing his little foot to get blood out of it."

"Did he cry?" you asked, already getting up to pick up the baby. You knew, probably, that you shouldn't wake a sleeping baby, but you couldn't help it, you really just needed to hold him. Luckily, he only stirred just a little, but you rocked him a little and he settled, and you suspected he was probably really tired, both from his bath and his little outing.

"Yes, a little," Tyler said, and then he came back over to the bed where you were now sitting with the baby, coming to sit next to you and he looked like he just wanted to rest his head on your chest but the he reconsidered, leaning into your shoulder. "I really didn't like it."

"Did you cry?"

"No, but I wanted to, I was trying to keep it together for him," he said, and you just kind of all laid there for a minute, the sound of the television on in the background. "They gave me this, I don't know why."

You looked down to see that Tyler was holding his wrist, with a hospital bracelet wrapped around it, next to yours.

"Oh, that's just to say that you can stay with him," you said, "He's got one, too, in case he gets too close to the doors."

"What?" Tyler asked, "How is he going to get to the doors? He's a baby."

"If someone took him," you said, "All the babies have alarms, it's a security thing."

"People steal babies?" Tyler asked, sitting up now, his voice a little loud, and then he seemed to realize the baby was sleeping, but you didn't really think anything would wake him up right now.

"Unfortunately, sometimes, yeah," you said, "It just makes sure he's safe, it's a precaution. They just usually put bracelets on the baby, and the mom and the dad."

"Oh," Tyler said, and was quiet for a moment, and then he said, "Do you think that I might get in trouble for being with him because I'm not actually his Dad?"

"No," you said, "That's why they gave you the bracelet, so they know it's okay."

"But the papers?" he asked, tracing his fingers over the blankets.

"The papers don't matter, Tyler, they're just for legal reasons, they're not to keep you away from being with him, you're still part of his family."

"No, I know, I know what it's like at home, I just didn't know in the hospital, like if I did a thing with him that Dads normally do that I'd get in trouble. "

"No," you laughed a little, "that's not how it works. Like, if you weren't here, then my mom would be, and she would go with him, and they'd give her a bracelet."

"So it's just for who you say can be with him if you're not there, but I don't have to, like, make decisions for him or anything?"

"Yes," you said. "Like, if you didn't have that bracelet, they wouldn't let you bring him back to the room by yourself, someone would come with you."

"So you knew that I wouldn't steal him?" Tyler said, a little smile on his face.

"Well, you can't take him out of the ward anyways, I can't even yet because he's not ready to leave the hospital."

"I still could have taken him cruising to look and see if there are any girl babies around. While his mom isn't watching."

"Tyler," you laughed.

"I couldn't handle that, I was just trying to get him back to you as fast as possible without banging him into stuff."

You laughed, because he was seriously so concerned about being too much for the baby, and it was seriously cute, and you could just imagine him white knuckling the edge of the bassinet And you loved, seriously loved, the way he wasn't trying to hide from you just how unsure he felt. Or how emotional he'd been.

"I think they want me to try and walk a little bit later in the hallways, so we can all go."

"Yeah, I think it's better that you're there anyways, in case something goes wrong with him, because I don't know what to do if he cries," Tyler said, and then you heard his phone beep from his pocket. "My mom's here, I'm gonna go get her, okay?"

"Yeah," You smiled, watching as he got up. You were vaguely aware that you had no makeup on and probably looked exhausted, your hair already having gone back into a top knot after your shower, but you didn't really care, and you knew she would understand. You could hear their voices in the hallway, and then you Tyler opened the door back up, stepping in and looking back at his mom, who had a gift bag in her hands, as if he wanted to see her reaction.

"Hi," she said, in a hushed voice, smiling, taking a couple of steps into the room, and Tyler shut the door behind her. "I won't stay for long, just wanted to come say hi."

"Thank you," you said, "He's sleeping right now." You turned the bundle towards her, letting her know that it was okay to come closer.

"Oh, he's beautiful," Jackie said, setting the gift bag she had in her hands down on the foot of the bed, taking her glasses on then off, like she couldn't decide which was the better way to see him. "Congratulations."

"What are you doing?" Tyler laughed, "Just look at him like a normal person."

You both ignored her, bouncing the baby a little, and she hugged you gently and as much as she could while you were holding the baby. "This is Bentley."

"Aw, that's perfect," she said, "Hi Bentley."

"Guess what his middle name is, Mom?" Tyler asked, "It's a name you really, really like."

"What's that?"

"Tyler," Tyler said, and he looked so, so happy. "His name is Bentley Tyler Y/L/N."

"Really?" she asked, looking at you, and you just smiled and nodded, trying to take in her looking at the baby.

"Did you want to hold him?" you asked.

"Yeah, of course, just let me wash my hands first," she said, going into the bathroom, and Tyler came back over towards you, leaning in.

"Sorry, was it okay that I told her?"

"Yeah," you said, softly back, "I wanted you to tell her."

"Okay, good," Tyler said, and Jackie came back from watching her hands, and you lifted the baby up slightly towards her, while she bent down to pick him up. "Careful of his neck, Mom, you gotta support his head," Tyler said, and you laughed a little, "Wait, you know what to do, never mind."

You laughed again, watching Jackie rock a little back and forth with Bentley, her eyes transfixed on him. "Oh, he's perfect, he's so perfect."

You couldn't really say anything, because it was true. "I know."

"I thought he was gonna be weird looking, but he's really cute."

"Why did you think he was going to be weird looking?" Jackie laughed.

"Because Y/N said he might be weird looking when he came out, but he looked so cute," Tyler said, and you both laughed.

"How are you feeling, honey?" Jackie asked, breaking her eyes away from Bentley for just a moment.

"Alright, I'm okay."

"Tyler said you were in labour for a long time."

"Yeah, I was," you said, "I had really bad back labour, too. But it's okay, it was worth it."

"Yeah," Jackie smiled, looking down at Bentley again, "they kind of do that, don't they?"

"She did so good though, Mom, you should have seen her She was like, " Tyler said, pointing to his eyes, "So focused. And strong. And she didn't ever swear."

"He did really good, too," you said, nodding towards Tyler, and he looked kind of bashful.

"No, you did," he said, "It was so badass, she was completely badass. All moms are badass."

"You can open that, Y/N," Jackie said, nodding towards the gift bag she'd put on the bed.

"You didn't have to get me anything," you said, "You already did."

"Yeah, but you just had a baby," she said, "it's just a little something."

"I can open it if you don't want it," Tyler said, and you rolled your eyes slightly, pulling the package towards you, and pulling out the tissue paper on top.

"Those are for you," she said, as you pulled out a box of chocolates, tied with some drinking chocolate mixes on top.

"Oooh," you said, "I didn't even realize, but I so want hot chocolate. These smell so good, too, thank you."

"Just make sure to hide them from Tyler," Jackie joked.

"Just tell me what ones you want and I'll save them for you," Tyler said, and you rolled your eyes, smiling at the same time as you set them down on the bed. You reached back in, pulling out a pair of little striped socks that had stuffed puppy dogs on the top of the foot.

"Oh, are these rattles?" you asked, hearing them as you moved them.

"Yeah, aren't they cute?"

"So cute," you agreed, standing up to look in your bag, "it'll go so perfect with his going home outfit, the one Tyler got for him."

You showed her the black and white labrador retriever printed leggings and hat, and then stood behind her, looking over at Bentley, who was still sleeping soundly and looked very comfortable in her arms.

"Do you know when you'll get to go home?"

"I think tomorrow, they said, as long as him and I are still okay," you said, reaching over and lifting Bentley's little hat up, just a bit. "He's got a lot of hair."

"He does, yeah," she said.

"I need to get my mom to bring me some mittens for him, too, his nails were long so he keeps scratching his face," you said, running the top of your finger over his cheek. "His toes are really long, too, he's got Tyler's toes."

You unfurled the blanket out from under him until you got one foot free, and Jackie immediately laughed. "Yeah, those are Tyler's."

"You guys, don't make fun of our feet," Tyler whined.

"They're cute," the two of you said in unison. "On him," you added, and Tyler stuck his tongue out at you.

"There's one more thing in there for him, Y/N," she said nodding towards the gift bag once more. She had an interesting look on her face, like she was trying hard to hold back a smile, and you could tell just how keen she was for you to open it.

"Guess how long he was, Mom?" Tyler asked.

"How long?"

"19 inches," Tyler said, raising his eyebrows, "He knew he was 19 inches long, so that's why he decided he had to come out, even though it would have been cool for him to be born on the nineteenth."

You barked out a laugh, coming back to sit down on the side of the bed.

"He was 9 pounds, 1 ounce, too," Tyler added.

"He was not 9 pounds!"

"Shhhh..."

You shook your head, reaching into the bag to grab the last item, pulling out a brown stuffed dog, which looked so cuddly and wrinkly, and loved.

"That was Tyler's," Jackie said. "I got it cleaned and fixed up a little bit."

"Oh," you said, pulling it to your chest, tears already starting to come to your eyes. "You're sure you want him to have it?"

"Yeah, of course, honey."

"But what about.....?"

What about if Tyler had more children?

Jackie just shook her head, "That's for him."

Your hand, which had been at your chest went to your face as your face broke. "That's so special. Thank you."

"Okay, don't cry on it," Tyler said, taking it away from you, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you towards his mom, enveloping you both in a hug, and you laughed a little, sniffing at the same time, Tyler's hand rubbing up and down your back, even after you broke away from the hug. "See? Now he can sleep with this instead of Cash's goose. And you can tell him it used to be his Uncle Ty-Ty's "

"Goose?" You asked, "It's a duck."

Tyler pulled away from you, laughing. "It's a goose, are you crazy? I bought it, it said it was a goose."

"Well, they lied because it's clearly a duck," you laughed

"Well, you're wrong."

"I said it was a duck yesterday and you didn't correct me."

"Because you were in labour, I was trying to be nice," he said, "also, you were a little out of it, so I thought you just said the wrong word by mistake. But clearly not."

"Okay, if you think that's a goose..."

"Okay, Mom," Tyler said, picking up the offending toy. "What is this?"

And you could see her eyes flicking back and forth. "I don't know, Tyler."

"You're supposed to take my side."

"So you do know you're wrong," you quipped, to which Tyler looked dismayed.

"I'll take your side, and then Bentley will take her side," she said, to which Tyler laughed.

True to her promise, she left not soon after that, and you watched T.V. for a little longer and tried to get some rest while Bentley was still sleeping, and then Tyler had to leave to go for a team dinner, while your mom brought you dinner. She'd offered to go home and grab some stuff for the night to stay with you, and you'd taken her up on the offer, realizing you'd feel better having someone with you. It wasn't soon after she left, however, that Tyler came walking back in.

"Hey," you said, "you can't stay for very long, visitor hours are almost over."

"Can't I just stay here?"

"Well, my mom was going to."

"So you don't want me to?" Tyler asked, coming over to take a chocolate from the box you had open now on the table, next to the flowers your aunt had sent you.

"No, I didn't say that," you said, "but don't you have a game tomorrow?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So, we're not gonna get any sleep."

"Yeah, I know, I can take a nap before the game, it's fine," Tyler said, "And you know I was planning to spend tonight at you house with you, anyways,but you're not there, so the hospital it is."

"You're sure though?" You asked, "I'm not going to be upset if you leave, you've already been here most of the day."

"I'm sure," Tyler said,"if you make me leave, then I'm going to be sad. And you know I can't play hockey when I'm sad."

"Okay," you laughed.

"Your mom can still come though."

"No, I think," you started, "I think I'll see if she just wants to stay home. She's not really going to be getting much sleep while she's staying with me. She should rest while she can."

Thankfully, you called your mom and she agreed with this plan, while Tyler set up Grey's Anatomy on the T.V., and then he started trying to crawl into bed with you.

"Tyler," you laughed, "I don't think you're supposed to be in here with me."

"Five minutes," he said.

"There's not enough room."

"Sure there is."

"Tyler, I have stitches, be careful."

Now he grimaced, getting up and going over to the recliner chair, pushing it closer to the side of your bed, so your heads would be mostly right by each other, Bentley in his bassinet closer to the middle of the bed, and Tyler's legs would be on the other side once he reclined the chair into a bed. And then he extended his hand out, resting his arm on your leg, "I guess we'll just have to cuddle like this then."

And so you did,, usually holding either Tyler's hand or Bentley, except for when you had to grab another chocolate.

And it felt really nice. And cozy, especially when you could see a little snow falling, illuminated by the street light, and Tyler made you hot chocolate to sip on as you watched your show together.

Just the three of you.

#wont go slowly #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #Tyler Seguin #Hockey Fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagines #hockey imagine

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shawnsorangeglasses · 6 years ago

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Love’s Camisado - (bartender!shawn au)

.i’m enjoying the idea of Shawn being a bartender (i guess that’s his second job now idk i dig it) nobody asked for this but 🎶i don’t care🎶 3.3k words

warnings: some strong language, drinking, minor fluff at the end, and a guy who can’t hear “no”

...

Dina was still getting over a breakup that’s had her stuck in this weird state of depression for about a week now. So I called her on Friday and said we were going out on Saturday, deliberately eliminating no as an option. My homework was finished and I was ahead of schedule for once and I figured this is as good a time as any to leave my dorm for once. Fully intending on staying sober for the night, I put on the most casual outfit I could find and start packing supplies.

I almost look like a soccer mom, waiting for Dina to show up at the club doors. I had a drawstring bag full of baby wipes, snacks, water, a spare case of makeup, band-aids, some ibuprofen for her potential hangover, and whatever I normally carry every day. This is a list I’ve made over years of knowing Dina and her nightly habits. The usual pattern is she’ll get drunk off her ass and either I’ll take her home or she’ll go home with whichever guy or girl and I’ll rescue her tomorrow morning.

Our region was starting catch wind of some colder weather so I decide to drive to the bar. I didn’t wear anything more than a pair of leggings, t-shirt, and a denim jacket. She meets me just outside the doors of the Lotus Pool club around 7:00 PM. This is where most college students come on the weekend. My muted outfit bears a striking contrast to Dina’s glittery green cocktail dress. Business is perfectly slow at this time so we get in without a problem. It’s only when the sun goes down that a line starts to form.

Once inside, I immediately scan the room for Shawn, our favorite bartender. He’s also going to college with us but this is where we always come to see him on the weekend. I guess I’d call him a friend, but this is kind of the only place we really interact other than the few times I see him on campus. We went to the same high school but our circles never crossed.

He’s alternating between serving the few regulars and tidying up the behind the bar when we walk in. Dina and I quietly sneak while his back is turned. “Shawn!,” we both shout and he turns with a start. His face slowly melts into a warm smile when he realizes it’s just us.

“Hi ladies,” he says sheepishly. “You both look lovely. How are you holding up Dina?”

“Better,” Dina says with a sigh. “I didn’t need Tess anyway. I’m finding myself a new squeeze tonight, count on it. Can I have the strongest, fruitiest drink you know how to make? Surprise me.”

“Of course, honey,” He takes a red bottle from the shelf then turns to me. “Are you having anything tonight (Y/N)?”

“No sir, I am driving. But thank you anyways.” Shawn nods and continues to make Dina’s drink. She’s such a lightweight, she’s tipsy within minutes. Soon, people start to roll in and situate themselves at the bar, forming a decent crowd. There aren’t a lot of students out tonight as midterm exams are just around the corner.

“If there’s any way I can help in tonight’s quest for love, please don’t hesitate to ask,” Shawn says before heading off to serve his next patron.

A few hours go by and I’m watching the room carefully from the comfort of my bar stool. Dina’s gone off to mingle so Shawn makes conversation with me whenever he can, sometimes even while he’s mixing.

At one point he asks me, “When are you gonna find yourself a “squeeze,’ (Y/N)?”

“I don’t know. I’m not actively searching for anything but I’m sending every offer away either. The thing is I’m not getting any offers.”

“You know it might help to actually go outside more,” he teases me. “That’s where all the people are.

“Don’t come for me, Mendes. I go out. Sometimes.”

He gives me a side eye while topping off another tray of shots. “Going to and from class doesn’t count.”

Some guy suddenly comes up and sits right next to me, despite the abundance of empty stools and single girls at the bar. “Hey, can I buy you a drink?”

“No thanks, I’m driving home tonight,” I say firmly.

He briefly touches my leg. “Come on, one drink won’t hurt.” I tense up.

“Dude, I told you I’m driving. I’m not having a drink.” I search down the line for Shawn. He’s busy with about three other people’s drinks at the moment but briefly makes eye contact.

“Well can I at least get your name?,” he asks. “I feel like I’ve seen you around campus.”

“(Y/N),” I say carefully, as if my name is made of glass.

“Wow, that’s beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he says with a toothy grin. He’s cute I guess, but he’s frat boy cute, and that’s suspicious. They have quite the reputation around here. “What are you doing after this?,” he asks, scooting closer.

He’s not even listening to me. “I just told you I’m driving. Home probably.” Something tells me not to include Dina in this conversation. I then remember to check for her. She’s in a booth, seemingly cozied up with what seems like a nice girl.

“What do I have to do to get you to come home with me?”

Before he can lay another weak-ass line on me, Shawn appears. “Hey man, can I get you anything?,” he asks, quite aggressively.

The guy immediately says no and fades away into the crowd. I turn to Shawn, eyes wide and mouth agape. He raises his eyebrows at me in response.

“Did you see that shit?,” I yell over the noise.

“I did. I was trying to get back over here. Do you want me to have him removed?”

“No, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

Shawn purses his lips at me and leans in closer. “I know ‘fine’ is girls’ code word for ‘not fine,’ (Y/N).”

“I mean it this time. He’s not worth the trouble, honest.”

He checks his watch, “Well my break starts now. I think I’ll sit and talk with you. Maybe deflect some more creeps.”

Shawn makes his way around the bar, a tiny carton of peanuts in hand, and sits next to me. He smells great as usual. Like soap and high-end cologne. We somehow end up back on the topic of my love life again. This time I switch it up on him.

“You know you’re always telling me how I need a date. What about you?,” I ask.

“I’m busy here and at school,” he squeaks defensively. “I don’t have the time or social skills to get a girlfriend right now.”

“Maybe in theory. All I’m saying is it shouldn’t be that hard for someone who looks the way you look.”

“Ever think that it’s maybe because I already have my eye on someone?”

“Really?” He nods, but it’s a solemn one. “Why so sad? Have you talked to her?”

He slips another peanut past his lips. “Yeah, but she doesn’t feel that way towards me.” The way he tilts his head allows a few errant curls to fall into his eye.

“Who wouldn’t feel that way about you Shawn? Look at you!” He actually has the audacity to laugh while shaking his head. There’s no doubt he’s a dreamboat with his brains and impossible good looks. All the girls on campus fawn over him.

“By that logic, it makes no sense for you to be single either,” he shoots back. I try to think of something witty to say before he can see me blush but I can’t and just go back to shelling my peanut.

“Exactly! It takes a little more than being hot, doesn’t it?”

“Whatever, Mendes. You always say embarrassing things like that. Whoever this girl is, I say you should just go ahead and shoot your shot.”

“Yeah right. I think I’d rather be shot.” I choke on my peanut.

“I don’t get it. What do you have to lose?”

That familiar grin extends across his face, amused at my lack of understanding. He simply says, “Probably everything.”

Shawn’s break ends and he’s back behind the bar again. I continue to talk to him though after most of the people there reach their legal limit and he has to slow down consumption. We spend most of the night people-watching together.

Just as I thought, that girl Dina was previously curled up with ended up becoming her impromptu date for the night. She meets me at the bar again around 11:20 and introduces her to me. I swear at first glance they seem perfect for each other, unlike when she was with Tess.

“This is Cristina,” she says with a little slur on her speech. “Rhymes with Dina. She also did not consume the alcohols tonight, so she will be driving me home.”

“I was here on an assignment,” said a clearly not drunk Cristina. She held up a tiny sketchbook. “Had to draw a nightclub scenery.” She’s a very gorgeous girl, with a periwinkle colored pixie cut and big brown eyes. Definitely Dina’s type.

“Oh okay, well it’s nice to meet you Cristina,” I say with a shake of her hand. “I think you’ll like Dina. She’s just as charismatic when she’s sober.” I turn back to Dina. “Hey, look at me. Call me when you get home. Okay?” She holds two thumbs up in front of her goofy grin.

I walk them out and say goodnight, reminding Dina to call me for a second time and thanking Cristina again for driving her. I make my way back inside and across the now thinning dance floor and back over to the bar. Shawn’s polishing glasses when I meet his eyes with mine again.

“I think Dina’s taken care of for the night,” I say as I sit back down.

“I never saw that guy leave,” he says. His serious tone catches my attention. “Are you going to be okay getting home?”

“Um,” I look around the bar. Frat boy isn’t anywhere in sight. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Well listen, my shift is over in like ten minutes. Can you wait until then so I can walk you to your car?”

“Sure. Let me just freshen up real quick.”

I make beeline for the women’s restroom and find myself strangely on edge the moment I enter. Empty beer bottles and cans litter the countertop. I take a quick look at myself in the mirror, making a few adjustments to my hair. Then the stall behind me opens up. That guy from earlier steps out, clearly sloshed with the most disgusting smirk on his face. “Thought I’d find you in here sooner or later, beautiful.”

He gets close enough to grab my wrist, definitely bruising it and tries to kiss me. I instantly snatch one of the beer bottles left in here and smash it against the countertop, quickly making a weapon. He lets me go, leaving my wrist red and sore. I’m panting like a wild animal.

Shawn comes barreling in seconds later I assume because he heard the glass breaking. He looks more than stressed. “Are you okay?,” he huffs.

“Never been better,” I say, never taking my eyes off frat boy.

The worry in his eyes swiftly turns to rage when he recognizes the guy from earlier. “Dude, just fucking leave,” says Shawn. “Don’t bother coming back here either.”

The guy slinks past him and out the door. I drop the bottle, feeling my body start to shake all over. My hands grip onto the sink for, desperate for stability. Shawn rushes to my side and wraps his arms around me. I’ve never hugged him before but this better than I imagined it. “I’m definitely taking you home. There’s no way in hell.”

“S-sorry about the mess,” I stammer. My chest feels unbelievably tight and I have to push him back just to breathe. His hands never leave my skin.

“Don’t worry I can get it cleaned up tomorrow on my morning shift. Let’s just get back to the dorms.”

Shawn is quick to get me back to my dorm room. The whole car ride there is short and quiet. Never having been in Shawn’s jeep, I take this chance to learn a little more about him. It’s cluttered, but clean. I can see some clothes is the back seat and a few schoolbooks on the floor. As we get closer to my building I fish my key card out of my pocket. He parks as close as possible to the door and he’s about to open his door before he realizes I still haven’t moved yet.

“You okay?,” he asks. That’s when the tears start to fall and I have to turn away so he can’t see. Then one loud sniffle makes it very obvious that I’m crying.

Shawn reaches over the console, embracing me again. I feel stupid for crying on his white sweater like this. “It’s okay,” he mumbles into my hair. “I wish I’d caught him go in there. I should’ve been paying better attention.”

“No you’re always paying attention. It’s not your fault.” I pull away first, feeling more than embarrassed now. “I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t say that. You protected yourself. Rather impressively, might I add. We can go report him tonight if you want.”

“I don’t even know his name. No, I just want to go to sleep.” I open my door and step out. Shawn follows closely behind as I approach the dormitory entrance. We take a beat, standing out there in the cool evening air. I check the time on my phone and it’s almost curfew. My hands are still shaking. Shawn casts his 6′3″ shadow over me and takes my cold hands into his large warm ones. His thumb traces circles over the bruise that was now forming on my wrist. I slowly started to feel okay again. More than okay actually.

“S’okay, relax. You’re safe now. God, I just-- are you going to be okay staying here tonight? Maybe you should go home.” He knows that my roommates have all gone home this weekend.

“No. My mom will just have questions and I don’t want her to worry or storm the campus tomorrow.”

Shawn’s about to scan his keycard when I stop him again. “Actually, could you stay with me? Just for tonight.”

His eyes widen a little, “You sure?”

I swallow hard. “I feel like he might know where I live.”

We take the elevator up to my floor in comfortable silence. When we reach my room I get a text from Dina.

[ im in love gn ]

I smile and show Shawn. “At least one of us is having a good night,” I murmur then unlock my door.

I head directly towards my room, kicking my shoes off, slipping out of my jacket, and flopping face down on my bed. I hear the soft thud of Shawn’s boots stop at my doorway. “I guess I’ll take the couch. You wouldn’t happen to have an extra pillow would you?”

“No,” I say patting the space next to me. “Just come lay right here.”

He moves with reluctance and sits down like the the bed will crumble underneath him. Then he lays down with even more caution, scooting closer until our noses are a only few inches apart. His legs still hang off the bed.

I roll onto my side. “You still smell like peanuts,” I whisper.

“So do you,” he whispers back.

My eyes wander around Shawn’s face this being the first time I’ve actually seen him this close. He has the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a boy before. That divot in his right cheek is more prominent in this proximity. I gently brush at it with my thumb.

“Shaving accident when I was little,” his mumbles.

“Of course.”

“Can I tell you something,” he blurts. I pull my hand away from his face. “You remember when I was telling you about that girl I liked?”

“You don’t have to tell me who she is.”

“I do if that girl is you.”

I wait for him to say “nah I’m kidding,” like he always does when he says something sarcastic or even remotely flirty. When he doesn’t, I prop myself up on my elbows. “Are you being serious right now?”

“A hundred percent, being serious right now.”

I’m honestly paralyzed. No one’s ever told me that before and meant it. My mind goes completely blank.

“Don’t just stare at me like that (Y/N),” he says, snapping me out of it. “You gotta say something.”

“What do I even say? I never came to terms with how I feel about you. I-- I gave up on that a long time ago.”

Shawn sits up so we’re at eye level again. Even while laying down, he’s still so much larger than me. I feel small in my own bed. His eyes catch a glint of the moonlight coming in through my window as they wander around my face only to settle on my mouth. “Okay, well, how do you feel right now?”

“Right now?” I allow his lips to steal my attention for a second. “Right now I feel like kissing you.”

“Are you waiting for an invitation?”

“Are you?”

He leans in, beckoning me to come closer. I meet him halfway, touching my nose to his. Shawn’s lips brush onto mine and it feels like an electric current is buzzing through my entire body, melting me from the inside out. I close my eyes just as his warm mouth gently presses into mine. Every inch of my skin heightens in sensitivity making me jump a little when Shawn puts his fingers on my neck. He’s slow and soft at first, but gradually gets hungrier as we go on, moving his hand to my waist to pull me closer until I’m practically on top of him. His thigh breaks the space between mine causing my hips to accidentally buck a little. The smile he makes against my lips lets me know he noticed.

It was like a movie, probably better, and I can feel myself slowly start to lose control. His tongue pushes past my lips and massages the threshold of my mouth tentatively. I dig my nails into the fabric of his shirt on his sides. This must do something to make him moan and that sound alone nearly pushes me over the edge. I pull away, hot and panicked. My arms are so numb I struggle to even sit up at first.

“A-are you okay,” Shawn asks. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, everything’s fine.” I cover my face. “I just felt a little out of control.”

Shawn inhales sharply and runs his hand through his hair then settles it on the back of his neck. “Should I go?”

“No! I mean no, I’m okay. Maybe we should stop this though, just for now.”

He bites his lip again but something feels different about watching him do it this time as opposed to the many other times I’ve seen him bite his lip. Maybe it’s how unkempt his hair looks now. I nibble at the inside of my cheek to bring myself back down to Earth.

“Well you asked me to keep you company for tonight. I still intend on doing that if you want me to.”

I do want him to stay, but not just for the original reasons anymore. We lay back down on my bed again, comfortably uncomfortable in this new atmosphere between us. The expression on his face is so tranquil. He looks younger in this light. I can feel blood rushing to my cheeks the longer I look at him. I switch my attention to my duvet. Shawn’s arms reach out to pull me into his chest, engulfing me in muscles and the scent of high-end cologne. I’ve never slept so soundly before.

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction

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writingsbychelle · 7 years ago

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Get Ready For The Teasing

Summary: Getting drunk at another Supernatural convention you find yourself in the bed of your co-star, Alexander Calvert, the next day.

Pairing: Alex Calvert x Reader

Request: by @patrickstumpownsmyass

Warnings: uhhhh...mentions of alcohol and pranking

Word Count: 2.043

“And now please welcome the baby on our show. She’s been part of the cast since she was a child and now, several years later, she’s a grown up and-“

“Woah, calm down, Rob, you’re just gonna end up crying... Please give a round of applause for (Y/F/N)!”

The audience erupted into laughter while clapping their hands as you stepped onto the stage, giving Richard and Rob a quick hug before sitting down on one of the stools, Jared and Jensen to your left and Alex and Misha to your right. You slightly raised your hand, waving at the people in front of you before Alex handed you a microphone, a teasing smile on his face since he knew how often you tended to forget grabbing one. Sending a grateful smile in his direction you turned to the first person that was waiting to ask a question.

Several minutes and questions later you were laughing while Alex told his story about Jared’s prank on him during a scene in which he was supposed to act sad and emotional but Jared ended up playing porn on the laptop he had placed before him.

“So yea, that was pretty embarrassing…what was the second part of your question again?” Alex asked politely after telling his story.

“I was wondering if anyone has taken a pity in you yet with all the pranking going on,” the girl giggled.

“Oh, yea, mostly Misha and (Y/N). I think Misha mainly because he knows what I’m going through and (Y/N) because she feels bad for me…”

“I gotta say I only started feeling bad for you after that porn prank. Before that, I was secretly helping them prank you.”

You sheepishly looked up at your close friend, his mouth opening in shock before he turned and deadpanned at the audience.

“Do you guys see what I have to deal with every day?” he asked in fake horror before you clasped a hand over his mouth.

“Oh shush, you like it, you just don’t want to admit it,” you winked at him, some of the fans hollering at the two of you, being used to your flirty back and forth.

“Alex clearly enjoys it or he wouldn’t constantly hang out with you.”

The fans freaked out even more after Jensen said those words, heat radiating off your cheeks since he kind of revealed how much time Alex and you actually spend together off set.

If you were to say you didn’t have a crush on the Canadian actor would’ve been a lie, you were head over heels in love with him and there was no way denying it. You just had no clue how to act on those feelings, not wanting to ruin your friendship and make things awkward on set but you also desperately wanted to be with him. However, for the sake of your friendship and to keep things comfortable you stayed silent, only keeping the flirting going on between the two of you.

“Anyways,” you cleared your throat and turned to the other side of the big room, “next question? What’s your name, darling?”

“Hi, my name is April and I was just wondering how you’re dealing with having someone close to your age on set now, (Y/N)?”

“Hello, April,” you smiled at the young woman before your eyes drifted away slightly to think about her question.

“She loves it.”

Your head wiped towards Alex, a smirk on his lips and a smug look covering his face.

“You know what? I hate it,” you turned to the audience, acting like working with the young man was the worst thing you ever had to endure.

“No, but all jokes aside, it’s nice having someone close to your age on set. I mean Rob already said it while introducing me, I’ve been on this show when I was basically still a child and nearly everyone else on the cast is married and has kids so you sometimes feel a bit left out even though I know it’s no one's intention. But since Alex joined the cast it’s a lot nicer because he actually gets what I’m talking about and we do hang out a lot. And now that he’s also joining us at cons it’s even better, I mean look at how good he’s doing for his first convention!”

The fans broke out in loud cheering as Alex put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him which only spurred the fans on even more.

“Alright, last question, guys. I know, I know, it’s sad but we’ll be back soon, promise.” Richard walked towards the right side of the stage and pointed at the guy standing there, prompting him to ask his question.

“Hey guys, my question for you is: Are there any rituals you have at conventions, anything you’re repeating at every one? Sorry for excluding you in my question, Alex.”

“It’s alright, man. I’ll have plenty of time to get into some routines and thanks to your question I get to find out what these guys do all the time.”

You felt a pair of eyes on you and as you turned away from your crush you saw Misha looking at you with a mischievous twinkling in his eyes.

“No, Misha, please,” you shook your head at the older man, not speaking in the microphone as you begged him to not release your unhealthy habit.

“You know…(Y/N) here as probably the best habit out of all of us and let me tell you, it’ll completely twist your image of her…” Misha turned to you as you looked down on the ground, mentally preparing yourself for the following words.

“Do you wanna tell them or should I?”

Looking up you saw at least a shimmer of sympathy on his face so you decided just tell everyone yourself.

“Let me, I can at least make it seem less embarrassing. Okay, so…please don’t judge me for this guys, I know very well it’s everything but healthy. Alright so basically, at every convention, on the last evening we all go and get some drinks and I somehow developed a habit of getting…yea of getting shit-faced drunk. There’s no other way to say it. But I’m lucky enough to never really get a hangover, I just need something to eat and a bit of water and I’m fine and my lovely”- you shot Jensen, Jared and Misha teasing look -“friends always take care of me if I end up not feeling that well or anything.”

“We do take care of her, guys. She’s like a little sister to us,” Jared rested his arms on your shoulders, emphasising on ‘little’ since you were significantly smaller than him. Then again, everyone looked small compared to the literal giant.

Hours later you were sat at the bar of the hotel, laughing, talking and mostly drinking with your friends.

“And here I thought you were an absolute lightweight,” Alex chuckled after you sat down with a new drink in your hand.

“I never said I wasn’t, I just have nothing to regret the next morning.”

“Nothing?” he teased, the corners of his mouth twitching which prompted you to lean in closer.

“That depends on who I spend the night with,” you whispered the words in his ear before leaning back and winking at your slightly flustered costar.

“Well let’s find out how much you’re gonna regret this night in the morning, shall we?” Alex brought his glass up to his lips, dimples showing on his face as he did.

Bright lights woke you up, your head pounding slightly as you rubbed your eyes and sat up. Strangely the room you were in looked nothing like your hotel room, obviously the furniture was the same but it was way more messy than yours.

Confused you slowly got up from the bed, finding yourself completely dressed save for your shoes which stood at the end of the bed when suddenly the door to the bathroom opened, revealing a very shirtless Alexander Calvert with a toothbrush hanging in the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, you’re awake. I put an ibuprofen and a bottle of water on the bedside table,” he said before turning to the sink in the bathroom to rinse out his mouth.

“What happened?” You swallowed the pill and washed it down with a big gulp of water just to sit back down on the bed and looking at the man.

“Well…you got, as you put it ‘shit-faced drunk’ and I volunteered to bring you to your room but you refused to sleep alone and couldn’t find your keycard so I just took you into my room.”

“Oh god, I hope I didn’t do anything embarrassing…” you mumbled rubbing your temples as your headache slowly faded away, your stomach grumbling slightly to remind you to eat something soon.

“Let’s just say you say a lot of interesting things when you’re drunk,” Alex sat down beside you, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that you’re, and I’m quoting you here, ‘absolutely and utterly in love with me and looking at my perfect face and not being able to kiss me can be equalised with torture’…” he trailed off, rubbing his neck before looking at you, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“I…”- you took a deep breath after swallowing the lump forming in your throat -“I hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us and I can totally understand if you need some distance but please don’t ignore me or anything, I don’t think I could bear that, you’re too important in my life an-“

Alex pressed a finger onto your lips, silencing you.

“You talk too much, (Y/N),” he sighed before leaning in and connecting your lips, your eyes widening in shock before you closed them, kissing him back. Alex pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours.

You wanted more of him, needed more of him, so you leaned forward, your lips crashing together as you started to lose yourself in the kiss. Your body instantly relaxed, his hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer while your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangling in his damp hair as you slid onto his lap. Alex quickly got up, your legs wrapping around his hips as he spun you around, pressing you into the mattress, his arms keeping him from falling on top of you. His tongue traced your bottom lip, begging for entrance which you granted more than gratefully. Your hands wandered from his hair to his back, pulling at his shirt as you completely forgot the world around you until you heard the door to Alex’s hotel room slam open, causing him to jump away from you.

Too late, Jensen, Jared and Misha had seen what had been going on before they interrupted you.

“Uhhhh…morning?” you cleared your throat while you sat up, adjusting your shirt.

“We’re just gonna pretend we didn’t see that happen,” Jensen said slowly, clearing his throat before a smirk slowly formed on his lips.

“Yea…that saves us a lot of awkwardness,” Alex smoothed his shirt down before helping you stand up from the bed, his fingers intertwining with yours.

“Breakfast?” Jared offered, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder.

“Good idea. Let’s go.”

You followed your friends out of the room into the elevator at the end of the hallway, more than ready to finally get some food inside you.

“You hopefully know that we’re never going to drop this, like ever again?” Misha turned to around to face Alex and you after he pressed the button next to the doors of the lift.

“Afraid so,” you mumbled, being aware of just how much teasing you’d have to endure the next few months, especially when you’d get back to film the next season of the show.

But you were willing to go through all that if that meant you could be together with Alex, whose hand squeezed yours slightly before giving you a reassuring smile. Yes, with him by your side you were ready to face all the teasing that would get thrown at you.

FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED!

Tag List

Everyone: @marvelsbunch @trees-and-ink @heartbreaker6995 @not-satan-souls @ohitswanda @stardustbooknerd

#alex calvert x reader #alex calvert imagine #alexander calvert x reader #alexander calvert imagine #supernatural cast imagine #supernatural cast x reader #*writing #alexander calvert

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mike-faist-is-the-best · 6 years ago

Text

Three Simple Words (Albert)

Summary: Reader and albert have it pretty good except reader gets drunk and reveals true feelings yikes

Warnings: okay so some allusion (did i use that word right) to sex, underage drinking and drunkenness, fluff

Taglist: @bwaysrose @albertdasillva @sweater-under-the-spooky-weather @stargirl-murphy @heymissmisty @the-yellow-anon @frogwrath @fandomnerdsarecool @ben-cook-can-cook @broadwayficsandmore @elmers-half-a-cup @thatshiscigar @mattie-writes @pinkyshy101 @my-omar-sharif @bennie-badeend @meangirlsx @newsiesgarbage

Masterlist

“Baby, come on, you know the party won’t be as fun without you.” Albert said, holding your hand as the two of you walked into school.

“But Halloween parties are the same every year. Someone mixes vodka with fruit punch and it’s gone within the first hour. And it usually ends with someone being caught having sex.” You said.

“This year’ll be fun though, because now we’re dating and so it’s different.” While it was worded incredibly ridiculous, Albert did have a point.

“Fine, I’ll go, but I’m just gonna drink a lot.” You said, causing Albert to smile and lean in to kiss you. You closed the gap, and you suddenly realized you and Albert had become every cliche couple ever.

You had met Albert in sophomore year, during Spanish class. He sat in front of you, and you guys started talking immediately. He had this way about him, that made you instantly attracted to him. And it wasn’t until the end of junior year when Albert finally said something. By that time, you and Albert were talking pretty much every day, and you knew you were definitely in love with him. It was a kind of love where you wanted to be with him everyday, and you wanted to know even the weirdest things about him.

The day he asked you out was one of the happiest days of your life. It was after school, and Albert was driving you home, and he just let it slip.

“So, do you maybe wanna go on a date?” He asked you, causing you to choke on your water.

“With you?” You asked. Obviously you, Y/N, you idiot.

“Nevermind, forget it, it was stupid, just forget I said-”

“No! I want to date you!” You exclaimed, smiling once the feeling sunk in that you were gonna date your long time crush.

And now it was almost 6 months and you still felt the same way. Except there was this one tiny thing that made you weary. You’ve told Albert you loved him, multiple times, and he hasn’t. It wasn’t like you were trying to force him to say it, just after saying it to him a bunch of times, it felt as if he didn’t feel the same way you did.

“Hey I gotta go to class, but we’re going tonight?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“Yeah, sure.” You said, and he kissed you quickly one more time. “I love you.”

“I’ll see you after school.” He said, starting to walk away, catching up to another one of his friends. You continued to stand there, watching him walk away, trying not to let your smile falter. He had the perfect opportunity to say it back, but he didn’t. It was fine, everything was gonna be fine.

Albert didn’t know anything about love. He grew up in a house full of boys, his mom died when he was six. His brothers and dad didn’t really show much affection towards each other. He had an idea of love, like he loves lacrosse, he loves carbonated drinks, he loves food. But the love he felt towards you was a complete different kind of love. Every time he saw you, he got butterflies in his stomach, and when he saw you smile, he swore it was the most beautiful thing he’s seen in his life. He didn’t know how to express that, because what he felt, was new, and more than love.

You were laying in Albert’s bed with him after school, just scrolling on your phone. He had an arm wrapped around you and the other was holding his phone. The party didn’t start till seven, so the both of you had some time to kill. You turned around, facing Albert and watching his face. You leaned in to kiss him. He reciprocated, pulling you on top of him.

“Are we doing this?” You asked, pulling away briefly to face Albert.

“Are you okay with it?” He asked, massaging your hips. You nodded and leaned back to kiss him.

“Y/N! You made it!” Elmer exclaimed, opening up the door and dragging you inside.

“Okay, how much have you had to drink already, Elmer?” You asked, smiling a little as Albert found another group to talk to.

“Doesn’t matter, we have booze.” He said, giving you a solo cup full of some liquid. “Also, you aren’t dressed up, it’s a Halloween party!”

“I uh, ran out of time.” You said, taking a sip of the mysterious liquid.

“Yeah, we can tell.” He retorted, pointing to a forming bruise on your neck. You laughed with him and continued to make small talk as more people started showing up.

Two hours into the party, everyone was either super drunk or asleep. Like, Race and Spot were on the couch, making out, and Finch and Buttons were curled up on the reclining chair, asleep. You were in the kitchen with Katherine, drinking more. Katherine was drinking lemonade while you downed your fourth cup.

“He won’t even say ‘I love you’!” You exclaimed, throwing the cup on the floor. “We’ve been dating a long time now, like, a million months, and he won’t even say it!”

“Y/N, it’s okay, he’ll get around to it.” Katherine replied, putting a hand on your shoulder. But you jumped off the counter, and in your drunken state, it seemed like a good idea to confront Albert.

“No, we need to talk, right here, right now.” You said, walking toward him.

“No! Y/N, maybe that’s not the best idea, you’re clearly drunk, and we’re at a party!” Katherine said, but it was too late, you were already tapping Albert on the shoulder. Katherine put a hand over her face, not wanting to see how this will end up.

“Why won’t you tell me you love me?” You snapped at Albert, his smile off his face falling once he saw you. His group went silent, practically the whole room went silent. Even Spot and Race sat up, watching the interaction.

“Y/N, what are-what are you talking about?” He said, putting a hand on your shoulder, but you brushed it off.

“I tell you I love you all the time, even earlier, when we were-”

“Okay, you are very, very intoxicated right now, and you don’t know what you’re saying. Let’s go home.” He said, taking your hand.

“No! I want to know why, why, why don’t you love me?” You said, your mood turning from angry to sad. Tears welled up in your eyes.

“Okay, we’re going home. Goodbye everyone, I’ll see you at school on Monday.” Albert said, gently leading you to his car. You were still crying, but mostly confused as to what was going on.

“Where are we going?” You hiccuped, crawling into the car.

“We’re going to my house, and you’re going to sleep for 12 hours.” Albert responded, putting your seatbelt on for you.

The drive to his house was practically silent, except you were humming a tune and tapping the window. Normally, Albert would be smiling, but he was more worried than anything. He was worried that you didn’t want to be with him anymore, he was worried about how long you’ve felt this way. He wanted to ask you, but you were so drunk he didn’t think he’d get an answer out of you.

Arriving at Albert’s house, Albert cursed that his bedroom was up the stairs because it was going to take even longer getting you into bed. There was an option of having you sleep on the couch, but he didn’t want his dad to be shocked in the morning, so he’d make that struggle for you. You put your arms around his neck and he lifted you into his arms, ready to get a semi-workout. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was one of his older brothers to be home and in the living room, the room where he had to walk through to get to his room.

“Hey Al, where you been all night?” His brother asked. “Is that Y/N?”

“Yeah, uh, if you could not tell dad that-”

“Hey! It’s Albert’s brother!” You exclaimed, giggling and awkwardly waving at him. He waved back at you momentarily, before turning to Albert again.

“How drunk are they?” His brother asked.

“Uh, I don’t know.” He replied. “But we’re going to bed.”

Albert walked upstairs slowly, and letting a breath of relief when he got to his room. He gently laid you down on the bed, and took of your shoes.

“Okay just sleep now, we’ll talk in the morning.” He said, kissing you on the forehead, and he pulled the blankets over you.

You woke up in the morning with a killer headache, but the moment you turned your head, there was a glass of water and two ibuprofen next to it. You sat up, looking for your boyfriend, but he was nowhere to be found. But right after that thought crossed your mind, he walked in.

“Good, you’re up.” He said, taking a seat next to you. “Do you remember anything about last night?”

“Uhm, I remember drinking a lot in the kitchen, I remember wondering where Davey and Jack went halfway through the night, I remember Katherine and I talking, and I remember,” You paused, gasping slightly when you realized what else happened that night. “Oh no, Albert, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”

“You do know why you said it, what’s going on?” He asked, putting a hand on your leg.

“I don’t know, it’s just, upsetting that I’ve said it a bunch, and you never respond. I don’t want to be in a relationship that’s not going anywhere.” You responded. “But I do wanna be with you, I just don’t know how serious this is.”

“You make me so incredibly happy, and I want to say it, but you make me so nervous.” He said. “Okay, that sounds bad. But, I mean that when you walk into a room, my heart explodes.”

“Albert, it’s okay, it was a lot to ask-”

“No, because I do love you, and I’m just a wimp who can’t express feelings correctly.” He said. “And I should’ve said it a lot sooner-”

You cut Albert off by connecting your lips to his, and he put a hand on your cheek, pulling you closer to him.

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